Secrets of Gor Chapter Thirteen

 

Not surprisingly, my entire body felt sore and stiff next morning. It was impossible to tell what hour it was as the basement was perpetually dark and gloomy without the aid of an artificial light source such as a lantern. What little light did filter through from the surface came from small slits close to the ceiling that must have been set to the street level above our heads. I felt tired too, as I’d had little sleep on the rough mattress. The single blanket had done little to keep me warm, though Cath’s body pressed close to mine had helped. 

 

We had spoken quietly in the darkness to begin with.

 

“Talking often helps a girl when she is new to bondage,” she had whispered as I shivered under the blanket.

 

“I have nothing to say.” She was a slave. We had nothing in common. It was ridiculous that she should even be speaking to me. 

 

“I’ll talk then, if you don’t mind.” 

 

“I’m not interested.” 

 

“Okay. But you’ll find I’m kind of persistent.” I sensed her rest her chin on one elbow as she lay beside me. “So, my name is Cath, but you know that. I’ve been in this collar for several years now, and you can probably tell from my accent that…”

 

“You’re a barbarian from the slave world, yes. I know of your kind. You’re all natural slaves. You belong in collars.”

 

There was a sigh. “Yes, I suppose we are,” she said, refusing to be provoked by my tone of voice, or choice of words. “I was Miss Catherine Lansom of Gosforth, and I moved to a city called Cambridge where I studied physics at its university. That’s a seat of learning, but not caste specific like the seats of learning are on Gor. I was monitored, tracked and abducted one night from my halls of residence. You probably know the arrangement. The slavers of your world routinely hunt in mine.”

 

“You’re natural slaves without a Home Stone. Of course we do. Your women are prey.”

 

“Yes, well, I was sold early on, long before I had even learned to speak Gorean properly. Our current Mistress bought me for my ability as a physicist. And of course, she could speak English fluently because she is English, herself, so my lack of Gorean wasn’t a problem. She made sure I learned the language quickly, though.”

 

“She’s the exception to your slave world. She was brought to Gor to serve the Priest Kings.”

 

“Oh, how do you know that?” asked Cath in the darkness.

 

I had perhaps given out information I shouldn’t rightly know, but I was tired, in considerable pain, and wasn’t at my best. “Something she said on the way here.”

 

“She doesn’t normally talk about that with girls she doesn’t know.” Cath thought about this for a moment. “Did she know you before you were collared?”

 

“It was a slip of the tongue. I think.” I back pedalled warily from that area of conversation. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Well, you are in her collar now.” Cath touched the steel circlet locked about my throat. “As Free Women go, she isn’t too bad. She’s very strict and demanding, and you had better be perfectly pleasing at all times, but she isn’t cruel for the sake of cruelty. If you work hard, obey her every word, your slavery will be better. But she doesn’t tolerate mistakes or a girl slacking.”

 

She had no idea of course that this was all ending for me very soon. 

 

“And Raisa isn’t too bad, either. She is hard with new girls, but she has to be. She’s a First Girl, and the Mistress will hold her accountable for our mistakes. You’ll probably have it easier than I did, because you’re Gorean. I had to work twice as hard in order to convince her I wasn’t a useless barbarian. You’re shivering, Cassie?”

 

“I’m cold,” I said. And as I said that I felt Cath put her arms around me. I should have been furious that a common slave slut was hugging me, but here in the slave pen it felt comforting and warm. I nestled my body into hers and felt a little better.

 

“How’s that?” 

 

“Thank you,” I said, before I might swallow those words. 

 

“I’m going to help you, Cassie. I know what it’s like to begin with. I know how much pain you are in. It will get better. I don’t want you to have to be scared of me.”

 

As if I might ever be scared of her. Did she really think that was possible? I felt like telling her what a stupid remark that was, but I could see she was genuinely trying to comfort me. I thought again of Julie who had wanted to be my friend. Both these girls seemed genuine in what they said, and I began to understand the nature of friendships in the slave pens, and how strong they might become given time. I knew nothing of that as a Free Woman of Vonda. 

 

“Why are you helping me?” I asked. As a Free Woman I knew only too well to be wary of pseudo friendships from rival women.

 

“Because I was alone when I had to adjust to the collar and brand, and I want to spare you that if I can. I’ll teach you things. I can teach you to cook tomorrow. You’re going to be whipped for last night’s meal, but perhaps you can do better next time?”

 

Yes, she was being sincere and genuine. She wanted nothing more than to help me, and, perhaps, to have a friend that might make her life more fulfilling.

 

“Have you been put to use since you were enslaved, Cassie?”

 

I thought of Mikos, and his use of me in the barn loft, and then in the paga tavern alcove. I thought of the slave bracelets, and the chaining and his touch. My face flushed a little in the darkness at the memories of his hands, lips and penis.

 

“Yes,” I said. “I am not white silk. I have been… put to use.”

 

“That’s an important step, Cassie. Many new slaves fear the very first time they are put to use. Were you scared?”

 

“Yes.” I don’t know why I said that, but it was true, I had been scared at first.

 

“And after?”

 

“Not scared afterwards.” I remembered the warmth and the ecstasy of my sexual feelings. I recalled lying in the straw after my first orgasm, and realising that I had never truly felt alive before, and that I had been blissfully ignorant of the experiences that made life truly worth living. “I felt fulfilled as a woman. It sounds stupid, but I felt a sense of belonging and a sudden, serene, peace of mind that was almost spiritual.”

 

“Good. How long ago was this?”

 

“Too long,” I said, quietly. I clenched my fingers into fists of frustration.

 

“Oh, Cassie, the Master lit fires inside your body that have yet to subside? I understand. You feel a craving now.”

 

There was no need to answer, for it was very much a rhetorical question.

 

“I want to ask you something,” I said, in the darkness of the kennel pen. 

 

“Of course, chain sister. Ask me anything.”

 

“You said you are a slave.” I turned on the mattress to face her. “You acknowledged that you are a true slave. How do you know that about yourself? How is it so easy to know that?”

 

I sensed Cath smile in the darkness as she lightly touched my belly with her finger tips. “You feel it here. And here.” Her fingers moved to my heart. “And of course here.” She touched me between my legs. “You become self-aware, but at first the natural instinct is to fight those feelings, to deny them, to scream, to rage; why is it that I must feel this way? And of course you lash out at other girls who have passed beyond that point and who now accept what they are, for it is frustrating that they will not deny their feelings the way you feel you must. You feel alone in the way you now are, scared that you feel things a Free Woman would not, should not; and scared that you cannot accept those feelings the way a slave would and can. Does this sound familiar?”

 

It did, and yes, that scared me. Cath’s hand remained between my legs, touching me there gently in the darkness. Chained as I was, I felt sensitive to such a touch and my imagination made me think it was perhaps Mikos’s hand there. I felt a tingle of excitement, imagining the rough touch of his chin stubble as he kissed me, while his fingers teased my sex. I moved my wrists and ankles in the sirik chain and felt a warmth between my legs now where the soft touch remained.

 

“I was the same,” whispered Cath in the darkness. “At first, I believed myself to be different to the slaves in the pens where I received a few days of training. I was a woman of Earth, cultured, civilized, educated far beyond the limits of the girls I shared a kennel with. But I was not so different really. Do you know how slavers refer to females?”

 

“They call us the slave sex,” I said softly.

 

“Yes, Cassie, the slave sex. We are born with a deep longing for the collar. It is within us all. It is within me, and it is within you. Do not blame yourself. You are the slave sex. And now you have a collar that proclaims to the world how right it is that you are a slave.” She touched the steel again. “And you have a brand.” She did not touch my brand, for she knew how painful it was right now. “There is a part of you that has always wanted to be a slave.”

 

“No!”

 

“That part of you has been weak, bullied, hidden, but the collar and brand now gives that part of you growing confidence. You will blossom into your slavery, Cassie, and soon you will find yourself oiling helplessly at the sight of a Master. For that is our curse, having a Mistress who owns us, rather than a Master – fulfilment in the furs will be infrequent. You will find this life frustrating.”

 

“Does Victor ever put you to use?” I asked.

 

“He does, yes, but Raisa more often than me. But with us both, he waits until we are helpless with slave heat. I must beg for his use of me. He likes that.”

 

“I will not beg a man to put me to use!” I said. The idea was monstrous. An Assante does not beg! I was born to a warrior family.

 

“You say that now, Cassie, but your words will soon change, when you feel that burning need, growing deep inside of you.”

 

How little she understood the nature of a Free Woman born to a warrior family. But she was warm, the night was cold, the floor was hard, and I nestled myself close to her, pressing my face to her shoulder. I felt Cath stroke my hair and whisper that things would get better, and that she would look after me. I was chained, and the chains made me feel aroused, but consciously not for her. I wanted a man. Yes, in the darkness, in my slave kennel, unable to easily drift off to sleep because of the aching pain of my injuries, I wanted a man to put me to use. Cath’s hand remained between my thighs and I moved my pelvis to feel that touch. 

 

“What was the name of the Master who put you to use?” she whispered softly.

 

“Mikos. His name was Mikos, now of Argentum.”

 

“Argentum? They are at war now. Can you imagine what he looks like?” asked Cath. “Can you imagine his face, now?”

 

“I can.” I thought of him, what he would do to me now if he saw me in sirik chains. Oh, how he would love that! I felt Cath’s hand begin to move gently against my sex.

 

“Oh…” I cried, softly. “You shouldn’t do… no, please don’t…” I chewed at my lower lip and struggled against the way I felt. 

 

“Imagine he has you in the furs, Cassie, touching you, playing with you, just like he is now. And you are so helpless. So very helpless. It isn’t your fault you feel this way. You can’t even stop it, chained as you are.”

 

I cried out, softly again, and snuggled closer to the slave girl. I felt her kiss me softly on my lips and I imagined it was Mikos, in the darkness, kissing me. 

 

“What would you call him, slave? What would you call him, now? Now that he is touching you like this?”

 

“Master,” I whispered, and I felt Cath’s fingers begin to stroke me down there. 

 

“You’re chained, slave, and helpless. Mikos can touch you now wherever he likes. He has you, and you will submit to him, because you are the slave sex. Tell me what sex you are?””

 

“The slave sex…” I whimpered and began to cry out with little yelps as Cath slipped her fingers inside of me. 

 

“He’s inside you now, Cassie. Can you feel him? You’re chained and helpless and he is going to pleasure you, because he can.”

 

It was quite a while before I went to sleep that night.

 

Raisa woke me by the sound of the lock on my cage snapping open. “Time to rise, girls,” she said, before moving on to the stone steps that led to the ground floor of the building. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

 

I moved under the blanket, feeling the comforting, warm flesh of the slave girl, Cath, entwined beside me.

 

“Good morning, chain-sister,” she whispered, her eyes still half closed with sleep. “Do you know what time it is?”

 

“No.” Almost as soon as I found myself awake, I felt a sense of guilt and shame for what had happened last night, and how I had behaved. 

 

“It’s the beginning of the fifth ahn. We start work at the beginning of the fifth ahn.” Cath moved her hand to my collar ring and wrapped a finger around it. “But we have breakfast first, kajira.”

 

Cath helped me crawl from the kennel, for my limbs felt like dead wood from the restriction of sleeping in the sirik chains. Pleasurable as the arrangement might have felt to begin with, as I imagined being handled roughly by a man, later that night the chaining grew uncomfortable, even though I retained some degree of movement with my hands and feet. It was a relief then when she produced a key in the basement and set about freeing me. 

 

“You’re not going to cause me any trouble, are you, chain sis?” She turned me about and lightly tapped my bottom, but was careful not to touch the red stripes criss-crossing it.

 

“No,” I said, and I think I meant it. I was close now to being freed from this collar, and all I wanted to do during the remaining hours was keep my head down and do as I was told. But of course it wasn’t going to be that simple. My punishment for the meal last night was coming due. 

 

“How many strokes of the switch do you think you deserve, Cassie?” asked Raisa after I had declined to eat the breakfast that she and Cath had devoured. It was some sort of cold, lumpen, porridge. 

 

“I don’t know, Mistress,’ I said, as I stood in the small courtyard outside. 

 

“In this house the errant slave sets the scale of the punishment,” explained Raisa as she tapped the palm of her hand with the switch. “But if she chooses too few strokes, I ask her again for another number, and the previous number is then added to them, and this goes on until she selects a suitable level of punishment for herself.”

 

“That’s not fair!” I said. I would never have done something like that to Brianna. 

 

Raisa simply smiled and tapped the palm of her hand with the switch again. “So I ask again, how many strokes do you deserve, little kajira?”

 

“Mistress, please may I speak for the new slave,” said Cath as she dropped to her knees before the First Girl. I looked on, astonished, as Cath pleaded on my behalf. “She is new to her collar, she is stupid, she is useless and clumsy, but she will learn. She knows she has been displeasing, and she begs a chance to do better. If she doesn’t do better today, I will take twice her punishment, if you only spare her this morning. She still suffers from her branding, her whipping, her switching. Please, Mistress, please.”

 

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. 

 

Raisa gazed at me. “Your chain sister thinks you will do better today, Cassie. Is she foolish to say that?”

 

“I will do better, Mistress,” I said quickly. Was I really going to be spared a further punishment? My heart was beating quickly as I considered this sudden escape. 

 

“If you do not, your chain sister will receive twice the number of strokes I would have inflicted now. And so will you. Do you understand me?”

 

“Don’t hurt her, Mistress. I will not disappoint you.”

 

“We shall see.” Raisa replaced her switch and motioned to the uneaten breakfast. One look at Cath’s imploring expression and I knew I would have to eat the cold, lumpen porridge. I dropped down onto my knees and lowered myself to eat from the wooden bowl. It was disgusting, but I knew Raisa would punish Cath for any disobedience on my part. Raisa left before I had finished the food, if you could call it that.

 

“You have to lick the bowl clean, Cassie,” said Cath as she knelt beside me. “We are not permitted to leave any of it.”

 

“It’s disgusting.”

 

“Really?” Cath seemed surprised as I said that. Genuinely surprised, in fact.

 

“You like, it?” I said, astonished. 

 

“Well, ‘like it’ is probably too strong a term, but I suppose I’m used to it. It’s been years since I ate in fine restaurants in Cambridge.” She laughed. “You wouldn’t have recognised me back then.”

 

“Trust me, it’s not good.” I cleaned the remains of the porridge with my fingers and finished the meal, telling myself it would be the last one I would have to endure. Every passing ehn brought me closer to my time of release today. Poor Cath, she would remain a slave forever, but I would enjoy my freedom again. I suppose Donna would not tell her. Cath and Rasa would probably be told that I had been sold back to a slaver house, for whatever reason. Like Julie, Cath thought she had found a friends, little knowing that she would lose that friend before nightfall. 

 

“So, today we need to concentrate on not being punished. You don’t want to be punished again, do you, Cassie?”

 

I shook my head. I still hurt from the whipping yesterday, and my brand remained extremely painful. 

 

“So we want to avoid another whipping. It will be twice as bad, and for both of us.”

 

“Why did you do that? You’re running a risk of being whipped.”

 

“Am I? Or will my chain sister work hard today to spare us both?” She rubbed her nose softly against mine. I had seen slaves do that before – a sign of affection in the kennels. It felt… strangely comforting. “I think I can rely on you. Now come, I’m going to teach you how to cook breakfast for your Mistress.”