Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Two

In hindsight, I should perhaps have forewarned Felix and Adam that I was going to put Misa to use last night, but in my defence it had been a spur of the moment decision when I had left the campfire to find my bed.

 

Misa served us breakfast in the morning, on her knees, in nadu. Nearby her so-called sisters knelt in the grass, still chained between their Harl rings, glaring at the slave as she made no attempt to resist my commands.

 

“You had a good night, then,” remarked Adam, drily.

 

“I of course offer you the use of my slave, Misa, from here on in,” I said. Unlike me, Adam and Felix still had not enjoyed a woman in over a week. Misa looked up, startled by my offer. I had not consulted with her before offering her use to the men.

 

“That is kind of you, sword brother,” said Felix, before Adam might object. “Perhaps tonight?”

 

“She is yours tonight, Felix,” I said, slapping his shoulder. “Misa,” I turned to regard the softly curved slave, “serve my brother well tonight, or you will feel the  whip.”

 

“Yes, Master,” said the former huntress as she lowered her gaze. She would know a second man tonight, and perhaps once again experience a slave orgasm. 

 

“And what brought about this remarkable and sudden change of heart?” enquired Adam as he sipped some Black Wine.

The Paga Diaries (17) by Arizona Wanderer: ‘The Offer’

 

I was happy to see Penny standing at our meeting spot at the sixth ahn.  She dropped to her knees and knelt in nadu as I got close to her.  The bell on her neck rang as she knelt.  “Tal, Master,” she said with happy blue eyes and a smile on her face.  She was clean today, as was her shabby camisk.  I was happy to see that. 

 

“Tal, Penny,” I said. “We do something different today.”

 

“Yes Master, what are we doing?”

 

“I take you to apartment. Want you to know where I live. Make new meet place. So, when you can’t meet, you come next day,” I said.

 

“I don’t understand, Master.”

 

“On day when you can’t meet, you come morning that you can. You come to me, where I live,” I tried to explain. 

 

“Yes, Master.  There are days when I can’t meet you.  On days that I can meet you, I will come to where you live, and this will become our new meeting place.” 

 

“Yes, morning at the sixth ahn.  Now we get breakfast and go to apartment,” I said.

 

We ate our pastries on the way to my apartment or insula, which wasn’t very far from our meeting place.  The building was two stories of stone masonry that was built in a “U” shape, with a small courtyard in the centre. The building was two stories with twelve apartments on each floor, each apartment having its own exterior entrance door.  I unlocked the door and we entered my small single room apartment.

 

“Strip Penny,” I said.  She gracefully removed her camisk, revealing her thin tan figure, perky breasts, and long slender legs.  I enjoyed looking at her and wanted her to remain naked while she was in my apartment.  I had Penny kneel and I took a towel and used it to wrap and muffle the triangular bell that was chained around her neck along with the metal coin box.  The bell was very distracting and irritating.  I started to point at things in the room so that she could teach me the Gorean words for them.  I learned the words for simple household things like the cabinet, countertop, fireplace with hanging pot, the chamber pot and everything else that was in the room. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty One

 

I felt very content as I lay on my back, in some furs, gazing up at the star constellations in the night sky.

 

I had eaten well, I had drunk well, and I had enjoyed the company of my caste around a communal camp fire. We had been served throughout the evening by some beautiful kajirae – some trained, and some raw, new, and anxious in their fresh collars and brands. All had served to the best of their abilities, knowing they would feel the whip if they slacked in any way.

 

We were now in the territory of Torcadino, with no sign of Stannis Assante’s cavalry, and despite not wishing to tempt fate I began to feel a sense of hope that we would reach the great gates of Torcadino with no further incidents. While Stannis might risk taking action in the border region, he would not dare to send his men deep into Torcadino’s territory. That would be an act of war and he would met by Torcadino’s own warriors. 

 

A slave girl lay beside me in the furs, her head resting close to my chest, her breathing shallow and dreamlike. I had put her to use three times tonight, and now I was content and thinking clearly, my mind no longer distracted by thoughts of sex. Women are beautiful, but even more beautiful in that sense of post-coital bliss they enjoy after they have orgasmed. I mean of course a true orgasm of the kind that slaves routinely relish, and not whatever it is that free women feel when they lie down on their backs and spread their legs for their free companion. It is probably for the best that free women have no intrinsic understanding of what it is they are missing. Think how miserable their lives would be if they actually understood the difference, the vast gulf, between what a slave feels and what they feel.  

 

I stroked the girl’s soft, long hair and kissed her sleepy forehead. Her eyelids fluttered a little as she hovered in that warm cosy space between dreaming and waking.

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty

 

Blue and yellow, the colours of my adopted caste, were flying from a pole at the summit of Slaver’s Point, denoting that at least one Slaver House was in residence tonight and open for business within the confines of the ancient, monolithic stone circle.

 

Being a Brit with Welsh ancestry, I was no stranger to a land riddled with cairns, barrow mounds, and mysterious stone circles; all part of our wider, ancient pagan history that the Romans did their very best to stamp out. But unlike the megalithic structures of Earth, these stones were well maintained. None were missing, and none had fallen over, or, if they had, they had been righted. The summit of the low hill was surrounded by an outer ring of vertical sandstone blocks, each one over twenty feet high, maybe ten or so feet wide, and, like similar circles in England, topped by connecting horizontal lintel stones. 

 

A second, smaller circle of trilithon stones stood within the interior of the outer circle, and within this second hollow was an open space of grass land in which slavers might camp on their way, to and from Torcadino.   

 

“Can I assume this is considered peaceful territory?” I asked Adam. 

 

“Pretty much, yes. Aside from the obvious point of Torcadino sovereignty, the slavers who pitch camp at Slaver’s Point observe caste discipline, regardless of which Home Stones they belong to. No one will try and steal our slaves, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“Captives,” I said, correcting him.

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Nineteen

 

“The landing zone erupted into an intense fire fight as soon as the women were being loaded as livestock onboard the slave ship. The very last words I spoke to Caitlin are forever imprinted in my head,” said Adam. “She had a favourite film, you see: the Last of the Mohicans. And there’s this scene when everything seems doomed, and Daniel Day Lewis says something like, ‘No! You stay alive! If they don't kill you, they'll take you north up to the Huron lands. Submit, do you hear? You're strong! You survive! You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you! No matter how long it takes, no matter how far. I will find you!’ It was the last time I ever saw her face. I promised her I would move heaven and earth to bring her back, and believe me, I will. Everything I have done since then has been with that goal in mind.”

 

He was telling the truth. There was no mistaking the pained look in his eyes now.

 

“You know where she is?”

 

“No. I would have found her by now if I did.”

 

“Hope is a great thing, but realistically, Adam, what chance do you have? She’ll have been unloaded in a slave market in any one of the many Gorean cities. She will have been sold, possibly several times, and she won’t have the same name any more. How are you going to find her?”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Eighteen

 

I’ll say one thing for the lovely huntresses – their saddle bags contained an abundance of treasures.

 

“That’s the best smoked bacon I’ve eaten in a while,” said Felix as he devoured his breakfast. Being staked out for the sexual pleasure of women seems to give a man a hearty appetite. There were also cheeses and olives and sa-tarna bread and some liver Pâté and a few bottles of red ka-la-na, though we agreed it was a bit early in the day to open those.   

 

Livinnia, Mishka and Svetlana sat on the grass in a Harl ring chain arrangement, watching us eat, with sullen expressions on their faces. The Harl ring is named after the famous slaver, Harl of Turia, who first used it with his own coffles of girls. The Harl ring consists of four pieces. First, there is a metal ankle ring that locks onto a slave's ankle. It is secure and cannot be slipped. Second, on the back of the ankle ring is welded a closed metal loop. Third, on the front of the ankle ring, is another closed metal loop. The fourth and final part of the Harl ring arrangement is the addition of a chain that can be threaded through either of the two ankle rings. The chain typically ends in a locking device that can be secured to or through the back of a second ankle ring. It is a very versatile item and can be used to chain a girl to nearly anything. A closed Harl ring arrangement is where you lock the chain on its own ankle ring around a tree, pole or similar item. Harl rings are frequently used to form slave coffles and typically a single key will lock and unlock all of the rings on such a slave coffle. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Seventeen

 

“Where is Laetitia?” Livinnia stood before the prone figures of Felix and Adamus. She wore a brief, long sleeved riding tunic of coarse wool, long brown hose on her legs, a scarlet cape and cap, and black boots with spurs. Her hair was tied back into a pony tail, and she was armed with weapons more suitable for a Gorean man – a short sword and long knife. Lying to one side, where she might quickly reach for it, was her short bow of ka-la-na wood and a quiver of goose fletched arrows. Both Felix and Adamus were naked, and both men now lay on their backs in the mossy grass with their wrists and ankles widely stretched out to wooden stakes. They were secured there with binding fibre and helpless.

 

Four riding tharlarion were tethered to nearby trees. On the backs of the beasts were long, light lances and a number of throwing javelins. 

 

Livinnia wasn’t alone in the clearing. The lovely huntresses, Svetlana and Danata were with her. Svetlana seemed alert, keeping watch as Danata knelt beside the bound figure of Adamus. 

 

“We are refugees from the small town of Tynen, kind Lady. I do not know who this woman you ask of is,” said Felix. “We are just fleeing the soldiers, my brother and I. Please have mercy on us. We have suffered so much already. I lost my free companion to raiders, and then my daughter. She was only five.”

 

His voice sound tearful, pleading, and scared. I suspected it was an act.

After the Bighorn - Loose Ends and New Beginnings, by Tracker

 

June 2016

 

Smith’s Narrative

 

It was June 8th and Smith was content. He was sitting in wooden chair on the veranda of his new cabin on the Lazy F.  He had an explainable amount of ‘bug out money’ in his mattress, and even more under one of his aliases in an offshore bank. Nature was burgeoning and later he would go and withdraw a ‘sleeping library’ from some of the intelligent livestock down in the new processing centre that Hawkins was constructing.

 

From Smith’s Narrative.

 

I’ve always wanted to know more about Italian literature.  Fortunately a graduate student from Italy was careless in where she wandered down by one of the rivers of Pittsburgh. Just wandered right into one of the agents of Mr Willard Frick himself.  A full belly, a little learning, and a fine morsel to enjoy.  I landed in heaven here.  The last of what turned out to be Navy money was paid into my offshore account last night.  Why they let this investigation blow up into such a big deal I don’t know, but it played out to my advantage. If only the Fricks would give me Fliss, formerly Miss Florence Fabricant, my life would be complete.  Not much chance of that happening though, with her owned by Big Mr Frick himself, and his daughter Chelsea using her as a private maid.  I hear that girl is a terror when she visits the ranch.

 

Maybe after a few years, the Fricks will offer her to me as a bonus.  As an assistant foreman now, in charge of armoury and supplies, I might rate a bonus.

 

Ah, well, it is good for a man to have a few dreams, no matter how content he is.  I’m forty-five and expect to age and die on the Lazy F.

The Paga Diaries (16) by Arizona Wanderer: ‘Dautium Market Square’

 

Tereus was a large muscular man, over six foot tall and always serious.  He proceeded Mirus and I as we followed him through the busy streets on our way to the Dautium market square.  Before we left Mirus’s mansion, he saw me inside the home wearing my sword.  When he had entered the office, leading the leashed Lina, I noticed him look at my sword when he first saw me, sitting on a floor cushion at the low table. It was at an awkward angle, for it can be uncomfortable wearing a sword on your belt when sitting on a floor cushion.  It has to be positioned just right to lie without pulling on the belt when sitting. If being armed with a sword in Mirus’s house bothered him, he didn’t say anything to me.

 

When we left the area where Mirus lived, the homes in the neighbourhoods that we passed through became smaller, but were still very nice and well kept.  I would be really comfortable living in a neighbourhood like these.  I really needed to move out of the slums and I wondered if I could afford anything in this area.

 

As we walked towards Dautium, we passed two massive cylindrical towers built very close together.  They were amazing.  A suspended walkway connected the two towers very high up, at least two-thirds up the height of the building.  I could see many other towers not far away and a concentration of them in what was the city centre.  There easily over a hundred of these massive towers in this city. 

Emma dances for you all in the foothills of the Sardar mountains

 

(The following occurs after the events soon to be recounted in Gods of Gor)

 

“Hold still, Emma!” she was fidgeting like a wild thing as I draped, arranged, and secured the silks and gauze decoratively about her body. She would be dancing soon for the pleasure of my Master and his guests and I feared she was going to be distracted.

 

“Who is she?” Emma kept trying to get a glimpse of the blonde barbarian who lay beside our Master’s feet as he discussed politics with the other men. The girl was semi-nude, except for decorative bangles and a long piece of silk that fell between her thighs, as she licked and kissed his ankles and from time to time was fed a grape or two by hand.

 

“She’s just a new slave. Her name is Anthea.”

 

“Why is she with Brinn? I should be with Brinn?”

 

Other slaves regarded us with disapproval. Emma has a tendency to speak our master’s name, something no other girl would dare do, including myself, and they didn’t like it. Somehow Emma seemed to get away with it. My Master didn’t seem to notice or care.

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Sixteen

 

I held Laetitia to me, feeling how soft and lovely her warm body was after so many days of sexual abstinence. She clung to me for comfort and reassurance, pressing her face to my chest, and snaking her arms about my waist. I placed my arms about her shoulder blades, rocking her a little in the way a mother might comfort a child who had endured some terrible nightmare.

 

“I thought I would never see you again,” she sobbed. “I thought I was alone.”

 

“Our assailant was a woman,” I said.

 

“I know.” Laetitia pressed herself close to me. Perhaps a little too close. I was a man, after all. “I was shouting that to you.”

 

“I didn’t hear you. I was focussed on the fight.”

 

“Is she dead?”

 

“No.” I smiled, thinking of her tethered in a slave bow, her wrists and ankles crossed and tied together, perhaps praying for my return. “She lives. She is my captive.”

 

I became aware that I now had an erection. Laetitia was dressed in a  brief, artfully torn slave tunic, and she wore a collar. Her body seemed to fit into my embrace exquisitely. And then she sensed the stirring in my loins, too.

 

“Roland…” she raised her head, perplexed. “Is that…”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Fifteen

 

“You’re not a man.” I gazed down at the lovely Mishka as I gripped both her wrists and easily spread them widely apart, resting the weight of my body on her own to press her down into the grassy moss of the river bank. We were both wet, cold and exhausted, but crucially she was more exhausted than I.

 

“No,” she hissed, “I am not a man. I am far superior to men!” She writhed against my grip which proved futile.

 

“Apparently not when it comes to physical strength,” I said.

 

“I will kill you!” she snarled.

 

“Thank you for the warning.” I flipped her over onto her stomach with considerable ease and rested my weight against her lower back. 

 

“Let go of me, male!” she cried.

 

“Be quiet. We were washed a long way down stream. We are on a river bank and there may be outlaws close by. I’m in no mood to take part in yet another fight tonight.” I took her right wrist and pulled it to the small of her back. Again, this was so easy.

 

She was breathing heavily from the exertion of our fight and the battle against the river current. Also, she had struck the rocks at some point and would probably be heavily bruised at the very least. 

 

“Gahh!” she strained against me, continuing to ignore the evidence that I was far stronger than her. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Fourteen

 

The night was silent, save for the occasional rustling sound in the trees and bushes as nocturnal animals prowled and searched for food. Up in the sky, the three bright moons of Gor shone down on the land offering a little illumination to my night vision. The stars were distinct tonight, unaffected by the pollution of city street lighting. The steady hum of crickets and other insects added a certain ambience as I sat with my back to a tree and simply stared out into the vast distance surrounding our small encampment.

 

It was our third night away from the Inn, and without wishing to tempt fate we were beginning to feel very optimistic about our chances now. In just one more day we would be inside the sphere of influence of Torcadino. Stannis’s patrols, if they were even out there looking for us, had failed to locate our trail.

 

I chewed on a piece of cured meat and considered the welcome possibility that Miss Sally Reeve had failed to locate any of Stannis’s riders. She was a lone woman on foot in outlaw country, after all. Anything might have happened to her. She had set out to locate a column of refugees, but could just as likely have run into outlaws. Even now she might be walking behind them, her wrists braceleted behind her back, the peasant garments stripped from her body, and a leash tied about her throat. By now she may even have found herself in the travelling camp of a slaver, for such men follow the paths of marching armies, ready to do business with the victorious forces. Travelling slaver camps are set up to process, enslave, and brand women in quick succession. Sally might even now have a kef branded on her left thigh. 

 

In many ways that would be a shame for I had hoped to come across her again and see to that detail myself. 

 

In the darkness I head a light jingle of chain.

Emma models new hair and new slave garments under Chloe's supervision

Greetings again, kind masters, and gentle free women. It’s Chloe again, Taharian slave girl, First Girl of Brinn of the Sardar, and Trainer in Chief of the very best slave coffles in northern Gor!

 

At the risk of getting into spoilers, I wanted to just say that the Master and I are back from our hair raising adventures in the jungles east of Schendi, along with a small coffle of slaves, and you’ll read all about them soon in the serialised book, Gods of Gor, which follows on from Ubara of Gor! Yes, I know you’ve been waiting a long time for that epic story, but a certain blonde barbarian has been taking her time getting it all down in writing. I’ll be doing the pictures, but I need to see the writing first. 

 

The biggest spoiler of course is that we didn’t die! 

 

Yes, we’re still alive at the end of it!

 

What a surprise! 😉

 

I mean, it was dangerous and all. Of course it was. We discovered a decaying, lost city in the deepest jungle with two warring Taluna tribes fighting through the ruins, and all sorts of exciting things happen, including meeting Emma’s father again, and there’s her sister kidnapped from Earth and trained as a slaver in Schendi, which is the reason we sailed down the river in the first place, because she’d gone missing, and we had to find her, but my Master has told me not to spoil the story for you, so I wont.

On the Banks of the Bighorn Chapter 32 by Tracker (Conclusion)

 

Two Nights on the Lazy F.

 

Patrick Masters’s Narrative.

 

Smith didn’t talk much as I drove the Subaru towards the Lazy F and the decision on my fate.  He seemed a man comfortable with silences. I believe interrogators use silence to encourage prisoners to speak, to fill the uncomfortable quietness.  I didn’t say anything.  I am a lawyer, I use this tactic myself, to let a witness talk on, to say too much.  It is the rare witness who can force themselves to confine their answers to Yes or No.  More fools they.

 

I tried to marshal my thoughts; to prepare my arguments as to why Juli and I should be allowed to depart from the Lazy F, to return to San Francisco.  One thing I was determined on, I would not leave without her.  Not to ‘protect’ her, but because she was mine. Events and experiences had transformed us and our relationship.  One protects a Free Woman, one keeps hold of one’s property.  

 

Juli was property.  Our time on the Bighorn had transformed her.  She had called out that she was a slave; that she burned with slave fires. I would not leave the Lazy F without my property; I would not cravenly surrender my property to save my life. Juli was mine!

A Demonstration of a Paga Serve under Chloe's supervision

 

Tal, handsome masters, and gracious mistresses. My name, as always is Chloe, and I am the First Girl of the estate of the mighty Brinn Asssante. Please allow me to introduce Nadia who kneels on the tiles before you now. 

 

I have been First Girl and head trainer now for a number of years and during my time I have seen a large number of slaves come and go on the estate, for my Master buys girls at random like Earth men might collect vinyl records. Obviously the estate can only support so many slaves, and so periodically (once or twice a year) there is a cull and excess girls are taken by wagon, their ankles shackled to a central bar, to be sold in the nearby markets found in the foothills of the Sardar mountains.

 

I confess it is always a nervous time for the girls on the estate. They dread the moment coming and seem to redouble their effort to be found pleasing. Suddenly they are all begging for extra chores and displaying themselves before the guardsmen who serve my Master, with a level of enthusiasm never before seen in such wanton sluts. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Thirteen

We had dined on a couple of rabbits that we had purchased from the Inn Keeper’s cold room before setting out that day. Felix skinned, diced and cooked them in a pot with some herbs and root vegetables whilst Laetitia watched with interest.

 

Laetitia knelt as a free woman commonly kneels, in elegant tower, which seemed incongruous with the garment she now wore, let alone the steel collar that was locked so perfectly around her throat.

 

Felix seemed to barely look at her as he prepared the evening meal. Was this an indication that the felt she had shamed herself by allowing herself to be collared?  Or simply a desire to not embarrass her with unwanted stares? His frustrations would be all the more intense as he understood that the fate of his city hung in the balance. I was speculating of course. At some point I would have to speak to him about it. 

 

“You cook well, Felix,” said Laetitia as she ate her portion of the rabbit with impeccable table manners, despite having to use her fingers. “Considering you only had a single pot and a campfire.”

 

Felix simply nodded. Perhaps he didn’t care for the compliment from a slave girl. I really couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. He looked everywhere but at her, though when he did look at her there was no mistaking where he looked. The valley between her modest breasts drew the eye automatically. And there were a couple of small tears in the rep cloth just above her left hip. It was a cheap garment and she had snagged it in a thorn bush when she had gone to fetch water. Somehow the tears added to the garment’s allure. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twelve

 

We left the safety of the Inn an ahn later.

 

In contrast to her initial claim, it is only a collar, Laetitia had to be coaxed from her room when the time finally came. She stood at the edge of the doorway hyper ventilating. The reality that men and women would now see her like this had suddenly struck home, but rather too late. It is one thing to imagine how it might be to wear a slave collar, and quite another to actually wear it. Women never understand until the time actually comes. 

 

“They will not know who you are,” I assured her. 

 

Her eyes were downcast. She refused to look straight ahead for fear of seeing the way free men and women might now look at her. 

 

“Be brave,” I said. 

 

I had her walk before me. Step by step, her body shaking, she passed along the landing. 

 

“She is new to the collar,” I explained to a slave who was gathering used bedding from a nearby room.

 

“She’ll learn, Master,” said the slave. “We all do in time. Men see to that.”

 

“So we do.”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Eleven

 

The fact is I was now recognised, within Corcyrus at least, as being of the caste of Slavers.

 

I had collared a woman in the wilderness where the laws of Corcyrus and Torcadino do not apply.

 

The only law pertaining to enslavement of women that applies in the wilderness is Common Capture Law. Free Women are not protected from licensed and accredited slavers under Common Capture Law.

 

Technically speaking, I had just enslaved Lady Laetitia. 

 

She was my slave now.

 

Unfortunately that fact had only dawned upon me after the fact. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Ten

 

How could I explain the intervention of the sleen?

 

Frankly, I couldn’t. By all rights it should have seen me as available prey. I should now be dead, but instead it had sniffed at the ropes and chewed through them. 

 

Were I the kind of man who believed even slightly in divine intervention I would think my wild prayer had been answered, but I am rational and I know there are no gods lording themselves over Gor or anywhere else for that matter. Prayers, sadly, are never answered. 

 

It took me half an ahn to free my bound wrists and then it was simple enough to address myself to the ankle ties. I worked carefully and I had to wait until feeling returned to my fingers, but eventually I was free of the restraints.

 

I had been gone a whole day and most of the night. It would be dawn soon. Time was not on my side, for Miss Sally Reeve would be trying to get a message to Stannis Assante. Once she did, Stannis’s soldiers would head this way and we would not be able to hide from them for long. Our only hope had been that the forces of Argentum would have to spread their resources far and wide, being ignorant of the direction Laetitia might take to reach Torcadino. Once the search area was narrowed, Stannis could concentrate all his cavalry and find us.