Secrets of Gor Chapter Fifteen

 

“More Bazi tea, Simon? And you really should try one of the small tea cakes. They will remind you so much of Earth.”

 

“Cassandra…” said Simon, as he sat there in a state of shock and awe, gazing at the swell of my breasts, so dramatically emphasised in the tight, thin, rep cloth tunic. He had never seen me like this before, and perhaps never imagined how slave-like my body might be in a tunic and collar. 

 

Donna cautioned me before I could speak. “Remember he is a Free Man, Cassie. You call him Master, or I will take the switch go your thighs.” She then turned to Simon and added, “her name is Cassie. Please do not confuse her with the name of your beloved companion. It would be insulting to the Lady Cassandra Assante if you applied her name to a common house slut.”

 

“But…” Simon looked confused. 

 

“Have some tea,” Donna said, and watched as Simon raised the small cup to his lips. 

 

“She looks…”

 

“Like a slave, yes. Well, that is what she is. The collar brings out many things in a girl. Things you may not have previously considered were possible in your gracious and chaste companion. Do you find her sexually arousing like this?”

 

I was numb with shock. I couldn’t look at Simon. I felt horribly ashamed that he could see me like this. 

 

“She’s my companion,” said a flustered Simon by way of reply. I was glad he felt the question to be grossly inappropriate!

 

“Yes or no? Do you find her sexually arousing like this? More so than when you gazed at her in her veils and robes? It is a simple question, Simon. Please don’t be evasive.”

 

“Well, I mean, obviously she’s…”

 

“You’re looking at her the way you would look at Raisa, perhaps more so, because this girl, here, is known to you, and you are now seeing her true potential. Men rarely appreciate what they have until they view that thing in a fresh light. Take a good look at Cassie.” Donna turned her gaze to me. “Stand, girl. Display position.” She snapped her fingers.

 

“What? No!” I was shocked. I would not display myself before my companion!

 

“You are still a slave in this house, Cassie. You have not yet been freed. You will obey, or I will have you whipped in front of Simon. What is it to be?”

 

I stood, red faced, and displayed myself, as I heard a sharp intake of breath from Simon, who couldn’t stop looking at me. He seemed astonished by what he saw! The display position is extremely humiliating for a girl, but evidently the caste of slavers routinely recommend it for inspection purposes. I stood, feeling exposed and vulnerable like this, with my legs widely spread, my head back, my hands clasped behind the back of my neck, in full view of my companion. It is very difficult for a girl to move from such a lewd position, and of course the positioning of the arms, the tension there, lifts the bosom to the view of the man. I felt my breasts strain at the thin fabric I wore as I positioned myself as best I could. 

 

“Clumsy, but also adorable,” suggested Donna. “Do you like what you see?”

 

“She’s incredible,” said Simon. It was such an inappropriate thing for him to say! Why did he not immediately demand I was given robes and veils! What was wrong with him? “I had no idea she could look like this.”

 

“And she has been yours, all this time, this treasure of a girl, that you have considered of less interest than the cheapest of slaves in the local paga tavern. What a fool you’ve been, Simon. You’ve had this girl in your bed each night, and what have you done? You’ve forsaken her, time and time again.” 

 

Yes! It was true. Simon had shown little interest in me, sexually. He had always sought out cheap slave sluts. Did he now understand his mistake?

 

“I’ve never seen her like this before,” said Simon. He still couldn’t look away from me.

 

“Stand. Touch her. Examine her. She’s a slave, and can’t object.”

 

To my further shock, Simon stood and approached me. I could see the lust in his eyes – a look he’d never given me before.

 

“Simon, please don’t!”

 

‘Your last warning, Cassie,” said Donna in a cold, threatening voice that scared me. “You call him Master while you wear a collar. And do not break position, for if you do, you will be whipped. Simon won’t be able to stop me.”

 

“What?” Simon looked surprised at this.

 

“Behave yourself Simon, You are in my house.” Donna indicated Simon was permitted to touch me, and then he most certainly did.

 

I breathed, hot, stimulated, as Simon touched me all over my body, marvelling at the way I felt now that I was in a collar. I gasped as his touch moved between my thighs.

 

“She’s hot, isn’t she, Simon?”

 

“It’s incredible,” he said. “She is! This is Casandra? She’s oiling to my touch!”

 

“Cassie. Please remember her name, Simon.”

 

“What has happened?”

 

“Nothing has happened. This is who she is.”

 

I cried out as I felt Simon roll the hem of my tunic up past my thighs, exposing my fresh brand before I might object.

 

“She really is branded! You really had her branded?”

 

“I can see you need some time alone together. I will give you ten ehn.” Donna rose and left the room, closing the door behind her.

 

“Simon!” I said, as soon as Donna had left the room.

 

“You had better call me Master,” Simon said. “You don’t want to get Donna angry.”

 

“What is going on? I was supposed to be freed of this collar and given robes and veils before you came to bring me home!”

 

“She said that? Donna said that to you?”

 

“Well, no, not exactly, but…” actually she hadn’t said anything of the sort, just that Simon would meet me at the close of the day. I had just assumed…

 

“I want to go home!” I sobbed.

 

“Of course. I’m going to take you home but…” he gazed at me again, the lust growing in his eyes. “You are so slave like!”

 

“It’s just a slave tunic,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“But the collar does, and the brand.” He stroked my hair and then my legs. “I have never imagined you like this, Cassie. I can’t stop looking at you.”

 

“My name is Cassandra!”

 

“Not according to your collar. It says clearly you’re a slave called Cassie.” He touched the steel. “I should call you Cassie while you wear it.”

 

“Take me home! I want to go… oh, what are you doing?!” I felt Simon lift me from my feet and carry me to a couch. “What are you doing?!”

 

“I want you,” he said. “I’ve never wanted a woman more in my entire life.” He threw me down onto my back onto the couch and tore off his tunic.

 

“Simon! No! Not like this!” I scrambled back on the couch as he advanced upon me. “Back at home! When we’re home! Not while I’m wearing a collar!”

 

Simon pushed me back down and parted my legs. He was already hard and very excited. 

 

“Call me Master,” he said.

 

“I’m your companion!”

 

He took my wrists and swiftly tied them to a slave ring at the head of the couch. Then he parted my legs again. My tunic was now rolled up around my waist, leaving me fully exposed and open. I squealed at the touch of his hand on my sex.

 

“You’re such a slut, Cassie. You’ve already oiled for my use!”

 

“You can’t use me as a slave!”

 

“Of course I can. You wear a collar and a brand. I have every right, and I want you.” And then he entered me and began thrusting harder than I had ever known him do before. This was no gentle love making, showing consideration for my chaste feelings, this was pure brutal, urgent lust, of a man making use of a heated slave.

 

We only had ten ehn, and so Simon used me quickly and efficiently, crying out like an animal when he came. 

 

I lay there, my hands still tightly bound to the slave ring, bathing in the exquisite pleasure of the afterglow of release. Simon remained inside me, no longer hard, but it felt good to still be fulfilled in some way. There is an exquisite joy to have a man still inside of you, even after the sexual congress has climaxed. It is then when I feel closest to the man who has brought me to the edge of such pleasure, when I can still touch him, feel him possessing me. 

 

“You’re quivering,” he said as he lay beside me on the couch, stroking my unmarked thigh.

 

“I’m quivering,” I agreed. Simon’s love making had never been like this before. Was it as good as Mikos? I don’t know. In its own way it was different, fiercer. I tried to rationalise the differences. Mikos had been enjoying a feast at his leisure. Simon was a starving man tearing at a steak. 

 

“I’ve been a fool. I’ve taken you for granted, and haven’t appreciated the woman who is my companion.”

 

I looked up at him, speechless. What was he saying?

 

“I could have had you any night, like this, and I’ve sought slaves instead. Every night you’ve lain in my bed. I never appreciated the treasure I owned until now.”

 

“Owned!” I squirmed as he said that word. Owned? Slaves are owned. A Free Woman is companioned. There is a difference!

 

“You are my companion. In a sense you are my possession for the duration of our contract. And in a collar you are also owned, but in a very different way.”

 

“Oh,” I squirmed again, thinking perhaps of some other form of ownership. – a more formal ownership that did not expire at the end of a year. 

 

“You are delightful when aroused, Cassie. Bondage agrees with you.”

 

“Beast.” I lifted my head and daringly kissed him on the lips. He was my companion after all. I was permitted to do so. 

 

“Things will be different now,” Simon said. “Very different.”

 

“How so?” I enjoyed the sensation of my wrists being tightly bound to the iron ring as he stroked my flanks. It was so exquisite! Could he tell what he was doing to me? Could he sense the fires smouldering in my belly?

 

“I will put you to use more frequently from now on. All these nights wasted until now. In the evening, when I am close to retiring, I shall send you to our bedroom. There you will undress, perfume yourself and dress in soft, scandalous pleasure silk. You will then wait for me, on your knees, in nadu.”

 

I blushed but felt thrilled by the suggestion. A wild sense of exhilaration came over me at the thought of being sent to my own bedchamber to kneel in pleasure silk, perfumed like some slut, waiting for my man to come and claim me. “You seem to know what you want.”

 

“I do.” He kissed my breasts, having pulled the tunic further up, under my arm pits. “Things will be different.”

 

“I love you, Simon.”

 

“Oh?” he raised an amused eyebrow. “A slave loves his Master? Is that possible?”

 

“You’re being silly now.” I pulled futilely at my bindings. They remained secure, of course. When a man binds a girl, he does so with skill and experience. “I’m not a slave. I’m your companion.”

 

“At this precise moment, Cassie, you are a slave. When you are freed, then you will not be a slave. Do you understand the distinction? But even then, at night, in private, I will put you to use in ways that may make you feel like a slave.”

 

“Beast!” I reached up to kiss him again, but felt his fingers touch my lips and push my face gently back.

 

“Does a slave beg to be kissed?”

 

I felt thrilled at being spoken to like this. And to my delight, I felt his manhood stir inside of me. He was excited by such thoughts, too.

 

I felt sure he would grow hard again if I aroused him in this manner. “Master,” I said, breathing the word softly, and yes, his manhood grew again between my legs when I spoke that word. “Your slave begs her continued rape.”

 

And that was all it took, that and looking at him the way a slave might. He took me again, hard, furiously, and I screamed my release when it came. Afterwards, I lay on my back, perspiring, my hair dishevelled, my breathing ragged. Simon pulled free from me and kissed me as he did so.

 

“In the bedroom you will answer to Cassie.”

 

“Yes,” I said quickly.

 

“In the bedroom you will call me Master.”

 

“Beast!” I struggled again, much to his amusement.

 

“In the bedroom I shall hang a house whip.”

 

“You will not need it!”

 

“Perhaps not. We shall see. Are you going to be obedient? Will you be pleasing in the furs?”

 

I shook my head furiously. “You wouldn’t dare whip me in our bedroom!””

 

Simon simply smiled. “How have you found this experience? Donna tells me it has been very real to you?”

 

“Very real,” I said. “More real than I expected. She had me branded!” I was still furious about that, but I understood too how the registration brand might in the future save me from the presentation of my slave papers. I had begun to understand that it had been a clever move on Donna’s part, leaving aside the horror I had felt at the time. Once the brand was gone, no one could possibly accuse me of being the slave Cassie. Once the brand was gone, of course, but for now I wore it, indelibly marked in my skin. 

 

“I have made excuses for your absence,” Simon said. “You are visiting friends in the Sardar.”

 

“That excuse is a little excessive,” I suggested. “I’ll only have been away for a day. What are you going to say? That I turned my kaiila around and chose to come back when I was barely outside the gates?” 

 

We were interrupted by a soft warning knock on the door before Donna re-entered.

 

“How adorable,” she said, with a wry smile. She walked to the couch on which I lay, my wrists bound, my body reeking of sexual use. “I hope she wasn’t too clumsy. She’s untrained in the art of pleasing a man,” said Donna. “Her papers mention it.”

 

“I found her pleasing,” said Simon. “Inexperienced, and untrained, of course. But that’s to be expected.”

 

“Good.” Donna regarded me again. “You’re a guest in my home and therefore entitled to satisfaction if you make use of a house slave.”

 

Simon coughed slightly, wishing perhaps to change the tone of the conversation. He seemed now to be unsure of himself, of perhaps thinking he had one too far with me. He gazed back with post-coital embarrassment as his companion lay tied to a slave ring.

 

“You’ve brought us together, Lady, and healed some wounds in our relationship. I thank you for that.”

 

“Oh?” Donna smiled .

 

“I failed to recognise what a treasure lay in my bed chamber every night. Rest assured I shall make up for lost time.”

 

I smiled, softly, hearing those words. He thought of me now as a treasure. My nights in the bedroom would be far more fulfilling from tonight, it seemed. I curled my legs back on the couch, watching Simon, imagining what it might be like to wait for him late at night, kneeling, dressed in pleasure silk. Scandalous! But companions were entitled to take pleasure from one another. It was not unheard of for a man to make risqué demands of his woman in the seclusion and privacy of their boudoir. I began to feel deeply thrilled by the possibilities. Perhaps he might no longer care for his slave sluts. Maybe now he would be drawn to me, night after night, surrendering himself to the pleasure he might find between my legs, and mine only.

 

“I have it in mind,” Simon said with an awkward smile, “to retain the collar around Cassie’s neck when I take her home.”

 

“Beast!” I said quickly, but felt even more excited. He would take me home like this! It was unthinkable! 

 

“Oh?” said Donna. Her face seemed curiously impassive.

 

“She will wear the collar under her fine gowns and veils as she walks the streets of Vonda to our town house. I want her to be hot and excited by the time we get there.”

 

I think I would be hot and excited, having to secretly wear the steel collar under my robes as we walked the streets to my house. I twisted in my tight bindings, feeling myself grow more and more aroused by all of this. Simon was planning on putting me to use again at least once more tonight. My breasts softly rose and fell with my breathing as I squirmed again where I lay.

 

“I have explained to her that by day she may be the Lady of the House, but at night, when we retire to our bedroom couch, she will serve me in place of the slave stable. I plan on making up for lost time with my woman.”

 

Still Donna said nothing she simply watched Simon in that way she often watched people, as if they were laboratory specimens. 

 

“Cassie is not going anywhere tonight,” she said.

 

Simon and I were both silent for a moment, before I broke the silence. “A single day and night! I’ve served a single day and night in your house! It’s over!”

 

“It’s not even begun,” said Donna, dismissively. “I said a day and night giving service as a House slave. You have a long way to go before you are even capable of approaching the level of service expected of a House Slave. Until you do, you remain in your collar, in this house, subject to strict slave discipline, as agreed. And you clearly haven’t learned anything so far. If anything, this bout with your companion proves your deep rooted fantasies remain. It was a test of sorts. I wanted to see whether you’d react to Simon’s advances as a slave might, and you did. You have disappointed me, little Flower of the Assante.”

 

“No, it wasn’t like that!” I sat up on the couch and slid my feet to the floor. 

 

“She will remain here, Simon, until she ether chooses that a life as your slave is what she wants, in which case she will be returned to you with collar and brand intact, to serve in your kennels, or she convinces me her slave fantasies are behind her.” 

 

“No! What?” I turned wildly about and addressed Simon. “I’ve had enough of this! We’re leaving NOW, Simon. Fetch me robes and veils.” I paused and touched the steel collar around my throat. “And the key to this collar!” I stamped my foot.

 

“I don’t have… Cassandra… I don’t have the key to the collar.” Simon’s eyes glanced towards Donna. “Where is the key?”

 

“That’s none of your business, Simon, and no, you are not taking my slave. She has agreed to serve as a House slave for a day and a night and I shall hold her to that.”

 

“This is ridiculous! I have had enough of this!” I shouted. “Simon! Make her give me the key! Do it!”

 

“I think…” began Simon.

 

And I think you should be quiet, Simon. You really don’t want to make me angry, now, do you?” Donna moved until she was facing Simon, almost nose to nose. “Should I send for the Lady Sansapina?”

Simon’s face went white as he mumbled, “No, no need to send for her.”

 

“Because I can, if you wish to be awkward? She’d love to see you again.”

 

“Simon! You’re a man! Just take me away from here!” What was wrong with him?

 

“I think it might be best for you to remain here a while longer,” said Simon. He seemed to be considering something, some idea coming into his thoughts. “Donna may be right.” There was something else on his mind now, triggered by this revelation – I could sense it. “You shamed yourself just now, on the couch with me. The way you reacted to my touch…”

 

“What?! We are companions, Simon! We made love together!”

 

“Cassandra, your responses were not appropriate for a Free Woman. You can’t return home while you are like this. You would shame yourself.” Whatever he was now considering, Simon seemed to have reached an appealing conclusion in his mind. “It will be just a little while longer here.”

 

“I am not staying here a single ahn longer! YOU WILL TAKE ME HOME! NOW!”

 

“Do you want to be gagged, Cassie? Because I will gag you, and then I will whip you. This is your only warning, girl.” Donna suddenly slapped me hard across the face, hard enough that I stumbled back. “I told you this would be realistic, and it will be. This is precisely what was agreed between us.”

 

“Try putting a gag on me and see what happens,” I snarled, as I raised my fists. “Just try!” 

 

“I suggest you rethink your threats, unless you want to wear that brand upon your thigh for the rest of your life, Cassie.” Donna picked up a whip from the wall and shook it loose. “I’m the only one who can remove it. Leave this house tonight and you will never be rid of it.”

 

I stood there, biting back my next words. “You wouldn’t…”

 

“It will only be removed after you render me a day and a night of service as a House Slave. Not before. And I will be the judge of when you are capable of offering the level of service I expect from a kajira. Let me be clear, Cassie, this isn’t some sort of trick or deceit on my part. I am not trying to trick you into a life of slavery. I meant what I said that I have the power to remove that brand on your thigh, if you prove to me beyond doubt that you choose the path of a Free Woman. For you will ultimately decide your own fate. You can embrace slavery and the brand, if that is what you want, or you can prove to me that you no longer have slave fantasies. I will not permit any middle ground. I want what is best for you, little Flower, and I want you to be happy in the long run. I do not yet know whether you will be happier in a collar, or in robes and a veil. You still give me conflicting signals. And so we continue with your experience here, of what it might be like to be a slave. And part of that experience is the desperation a slave feels when she is forced to learn how to be an experienced slave – knowing that if she doesn’t find some way to improve her skills and performance, she will be whipped. You need to understand this, because it is what every slave faces. I am your Mistress in this House, in Vonda, and I expect high standards from my property. You will learn everything a slave has to learn, and only then will you be able to offer me a day and night of competent service. Only then can you return to your old life.”

 

There was silence now as I stood there, helplessly. Only Donna could erase the brand from my thigh. 

 

“You have not been pleasing, today, Cassie. Before Simon leaves, he can watch and see how a displeasing slave is whipped in this house. It will be educational for him, I think. Remove your tunic and adopt the whipping position that you are, by now, only too familiar with. I will NOT be spoken to in that way by a kajira!”