Kajirus of Gor Chapter Ten

 

It’s difficult to assess the period of time in which I lived, ate, and trained within the slave kennels of the House of Diamandis, for in those early days I suffered from acute culture shock as I made the difficult transition to the new reality that now governed my life. You lose track of the days and nights to begin with, as everything is new, and everything you say, do, or don’t say, or don’t do seems to be punished with the whip. Sometime later I began counting days in my head and managed to keep track of perhaps thirty of them. So more than a month, by Earth standards, had passed before I was summoned to a Free Woman’s chambers.

 

Yes, a Free Woman, not Iona pretending to be one. 

 

An actual Free Woman of Gor. 

 

I suppose there is only so far a training slave can go, in her pretence at being free.   

 

“You will serve Lady Kelapina in her office. She is a Free Woman, not a slave playing a role. Beware of disappointing her,” said Iona one night as I practised softly massaging her back as she lay on her belly on a wooden bench.

 

“Her office, Mistress?”

 

“She is a slaver. This is a slaver house. She has an office.”

'On the Banks of the Bighorn' Part One: by Tracker

 

Emma’s preface: As I often mention, I not only approve of ‘Emma of Gor’ fanfic, but I actively encourage it! Tracker, a teller of tales, is writing a story consisting of a connected series of vignettes with an assortment of different narrators, based around the Frick Family, the Lazy F ranch, and other concepts that I’ve liked so much I’ve either incorporated them into my own writing, or soon will do (the Wyld Wymen and the Grand Duchy of Lutha, I have yet to use, but will be referenced in  Kajirus of Gor). I’m always delighted when people are inspired enough to write within the ‘Emma of Gor’ settings, but even more so when they come up with excellent ideas of their own that I can mercilessly exploit. Here then is the first instalment of his tale for your entertainment. 

 

-       Emma

 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Nine

 “That was… unexpected,” said Felicity as she softly squeezed the fingers of my left hand again. 

 

“Unexpected or unwelcome?” My head was swimming a little. I had acted impulsively, and already alarm bells were ringing in my head.

 

“Unexpected.” She smiled. “You must really like my dress.”

 

“I do.” 

 

“Show me again how much you like my dress?”

 

I shouldn’t. I knew this was wrong. It broke all my rules. But I kissed her again as she pressed her body softly against mine as we concluded our dance. 

 

Neither of us said anything as we returned to the bar. There was nothing really to say. I’d crossed a line, and once you cross a line, things can’t go back to being the way they were before. I watched as Felicity retrieved her small clutch bag from the barman, and, opening it with a click, picked out her mirror compact and a small tube of lipstick. “Look at the state of my lips,” she said with a soft smile. “Beast,” she whispered softly in amusement as a few brash strokes of the lipstick restored them back to life. “I suppose you’re going to take me home now?”

 

I didn’t say anything. I think we both knew what she meant by home. That it was an invitation to me.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Eight

 

From that point on, I threw myself fully into my lessons. I listened to everything Iona had to say, and I followed her instructions to the letter, trying to become the perfect silk slave who could soon be sold to a Free Woman. Why? Well, I had seen and heard of the alternatives: the harsh truth relating to silk slaves who had remained in the kennel pens longer than expected, because of some stubborn resistance. Escape was impossible from this place. I knew that. Escape would be almost as difficult in the collar and chains of a Free Woman, but the odds had to be better to some degree. And there was the cold hard fact of what happened to silk slaves in training who remained obstinate and resisted their submission. 

 

A slaver house will not accumulate the costs of housing such a slave indefinitely. It doesn’t make economic sense.

 

And so I learned to bathe a Free Woman, with Iona playing the part. There is delicate skill in soaping her body with a sponge, in first scenting the water of her pool to her precise requirements, in softly massaging her feet, in towelling her dry. 

 

All this has to be done without any evidence of sexual arousal. For a Free Woman feels incredibly vulnerable when she is naked, and even more vulnerable when she is naked in the presence of a man. Think then how vulnerable she would feel if she was naked, in the presence of a man, and that man was plainly aroused by her!

 

It would be unthinkable. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Seven

 

Three days later, as we knelt in the chamber of submission that was our training room, a Free Woman entered and turned to regard us both.

 

Only of course this was not a Free Woman at all, but rather Iona, the slave girl. She wore loose layers of opulent robes and gowns that shimmered as she turned on the spot. She wore soft sequinned slippers, the toes of which protruded from the floor length hem, and she wore layers of veils about her lower face, and a soft, floppy hood that concealed her hair.

 

She looked, as far as I could tell, every inch the proud Gorean Free Woman.

 

But it was the voice of Iona that spoke to us. “You may gaze upon me, fully, both of you.”

 

And so we did, and we were in awe of the figure that we now observed. 

 

“Behold a Free Woman of Argentum,” she said as she walked before us. Her gloved fingers motioned to us from the long, floppy sleeves of her garments. “Beware my anger. Beware my rage.”

 

“Mistress, I lowered my head without realising I had done so.

 

Beside me, Dexter did the same. It was an involuntary obeisance that came naturally to us both as such a regal figure addressed us.

 

But it was only Iona. I had to remind myself now that she was, herself, a slave girl. 

 

She too wore a steel collar that she couldn’t remove.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Six

 

Is it possible to fetishize a pair of shapely ankles?  

 

During my training I saw a lot of Iona’s ankles and lower calves, on account of the fact that I knelt and turned my gaze down towards her feet as she trained me. I watched those feet glide gracefully back and forth as she spoke. Slave paces. A slave walks in a beautiful fashion. Each step is precise and measured, soft and delicate.

 

I also sometimes saw the tip of her whip as it swished before my eyes. Many times I was made to kiss the supple leather as if I secretly yearned for it. 

 

I grew to desire those ankles and lower calf muscles on Iona. I wanted to kiss and touch them. They were always there, even when I didn’t dare gaze at the rest of the girl. The ankles, those I was always permitted to look at. I think it is possibly a form of conditioning, that enhances the appeal and allure of a dominant woman, if the male is only permitted to gaze at her lower legs and ankles for a long period of time. The view that he is permitted becomes fetishized to a degree where the subtle turn of an ankle becomes exciting. 

 

“She is fucking hot,” Dexter said, as we washed ourselves in the water trough, one afternoon after our lessons for the day were complete. “Those ankles..”

 

My ears pricked up at that. 

 

“I know what you mean.” 

 

“I hate the bitch for the way she treats me, but I can’t help but want her as well,” said Dexter. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Five

 

My training was humiliating. 

 

Much of it was menial, and yet Iona had exacting standards that Dexter and I were expected to meet.

 

“You will learn today to pour wine,” she said as I knelt before her. I was typically naked when I trained with Iona, and this made me feel exposed and vulnerable. What was particularly humiliating was the way she would smile when, much against my will, I grew aroused by something that really shouldn’t have aroused me. There’s no disguising an erection when you kneel in nadu, bereft of any garments.

 

“You enjoy training with me, Roland?” she said as she saw how stiff I was. It was crazy. There was no reason for me to be aroused. I was kneeling as a collared slave before a beautiful girl who held a short whip called a switch, and I knew she might use it at the merest sign of disrespect. There was nothing arousing about that, surely?

 

And yet, there was no denying my body felt healthy and alive after several weeks on this alien planet. The air was fresh, the food nutritious, devoid of any of the saturated chemicals and sugars that Earth food was routinely subject to, and this, combined with the exercise I received, meant I felt awake for the first time in years. It was as if on Earth I had been sedated, and not knowing any differently, I had assumed that was how people were supposed to feel. But here on Gor, my body felt alive, and with it came a stronger libido. A much stronger libido. 

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Eight (Final Chapter)

 

“I suppose I should ask why everyone is naked?” said Karl Magnus as he regarded Emily and myself, as we hovered in the ruined doorway of the farm house. Frick stood further out along the gravel path, and from what I could see, Emily had seriously mutilated him. Whether Frick would be capable of an erection again was a moot point, though I believe medical surgery can do wonders. 

 

I thought then that this was all over, that Frick had lost.

 

I underestimated Frick’s cunning.

 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Karl,” said Frick as he limped a step or two forward. “I tracked Simon Rogers down. You may or may not know he stole two of your slaves.”

 

What?!

 

“Mr Magnus, Sir!” I quickly protested.

 

“Shut up!” swore Frick, with as much of his steady voice as he could muster. He turned back to Magnus. “Apparently, as far as my sources tell me, he’s been having an affair with Miss Madison for quite some time. When she was enslaved and he thought he’d lost her, the boy stole her and one of the girls destined for my ranch. Walked them straight out the front door, bold as brass. Even acquired a gun and one of your cars.”

 

What the fuck?

 

“Mr Magnus – he was going to steal Emily!”

 

“Quiet,” said Magnus. He gave me a stern look of warning.

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Seven

 

“I’m so sorry, Mr Frick. I was just scared, so scared of Karl Magnus, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I would never normally do anything to disrespect you, but it was a moment of madness, that I really regret.”

 

“I’m sure you do, boy. I’m sure you do.”

 

Frick stared at me as I sat in a heavy wooden chair in the basement of the farm house that was bolted to the floor so that it couldn’t move. I had hoped that the sound of gunfire and a grenade going off would have roused the local police in the countryside to investigate, but an hour had gone by and there was no sign of anyone in blue. My ankles and wrists were secured to the legs and arms of this chair by thick leather straps threaded through buckles. I was naked and shivering. I was also having trouble controlling my breathing from the waves of panic that swept over me. 

 

I had seen this situation before in many films. I knew what this situation meant.

 

“I’m begging you, Sir. You have Emily now. She’s yours. Please don’t hurt me. Please.”

 

Emily knelt on the basement floor in nadu, with her wrists locked behind her back in a pair of steel slave bracelets. Her head and hair was down and in the harsh strip lights of the basement I could clearly see marks on her body that suggested she had been brutally raped upstairs while I sat down here, helplessly listening to her screams. 

 

I was honestly terrified. 

 

I don’t think I can stand much pain. 

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Six

 

I was only too aware that the clock was now ticking, and in maybe ten minutes or so we would see the tell-tale signs of car headlights as it drove down the narrow bumpy lane to this isolated farmhouse in the countryside.

 

For the first time in 24 hours I felt a trace of uncertainty that bordered on fear.

 

“You can’t be serious? You surmise all this from the way a single word was typed?”

 

“Yes! And if you go out there to greet those men, unarmed, they will kill you,” said Emily, again. 

 

“Wasn’t it you who implored me a short while ago not to carry a gun? Didn’t you say I’d probably shoot myself in the foot?”

 

“The circumstances have changed, Simon. And for God’s sake, will you please unlock these handcuffs?”

 

“Slave bracelets,” I corrected her.

Secrets of Gor Chapter Twenty One

 

By day fifty it was obvious to us all that we were learning nothing new, simply honing and perfecting the techniques, knowledge and serves we had learnt in earlier weeks.

 

This kennel had been my home now for ten weeks – two whole months of my life. On the evening of the fiftieth day, while we were playing with a wooden cup and two dice that a guard had given us, Anika looked at me and said, “I suppose you will be the first to leave, Cassie.”

 

I nodded. It was obvious enough. I didn’t belong to the House of Andronicus. I had a private collar. My ‘Master’ would soon come to collect me.

 

Leorah said nothing, she just leaned over and embraced me. Even Anthea crawled towards me and touched my nose gently with her own. 

 

“I’m going to miss you all,” I said, my eyes misting up. “I’m never going to see you again.” 

 

That was the horrible truth of being a slave. You might make friends, but there was no guarantee you would remain in contact with them indefinitely. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Four

 I received intensive training in the slave pens of Argentum.

 

The building and grounds occupies a prominent position in this Roman-esque city, and during my incarceration I saw nothing of the wider city outside of the area in which I was imprisoned, and in which I lived and learned. I was ignorant even of the other areas in which slave girls were trained. I knew they were there, because the slave trade in Argentum operates predominantly on female slavery, and I knew the kennel masters routinely bought and sold hundreds of such girls, many originating from my own planet.  

 

I also learned that most male slaves on Gor were bought and sold as captives of war and conquest, and that they were purchased mainly to endure hard manual labour, toiling away in mines and fields, living brutal lives during their time in bondage.

 

On day thirteen of my Gorean training, the briefly attired kajira, Iona, informed me that I was one of the ‘lucky ones’. 

 

“You will not dig coal in a dark mine shaft, or drag a plough against your shoulders, or endure the brutality and short life spans of those sent to work the salt mines. You are special, Roland, you are to be a Lady’s gentle silk slave.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Three

 

“I see no one bought you,” I said, as I walked to the stone water trough in the shaded part of the courtyard where Dexter Bannon was already washing his naked body. Like me, he had been sweating all day, chained on his own display platform for Free Women to touch and clinically examine, under the direct gaze of the fierce sun.

 

It amused me to see that his cock was still smaller than mine.

 

Okay, look, not that I particularly cared about the relative size, except that I knew it almost certainly bothered Dexter Bannon, and knowing he was uptight about it was always amusing.

 

“No one bought you, either, Roland, so don’t start on me!” Dexter continued to splash water over his chest and thighs as he spoke. He didn’t much care for me on Earth, and nothing had changed now that we were both slaves with steel collars on the planet Gor.

 

At least he hadn’t started saying…

 

“This is all a fucking mistake, and when my family find out, they’re going to have this fucking barbarian city razed to the fucking ground!”

 

Scratch that. He had. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Two

 

It occurs to me that I’m telling my story all wrong. I mean, what’s the point of a dramatic reveal that I was face to face with (gasp) Miss Chelsea Savannah Frick, when I haven’t even mentioned her before? That’s not the way it’s done. If I was a proper storyteller, I’d build up to that point by describing how I met her, and how our interactions went on Earth, before suddenly discovering she too had been taken to Gor! Then you could also sit back with surprise that she turns out to be a major player within this story.

 

Not Chelsea Savannah Frick?! 

 

Yeah, something like that anyway.

 

What can I say? This is my personal story, and it’s going to jump around a bit. 

 

“Oh, are you surprised?” Miss Chelsea Savannah Frick gazed up at me. Chelsea is five feet six inches tall, if she stood in her bare feet, and I’m six feet two inches, plus twenty inches of raised platform, so she was definitely looking up at me. Hardly helps a woman if she wants to feel dominant in front of a chained man, I guess. But Chelsea didn’t seem to have a problem with it. 

 

“How are you on Gor?” I asked, my mind racing now.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter One (an advance chapter ahead of the main series)

 

It was hot. Fucking hot.

 

I was sweating where I stood, my hands chained behind my back, a heavy steel collar locked around my throat, and a rag wrapped around my loins. That was the only garment I was allowed, and it was, I suppose, more for the modesty of the women gazing at me than for my own peace of mind.

 

I say rag, but I suppose if you read fantasy novels of the hack and slash variety you might call it a loin cloth. But that implies some sort of Conan like dominance, and the slave collar locked around my throat put paid to that notion.

 

A couple of men stood close by, and they were armed with swords and whips. They looked tough and I had no doubt they were. They had already used the whip on me earlier and I had screamed after the first few strokes. There was no way I wanted to feel it again. 

 

I stood, barefoot, on a wooden platform made from rough planks that was circular by design and raised from the earthen floor to a height of sixteen horts, which equates to about twenty inches on Earth. The hort is a Gorean measurement, and I’ve already begin thinking in terms of such things now that I’m a slave on that planet and have been taught the language by a slave girl called Iona.

 

That’s right. Taught to speak the language by a slave girl who carried a vicious switch. 

 

“Is he a barbarian? Does he have all his teeth?”

State of the Union address

 

Hello, lovely readers, or should I say Tal?

 

I thought I’d talk a little bit about what I have planned, going forward, in terms of writing. 

 

Steel World Inc only has three more chapters, with chapter 28 being the final one, so that’s nearly done and dusted.

 

Chloe is obviously working on the Secrets of Gor book, chapter by chapter, and we’re getting close to the halfway point there, so that will run for quite some time yet. Following Secrets of Gor I intend to turn my attention finally to the long delayed ‘Gods of Gor’ – the sixth book narrated pov by Emma. 

 

Yay!

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Five

 

Miss Whitlock prepared a lovely meal from the impressively stocked freezer in the out building, which we ate with a green salad freshly picked from the garden and a couple of glasses of a superb Beaujolais that boasted the most exquisite tasting notes of dark cherries, violets and just a hint of dried herbs. 

 

“I could get used to this,” I said as I sipped the wine, and relaxed at the garden table.

 

“What? Being on the run from gangsters?” suggested Miss Whitlock.

 

“Well, I’m not sure they’re gangsters, as such. Just very dangerous men.” 

 

Miss Whitlock of course had far less experience of the operation than I did. She just had to trust me when I described what I had seen so far. 

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Four

 “And you think this is real? A savage Counter Earth orbiting our sun? Space aliens visiting our planet to abduct women? I mean, you must see how ridiculous this all sounds. Why hasn’t anyone ever detected this planet Gor before?”

 

Miss Whitlock and I walked through the garden of the house that was nestled in the green belt outside the built-up confines of Southend-on-Sea. It was early afternoon, and despite her assertions that she wasn’t tired, I had suggested we both got a few hours rest after we arrived at the safe house. We rose shortly after one in the afternoon and drank some very good coffee as we admired the wildly overgrown bushes and vegetation dotted around the grounds. Although the house itself was well stocked with anything and everything a couple of fugitives might need, no one came around on a regular basis to tend the secluded garden. There was consequently a savage, untamed, natural beauty to the wilderness here, and the lack of maintenance had turned it into a haven for bees, butterflies and all manner of insects. Lily ponds boasted a wide range of amphibians, and the plants thrived, competing to grow out towards the sun. We sat down on some garden chairs overlooking one of the lily ponds.

 

“A lot of people seem to believe it exists, and I’ve seen with my own eyes that there is a sophisticated system in place for abducting and processing women,” I replied. “They are obviously being shipped somewhere in great numbers. If not an alien planet in our orbit, then the question remains: where?”

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Three

 

I was driving down the A3211 to East Smithfield, from where I would soon join the A13 and then the A127 all the way through to Southend-on-Sea. With hardly any traffic on the roads (the clock in the dashboard showed it was 4.32 in the morning) I might expect to be at Southend in time for a very early breakfast. 

 

Miss Madison sat in the passenger seat next to me, occasionally gazing quietly out of her side window as I drove. A gagged and bound Miss Whitlock had both the backseats to herself, and from time to time she would make some sound through her gag. Each time she did, I felt a pang of guilt that she was having to endure such deplorable conditions during the journey.

 

“I think maybe we should…”

 

“We’re not taking her gag off,” said Miss Madison in a voice that suggested she was in charge. 

Secrets of Gor Chapter Twenty

 

By the time of the twenty seventh day in the training pens, we were all beginning to relax and lose our sense of fear. We had learned a lot and with that came a growing sense of confidence. Now when we entered the wide training room in the morning, we glided in gracefully, backs straight, arms and fingers loose, taking small steps, like graceful birds, proud of our achievements to date. We would be chattering amongst ourselves, laughing, perhaps, at something we saw the day before, or brazenly critiquing one another’s progress to date.

 

“Your ankles are looking much trimmer now, Alika,” I might say. “Another few months and they may begin to approach the beauty of mine.”

 

“At least I remembered the ninth, thirteenth, and twenty first steps in our dance kata, yesterday. Thorn would have whipped you if she wasn’t laughing so much!”

 

“I need to do better there,” I agreed, and then Alika and I hugged and laughed at one another again. 

Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty Two

 

On reflection now, looking back, I may have underestimated the degree of shock and terror a woman might experience when she was suddenly woken up in the dark, in the middle of the night, with an intruder’s hand roughly covering her mouth. 

 

It’s a lesson learned.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, Arabella, I didn’t mean…”

 

She was crouched with her arms about her knees on the edge of her bed, as far away from me as was possible. She held a tabletop lamp in her right hand as some sort of weapon, and if looks could kill…

 

“How dare you! How dare you, Simon! And how did you get in here?” She suddenly noticed Emily standing to one side. “Miss Whitlock? What are you doing here?” Arabella’s eyes narrowed. “What are you wearing?” She blinked again and suddenly focussed on the steel collar locked on Emily’s throat. “Is that a slave collar?!”

Secrets of Gor Chapter Nineteen

A few days later, we graduated to training with the use of male slaves.

 

“Settle down, kajirae! NOW!”

 

We must have looked flustered and frightened as Thorn led four male slaves into the training room. Each one of them towered over Thorn, and yet they knew they must obey her implicitly. If a kajirus was whipped almost to death for touching an eight copper tarsk girl, it would be an actual slow, lingering, death if a kajirus dared to touch the Thorn of a slaver house.

 

“You know you can’t practise indefinitely on the apparatus,” said Thorn as she cracked a whip against the tiles. “You know there comes a day when you have to practise what you’ve learnt on an actual male.”

 

All four male slaves looked cold and brutal. They may well have been convicted criminals, forced into slavery. All four of them gazed at us like a sleen gazes at its prey.