Outcast of Gor Chapter Twenty

 

Kulai seemed a very different woman when she was close to orgasm. I chose to pause for a moment as she grasped my hips and squirmed as I moved inside of her. 

 

Her legs were bare, and her knee length, long sleeved tunic was rucked up around her hips. 

 

“Why have you stopped?” she gasped.

 

“I want to look at you.” It was dark now, but her face was illuminated by the flickering flames of our camp fire. There was a sheen of perspiration on her brow. Her hair was untangled from its ribbon of companionship, and arrayed about her face and shoulders. She had grass stains and earth where the heels of her bare feet and her sleeved elbows had driven themselves into the ground as she writhed under me. 

 

“You can’t leave me trembling like this!” she moaned. “Finish me! Please!”

 

“Can’t I?” I was feeling powerful as I gazed down at my Free Companion, gripping her wrists again and holding them tightly to the ground, adding to her delicious experience. If you have never mastered a woman – I mean, fully mastered a woman – and controlled carefully her right to an orgasm - then you will never have experienced the intense feelings that come with being a truly dominant male. It is an aphrodisiac, and once experienced, your approach to sex can never be the same again. 

 

Gorean society frees a man to be wholly and truly a man, as nature intended. And women, those delicious feminine beauties, are free in the full sense to be true women. 

 

I glanced briefly to the side where Kelsee lay very still, pretending to still be asleep. Kulai’s cries had woken her ten ehn ago. She had briefly met my eyes and I had nodded subtly. She had lain down and watched in the darkness as Kulai had been mastered by me. Once or twice I spied a wry smile on Kelsee’s lovely lips, as if she was incredibly pleased to view her strict mistress in such a raw, carnal state. Could it be that her proud mistress had similar responses, when taken by a man, as, say, a slave girl might? How delightful, Kelsee might think, in her own bondage; how absolutely splendid and right that would be, to her mind. My eyes warned her not to draw attention to herself. It would be best for her that Kulai thought she remained unconscious throughout this intense emotive coupling. Kelsee would suffer if Kulai had any suspicion that she had been awake to witness her climax.

 

I moved slowly within Kulai. She threw her head back once more and gasped. I still gripped her wrists tightly, rendering her helpless beneath me. 

 

“I am conquering a lovely huntress,” I said. She wriggled beneath me as I said that.

 

“You are!” she cried. “I am being conquered! I AM being conquered!”

 

I don’t think she understood how loud she was now. Surely she must realise Kelsee wouldn’t still be sleeping, now that she was crying out with such intense feelings? But perhaps she had other things on her mind right now. 

 

I moved within her again, taking my time, watching her face. I can usually tell when a woman is close to climaxing. There are visible signs throughout her body. I felt her clench at me with her vaginal muscles, trying to urge me on, but I continued to take my time.

 

“Don’t,” I warned her.

 

“What?” she gasped. She didn’t realise what she was doing. 

 

“Just relax. I will not let you climax for a while.”

 

“Ohhh!” she moaned, struggling futilely in my grip. “You must! You must! The way I feel now! Ohhhh!”

 

I glanced briefly at Kelsee. I could see her eyes were open just a little. She continued to watch with great interest. What did she make of Kulai’s responses, I wondered? Was she perhaps comparing them to her own? The sly little she-sleen moved her own body softly in the grass, possibly aroused by what she witnessed. 

 

I wished Kulai wasn’t wearing her long sleeved, knee length tunic. I wanted to play with her breasts, but that wasn’t possible. 

 

“Please, beloved, please!” cried Kulai. “Finish me! Finish me!”

 

I held myself still inside her again because I could sense she was close. Again she tried clenching me, to urge me on.

 

“No!” I said sharply. “Don’t.”

 

She whimpered. She shook her head. She gazed at with wild eyes. “Please! You don’t understand! These feelings! These intense feelings!”

 

I moved once. Gently. She groaned and writhed again, but instantly I stopped. She lay there gasping. 

 

I detected another smile on Kelsee’s face. She knew I could see her, and the fact I hadn’t said anything meant she felt confident enough to keep watching from her sly position on the other side of our camp. I hope she was enjoying the spectacle. I wanted her to understand that Kulai was simply a woman, despite her fierce huntress persona. I wanted her to understand that Kulai was, perhaps, not so different to her after all, save for her lack of collar, and her lack of abject bondage, and the fact that she was free. I wanted to reassure Kelsee in some way that Kulai was simply a girl, like her. And I was curious as to the possible similarities in responses between a natural slave, like Kelsee, and a noble Free Woman, like Kulai. I was very familiar with Kelsee’s own responses, and had long ago concluded they derived from fierce slave fires burning in her belly, but I was curious as to how comparable Kulai might be, if she were to experience a controlled and disciplined mastery of her body. 

 

The stillness of the night was broken by Kulai’s deep breathing. I leaned forward and kissed her deeply, while still gripping her wrists tightly. I moved inside her again as I kissed her. She gasped within the kiss. 

 

“I am learning much about being Gorean,” I said. “Your lessons proceed very well.”

 

“Ohhh!” she writhed some more. “I am helpless! You have made me completely helpless!”

 

“Yes, you are, and, yes I have. How does it feel?”

 

She sobbed. She couldn’t speak. 

 

I was discovering the invigorating pleasure that comes from mastering a female of the species. Women are delightful creatures, whether their necks bear flat, steel collars, so inflexibly locked upon them, or whether they are free. I had been told by both men and women that a vast gulf existed between the noble Free Woman and the salacious slut of a slave in her steel collar, and yet, my experiences tonight with Kulai, writhing helplessly in my arms, suggested the gulf might not be so wide after all.

 

Was her salacious wriggling – so sensuous, so feminine - her gasps of unbridled pleasure, her heated responses to my thrusts, really any different from the equivalent responses of an acknowledged slave such as Kelsee? I was beginning to think not. Kulai’s responses were sexual, heated, needy, much like Kelsee’s. It was an unexpected development. 

 

I was using my woman, deeply and intimately, to satisfy both our needs and desires. The raw sensual biology that lies behind the act of copulation is a thing of beauty and no man can truly feel alive unless he has a mastered woman begging to receive his touch. I suspected Kulai, for all her experience in other fields of skills and abilities, had a poor understanding of sexual congress, and until now she would have enjoyed little variety in sexual positions and responses. I moved slightly forward to her body, so I was now pointing down, rather than up, inside of her, and I then lifted her legs to wrap around my body. Instantly her face changed and a look of shock crossed her features. She gasped in amazement as the angle of my penetration changed inside of her.

 

“Ohhhh!” She was enjoying this. I felt her grip me tightly with her raised knees and ankles. “Ohhh, beloved!”

 

I started moving inside her again, but sensually and slow. There was a new series of powerful tremors racing through her body as I took her in this adjusted position. 

 

Again, I glanced briefly at Kelsee. The hot little slut had her hand now between her own legs and was rubbing herself greedily while she watched. Let her have her fun. These past days and nights had been extremely frustrating for her. 

 

“Tell me more,” I said to Kulai as she gasped and writhed, and cried out from waves of pleasure. “Tell me more of the nature of the Gorean slave girl.”

 

“What?” She tore handfuls of grass from the ground as I continued to thrust at a steady pace. “What?”

“The Gorean slave girl. Continue my education of the salacious little sluts.”

 

“They… ohhhh…. They are…” she was hardly able to speak, “wanton sluts, slaves to their own… ohhhhhhh…. Slaves to their own bodies, their filthy needs, so quick to oil to a master’s touch and… ohhhh! Oh blessed Priest Kings! What you are doing to me!” she writhed even hotter than before.

 

“This would be any girl placed in a collar?”

“No, I speak of the natural slave…” she gasped, hotly. “The woman who is a secret slave girl.”

 

“The natural slave,” I said, recalling her previous words. “The women who have the hot responses in the furs, the women who act like sluts when taken by a man?”

 

“Yes!” she cried. She writhed again. She was helpless beneath me. I was taking her; I was putting her fully to use. “Them! The little she-sleens! Ohhhh! This is too much! I can’t control myself! The things I am feeling now!” She was getting very close now. Her orgasm would be extremely powerful.  

 

“What should men do with them?” I asked.

 

“Collar them!” she cried. “They must be collared! And branded and taught their… ohhhhh!”

 

“Taught what?”

 

“Their slavery! Teach them to kiss the whip and submit to men!”

“Interesting,” I said. “I am going to make you climax now, Kulai. This may be a new sensation for you.”

 

Her eyes looked wide, startled.

 

And then I made her climax.

 

She was incredibly loud. I do not truly think what she experienced could be classed as the respectable, soft, modest, pleasant, charming, well controlled climax of the noble Free Woman. Rather her responses to her climax were hot, powerful, raw, sensual, heated, animal-like, and all encompassing. She shook on the grass, feeling the climax spread through her entire body. 

 

She had been taken, fully, completely, and in accordance with the animal needs of her sweetly hipped, lusciously curved body. 

 

She was of course a Free Woman, and so as she lay there on the grass, on her right side, with her hand reaching softly between her thighs, her body still shivering with post coital ecstasy, I assisted her by moving her hand away, so that she might not embarrass herself, and, working the hem of her tunic back down about her thighs, returned it to its original knee length position. I stroked her well positioned bottom, wrapped closely by the thick fabric of the tunic.

 

“Excellent,” I said. “Truly excellent.”

 

She quivered and mewled softly. 

 

Later, we ate the rabbit stew. It was delicious. Kelsee was now evidently awake and I fed her myself. I had her kneel before me and I would spoon stew into her mouth from time to time. I had her kneel with her knees together as she was in the presence of a Free Woman. Kulai had found her thick woollen leggings and had swiftly pulled them back on her body, and had then slipped her feet back into her discarded ankle boots. I found it interesting that Kulai could not, or did not, wish to meet Kelsee’s soft gaze. Kulai had no idea that Kelsee had seen or heard anything and yet after being taken by me so fiercely, she found it difficult to meet the gaze of a collared slave girl. Was she concerned that she might see something of herself now in Kelsee? Would the lovely collared girl be like a mirror held up to Kulai’s own soul? Was Kulai concerned about the nature and intensity of her responses, perhaps? Was there a sense of powerful guilt, which made it difficult for her to acknowledge an embonded girl who wore a steel collar; a girl whose own responses might in some way be loosely comparable to those of Kulai, the noble Free Woman of Turia?

 

Kelsee sensed this change in Kulai, and seemed pleased with it. She was quite happy that Kulai might feel subdued, unwilling to look upon her. Kelsee smiled secretly at me and I smiled back.

 

“Sinuous she-sleen,” I said to Kelsee as I gave her some stew from my spoon. I recalled how she had stimulated herself with her own hand in the darkness as Kulai had graduated closer to her fierce orgasm. 

 

“Yes, Master,” she said, brightly.

 

“Did you rest well, slave girl?” 

 

“I did, Master, yes.” Again she smiled. She was enjoying this. And she was enjoying being fed by my hand.

 

“We will be in Corcyrus in a matter of days,” I remarked. “But first, tomorrow, we will pass the slaver camp of Darian Athuk of Talmont.”

 

“Master?” She looked uneasy now. She knew that this was a camp that branded women. This was a place that permanently kept the tips of heated irons glowing red hot in coal braziers. 

 

“We will not enter the camp. Do you understand me?”

 

She wanted to believe that, but I could see she was afraid. I had not been completely honest with her on other matters, such as the courtship and companionship of Kulai of Turia. And yet, she simply had to trust me. 

 

“In the camp you will be branded, like the slave you are,” Kulai suddenly said, sharply. 

 

“Kulai, do not say things like that.”

 

Kulai now regarded Kelsee with burning hatred. “Your thigh will know the hot kiss of the kef brand, slut! It will be done to you!”

 

Kelsee sobbed, and stared back at me as if I had just betrayed her trust.

 

“Kulai, enough. We will speak of this later.”

 

Kulai looked away again. Her cheeks were burning a flushed red. She knelt in tower but clenched and unclenched her small fists, still feeling the after effects of her powerful female orgasm. I saw the rise and fall of her breasts under the tunic. She seemed to feel different now, and it made her agitated. She didn’t want to look at Kelsee. She didn’t want to compare herself on some superficial level with a girl who wore a collar. 

 

“I hate that little slut,” she said, sharply, looking away from us both. She seemed embarrassed about something. “I hate her needs, her responses, her slave heat.”

 

“Enough,” I said. 

 

“You’re going to brand me, aren’t you!” cried Kelsee to me.

 

“Yes!” said Kulai, sharply. “Your thigh will be marked with the kef! There will then be no hiding what you naturally are!”

 

“Kulai! I said ENOUGH.”

 

I finished the stew and sat back, gazing into the crackling fire. Kulai had crawled close to me and knelt now, possessively, as a sign to Kelsee that she should now withdraw.

 

“You will know if we need you, slave,” said Kulai. “Get out of my sight.”

 

“Mistress,” said Kelsee, softly, deferentially, as she bowed her head and withdrew. 

 

“There is no need to be cruel to her,” I said as Kulai placed her open hand on my thigh.

 

“I am not cruel. This is how slaves are treated. They must be reminded of their bondage at all times. They are not, and can never be, Free Women.”

 

“She tries to please you, you know. It can’t be easy for her.”

 

“Well, she fails, miserably. She has a lot to learn about pleasing a Free Woman. She has a lot to learn about her own collar.”

 

“We will set out early tomorrow,” I said. “It will be better to pass the slaver camp while they are still rising from the previous night.”

 

“Yes,” said Kulai. “I agree. I think we shall be safe.”

 

In hindsight I had been careless with Kelsee. I should have taken the time to reassure her after Kulai’s words. I had failed to recognise how alarmed she might be when Kulai had told her she would be branded tomorrow. I had assumed Kelsee would simply believe me, and not harbour any significant doubts.

 

It’s easy to look back and realise that my security with Kelsee had also been lax. I didn’t for example, routinely chain her at night, like the valuable property she was. I didn’t think there was any need. I thought she wanted to be in my collar. I thought she wanted me as her master. I didn’t account for the conflicting thoughts and emotions that a girl new to the collar might feel. They are at war with themselves in the early days, believing they want one thing, but actually desiring something deeper and more fulfilling, as biological nature intended for them. Their own desires and needs scare them to their very core. They fear what their bodies begin to instruct them in. They need close supervision and the security of steel chains. Much of this I had overlooked through my own ignorance and naivety.  

 

I was also distracted by lovely thoughts as I lay in the darkness with Kulai at my side. I considered how good my life might be with two women serving me in Corcyrus: Kulai as the dutiful companion, dignified and chaste, at least until our erotic nights spent together on our couch; and Kelsee, a hot piece of collared slave flesh, quick to oil and always available to me for use. Gor offers men the perfect arrangement of both noble Free Companionship and the ownership and mastery of slaves. Was I really prepared to accept the vague possibility that Kelsee might call on me to free her in Corcyrus? Was I actually prepared to lose her if she decided that? How foolish I would be to unlock her collar and actually free her, if that is what, in a rash, impulsive moment – a moment she might later regret – she actually decided. 

 

I began to understand that I didn’t want to free her. I began to understand that, perhaps, I wouldn’t free her. That was no easy thing to consider, for it would be breaking my word, but Rolfe would be quick to point out that there is nothing dishonourable in keeping a hot slave in her collar. Rolfe would point out that matters of honour relate to free persons, and that a free person has no duty to honour a promise made to a slave, any more than he would honour a promise made to a sleen. 

 

I could keep Kelsee if I wanted to, and I did want to. And I could brand her if I wanted to. It certainly would please my Free Companion. It would make my life easier if Kelsee was branded. Many of my past troubles had derived specifically from the lack of a kef on her lovely thigh. Everyone told me that slaves must be branded. Perhaps I was beginning to succumb to that peer pressure. 

 

Yes, I knew I wanted Kelsee branded. But what I wanted and what I would do were still two different matters entirely. 

 

I am a light sleeper, and I have the ability to wake quickly if I sense movement.

 

My eyes opened. It was still dark. The fire was glowing, not quite out. I had no idea what the time was. But I had instinctively sensed something.

 

I sat up, just in time to see Kelsee, collared, barefoot, clad in just her slave tunic, fleeing quickly into the deep woods.