Outcast of Gor Chapter Fourteen

 

It was inevitable, I suppose. 

 

I stood beside Kulai, surrounded by men holding burning torches raised in their right hands. I wore, for the first time on Gor, a long, feasting robe. Kulai wore a long embroidered gown with flowers bound in her hair. She looked radiant. She looked beautiful. She looked beguiling. Despite everything, I felt compelled to gaze at the beautiful sight of my companion to be in her feasting gown. Someone once told me that love is what you see reflected in their eyes, and I saw nothing but love and admiration in Kulai’s eyes, now. How could she have fallen in love with me so quickly? Was it even possible?

 

“You are so handsome,” she whispered as we stood there with our arms bound together with folds of white linen. My left wrist and Kulai’s right wrist had a length of white cloth wound loosely about them. Rolfe had been the one to do this. He winked at me as he stepped back. 

 

Svetlana, Danata and the lovey Mishka, were Kulai’s maids of honour. They too wore long gowns of samite white, with flowers arranged artfully in their hair. I smiled as I saw Svetlana gaze once or twice in Rolfe’s direction. Rolfe couldn’t stop looking at her, and he grinned each time their eyes met. It had seemed necessary for Rolfe and Svetlana to meet often in order to plan the details of my companionship with Kulai. There were so many details to consider. Often these planning meetings were held in private. Often they took place in the evenings.  

 

I had the honour of the ceremony being officiated by Stannis and Livinnia. I suppose a man of Gor would consider it an incredible honour for the legendary Stannis Assante to pronounce the companionship and then bless it to be fruitful in the name of the Priest Kings. That is the sort of thing men would speak of for decades to come. 

 

Livinnia acted as the matriarch who led Kulai to me. She had personally arranged the flowers in Kulai’s hair, and had lined her eyes with kohl. She had fussed over her in the way an older sister might. And she had arranged the multitude of Kulai’s companionship veils. This was the first time I had seen Kulai veiled, but it would not be the last time, by any means. Once we travelled away from this camp she would have to become accustomed to veiling herself fully. She knew this of course. These veils were highly decorative, made from silk embroidered with sparkling sequins that reflected the torchlight. Only her kohl lined eyes were clearly visible as Livinnia led Kulai to my side.

 

“How do I know I’m companioning the right woman?” I whispered as she joined me, placing her right hand beside my left for binding. 

 

She laughed softly at that. “Pray that I am your beloved Kulai and not some lowly peasant girl with wide hips who has taken her place. She would ride you hard like a bosk dragging a plough!”

 

“Roland of Newark,” said Stannis. He wore dark robes of exceptional quality and finery. His black hair was oiled and tied back. His beard was neatly groomed. “You stand before me desiring the companionship of Kulai of Turia.”

 

“I do,” I said.

 

“What can you possibly offer Kulai of Turia?”

 

“The strength of my sword arm, the courage of my manhood, and the love of my heart.” These were the words I’d been told to speak. 

 

“Kulai of Turia, what can you possibly offer Roland of Newark?”

 

“The dignity of my bearing, the obedience of my sex, and the love of my heart.”

 

“Companionship in the eyes of the Priest Kings is for a term of one year. During that year, Roland Of Newark, you are committed to protect and cherish your Free Companion, to provide for her, to comfort her, and to take responsibility for her life in all things.”

 

“That I will do.

 

“And you, Kulai of Turia, surrender your personal independence, submitting to this man as your protector, your master, your beloved. You will obey and respect him in all things, doing nothing that might besmirch his honour. You will be an obedient and dutiful companion.”

 

“That I will do,” said Kulai, her kohl rimmed eyes sparkling. “Gladly! Happily! Obediently!” she added, which made men chuckle and applaud softly. 

 

“Stand, facing one another now.”

 

My left wrist and Kulai’s right wrist were still loosely bound together by the strip of linen. 

 

“Part the veils and observe your woman,” said Stannis.

 

Men watched eagerly, for the unveiling of a woman is always an exciting sight, even though every man here was familiar already with Kulai’s face. With my free right hand I slipped the veils from the restraining pins, one veil at a time, and as each veil was removed, her lovely features became clearer and clearer, until only the last gossamer veil remained. When that too was taken from her, I saw her again for the first time that day.

 

She parted her lips and closed her eyes as I touched those lips with my own, claiming them as my property. 

 

“You may now drink the wine of Free Companionship.” 

 

An ornate goblet was handed to me. I placed the rim to Kulai’s lips and watched her drink from the side. Then I drank from the same side, myself, my lips touching where hers had been. Again, I was claiming her lips for myself.

 

“You are now Free Companions,” remarked Stannis. “My congratulations. Let the feasting commence!”

 

There were loud cheers from all the warriors assembled around us, but none louder than the cheers from Rolfe, Rollo and Hergessvar – my friends.  

 

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Several days ago.

 

Kulai’s presence by my side had been a complete shock to Kelsee. Ideally, I had wanted to speak to her in advance and explain what had happened, but that hadn’t proven possible, so when Kulai approached Kelsee for the first time, Kelsee had not had any warning it was going to happen.

 

“Obeisance, girl, NOW!” 

 

Kelsee’s eyes were wide with fright as this Turian Free Woman stood before her. Instantly, Kelsee leaned forward from her knees, placing her forehead and the palms of her hands to the grass. 

 

“My name is Kulai of Turia,” she declared. “I am courting your master.”

 

God knows what horrible thoughts were going through Kelsee’s mind as she heard those words. The last time I had spoken to her, I had dismissed the gossip that I was courting a Free Woman. And now I had appeared after a period of enforced absence, with Kulai at my side. This wasn’t how I wanted things to play out.

 

“Kiss and lick my boots,” said Kulai. She thrust a small, booted foot towards Kelsee’s head.

 

Kelsee raised her head and looked miserable as she slid forward to begin kissing and licking the tooled leather. The palms of her hands remained on the ground as she did this.

 

“Why isn’t she branded?” asked Kulai.

 

“She is a fairly new acquisition,” I said. “I am going to have her branded in Corcyrus.”

 

Kelsee trembled slightly as she heard those words. She trusted me, still, I think, but the appearance of Kulai had shaken some of that trust. Why had I denied I was courting Kulai? And of course, any talk of branding her was frightening for the girl, even if she knew I didn’t mean it.

 

“Slaves should be branded sooner rather than later.” Kulai turned to regard me. “Surely even in Newark that is the case?”

 

“I want to get a beautifully positioned brand for her thigh. There will be skilled artisans in Corcyrus.”

 

“You do know that Free Women are commonly offended by the sight of a slave girl without a brand? It is not something we are happy to tolerate.”

 

“She wears a collar,” I pointed out. “A collar she cannot remove. It marks her as a slave. There is no mistaking what she is.”

 

Kulai said nothing. I could see she wasn’t happy that there would be a girl travelling with us who had a clean unmarked thigh.

 

“It is wrong. Anyone would tell you the same thing.”

 

“They do,” I said. “All the time.”

 

“Have her branded in this camp. We have a good metal worker.”

 

“I will wait until we reach Corcyrus.”

Kulai regarded Kelsee now with some measure of resentment. Had I just made things worse for Kelsee by refusing to have her branded at Kulai’s request? 

 

“Are you a slut, girl?”

 

It was an impossible question for Kelsee, and also something of a trap if she dared to reply no. Contradicting a Free Woman was not a good idea if you happened to be a slave, kneeling before her. The only safe thing would be for her to say, yes.

 

“I am, Mistress,” said Kelsee, as she lifted her lips, momentarily from Kulai’s leather boots.   

 

“You look like a slave,” she said. “You have the body of a slave, and no doubt you have the slut reflexes of a slave.”

 

“Yes, Mistress,” said Kelsee.

 

“Continue kissing and licking my boot with your slut tongue.”

 

Kelsee lowered her mouth again. 

 

“As you can see, she’s obedient,” I said. “She is new to her collar, but she strives to be pleasing.”

 

“You are an insult to my sex,” remarked Kulai as she clicked her fingers before Kelsee. “Enough.” 

Kelsee dropped her head back down into obeisance. 

 

“I am going to whip you now,” said Kulai as she drew the switch from her belt ring. I heard Kelsee moan in fear. “It will be an admonitory whipping so you know what will happen should you displease me in any way. You may be new to your collar, slave slut, but you will learn quickly and you will not dare make mistakes in my presence. Whipping position NOW.”

 

Kelsee cried piteously as Kulai whipped her about her flanks, laying five blows on each side. She then returned the switch to her belt ring. 

 

I couldn’t watch. It was Kulai’s right, apparently, now that I was courting her. Rolfe had told me so. I wasn’t to ever interfere if my companion-to-be wished to discipline my slave. That is how it was on Gor. I must always side with my companion. 

 

“You are under the discipline of a Free Woman now, slave slut. You will find I am less inclined to overlook flaws in your behaviour than a man might. Now thank me for your whipping, speaking your name.”

 

“Kelsee thanks her mistress for whipping her,” sobbed Kelsee. “She will strive to be a pleasing slave.”

 

“See that you do, slut.”

 

---------------------------------

 

There was no shortage of good food, wine and paga. Everyone feasted well. Men I had never seen before came up to me, slapped me on the shoulder or back and congratulated me on such a fine choice of companion. 

 

“You will be begging her on bended knee to renew the companionship in a year’s time,” said a gruff warrior who had seen many summers of campaigning in his life. “Companionship brings out the finest qualities in a man.”

 

“You are a lucky man to have Kulai of Turia submitting to your dominance,” said another. “She will kiss your hand tonight in the bedding tent and submit herself to your will.”

 

“She will bear you fine sons,” said another as he drank from a cup of paga.

 

I thanked them all. It feels strange to feel so popular, even if only for one night. 

 

I had of course done what was expected of me. I had announced before the food was served that Kulai of Turia would know my intimate touch tonight, after we retired to the bedding tent. Kulai had acted alarmed and outraged, telling all the guests that she would offer me nothing more than soft kisses and the touching of our hands together. There were roars of laughter, for this was part of the ceremony. Kulai withdrew immediately to the security and safety of her three maids who brandished switches at the assembled men, swearing that no man, least of all the lustful Roland of Newark, would enjoy the intimacies of Kulai of Turia tonight or any other night.

 

“I’m looking forward to this part,” remarked Rolfe as the women withdrew to apparent safety. “Can we start to approach them now?”

 

“I suppose,” I said. I rose, placing my fists, knuckles down, on the table and declared, “the maids feel confident that no man here can subdue them?! Is there any man present who can prove them wrong?”

 

There were loud cheers and raising of goblets as the three maids stood guard over a demure looking Kulai who knelt in tower behind them. The maids brandished their switches and made comical growling sounds, like she-larls protecting their young.

 

Rolfe was first on his feet, swaggering over to the assembled maids, to start the game. “Svetlana! Beauteous Svetlana! Why do you hold your switch, so?”

 

“To beat away lustful men and protect the virtue of fair Kulai of Turia,” she declared, one hand on her shapely hip, the other swishing the switch through the air in warning. “Away with you, Rolfe of Kassau. I know what beastly thoughts run through that head of yours. Run away quickly if you do not want a sore ass!”

 

Rolfe made a playful pretence of trying to disarm Svetlana in particular, only to be whipped away by light blows from all three maids who swarmed about him like wasps. He retreated, laughing, but not before he whispered something into Svetlana’s ear that made her laugh, too, and beat him all the more.

 

“They are too much for me,” he declared to all the cheering male guests with an extravagant gesture of his open arms. “Such sharp switches! They are possibly too much for any man here?”

And so it began, with other men gradually trying their luck. The point was of course that I would ultimately be the only man capable of subduing and restraining the guardian maids and claiming Kulai for my pleasure. 

 

“That actually hurt,” grumbled Rolfe as he sat back down and reached for his paga. “If that was Svetlana pulling her blows, I wouldn’t like to be an errant slave girl who looked at her the wrong way.”

 

“She has a sharp switch, then?”

 

“And an eager arm with which to swing it. She whipped me about my ass!”

 

“I think she enjoyed doing so. She likes you, it seems.”

 

“I told you she would, eventually,” remarked Rolfe. “I am irresistible.”  

 

“All those planning meetings running on late into the night.”

 

“You would be surprised how little planning there actually was,” said Rolfe, innocently, but with a sidelong wink.

 

“I hope things develop well, truly I do.”

 

“Well, she knows I will be leaving for the front line, but I have promised to return soon, provided a Corcyrian spear doesn’t finish my career. We shall see what we shall see.” Rolfe touched his paga cup to my wine goblet. “Life is good, isn’t it, Roland of Newark?”

 

“Life is good,” I admitted, feeling the wine rush pleasantly to my head.

 

Was I falling in love with Gor? Possibly. 

 

The evening became a series of toasts to me, followed by food, followed by stories and laughter, followed by more toasts, until finally men began thumping the tables and demanding I claim my companion.

 

“The maids are too much for any man here,” called out a warrior. “We have all been defeated. Who then can claim Kulai of Turia to her bedding tonight? It seems to be beyond us all!”

 

“I shall show you all how it is done,” I declared, rising to my feet. Luckily I’m used to drinking wine, because I’d had a fair amount by then. 

 

The maids looked defiant as I approached, carrying some coils of binding fibre in my left hand. 

 

“He carries binding fibre!” cried Mishka in pretend alarm.

 

“What of it?” declared Danata. “ We have our switches, and the dignity of being proud Free Women!” There was laughter as she adopted an over the top comical stance of defiance. She dipped into a little curtsey as the men applauded her. 

 

“We shall send him running and squealing back to the other men,” said Svetlana. She actually sounded like she was taking this seriously. 

 

But of course this time I would be permitted to overpower them, one at a time, seizing and discarding their switches, binding their wrists before their bodies and then leading them to a waiting tharlarion where I might secure their bound wrists to the saddle rings. Then, and only then, would I go to claim Kulai for my bedding tent. Decades ago Kulai had been one of the maids at Livinnia’s ceremony. It was the Turian custom for Free Companionship, and Kulai had asked me to honour her with it and respect the customs of her people. I began with Danata, to loud cheers from the guests, then moved on to the beautiful Mishka, and finally the proud Svetlana. 

 

“Lovely Svetlana,” I said as I secured her wrists to the saddle ring on the left, having cast her switch aside. Svetlana had actually put up some proper resistance and I had been forced to impress upon her my superior strength. She winced as I tightened the knots, securing her to the saddle thong.

 

The other two women were secured together to the saddle ring on the right. They laughed and made a pretence of their own helpless wriggling, as was expected of them. “Can you free yourself?” I asked Svetlana.

 

“No,” she said. “Your knots are very tight.” Her wrists were raised above the height of her forehead. 

 

“Excellent,” I said, with a knowing smile as I stepped aside for the moment. I was supposed to return now for Kulai,  but I paused for a moment. No one could understand why, least of all Svetlana. She wriggled a little in her tight bonds and looked at me. It occurred to her now that for the first time in decades she was truly helpless before a man. “Should you not be going to fetch Kulai?” she asked me.

 

“All in good time.” I folded my arms and continued to watch. She wriggled again. Men on either side began to sense something was happening. They laughed to see the proud Svetlana struggling with her bonds. They laughed some more when she looked so incredibly frustrated. “You should go and fetch Kulai,” she said, again.

 

“Are you not supposed to be insisting I do not?” I asked.

 

“Yes! Of course! Do not go after Kulai!”

 

“I am not.” I smiled at her. Now the guests were getting very curious. I heard murmurs amongst them. They didn’t know of course what had been planned, but this was a new development. 

 

Svetlana wriggled a little more in her tight bonds but still, she was absolutely helpless. “What is going on?” She stamped her foot. She looked around. Mishka and Danata were trying not to smile. They were obviously in on this. “What is going on?!” She struggled at the ring again. Still she could not free herself. 

 

Rolfe rose from the table and washed his hands clean in a water bowl. He took his time greeting a few warriors that he knew by name, as he walked casually round the table, in the direction of the tethered Svetlana.

 

“What is going on?” Svetlana demanded, again. 

 

“Sevetlana, oh, Svetlana,” cried Mishka, from the other side of the saddle. “We are bound tightly to this sleen’s tharlarion! We look to you for aid, sweet sister, for you are the strongest and fiercest of us all! Surely you will free yourself and save us?”

 

Svetlana struggled again. She really was bound very tightly indeed.

 

“What is going on?!” she demanded.

“You are tied to a tharlarion,” I observed. “Helplessly, I might add.” There was more laughter from the men as they began to sense what might be happening now. One glance at Kulai showed she was in on this too. 

 

And then Rolfe was there beside Svetlana. Svetlana took a step back, as far as her short tether allowed, which wasn’t very far.

 

“Greetings,” said Rolfe. “Lovely Svetlana.”

 

“Sleen,” she said. She blushed and tossed her hair. She was helplessly tied before a man with whom she had spent many private and, she supposed, secretive nights, though frankly word had spread recently around the camp site. I may have been to blame for that. 

 

“Your wrists appear to have become trapped in some carelessly discarded binding fibre,” observed Rolfe.

 

“It is nothing,” said Svetlana, defiantly. “I will be free soon.” She strained on tip toes and tried to reach the binding fibre with her teeth. There was a reason I had tied her hands so high above the level of her forehead. She strained on tip toes as much as she could, snapping her teeth an inch or two from the bindings in frustration. 

 

“If only you were taller,” observed Rolfe. He seemed happy to watch. She wriggled again and men around the feasting tables laughed. She stamped her foot and again tried to raise herself up on tiptoes. “Oh!” she cried, in frustration.

 

“Will this take long?” enquired Rolfe. “The freeing yourself, that is?”

 

“Sleen!” she blushed again as Rolfe drew closer, pushing her back against the tharlarion. “Oh!” she cried, as she felt his hands on her waist.

 

“Lovely Svetlana, I keep thinking about you,” said Rolfe in a loud stage whisper, meant for everyone to hear. “You are so proud and haughty, but also so beautiful.”

“Oh!” she cried again as he touched her nose with his. 

“I have made up my mind, and I am now determined to kiss you. What luck that I find you tied helplessly to a tharlarion saddle ring!”

 

“You cannot kiss me!” she declared, turning her face away. “I wear a ribbon of defiance!”

 

“I see.” And then Rolfe placed his hand on the ribbon. “You mean this ribbon?” There was suddenly deathly silence in the camp, except for a few gasps as men now realised what was happening.

 

And with a swift tug, Rolfe undid the slip knot in the ribbon. Suddenly, Svetlana’s long hair cascaded down around her shoulders. A man had unbound her hair!

 

“Now I can kiss you, it seems.” And he did. He pressed his lips to those of Svetlana. And now she wriggled far more quickly as she surrendered to that kiss. When she finally came up for air, there was much laughter around the tables and the thumping of fists on the tables in approval.

 

“Svetlana kisses well!” cried a man. There were peals of laughter following that remark.  

 

“Rolfe! Rolfe!” cried many of the men. Rolfe took a small bow. “The proud, haughty Svetlana!” cried other men. “No man can ever kiss her and live to tell the tale!”

 

And then Rolfe turned back to Svetlana. He was now holding a second ribbon in his hand that had been concealed for a time in his tunic. It was, of course, a ribbon of courtship.

 

“Oh!” cried Svetlana, again, but I could see the excitement in her eyes as Rolfe held the ribbon before her.

 

“What is this? A proud, haughty, un-companioned Free Woman of Turia with her hair unbound? What luck that I, the humble Rolfe of Kassau, happen to be passing with a ribbon of courtship in my hand.”

Now Svetlana began to laugh, understanding what this was about. Her eyes lit up as she presented herself, standing straight and proud before the man she had secretly grown to know this past week or so. 

 

“I am going to bind your hair, Svetlana the proud, Svetlana the haughty, Svetlana, the woman of Rolfe of Kassau.” And so he did.

 

There was thunderous applause around the tables. 

 

And then, when Svetlana the proud, Svetlana the haughty, leaned forward and offered her lips freely and of her own will, the applause and cheering became deafening.