Barbarian of Gor Chapter Thirty Five

This was the life for a Hero of Gor!

 

I lay slumped against the edge of a wide Roman style heated bath that measured approximately sixteen feet by eight while two naked slave girls soaped and washed me with the sort of loving care and dutiful attention that a Hero of Gor deserved. Close to hand, served on bronze plates at the side of the bathing pool, was an excellent goblet of wine and a selection of cheeses, cured meats and fruit. A third slave girl was delicately peeling each of the black grapes in turn and feeding them to me between her teeth. I took each grape in turn and then kissed those luscious lips as they leaned towards me.

 

The air was scented with jasmine, and soft flute and harp music was being plucked and teased from instruments some chambers away. I felt at peace at last as I lay in the warm water, feeling those soft kajira hands please me. One of the girls – Koya – was oiling my penis, which was by now completely rigid and protruding like a ferocious sea monster from the depths. Ahh, bliss. 

 

“Does Master like that?” asked Koya as she did things to my shaft that I really can’t describe. 

 

I sighed. “You’re the best, Koya – the very best.”

 

“Thank you, Master.” 

 

“Where are you from, Koya? Before you gained a collar?” I always liked to know a little bit about the girls I played with. 

 

“Samnium, Master, if it pleases you.”

 

And why wouldn’t it? I sighed again. “Sluts from Samnium are the best,” I said.

 

“I’m so pleased you think that, Master. We are natural slaves, I think. We all belong in collars.”

 

“Mmmm, so you do. Just keep…” I gasped for a moment, “doing that, Koya. With that rhythm. You have it perfect just as it is.”

 

“I am not going to let you come, Master, not for a while at least,” said Koya with a wink. “I am just going to keep you here so close to the edge.”

 

“You do that. I really don’t want this to end.” I sighed again and stretched out my arms, awash with pleasure. Gor was wonderful! Right now, if you offered me a first class flight back to Earth I’d have to turn it down. 

 

We had done it. The Lady Laetitia had been delivered safely to the palace of the Ubar of Torcadino, and she was even now being bathed and appropriately dressed by her own hand maiden slaves given to her by Gaius Antony.

 

I had been wrong to worry about Gaius. If he really was on the payroll of Argentum then he had missed the ideal opportunity to kill us all and snatch Kayra. It wouldn’t have been difficult while we were in his power. Kayra was now in the palace and beyond his easy reach. I was in the palace, too, and enjoying every moment of it. 

 

These were pleasure slaves, and as the description suggested, they had been trained exclusively in giving pleasure to masters, and, who knows, possibly even mistresses? Gor has pretty much the same tolerance of homosexuality as ancient Greece and Rome did. Now that I considered the possibility, I was determined to satisfy my curiosity.

 

“Tell me, Koya – your training – were you trained to please women as well as men?”

 

Koya smiled.

 

“No, really, I’m curious.”

 

“Surely Master isn’t prying into the ways of Free Women, is he?” said Koya as her wet hand stroked some more oil around the shaft of my penis. I moaned softly again, my mind taken off my question as she had probably intended.

 

“I just… oh God, that’s so…” I was putty in her hands, and the smiling slave knew it. 

 

“Relax, Master, and just enjoy the pleasure that Koya can give.” She touched her rouged lips briefly and ever so tenderly to the head of my penis until I trembled where I lay in the water. 

 

“That was…” I gasped. “Do that again.”

 

“Master is so close. Let Koya decide when to touch Master with her lips again. Trust in Koya’s experience,” she said, smiling. The other two slaves were also smiling as they saw how deftly Koya was handling me. Slaves relish the moments of power they have when a man is overcome with pleasure by their hands. 

 

“Yeah, sure, you’re the expert here. Okay.”

 

I was on some crazy plateau where I was almost but not quite coming, and the sensations that now washed through my body were ones I’d never experienced before as I felt every inch of my body trembling. It was like an out of body experience that can only come from being expertly teased and held on a balancing point that nature hadn’t intended anyone to linger on for long. 

 

“Where did you learn this?” I gasped. 

 

“Samnium, Master. Where I was collared. The slave pits of Samnium”

 

“And I thought Kelly was good,” I gasped. “This is a whole different level.”

 

“Tense your thighs, Master, while I touch you… here…”

 

I thrashed in the water as I tightened my thighs at the precise moment Koya touched me THERE.

 

“FUCK! And I haven’t even come yet! What’s that going to be like!”

 

“Bliss, Master, sheer bliss.”

 

Which is about as far as I got to complete bliss, as at that precise moment Adam and Felix entered the bath chamber. They were both dressed in fresh linen and were ready to formally present the Lady Laetitia Mercator to Sellius Gavia, the second son of the Ubar of Torcadino.

 

“Finish up,” said Adam, “and get yourself dressed in a clean tunic. We have to collect the Lady Laetitia.”

“Is it that time already?” I said. “Just give me a few more ehn, and I’ll be with you,” I continued to teeter on the edge of the greatest orgasm I was ever likely to have.

 

“Finish him off,’ said Adam to the slave, Koya. “And quickly.”

 

Koya dipped her head into a respectful nod and simply glided her fingers up the shaft of my penis in one smooth motion. I ejaculated a rush of semen in a sudden squirt that was far too quick for my liking. I had been cheated.

 

Koya looked apologetic, but what could she do? She was a slave and she been given a command.

 

“Better change the water, Koya,” said Adam as he gazed at the droplets of semen now dispersing on the water’s surface of the bath. “Come on, Roland. Chop-chop.”

 

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“How do I look, Roland?” asked Kayra as she stood nervously before me. Gone was the brief, but exciting, slave tunic that had ridden so high on her thighs and which had hugged the slim curves of her youthful body. That garment had displayed her to great effect, leaving us in no doubt that she was a sexually desirable young woman. Now, however, she wore the aloof, smoky gowns of shimmering silks that were her robes of concealment. Gaius had provided her with a complete wardrobe to choose from, and handmaiden slaves had slowly and elegantly dressed her in multiple folds of expensive silks, velvets, and brocades embroidered with intricate patterns and adorned with precious metals and gems. The colour of Kayra’s outer robes was a deep, royal blue, worked artfully with traces of gold and silver thread into the fabric, adding a subtle yet unmistakable hint of opulence. She would be wearing several such gowns layered one upon the other. The outer gown was the longest with its sweeping lines that shrouded the contours of her body, presenting instead the illusion of a slim sheath of fabric. The fabric almost but not quite touched the floor, leaving only the tips of her jewelled slippers peeking from beneath the hem. There was a stiff, high collar to the garment that obscured the girl’s neck, and long, flowing sleeves that covered her arms completely, extending into wide laced cuffs from which her gloved fingers emerged. 

 

Kayra’s outer robe was adorned with subtle but meaningful embellishments that hinted at her social status, house affiliation, and city of origin. For convenience, the robes would include a series of hidden pockets which were meant for personal belongings or for carrying important documents or tokens. The garment was hooded, the folds of the hood draped loosely about her shoulders, covering Kayra’s braided hair and, as is typical on Gor, the lower features of her face were now obscured by a series of opaque veils. These were pinned carefully in place with a series of clasps and hooks.

 

The robes of a Gorean Free Woman serve both a practical and symbolic purpose. They are meant to protect the woman’s modesty and ensure her status as a free individual. In the society of Gor, the Free Woman’s robe is a physical manifestation of her autonomy, her ability to choose her own fate, and her refusal to submit to the control of a man. Why should she submit to the rough caresses of a man? She is free, and aloof, and autonomous in the true Kantian definition of the word. 

 

The robe’s concealment is also a way to protect the woman from the male gaze, offering her a kind of shield. It is both a declaration of her status and an assertion of her control over her own body. Unlike the slave girls, who are often dressed provocatively to display their beauty and desirability, the Free Woman’s robes protect her from such objectification, giving her a sense of dignified distance.

 

“You are every inch the little Tatrix,” I said in approval.

 

“I feel so much better now that I am dressed again,” she replied, turning herself to the left and then the right so that I could admire the way the soft fabrics of her gowns shimmered in the lamplight. 

 

“Your companion to be will be impressed,” I suggested. “He will fall in love with you from the moment you enter the room.”

 

“I hope so,” said Kayra. I noticed how her smoky kohl-edged eyes watched me from above her veils. We were alone in her chambers for the moment. Her hand maiden slaves had been banished to an adjoining room. “I love you,” she said.

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

“I will always love you. It doesn’t matter whether you love me back.”

 

“You have your duty.”

 

“I have my duty. But when I lie on my back on a couch and part my thighs for my companion to enjoy me, I will be thinking of you, Roland. He will have full use of my body, but my mind will be elsewhere.”

 

“You may in time find love with your companion,” I said. “Stranger things have happened in political companionships in the past.”

 

“I have already found love,” said Kayra, sadly, “and now duty demands I must cast love and all future happiness aside. I am my city. Corcyrus is all.”

 

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We – that is, Kayra, Adam, Felix, and I - entered the audience chamber and found ourselves inside an immense hall dominated by a tall, coffered ceiling. The cool air smelt faintly of incense and polished stone. The floor was gleaming marble, patterned with coloured mosaics that seemed almost too fine to tread upon, and as we walked towards the far end of the room where a throne like chair was raised upon a set of marble steps, my eyes were drawn down a long central aisle framed by towering Corinthian columns; their fluted shafts rising like stone trees, disappearing into the lofty dimness above my head. Between them stood a series of tall statues gazing down at us; a procession of  ancient heroes and former Ubars of Torcadino past, each one watching, expressionless, as though judging our presence here today.

 

Broad shafts of light streamed in from a series of high, narrow windows, the light catching on the gilt edges of shields and spearheads held by the palace guards who lined the hall. The guards didn’t move as we advanced down the aisle towards the far throne, but their polished helmets and heavy shields reflected the flicker of the nearby braziers. 

 

Drapes of deep purple hung like flags behind a raised platform, their folds heavy and luxurious—the unmistakable colour of an imperial dominion of an ambitious and arrogant city state. Steps lead upward to the throne itself - a seat of ivory and bronze, its arms shaped into curling lions, its back gleaming with inlaid patterns that shimmered like captured sunlight.

 

Sellius Gavia, the second eldest son of the Ubar of Torcadino, sat, or rather lounged on a high backed throne, looking like a bored teenager. He wore a laurel wreath on his head, despite the fact he had little chance of ever succeeding his father in ruling Torcadino, and he wore high quality garments of white linen edged in scarlet. I judged he was about the same age as Kayra, possibly a year or so either side. Despite the edging of scarlet on his chosen garments, he didn’t have the disciplined poise of a warrior. 

 

Chained to three slave rings set into the base of his throne chair were three naked pleasure slaves. They lay curled about his throne like extravagant trophies, like a conqueror might display his plunder. Their faces were made up with sultry slave cosmetics, and their bodies were toned and sensual in the way they moved softly within the extent of their chains. This was a vulgar and impolite display before a Free Woman of high station who was here to become the young man’s companion in a political marriage. Free Women do not relish the sight of naked pleasure slaves draped around a room like soft furnishings, and generally speaking men try not to embarrass Free Women by displaying such slaves when ladies are present. I sensed Kayra stiffened sightly as she entered the room and saw the naked kajirae.

 

“This is her?” said Sellius Gavia as he leaned to the side and spoke to another young man who I assumed must be a close confidante or childhood friend. 

 

“Apparently so,” said the friend. He sat on the edge of the marble steps leading up to the throne. As I watched he ran his hands through the long, cascading hair of one of the pleasure slaves and stifled a decadent yawn.

 

“Can’t see much of her the way she’s all bundled up in veils and robes,” remarked Sellius. The comment was in poor taste for many reasons. 

 

“Your Grace,” said Kayra as she gathered her soft silken skirts with the tips of her fingers and curtsied before him. “My mother has spoken so highly of your great deeds. Long have I waited for this day when I can at last meet you. I am deeply humbled in your presence.”

 

“The Lady Laetitia Mercator of Corcyrus,” said Adam in his most mannered and cultured voice. “First born of the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Heiress presumptive of Corcyrus.”

 

“Ah, yes, Corcyrus, the beggar city who started a war it couldn’t finish,” said Sellius Gavia. His friend chuckled as he sat on the marble steps. “Welcome to Torcadino, Lady Laetitia,” continued Sellius. “My father tells me we’re to be companioned.”

 

“Nothing would please me more, your Grace,” said Laetitia. “I have lived for this day.”

 

“They need our armies,” mused Sellius as he turned to his friend. “We have the finest armies in all of Gor, haven’t we, Titus?”

 

“The very best,” agreed his friend. “We have never been beaten on the field of battle. Torcadino’s legions are always supreme, and under your leadership, always will be.” 

 

Sellius Gavia nodded, pleased with the answer. “Rest assured, Lady, that I am the greatest military leader in all of central Gor. As a commander of men I exceed even the lauded Stannis Assante. Isn’t that right, Titus?”

 

“It is, Sellius. Everyone says so.”

 

“See. Everyone says so,” remarked Sellius as he rose now and began to pace around the prim and proper figure that Kayra presented before him. “Under my command the armies of Torcadino will save your weak city. My legions will crush your enemies and drive them from the field like so much wheat before the peasant scythe. I dare say your grateful mother will prostrate herself on the marble floor of her palace and kiss my sandalled feet in gratitude when I cast the severed heads of her enemies at her feet. Tell me, is your mother really as audacious as the rumours suggest? Does she appear face stripped in public?”

 

“It is traditional in recent times that the people of Corcyrus may gaze upon the face of their Tatrix,” said Kayra. 

 

“That’s rather lewd,” said Sellius with a smile. “I hear she is pretty, your mother? Will I like her?”

 

“I am sure you will find her to be a proud and respectable woman, your Grace. She will declare you a hero.”

 

“I might ask to fuck your mother. Do you think she would pay that price to save her city?” Sellius grinned. “Perhaps I could fuck the two of you together in the same couch bed after I enter her city in victory with my legions. That would be amusing, wouldn’t it, Titus? Mother and daughter, both taking it in turns to please me with their slut holes.”

 

“Just let me know if you need another cock,” said Titus with a laugh as he clasped Sellius and they play wrestled for a moment, their feet sliding on the marble floor before Sellius seemed to win. 

 

“Why would I possibly need your flaccid tool,” laughed Sellius. “Except perhaps to show the Lady what she might have had to settle for if she hadn’t been given to me.”

 

I glanced at Adam while Sellius and Titus were occupied, but Adam’s face betrayed absolutely no emotion. 

 

“I want to see YOUR face,” said Sellius, turning suddenly to face Kayra again. “I want to see what I’m supposed to have as a companion. You had better not resemble a she-sleen.”

 

The request startled Kayra, and it surprised me, too. This was not the sort of thing a man should ever ask of a Free Woman. To ask her to face strip herself was the height of disrespect. I could see Kayra was fumbling for some sort of reply before Adam stepped in.

 

“It is traditional that you will see your companion fully on the day of your companionship, your Grace,” said Adam

 

“And I say I want to see her now. I might not like what I see. Show yourself, Lady.”

 

Adam tried again on Kayra’s behalf. “This is not the done thing, your Grace. There are protocols.”

 

“Did I ask for your opinion? Did I?” Sellius now walked towards Adam and pushed him back a few steps with one hand against his chest. “Just who am I?”

 

“Sellius Gavia, second born of the Ubar of Torcadino, your Grace,” said Adam, somehow holding his temper. “Commander of the Second, Fourth and Ninth Legions.”

 

“And the Twelfth!” screamed Sellius. He slapped Adam hard across the face. 

 

“And the Twelfth,” added Adam, barely flinching from the sudden blow. “Forgive me, your Grace.”

 

“That’s right, and if I want to see what she looks like, I will see what she looks like. Remove your veils, Lady,” Sellius said, turning back to Kayra.

 

Kayra said nothing. For a moment she maintained her composure, and then her gloved hands moved to the pins at the side of her veils, releasing them one at a time. This was painful for her, and highly disrespectful on the part of Sellius Gavia. 

 

“Are those… freckles? Across the bridge of her nose?” Sellius moved closer, as Titus came to join him. 

 

“I think they are,” mused his friend, Titus. “See how they are speckled above each cheek. You know what they remind me of?”

 

“That fire crotch slave from Samnium,” laughed Sellius. “She had freckles like these. We both had her in the furs. I was first, of course. She’d never been fucked so hard before. She probably still dreams of my cock. No other man will ever satisfy her the way I satisfied her. The slut.”

 

“The very same,’ agreed Titus. “She was a hot little slut, wasn’t she? The slaver, Scipio Metellus, refers to freckles as the Spray of Sparks from the Forge, which is also the name of the carpet of stars the Priest-Kings set in the sky to remind men that they we are the masters of iron. With iron we make spearpoints and swords, and with them we take whatever we desire. But the Spray of Sparks from the Forge in the Sky also reminds women that it is men, and men only, who are the masters of iron, and with that iron we can make steel collars for women, and use the forge to heat iron to brand women as property and hold them as nature commands.”

 

“You are a philosopher, friend Titus,” said Sellius Gavia as he clasped his friend on the shoulder. “Thank the Priest Kings for giving men iron, and the lovely bodies of women that we may then collar with our steel.”

 

This conversation was highly inappropriate in the presence of Kayra, but Sellius Gavia didn’t seem to care. He spoke as if she wasn’t there. I watched as he regarded her exposed face and briefly ran his fingers across the bridge of her nose, tracing the fine line of freckles to either side. “The Priest Kings marked you with the Spray of Sparks from the Forge, Laetitia. How exquisite.”

 

“Her hair is dark,” said Titus, “but the Spray of Sparks from the Forge suggests otherwise.”

 

“My hair is dyed, Sir,” said Laetitia. “I was disguised coming here.”

 

“I think she’s a Fire Crotch,” said Titus with a laugh. The term was vulgar and highly inappropriate for any Free Woman, let alone one of high status. I could feel Kayra’s discomfort and embarrassment now.

 

“Did you know some cities routinely enslave a Fire Crotch?” said Sellius as he ran his fingers along Kayra’s long braid of hair. “It is said they are spoiled for freedom. Your hair is very long,” he added as an afterthought. 

 

“Please, your Grace. I am to be your companion,” said Kayra, close to tears now. “Be kind, I beg you.”

 

“She’s probably frigid,” said Titus as he seemed to grow bored with the conversation. “She won’t even know what a man looks like naked. You’ll scare the life out of her on your bedding night, Sellius. When the great beast rises from your groin!”

 

The second son of the Ubar laughed. “That I will. I’m a monster down there,” he said, cupping his crotch through his tunic and making thrusting motions towards Kayra. “I’ll put a baby into her. That’s what father wants from me, and he’s promised me a stable full of tharlarions if I make her pregnant before the month is out. The Royal Physician will work out her body cycles and I’ll be told when she’s likely to be the most fertile, so I don’t have to waste too much time with her.”

 

There was a trace of a tear in Kayra’s eyes as she stood before the Ubar’s son, trying to maintain some measure of dignity. 

 

“You’ll give me a strong son, won’t you, girl?” asked Sellius as he turned her bare face to the left and then the right, taking stock of her features. “You are certified for breeding?”

 

“Sons or daughters your Grace.”

 

“I don’t care about daughters. I want sons. Give me a mewling girl and I’ll have you switched by your hand maidens.” The random thought seemed to amuse Sellius. “Yes! By the Priest Kings! How about that, girl? Would you like to be stripped and switched by your serving slaves?”

 

Kayra looked visibly shocked. “Your Grace… I will give you a son. I swear I will.”

 

“You had better. I have no use for daughters. Girls are weak.”

 

“I think we should go hunting today,” said Titus, with a drawn out yawn. “How about it, Sellius? And then wine afterwards. And then we’ll send for some of our Samnium sluts when night falls.”