The Paga Diaries (4) by Arizona Wanderer: ‘The Physician’

 

Trem and I walked along dark streets for a while, perhaps two and a half miles or so, or three and half pasangs.  I have always been good with figuring distances and my time as a soldier in the army gave me experience with conversions of metric distances.  One kilometre is .6 miles and one pasang is .7 miles, so they are almost the same.

 

Trem stopped at a tavern to get more paga to go and I tried to leave him, but he noticed and made a point of me going with him, helping him to the place he knew of where he could get medical attention.  He really wanted to talk to me and had a lot of questions.  But I didn’t understand much of it.  He made an effort to simplify things and slow down with his speech.  After a while I just listened to him talk.  I got the impression that he knew where we were going and that he wanted me to meet someone.  My gut feeling wasn’t helping either way, probably due to paga.  He also wanted me to drink with him, but I wanted to sober up a bit to focus on our surroundings and what might occur at our destination.

 

We finally entered a really nice neighbourhood with large mason block buildings.  I couldn’t tell if the buildings were exceedingly large homes or apartments. It was hard to tell in the dark.  We finally arrived at a building with a very large heavy wooden door with artful metal bands attached to it.  Trem started to pound on the door as soon as we got there.  It wasn’t even close to a knock; it was a constant pounding in twenty ihn bursts.  After three or four of these bursts, a man’s voice asked who was there.  Trem announced himself and mentioned what I guessed was a friend, meaning myself.  The man inside said something about needing a moment and Trem frowned. 

 

The large door finally swung inward and a very young man, a teenager, was holding a lamp, motioning for us to come inside.  The house was very dark inside but there was a formal foyer and we were guided to have a seat on a cushioned bench. 

 

We sat on the bench for probably ten ehn, which seemed like much longer.  Finally, the young man returned and with him were two other men.  One man had blond hair and blue eyes, very handsome, wearing a long loose white shirt.  He looked very tired and agitated, which was understandable at this late hour.  The second man, very large and muscular, was over six feet tall with a dark complexion and black hair.  He had a serious look about him that I wasn’t liking.  The large man immediately noticed my sword and there was an urgent, rapid conversation with Trem that had an unpleasant tone.  I was very uncomfortable and really wanted to leave.

 

Their conversation slowed down and they turned towards me.  They started to talk, more calmly now and though I didn’t understand what was being said, I knew it was about the sword.  I think they wanted me to surrender it, which I was hesitant to do.

 

I said “Barbarian, Gorean not good.”  The white shirted man looked at the young man and said, “Get Lina.”  The younger man left the room and soon returned with a young blonde woman, also with weary blue eyes, wearing a simple off-white tunic.  She entered the room and immediately knelt at the feet of the white shirted man.  She wore a collar.  The two of them spoke briefly before she looked at me and said “Sprechen sie Deutsch?”  German?  She spoke German!  In my youth, I had spent two wondrous years in Germany as a soldier in the American army. 

 

 “Ich spreche ein wenig Deutsch,” I replied.  And then I asked “Sprechen sie English?”  

 

 “My English is not good,” she replied. 

 

“It sounds great to me!” I said.  She then said something to the three men before returning to look at me and say “My name is Lina.  My Master wants me to translate.  Please excuse my English.”

 

“What is your name?” she said.

 

“My name is Rykart. What is your Master’s name?” I said.

 

“His name is Mirus and his assistant is Fen.”  “This is Trem,” she said pointing at the man who brought me here.  She did not introduce the serious fellow.

Mirus said to Lina who translated, “I promise no harm will come to you tonight.  This is my home and I do not know you.  You are a barbarian and the hour is late.  Please surrender your sword to Tereus.”  I looked to Trem who nodded slightly.  I met Tereus’s gaze and it wasn’t as intense as when he had walked into the room.

 

“Sir, I mean you no harm.  I do not know you, but I only wanted to help Trem to a safe place where he could receive aid for his injury.  I do not want to intrude and I will leave now,” I said.  I was nervous about leaving now and having to walk many pasangs, in the dark, at a late hour, back to the apartment.  I wasn’t very confident about finding the apartment easily. 

 

“Please stay and talk with us.  You have done us a favour this evening and we would like to discuss it with you.  You may leave at any time, but I am asking you to stay,” said Mirus, through Lina.  She spoke English well, with a very heavy German accent.

 

“Yes,” I said in Gorean.

 

Mirus said, “Please hand your sword to Tereus.”  Mirus seemed genuine in tone and manner.  I wasn’t getting a good or bad feeling about him.   I took off my belt with sheathed sword and handed it to Tereus.  He held the sheath in his left hand, which made me nervous. 

 

I was then asked to explain what I had seen and done in the alleyway and why I was there.  There was at least an ehn of silence amongst them while they were thinking about what I had said. 

 

“Why did you interfere?” asked Mirus.

 

“It looked like Trem was going to be murdered with a club and it didn’t seem right for me to just stand there.” 

 

“Many men would have left, especially if they could do so inconspicuously in the dark”, he said, countering my answer.

 

“I apologize if I have interfered in any way.  When I drew my sword, it was a reaction without much thought behind it.  If I have offended anyone,  I will leave now,” I said nervously but trying to remain calm.

 

“Are you a warrior?” asked Tereus.  I served in the army as a soldier a long time ago and I did not think of myself as a soldier anymore.  I knew it was a caste on Gor; one of the high castes.  I also knew that there was a code among warriors that was taken very seriously. 

 

“I am not a warrior,” I said.

 

“Why are you in Argentum?”

 

“I am recently arrived on Gor and I did not know which city I was in.  I could have asked but it didn’t seem important as I don’t know much about Gorean cities, and I don’t speak Gorean.” 

 

“Are you employed?” 

 

“Not presently,” I replied.   I wanted to go into detail about employment and occupations on Gor as I had thought a lot about it.  I didn’t think they were interested in those ideas at the moment.

 

Mirus, Trem and Tereus conversed for a bit before Mirus turned to me and said “You may have saved Trem’s life tonight and we are grateful.  A debt is owed to you.”

 

I didn’t know what this meant and I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t speak.

 

“Are you hungry?” Mirus asked.

 

I was.  It had been a long time since I had last eaten and I had done a lot of walking.  “Yes,” I said in Gorean.

 

The house was dark and there was a lamp in the foyer that we took with us down a hall into a small room with a large low table and several large cushions scattered around on the floor.  Fen left and returned with another lamp.  Mirus went to Trem and removed his bandage.  It was very bloody even though the wound had stopped bleeding.  Lina told me that Mirus and Fen were going into another room to dress Trem’s wound and that I should stay here with Tereus.  They left with a lamp and Lina then went to get us something to eat.

 

Tereus and I sat on cushions around the table in the dark and the silence was very awkward.  He had laid my sword on another table off to the side. 

 

Lina returned after a short while with the lamp and a platter loaded with bread and sliced cheeses.  She knelt in front of me and offered the platter.  I broke some bread and took some cheese.  She then stood up and went before Tereus who also took food from the platter.  She remained kneeling before him holding the platter in her lap.

 

The bread was absolutely delicious as was the cheese, especially when eaten together.  I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I tasted the food.  While I ate, I looked at Lina in the low light of the single lamp that had been placed on the table.  She was very attractive in her tunic and collar.     

 

Mirus eventually returned with Fen and the two of them sat on cushions too.  Lina got up and knelt before Mirus, offering him the platter, but he declined.  She then went and knelt before Fen who took some food and ate.  She then came back and served me again, which I appreciated.

 

We ate in silence and when finished, Mirus said through Lina “I am a Physician. Your drying and withering disease is curable.  Part of the debt that you are owed will be paid by curing this disease.”

 

What?  He was talking about my age and appearance!  The “cure” he mentioned is the stabilization serums that stop ageing.  There is also process with serums that reverse aging and restore youthfulness.  I had wondered how I was going to acquire this treatment.   The serums were a main reason I had wanted to come to Gor.  Of course the women on Gor, and how they are trained to please men, were the primary reason.  I would have come here for that reason alone.  The most intelligent priority would be placing the serums as number one, but the lure of kajirae is very powerful, overwhelming even.  Luckily, it doesn’t matter, as Gor has both!

 

“Thank you very much Sir!” I replied.

 

“We will begin four days from now and the procedure will be done in this house. Be prepared to spend a few days here for the treatment,” Mirus said.

 

“Please stay the night and enjoy the hospitality of my home,” he said.

 

It seemed more like a statement than a question but maybe that was because Lina was interpreting. 

 

“I accept your invitation,” I said.

 

“Lina will show you to your room and …” But Lina stopped interpreting and in Gorean I understood her to say, ”No please Master, not him, he is so old and ugly, please not him, not me!” or something like that!

 

Mirus stood up, walked over and swung a backhanded slap into her face, toppling her to the floor.  “Fetch the whip, slave!” he said.

 

Lina got up and ran from the room.  She quickly returned, knelt before the still standing Mirus and offered him the whip with both hands, head down.

He took the whip from her.  It was leather and had five straps or blades coming from the long handle. 

 

“Strip!” He ordered.

 

Lina quickly and gracefully removed her tunic.  Even in the low light, I could see that she was gorgeous!  Her body, curves, and proportions were all perfect.  I couldn’t help but take in a gasping breath at the sight of her.  She remained kneeling with her legs spread wide before us.  

 

Mirus spoke to her and Lina began to translate once again. “This slave is disobedient.  She has offended me in front of a guest and must be punished.  She has insulted you by refusing my order to serve you tonight in your chamber.  I understand if you are offended. She must be punished for her disobedience.  For her offence, I offer you the whip, in an attempt to correct the insult.”

 

I was not offended by her refusal, but I also thought it might be offensive to not accept Mirus’s offer.  I stood up and walked over to Mirus, who handed me the whip.

 

“Kneel to the whip!” he said.  Lina still kneeling, moved her legs close together, put her wrists held crossed under her, as though bound, placed her head down, touching the floor so that the bow of her back was exposed.

 

I had never whipped anyone, but if I was to become Gorean, and a slave owning master, I would have to learn.  I am sure there are numerous techniques to whipping a slave.  Do I focus on one area, repeating blows so that the pain is concentrated in one spot?  Do I go slow and use different intervals between strokes so that anticipation becomes impossible?  I don’t know but, honestly the naked slave kneeling before me awaiting my whip was very exciting and arousing.  I never thought of myself as a sadist. Was I going to enjoy whipping Lina?

 

I swung back and landed a hard stroke on her back.  She flexed a little but made no sound.  I hadn’t put my full strength into it but I thought it was a good stroke.  I swung again, hitting the same spot on her back.  I continued to strike the same spot and after the fourth one, she let out a little whelp.  She let out a louder cry on the next one.

 

I then moved my next strokes to her beautiful ass cheeks.  Her position wasn’t the best for whipping her ass, but I couldn’t resist.  She cried out with the second stroke on her cheeks and I continued until I had hit her five times there, ten strokes in all.

 

She remained in position and her ass turned bright red.  There was a very primitive and unexplainable feeling I got seeing her this way, naked, kneeling submissively and ass red from my strokes.  I wanted her very badly.

 

“Well done Rykart,” said Mirus.  “She is yours for the night.  Take the whip with you, you may need it,” he said in Gorean.

 

“Lina, take him to the guest quarters.”  He then spoke rapidly in Gorean and I did not understand it.