Secrets of Gor Chapter Three

 

Neither of us spoke for a time as Raisa gracefully rose from her knees, bowed demurely, and then exited the room, closing the door behind her.

 

The air felt tense, as if an argument was about to begin.

 

“Donna, I wanted to see you, but I was afraid of the conversation we would have – the conversation we are having now. I don’t know how to speak the things that…”

 

Donna interrupted with a motion of her right hand. “I want you to know I have spoken with both the Lady Sansapina, and Mikos. They have given me their own accounts of what occurred.”

 

I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to do this. I simply nodded.

 

“I’m very grateful for your intervention,” I said. “Incredibly grateful.”

 

“You would have been branded a slave.”

 

I nodded. “I owe you so much.”

 

“And yet you have hidden from me since my intervention. You will speak the truth, won’t you, Cassandra?”

 

I nodded. I couldn’t look at her.

 

“And I want you to look at me.”

 

“I can’t…”

 

“I am concerned. I am concerned that your experience may have changed you.”

 

“It hasn’t!” I looked up. 

 

“The experience you had would change many women. Has changed many women. It awakens thoughts and feelings deeply buried. You haven’t been sleeping well.”

 

“What?” it was true, but how did she know?

 

“You lie in bed at night, wracked by embarrassing thoughts, thoughts that keep you awake until the early hours when finally you pass into some vague semblance of sleep.”

 

It was true, but…

 

“Many women have shared this affliction. Do you know what they do?”

 

“No.”

 

“They begin to take risks. Small ones at first, but soon the risks become more daring. Deliberately teasing men. Lingering rather too long in slave markets. Attending taverns that Free Women are well advised to avoid. Accepting invitations from men with reputations. Placing themselves lightly in the power of these men, intoxicated by ridiculously unrealistic fantasies of what might happen next. Walking streets late at night with just a hooded cloak as a shield. Venturing into back streets alone during the day time. And then, when none of this is daring enough, perhaps dressing in a slave tunic in the privacy of your own home. Daring perhaps a collar with your house name inscribed upon it. What then? Pretending to serve an imaginary Master in the privacy of your bedroom. Lying on your bed, gripping the slaves rings either side, imagining you were bound to them. Only you want more. Perhaps you dare to step out onto the street in a slave tunic and collar, tightly gripping the key in your left hand where no one might see it. And then when that is not enough, hiding the key in a safe place, so for an ahn or so as you walk through the market, you truly cannot remove it, until you hurry back to the key hiding place, anxious that it might have been found, but that’s part of the thrill and excitement of it all. Entering a tavern, dressed as a slave girl, watching the paga sluts being thrown to their backs in the sand or being dragged to alcoves, terrified of everything you see there, but also excited beyond your comprehension. It’s a story as old as Gor itself.”

 

“That’s not me.”

 

“Oh? It’s not? What thoughts keep you awake, Flower of the Assante? Tell me.”

 

“How do you know I’ve been sleeping poorly?”

 

“I know everything, Cassandra. Answer my question.”

 

“I should go.”

 

“YOU WILL SIT DOWN.”

 

I sat down. My hands were shaking.

 

“What is this?” asked Donna.

 

She placed a folded piece of paper face up on the table. I could see it in my peripheral vision and felt my body shake some more.

 

I knew what it was from just a brief glance.

 

Donna picked it up again and opened it. The wax seal had been broken long ago when Mikos had first opened it. “Slave papers. Papers of ownership. Who is Cassie?”

 

I couldn’t speak. The words were frozen in my throat.

 

“Her slave responses are clearly detailed, for the caste of slavers must have put her through a thorough assessment. They concluded she is quite the hot thing, considering how new she is to her collar. She oils quicker than most girls who have only recently been enslaved. The girl is the property of Mikos of Argentum. A complete set of measurements are included, along with toe and finger prints and a lock of hair.”

 

I rarely cried, but tears formed in my eyes. 

 

“Stop that. Look up at me. I SAID STOP CRYING.”

 

I wiped my face and eyes and tried to look at Donna. 

 

“You are a slave.”

 

“I’m not! I’m not a slave!”

 

“This paper says you are.” She stabbed a finger at it.

 

“It’s not legal in Vonda! The enslavement was not legal!”

 

“Oh, so you’re only a slave in the whole of Gor outside of eighteen square miles of these city walls? Well, that’s nothing to concern yourself with, then.”

 

“You don’t understand what happened!”

 

“I think I understand very well, Cassandra! You submitted.”

 

“I DID NOT SUBMIT!”

 

“Good.” Donna sat back and suddenly smiled. “Good.”

 

“I didn’t submit!” I said again. “I am not a slave!”

 

“But you will be a slave. Because you have those foolish young girl fantasies in your head now. Because you enjoyed what Mikos did to you in the barn loft. Don’t lie to me. And now you’re wondering what life as his slave might be like. You fantasise about it. Because you have no idea what such a thing really means. Being a slave is much more than a couple of nights of rough, exciting sex, Cassandra. Much more.”

 

I was breathing heavily, gasping for breath, my hands clenched under the table. “Where did you get the papers?”

 

“Your slave papers? The papers that say you are a kajira? From Mikos. I persuaded him to lend them to me for this conversation. He did so before he left. I will be returning them. I gave him my word.”

 

“Please destroy them. Please.”

 

“Why? Why? So some other man in six months’ time has you in a collar instead of Mikos? How is that any better? Because I know where your fantasies will lead. Gor is full of slaves who were former free woman who played with fire. Your games will grow more and more dangerous; the risks you take will grow more wretched, all because you do not understand what you are doing, you silly little girl.”

 

“I won’t do any of that! Please, Donna!”

 

“Did you feel slave heat?”

 

“I don’t even know what that is!”

 

“You know what slave heat is if you felt it. Did you experience a slave orgasm?”

 

“Stop this! Please! Just stop it!”

 

“You did experience a slave orgasm. I know you did. And now you crave what you can‘t have. Simon can’t please you in your bed. Nothing can please you unless it recaptures the intense feelings you had that night in the barn loft when you were taken as a helpless slave girl and put through your paces. You will do anything you can to feel that again. Look me in the eyes and tell me you did not experience a slave orgasm that night, and know if you lie to me, I will strip and whip you here in this room, for the one thing I will not stand for is you lying to me.”

 

“YES, I FELT SOMETHING! I don’t know what it was, but it felt good! I’m so sorry. You’re forgetting I was a victim here.”

 

Donna rose to her feet. “At least you haven’t lied to me again. Have some tea. It will help to calm you.”

 

There was silence for perhaps an ehn and a half as I drank some Bazi tea and Donna paced about the room.

 

“I’m not trying to humiliate you, Cassandra. I’m trying to save you. You are at war with yourself. At the present moment, the part of you that rejects slavery is dominant and in control. But there is another side to you that has discovered a forbidden fruit and it is chipping away at your defences bit by bit, and like the sea eroding the coastline, eventually the tower built on the edge of the cliff begins to fall away. You are not the first woman to wage war on herself, and you will not be the last. Do you sometimes wish Simon would dominate you, the way Mikos did?”

 

I was silent.

 

Donna shrugged. “He’s not Mikos. And he’s not Gorean, even though he strives to be. There is nothing wrong with enjoying sex, Cassandra.”

 

I gasped, hearing Donna say that.

 

“Your sexual desires would be considered normal on Earth. Well, some of them. But you don’t live on Earth, and here on Gor your fantasies involve a collar and a brand. Do you love your family?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“How would they feel if you were enslaved? I know you want children. Do you think that would ever be permitted children if you were kept in bondage? Your brother may have sired children with Emma, but he is a rare exception, and I know your feelings on the subject. You would be childless, Cassandra; barren in fact. Slave wine would make it impossible for you to conceive.”

 

“I don’t want to be a slave.”

 

“Easy to say. But your fantasies haven’t gone away. You think you can indulge them secretly, safely, peering into the darkness. You can’t. That path leads ultimately to a brand on your thigh. Gor does not tolerate you living two lives. You may have one or the other, not both. So what will it be? A Free Woman, or a kajira?”

 

“A Free Woman.”

 

“It’s easy to tell me that, but not so easy to tell yourself that. Those are just words, Cassandra. Meaningless words. You have an overly romantic view of what slavery would be like if you wore Mikos’s collar. He could sell you at any time. He might grow bored with you. Why not? There is no shortage of other collared sluts. You could end up as a common mill girl, working twelve hour shifts grinding corn in heavy stone treadmills, sweating, dirty, no longer beautiful.”    

 

“I don’t want to be a slave! I keep telling you!”

 

“This is going to be hard, Cassandra, and you are possibly going to hate me, but I have a proposition that I hope in the long term will rid you of these silly fantasies. Do you trust me?”

 

“Donna?” 

 

“The only way you will ever put aside this notion that you might be happier in a collar is for you to experience the true drudgery of it and realise it is nothing to dream of.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“A day and night spent as a house slave. Twenty ahn, during which you would be required to provide the same level of service as I would expect any of my house slaves to provide. You would carry out chores under the supervision of Raisa, and during the night you would sleep in the girl pen in the basement. Provided you worked hard and met my expectations, you would be treated no differently than any other collared girl in this house. Twenty ahn for you to decide whether a collar is something to be coveted.”

 

“You can’t be serious?”

 

“I can’t think of any other way to rid you of these romantic notions. Only an actual example of the stark reality, under safe conditions, will do that for you.”

 

“You want me to be a slave in this house for twenty ahn?”

 

“It could save you.”

 

“No.” I stood up. “I’m not doing it, Donna. Absolutely not. And I think I should go now.”

 

Donna sighed and picked up a hand bell that she rang the once. And then I stared in shock as Simon, my free companion, walked into the room. 

 

“You saw and heard everything?” asked Donna.

 

Simon looked embarrassed and sad. He nodded without saying a word. He barely looked at me. 

 

“Sit down, Cassandra. We haven’t finished. We’ve barely begun.”