Outcast of Gor Chapter Nineteen

I allowed Kelsee to sleep while Kulai and I set up camp.

 

“I will whip her when she wakes,” said Kulai. She crouched beside a text book perfect camp fire that was frankly a work of bushman art. It even had a wooden frame from which a kettle pot hung.  

 

“Show the girl some pity. She thinks I am taking her to Darian Athuk’s camp to have her branded.”

 

“Good.” Kulai picked up her knife and began skinning a pre-gutted rabbit-like creature. Her hands moved quickly, making cuts that allowed her to then pull the skin and fur from the animal. She then started to quickly cube the meat, ready for a stew.

 

“I’m not actually taking her to be branded,” I added. “You do know that?”

 

“Why will you not do this one thing for me?” Kulai looked up in anguish, brandishing that sharp knife rather carelessly as she did so. “Her thigh is as smooth as my own. Without a collar she might be mistaken for a Free Woman. How do you think that makes me feel, beloved?”

 

“She can’t remove the collar. It marks her clearly as a slave.”

 

“Slaves should be branded,” said Kulai. “I feel strongly about the matter.”

 

I crouched beside Kulai and reached out to touch her. “Why do you hate Kelsee so much?”

 

“I don’t hate her. She’s far beneath my hate and contempt. She’s simply a slave. I just don’t like her touching you.” Kulai shrugged. “I like to be close to you, and she gets in the way. She’s always there, whimpering. And she’s so needy! I really don’t know what you see in her.”

 

I smiled. Kelsee’s so needy? 

 

“May I whip her, please? She needs to be whipped when she acts up like that. She’s ill-disciplined. I don’t understand what she says to you, but I can tell her tone is anything but submissive and respectful. Why do you permit her to speak so?”

 

“I’m a barbarian, remember?”

 

“You need to be more Gorean, beloved. You need to master your slave.”

 

I grinned.

 

“No, I didn’t mean… not in the furs…” Kulai looked flustered. “Not in the furs!” 

 

“I could master her tonight?” I suggested. “In the furs?”

 

“No! Stay with me, stay with me beloved!” Kulai quickly dropped her knife and moved towards me. She held my hands and pressed her nose to mine, rubbing softly. “I will do such lovely things to you with my hands under the furs.”

 

“Perhaps we might do rather more intimate things together now that we are not camping with warriors close by, listening out for any sound we might make in the darkness?”

 

“Surely not? Not while we camp under the night sky!” Kulai seemed shocked. “I must sleep fully clothed! When we are together in a secure home in Corcyrus, yes, but not out here!”

 

“Perhaps I will master Kelsee tonight, after all. Men have needs.”

 

Kulai pouted. “You tease me. You would not do such a thing when your Free Companion begs you to keep her warm. Your Free Companion is helplessly vulnerable out here and she needs her man to be close, to protect her.”

 

“I see. Perhaps you could remove your thick, woollen leggings, then, before we snuggle together in the furs?”

 

“Certainly not.” Kulai sniffed. “The leggings will remain on me at all times. Shame on you for suggesting otherwise.” She wagged an admonitory finger at me. 

 

We had marched into the perimeter of some woods, out of sight of the road. We found a small clearing and Kulai declared it as safe a place as any we might find. Darian Athuk’s camp of blue and yellow striped tents was over an ahn away. I had thought it best not to try and walk past it as the sun set. I would prefer broad daylight if I was going to escort two women in full sight of armed slavers.

 

“They will not be kidnapping women from the road,” said Kulai. “Not during daylight hours, anyway. They will have a licence to deal in Corcyrian captives, and we are still behind Argentum front lines.”

 

“In the dark an Argentum woman looks much like a Corcyrian woman, I suppose.”

 

“I suppose. But women will not be traveling after dark.” Kulai had gone on to explain that Gorean main roads typically had walled inns situated at intervals roughly equivalent to the distance a man or woman might travel at a reasonable walking pace. This was so that no traveller had to sleep out in the countryside as night fell, and be vulnerable to outlaws.

 

Or passing slavers.

 

“It’s a myth that slavers prowl the countryside, jumping out from behind bushes to ravish and enslave women,” said Kulai. She was chopping some foraged vegetables now, along with some delicious smelling herbs. The cooking pot was already bubbling over the camp fire. A neat stack of dry wood lay close by to feed the fire.  

 

“Oh?” I said.

 

“Obviously it would be stupid for a woman to walk into a slaver camp, but if this Darian Athuk routinely plucked travellers off an Argentum highway, he would soon be hunted down by mounted patrols. The roads must be kept reasonably safe otherwise no one would dare to use them, and then how would anyone trade?”

 

“A reasonable point. And these mounted patrols are in evidence?”

 

“Well…” Kulai conceded we hadn’t seen any lately. 

 

“I suppose a hysterical, captive, Free Woman, abducted by Darian Athuk’s men, could complain to a magistrate after she has been stripped, collared, branded, whipped, raped, and sold to a distant city like Torcadino?”

 

“Now you’re just being silly,” said Kulai. “I’m not saying we should go anywhere near the slavers. I’m just saying they will not be prowling this wood looking for Free Women. They are busy men. They have slaves to process. There’s a lot of paperwork.”

 

I sat back and watched Kelsee move in her sleep. She looked peaceful, yet… I could tell she was dreaming, and whatever she was dreaming about was obviously an interesting dream from the way she fidgeted and sighed in her sleep.

 

“We should wake your slut,” said Kulai as she brushed her hands together. “Oh, and whip her!”

 

“We’re not whipping Kelsee.”

 

“She needs to be whipped from time to time. It will remind her she is a slave.”

 

“The collar reminds her of that.”

 

“Collar this, collar that. You’re always making excuses for the tight little slut. Why can’t you just brand her?!”

 

“We are not going to talk about this,” I said.

 

“Are you being Gorean, now, with your woman?”

 

“I think I am, yes,” I said as I stroked her hair. Kulai had lowered the hood of her garment now that we were away from the road. She moved close and snuggled into my arms.

 

“Good.” She still wore her veils, of course. Those she must not remove unless I gave her permission to do so. “I want you to learn to be Gorean. I want a Gorean companion, not an Earth man.”

 

“I will be both, I suppose.”

 

“You can never be both, beloved. That is like saying you are both earth and water, fire and air. To be Gorean is to no longer be a man of Earth. The two are simply incompatible.”

 

“What do I need to do to become Gorean?”

 

“You will have to learn how to handle women,” she said. “We can be haughty she-sleens if you do not impress your will upon us.”

“Sinuous she-sleens,” I said, smiling. 

 

“You must come to understand that there are two kinds of female,” said Kulai.

 

“Oh?” She felt good in my arms. I teased away the first of her veils so I could better see the outline of her lower face. She didn’t seem to object. She could not object. I was entitled to face strip my Free Woman. 

 

“The first is the noble Free Woman. She must be respected, cherished, valued, listened to, but she must also be kept chaste and dignified in her behaviour. Her innate modesty reflects on a man’s honour. My behaviour is a reflection of your own good standing. A Free Woman submits to the will of her man, and she obeys him, of course, but she also offers advice that he would do well to consider. A man is stronger when he has a Free Woman at his side, and when he listens to what she has to say. We can be resourceful, supportive, comforting. And we can gift you with children, should you want them.”

 

“I have been thinking about that,” I said as I removed the pins from her second veil. Now the outline of her features was clearer still. 

 

“Oh?” her eyes sparkled with excitement.

 

“My feelings are developing for you, Kulai. As you said they would.”

 

She seemed very pleased. She touched me softly. “I love you,” she said. 

 

“I think in time I will be able to say those words back to you. Even now I feel a great longing for you.”

 

“I love you so much.” She snuggled close to me. 

 

“Rolfe was right. I asked a terrible thing of you when I made you barren on our bedding night.”

 

“Oh, beloved.” She could sense where this was going. 

 

“It is bad enough that I haven’t branded Kelsee, but to deprive you of your rights as a woman in Free Companionship. I did you a great injustice.”

 

“Oh beloved…” she looked so happy now.

 

I slipped aside the third veil. Now I could clearly see her features beneath the last veil she wore which was silken, diaphanous, and fluttering in time to her breath. 

 

“I think, in Corcyrus, I will give you the wine of release to drink. You will be a fertile woman once more.” I slipped away the last veil, so soft and so ineffective at masking her lovely lips. And then we kissed passionately, while my slave, Kelsee, tossed and turned in her sleep.

 

We lay together for a while, on the soft grass, kissing, while our rabbit stew supper bubbled and cooked in the iron pot. Kulai remained fully clothed, but I ran my hands over and around her body, feeling the soft curves beneath her fabrics. 

 

“Are you sure you cannot be persuaded to remove your boots and leggings?” I asked as I stroked her thighs. 

 

“We are not in our home, beloved,” said Kulai. “You cannot expect your companion to undress for you in the wilderness! She is a not a slave!”

 

“I want you so much,” I said, reaching my hand under her long tunic. I felt the thick fabric of the leggings that frustrated me from touching her more intimately. Even so, she seemed excited by what I was doing with my hands.

 

“Stop that,” she whispered, in mounting excitement. “I must resist you, and you are making it difficult.”

 

“Am I?”

 

“Of course you are. I am a healthy woman. It is natural that I find men attractive and want to be with them; you, specifically, beloved. When we have a home in Corcyrus I shall open myself to you.”

 

“That’s a lovely turn of phrase.”

 

“It is,” she said, smiling. “It is what Free Women do. We open ourselves to our man.”

 

“Were you a slave, I would have you now.”

 

“Oh?” she seemed excited by the thought.

 

“Yes, you would have been put to use a good ten ehn ago.”

“You want me so much?”

 

“Very much. My desire for women is so much stronger on this planet.”

 

“See, you are becoming Gorean. Soon you will forget your foolish barbarian sensibilities. You will be strong, masterful, dominant. Women will naturally sense that in you.”

 

“You mentioned two kinds of women,” I said. “What of the second?”

 

“The second kind of female is the common slave. I do not just mean collared sluts, but rather the natural slaves who perhaps have never been recognised for what they are. They may live their lives appearing to be free, wearing gowns, robes and veils, living in cities with the respect and protection of their menfolk. Such females belong in collars, of course.’

“Of course,” I said, stroking her clothed flanks, once more.

 

“They are an insult to genuine Free Women. They must be collared! They must be branded! They must be put in chains. They must kneel at the feet of a man.”

 

“Interesting,” I said. “You have strong views on such women?”

 

“Of course, beloved. As do all Free Women of modest ways. The slave shares our sex, but portrays our shared sex in a manner we find offensive. They crawl, they beg, they whimper softly for a man’s touch. It is pathetic. Oh!” she suddenly gasped and squirmed. Despite her thick woollen leggings, my touch was stimulating her, it seems.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“I think I need thicker leggings,” she said softly. I could see her lips moisten as she squirmed a little in my arms. It had been many days since we had coupled together on our bedding night. 

 

“You were telling me about slaves – natural slaves – and their difference to the noble Free Woman?”

 

“Of course. Well, they are sluts. Wanton sluts!”

 

“Sensuous, silken, she-sleens,” I suggested. “Delicious little baggages, crying out to be put to use by a man?”

 

“Yes, they are such sluts. The way they respond to… OH!” she seemed startled again. I was moving my fingers against the fabric of her leggings that were snug and tight against her sex. The fabric now seemed slightly damp to my touch. I kissed my woman and felt her respond in an excited fashion.

 

“I suppose one must always be on one’s guard in order to detect such a natural slave in her cunning disguise of veils, robes, gowns, slippers, or even other such garments as tunics, leggings, boots, and so forth?”

 

“Perhaps you should stop touching me for a moment,” said Kulai, obviously excited now.

 

“Oh? Is there a problem?”

 

“No! Of course not! No problem!” I felt her body begin to quiver as I did not relent. I continued. Drawing my fingers against the fabric between her thighs. She seemed to be oiling now.

 

“Continue to educate me about natural slaves. I am curious.”

 

“Slavers of course have a series of tests that can determine the degree and level of responses of a female. They can make a studied determination of the significant differences in the way a natural slave’s body might respond, compared with that of a… Ohhhh!”

 

Kulai writhed for a moment before she suddenly held herself as still as she could. 

 

Yes, she was definitely oiling. 

 

Her eyes were wide as she gazed at me with a trembling lip. She seemed unable to speak for a few precious moments, and so I took that opportunity to kiss her again, but this time more deeply, more sensuously, almost as if she was a natural slave.

 

She was breathing deeply as I allowed her to come up for air. I saw how she looked about our camp, as if to assure herself that Kelsee was still sleeping. She was. I felt her thighs part to my touch. Was she aware she was doing that?

 

“I find this educational, Kulai. The differences between the varieties of female.” 

 

“Perhaps we should change the subject now?” she suggested.

 

“But I am enjoying this conversation.” I was of course very hard beneath my own tunic. I hadn’t had full penetrative sex with a female since the bedding night of the Free Companionship ceremony. Customs dictated I couldn’t put Kelsee to use in front of my Free Companion. That was dishonourable. The delicate sensibilities of a Free Woman are to be respected by men. They must be at pains to ensure that they did not compel a slave to become a helpless writhing passionate slut in their arms while a Free Woman might be forced to watch. That would be unthinkable. And of course Kulai could not be expected to open herself to me in that fashion, while we were camping with our warrior friends. I had to respect her dignity. 

 

But now we were alone, and Kelsee was in a deep sleep, it seemed.

 

“I am going to remove your boots and leggings,” I said.

 

“What? No! We are not in our bed in Corcyrus!” she said. 

 

“I am a man and men have needs,” I said. “it has been too long.”

 

“No! I forbid it! Absolutely not! Ohhhh!” I began stimulating her further through the damp fabric of the crotch of her woollen leggings. I then slid one of her ankle boots from her foot, followed by the other. I discarded them with a casual toss of my arm.

 

“I don’t understand! What are you doing?! We are by a camp fire! There is a slaver camp just an ahn’s walk from here! We are not on our couch in our home!”

 

“You are my delicious Free Companion,” I said. “I am going to put you to use. I am going to be Gorean, as you want me to be.”

 

“No! I forbid it! Ohhh!” I turned her onto her belly, which would make stripping her of her leggings somewhat easier. I saw her gaze wildly in the direction of Kelsee’s prone body, wanting to reassure herself that Kelsee wasn’t awake and that she couldn’t see any of this. She wriggled, lying flat on the grass as I worked her woollen leggings down past her hips, down past her thighs, down between her knees, and finally away from her lower body. I placed my hand between her thighs and felt clearly how well she had oiled. 

 

“Let me turn around,” she cried, “You cannot have me, like this, not with me on my belly! I am a Free Woman!”

 

“Of course.” I turned her now onto her back – a more honourable position for a Free Woman. She was not some slave who might be used in an animal like fashion. It was obvious from her expression how deeply aroused she now was. I spread her thighs. 

 

“I love you,” she said.

 

I took hold of her wrists and pressed them down onto the grass, either side of her head. This seemed to excite her even more. The palms of her hands were open to me, and vulnerable.

 

“I love you! I love you!” she cried as I then positioned myself on top of her. I had already shrugged up the hem of her long tunic, giving me access to the treasure that lay between her legs. 

 

And then with a firm thrust, I entered her, and began to steadily put her to use.