Outcast of Gor Chapter Fifteen

 

Kulai stood inside the bedding tent, gazing at me with a mixture of apprehension and excitement as I closed the flaps of the tent to the sound of cheering outside. I had taken her, tied her wrists together and led her, tethered to the tharlarion, through the throng of guests who applauded me for what was now going to occur. The other maids, Sevtlana included, were also tethered by their bound wrists to the saddle rings of the mighty tharlarion. I chose not to ride it, on account of my relative inexperience and intoxication, but that was okay. Everyone knew I was a novice in the saddle, and it wouldn’t do for me to fall en-route to the bedding tent. Even experienced riders don’t mount a tharlarion when they’re drunk.

 

“We are alone,” said Kulai as she gazed at the soft bedding, surrounded by scented candles. There was wine, there were plates of tasty delicacies and there was of course a whip resting on the bedding.

 

The placing of a whip on the bedding is part of the ceremony. The Free Companion is to angrily pick up the whip and cast it outside, to further cheers of the guests who are expecting that token of defiance, still. 

 

I moved towards her, placed my hands on her waist, and kissed my Free Companion. I was in effect now married – something I had never considered likely to happen to me. But aside from the gentle, insistent and downright threatening persuasion that Goreans had placed upon me, I did have another reason for finally accepting the inevitable and asking Kulai to companion me. I was still naïve and ignorant to the nature of this planet. Travelling alone, I would be at a disadvantage. Kulai would be incredibly helpful in teaching me the customs of this alien society and navigating my way through the people and places. She knew a thousand and one useful things. She could pick out berries and mushrooms that were safe to eat. She knew how to erect a shelter that wouldn’t fall down if there was a strong wind. She knew how to catch and prepare food. She could sew, light fires, tell which way was north and so on. Travelling and living with a companion would make my life a lot easier.

 

And she was good company. I may not be in love with her, the way she was in love with me, but she was good company. I think, had we met on Earth, Kuali and I would have been friends with benefits, as the saying goes. We would have spent time together, and undoubtedly one drunken night we would have ended up kissing and going on to have heated sex which, come the morning, would have made us both feel awkward, for it would have changed the dynamics of our relationship. We would probably have both been apologetic and reassured one another that it was just getting carried away in the heat of the moment, and can we just go back to being friends. But from time to time we would probably have ended up in bed together again, when one or other of us had broken up with their partner. Friends with benefits.

 

“I cannot easily undress myself,” she said, as we finished the kiss. “There are so many fiddly bows and clasps along the back of my garment.” This is of course deliberate. A free Woman has her companionship gown stitched in such a way that she is effectively a prisoner in it. It is exciting for the man to know that only he can undress her, and the undressing itself becomes a heated erotic act as the bows and clasps have to be unfastened slowly, one at a time, prolonging the lingering excitement of stripping a woman as she rests in your arms, growing more excited herself. I began doing so as my companion sighed with pleasure. 

 

“Am I the first man to strip you?” I asked, with a smile.

 

“Of course!” she said. “What do you take me for!”

 

It was unlikely that Kulai had never known the touch of a man before, but it was part of the Free Companionship pretence that she would deny any such experience in the past. Tonight she would be a virgin, in theory, anyway, and I would be expected to play along with that pretence. Rolfe had given me a small capsule of blood that I was to discretely smear between her thighs and on the sheets after withdrawing from her, so that there would be evidence no man had taken her before I had. This would have been arranged between Rolfe and Svetlana, and Kulai would know when to close her eyes or look away and pretend she didn’t know what I was doing. I would in effect be protecting the dignity of my woman. It is a common practice when men take a Free Woman who has been companioned before. It is a courtesy to her, and she feels good when the man can then throw the blood stained sheets out to the waiting guests as evidence that his companion has been taken. 

 

I felt Kulai’s soft body tremble as I drew the outer gowns down about her body, pooling the soft fabrics around her ankles. She closed her eyes tightly, smiling, a little embarrassed, for she knew what I would now see. Under her gowns she wore an underslip of course, but this was no common underslip - white, plain, straight line, unflattering – rather it was a tailored slip of exquisite fabric, heavily embroidered with small sequins. It was slave short, with a plunging valley between her breasts and was held by two thin spaghetti straps from her shoulders. In the soft candle light she looked incredible.

 

I was honestly surprised, but I know now that this is a common surprise men receive when they take their first companion. It is never spoken of in advance, but all men who have been companioned know the delightful surprise that awaits a man who is companioned for the first time. What Kulai wore was the bedding slip, and it is a garment she would never voluntarily wear again, unless her man chose one night to order her to do so. It could easily be mistaken for a slave garment, except for its richness, its quality, its finely embroidered detail. 

 

At what point does a Free Woman’s slip come to resemble the salacious garment a slave might be dressed in? The truth is, a Free Woman’s slip comes close to being a slave garment, save for its longer hem, more modest frontage and richer fabric. But the bedding slip is fashioned to excite a man as he gazes at the woman’s body for the first time. It is meant to remind him, perhaps, of the garment a slave might wear, but in its expensive finery, obviously could never be worn by a slave.

 

“Do you like it?” she whispered. “It is the secret of a companioned Free Woman. It is our surprise for our man on the bedding night.”

 

“It’s beautiful.” I kissed her again. “Does Rolfe know?”

 

“Of course!” Rolfe had not told me. He had grinned and winked as I had entered the bedding tent, and now I knew where part of that wink came from. “Rolfe and Svetlana inspected this garment as it was stitched together and they both made adjustments to it in accordance with propriety. Rolfe said he thought you would like it.”

 

“Rolfe was right.” I kissed her again. I was now very hard, and Kulai could sense this.

 

“I am your woman, now,” she breathed into my ear. “Wholly and completely your woman.”

 

“I know.” I kissed down the length of her neck and between her breasts. I heard her gasp with pleasure. 

 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I knew I would fall in love when I first set eyes on you.”

 

Two women were now telling me they loved me, but what a difference between those women. Kulai, noble and free, proud and fierce. Kelsee, slave like in her collar and becoming more of a slave with each passing day. How glorious it would be to have them both as they are now – one free, one slave. How wonderful Gor is, I thought, as I touched and tasted my companion. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Kulai said.

 

“Of course.”

 

“You are a barbarian, aren’t you?” she gazed up at me.

 

“I am, yes.” 

 

“I knew it. It explains your strange ways. It explains the way you are with your slave. Svetlana thought so, too.”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“No. It doesn’t matter, beloved.” She kissed me softly. “I will teach you to be Gorean. I am your woman now. You will have a fine teacher.” 

 

Gor was to be my home now, for better or worse, and Kulai would teach me what I needed to know to adapt and to fit in with this alien society. Like the principle character in Shogun, stranded in feudal Japan after a shipwreck, I would learn to adapt and become a Gorean man. 

 

“One moment, beloved,” she said as she reached for the whip that lay on the bedding. “You will not be needing this,” she said, wagging a finger in my face and tutting.

 

“I am told the whip is needed for Free Companions who turn out to be less than dutiful and obedient?”

 

“As I said, you will not be needing this.” She walked to the tent flap, opened it slightly and, showing only her bare lower arm, tossed it out onto the grass to spontaneous laughter from the men outside. She quickly drew the flap back again and regarded me.

 

“You have no whip now.”

 

“Apparently not. Will you be obedient?”

 

“Of course.” She tossed her hair, defiantly. “Within reason.”

 

“I can still spank you with my open palm,” I suggested. 

 

“Then I shall be very obedient, with no reservations!” she said, quickly. 

 

“Much better. Now go our bedding, pretty Kulai of Turia.”

 

She did as I said and lay on the bedding, her excitement now palpable. There was something I had to address first, of course. It would be an awkward moment, but it was one that Rolfe had discussed with Svetlana, and Svetlana had informed Kulai, accordingly. Beside the flask of wine was a small cup of a very different wine: the wine of the noble Free Woman. I had no intention of making Kulai pregnant, tonight or any other night that we lay together. From what I knew about the health of Goreans in general, and the qualities of the stabilization serum, Kulai was probably very fertile. It wouldn’t be difficult to impregnate her. 

 

The wine of the noble Free Woman would render Kulai infertile until such a time that I permitted her the releasing antidote. It’s worth stressing that this is an unnatural state for a Free Woman. Kelsee had taken the contraceptive serum because she owned a slave – me – and she didn’t want to risk becoming pregnant from an accident with her slave. That was understandable. But a Free Woman who is not companioned has no need for the contraceptive serum. Obviously she is not going to have sex, unless she is wealthy enough to own a silk slave. And once she is companioned she will not need the contraceptive serum because obviously her man will want her to bear him children. 

 

QED.

 

I might add that the wine of the noble Free Woman is made from sip root, which is the same sip root that slave wine is made from. Essentially, then, the wine of the noble Free Woman and slave wine are indistinguishable, except that slave wine is bitter and raw, whereas the wine of the noble Free Woman is sweetened with pleasant spices and sugars. I understand it is quite delicious to drink. 

 

Rolfe and Svetlana had together gone out into the countryside and found a sip root which together they had ground and mixed into the liquid that now resided in this cup. 

 

It had been a very difficult subject for Rolfe to raise with Sevtlana for two reasons. Firstly, Gorean women are raised with the expectation that at some point in their long lives they will bear children for a man. It is inconceivable to them that a man would not want them to. Goreans love children and place a great value on the future of their family lineage. Rolfe had once said to me that the greatest blessing a Free Woman could bestow on her man is to bear him a strong, healthy son. 

 

In fact, Rolfe even had a name in mind for the son he would eventually have from Svetlana: Rolfe the younger.

 

The second reason is that by implication there is the suggestion that the man is not serious about his companionship if he does not wish children. One of the main reasons why companionships are renewed indefinitely on Gor is because a woman will be keen to bear children as swiftly as possible. Once she has given her man a son, he is unlikely to leave her, for who would send away a child’s natural mother? Children then are security for a Free Woman who has surrendered her dowry. The fact that I didn’t want children at the present time would be worrying to Kulai, as it was to Svetlana. Rolfe had argued on my behalf that it was simply not sensible for Kulai to be pregnant before we found a home for ourselves. A pregnant woman walking the roads of Gor is not an ideal situation. She would need security and a place to call home before she went into labour.

 

The truth was I didn’t think we would be renewing our relationship in a year’s time, and so I was keen to avoid the complications that a child would bring. I am a decent man, honest and responsible, honourable even. If I secretly knew that my relationship with Kulai would be limited in term, I could not allow her to become pregnant. When the time came for us to go our own ways, I would see that she was safe, comfortable, and with plenty of money to call her own. I would not simply abandon her. In fact, provided she didn’t hate me, provided she didn’t want to never see me again, I would look out for her and be there if she needed support. I would do right by Kulai. 

 

But if I was to have children, it would be with Miss Felicity Emery – the slave girl called Fliss. 

 

I could see the disappointment in Kulai’s face as I picked up the cup containing the contraceptive. 

 

“Please…” she begged me. “We will be in Corcyrus in just a few weeks. We will make a home there, together. I will make a wonderful home for us, beloved. Do not do this to me. Let me bear you a son. A daughter, even. I can give you a son. I know I can. A strong son who will be so proud of his father.”

 

“The time isn’t right, Kulai. There is much danger. There is a war. We may be caught up in it.”

 

There were tears in her eyes. I realised then what a terrible thing I was asking of her. Gorean Free Women do not want to be infertile. It goes against everything they have been taught. It was almost as bad as having her hair shorn. 

 

“Please, beloved, I beg of you. Do not render me barren.”

 

“it is only for a while,” I lied. I hated myself for not being honest with her, but honesty would have its own problems.

 

“I am a woman,” she sobbed. I think she had hoped that here in this tent I might be persuaded to change my mind. She lay on the bedding in her short slip, ready to receive me, and I was taking away the one thing a Free Woman hoped for on her bedding night – to be fertile, to conceive. “Let me be a woman, please, beloved. Our children will be beautiful.”

 

I really felt wretched. This was souring the mood. In fact, I was now losing my erection, and Kulai, too, was no longer aroused. I sat down beside her. I embraced her. She began to cry. “I am a woman. It is my duty to be fertile for you. Why do you not want this? Why? I do not understand? What is wrong with you that you do not want this precious gift from me?”

 

“I am thinking of you,” I said, as I placed the cup on the ground beside our bed. “I am thinking of your health.”

 

“I want to bless you, Roland. I want to bless you with a strong son! Why do you take this from me? I will do anything for you. And yet you treat me as unworthy.”

 

“No,” I said, “that’s not true.”

 

“It is! You do not think I am worthy to conceive. You didn’t even want this companionship, did you? You just took pity on me. I love you so much, and I’m stupid for feeling this way, but I can’t help the love I feel for you. I can’t help loving you, no matter what you take from me.” She was crying.

 

“Kulai, it is true I wasn’t looking for companionship, and it is true I didn’t understand your customs, but I am your companion now, and I do not regret it.”

 

“So make love to me, Roland of Newark. Make love to me in the manner that the Priest Kings will bless with their fruit. I will only ever ask one thing of you, only one thing. I will be dutiful and obedient in everything else, and I will cherish and honour you, and I will fight for you, and I will never betray you, but please, please, please, my beloved, do not do this to me. I kneel before you, weeping and begging on our bedding night. Please do not do this to me. I would rather you whip me like a slave than you do this to me.”

 

“I am sorry, Kulai, I really am.”

 

And then I picked up the cup and held it before her lips. “You have to drink this.”