Kajirus of Gor Chapter Forty: Final Chapter

 

At times like this I know there’s no point making excuses or trying to talk your way out of the situation. Anything you say is only going to make things worse. At times like this all you can do is get up and leave while you still can.

 

“You’re right,” I said with a disarming smile. “It’s really something I must get round to doing.” I rose from the table. “My thanks again for the paga. It was very generous of you, Julian, but I fear my lovely Kelsee was right to remind me of my appointment with Consus of Ar. I really shouldn’t keep him waiting. Heel me, Kelsee. We have to go.” I snapped my fingers in her direction.

 

And then, as I turned round, I came face to face with the hulking giant that was Atticus, Captain of the Guard. He had his muscled arms folded across his chest as he blocked my way.

 

“Sit down, Roland,” said Julian Lepidus. “Please.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Nine

 

Dexter and I were taken to a small cement floored cell, or a kennel, as the ranch hands tend to refer to it. We were to be kept separate from the females, for obvious reasons.  

 

“Big day for you tomorrow,” remarked Hawkins as he oversaw the two men who chained us by our wrists to a central iron ring bolted to the cement floor. “And for the fillies you came in with.”

 

“There is no Gor,” I said. “Just because everyone here has been conditioned to believe in it, doesn’t mean it exists.”

 

“Whatever, mister. Get some sleep. You’re being shipped out to Priest’s Hill tomorrow night.”

 

The barred door was slammed shut, followed by a clatter of a key turning in the lock. The men left the kennel shack, switching off the lights on their way.

 

“You belong to one of the families,” I said to Dexter, in the darkness. “What’s going on?” After having ranted and raved all the way to the lock up, telling Hawkins that he was a Bannon, and must be set free, Dexter was now uncharacteristically quiet. I sensed an air of despair in him that wasn’t encouraging.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Eight

 

“You have such a handsome, Master, Kelsee,” said Yarna as she embraced Chelsea again. “You must so love your collar! Does he make you squirm at nights?”

 

The expression on Chelsea’s face was priceless. She really didn’t know where to look. I really wish I could have taken a photograph of it for posterity.

 

“He, um…” Chelsea could hardly speak now.

 

“Oh, look, Kelsee is so embarrassed, now that we’re talking about her needs,” laughed Tasha. “Does she squirm, Master? Does she? Does she?” the girl then turned and asked me.

 

“Piteously,” I said, with an amused expression. “You’ve never seen such squirming in the furs.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Seven

 

“I’m Felicity Emery! Please, Mr Hawkins! It’s me! I’m Felicity!” A couple of the wyld wymen found it funny that Felicity was crying out to the men as she was brought down from the back of the flatbed and thrown to her belly on the bare grass. “You know me! You must know me!”

 

“So you are, Miss,” said Hawkins. “How come you’re naked? Shameful way for you to be.”

 

“They took away my clothes!” she sobbed. “Please Mr Hawkins, you have to help me! These women whipped me!”

 

Beside Hawkins, Hadley laughed, as she allowed the man to put his free arm around her waist. 

 

“I’ve been whipped!” cried Felicity. Rowan had put a leash about her throat and was leading her forward. 

 

“That’s a mighty rude thing to do to an Emery Lady, Miss. I can see you’re pretty vexed about it all.”

 

“They want to enslave me!”

 

“The little slut enslaved herself,” said Hadley. “She spoke the words.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Six

 

“What are you doing?” Chelsea took a measured step back as I approached her, holding a supple leather leash in my right hand.

 

“Leashing you, Mistress.”

 

“Don’t even think of it!” she snapped. She stood in her loft apartment, looking the very picture of slave loveliness, as she held up the palm of her right hand, ordering me to stop right where I was. She wore a slave tunic with its deeply plunging neckline that also drew attention to the smooth steel collar about her throat: the collar she was incapable of removing. She was barefoot, and would have no nether under garments under the brief, thin, clinging tunic. I could clearly see the outlines of her nipples. She probably wasn’t aware, but they were slightly enlarged. Standing before a man like this seemed to excite her on some subliminal level.

 

“It is part of your disguise, Mistress.”

 

“And I’m saying it’s not. You are not taking me through the streets of Argentum at the end of a leash.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Five

 

In much the same way that one does not simply walk into Mordor, one does not simply just become a wyld wyman.

 

“Put to the test?” said Kelly, with a trace of apprehension to her voice.

 

“You will need to prove to us that you have what is required to keep us strong. You have to prove you are not weak.” Anthea gazed at the pretty lace panties that Kelly wore. She gazed at the perfectly manicured French nails, and at her similarly manicured toenails. She observed Kelly’s perfect salon tan, and her expensive haircut. 

 

“I have what it takes,” she said. She had to say that, of course, for the alternative seemed to be slavery, toiling in the farm fields like the four collared girls who were watched by a wyld wyman, carrying a whip.

 

Anthea had a couple of the girls help Felicity to her feet. She was sobbing still, partly from the vicious whipping, but also from the realisation that she had enslaved herself in front of women who understood what that meant. “Please don’t do this,” she begged. “I have money.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Four

 

I hadn’t expected to feel any sympathy for Chelsea, so I surprised myself when I entered the apartment room that afternoon, and saw her hiding in her bed with the coverings tucked up under her chin. It was almost as if my mistress was hiding something from me. 

 

“Good afternoon, Mistress. I hope you had a good day?”

 

She whimpered and turned her face from me. She would of course now be wearing a steel collar about her throat. I suspected she might be naked, or dressed only in a slip under the coverlets. She had possibly spent an ahn or so before I returned, desperately trying to turn both keys in the locking mechanism of her collar – the very same collar she had casually locked around her throat this morning.

 

At first she probably fumbled with the lock, frustrated, and only after a few futile attempts with both keys would panic have set in. It was locked on her. Neither key now worked. There had to be something wrong with the locking mechanism. Had she run in panic to her wall mirror and stared at herself, clad still in a slave tunic, with an inflexible band of steel around her throat? Had she pulled with all her strength at the band of steel, thinking perhaps she might pull the lock open? There was no chance of that. Had she tried – a ridiculous notion, but panic conveys little in the way of common sense – tried to slip the collar up above her head? Had she beat her fists against the wall in desperation, crying as she realised she had no way of removing that collar now?

 

And had she finally remembered that I would be home soon, and so had rushed to her couch bed, drawing the coverings about her, thrusting them high under her chin to conceal the glimpse of steel?

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Three

 

Felicity ran as fast as she could. The wyld wymen had begun to encircle her, but it seemed they were careless. There was a gap still – an opportunity – and she seized upon it. You go, girl. Felicity found herself blocked from running towards the woodland in the distance, and she was blocked from running into the timber settlement, or towards the Bighorn, but the wyld wymen had not yet closed off Felicity’s opportunity to flee across the flat prairie land that stretched out to the far horizon.

 

The wyld wymen had been careless, it seems, in trapping her. Felicity turned on her heels and ran as fast as she could, sprinting across the temperate grassland. This natural topography in Montana is often referred to as a sea of grass, and it can range from 15 inches in height to an impressive 36 inches in the case of green needlegrass. Felicity ran, barefoot, desperate to get away from these women who were about to turn on her.

 

I didn’t understand the meaning of la kajira. I didn’t understand that those words could be spoken in a specific context which was in effect a legal form of self-enslavement. La kajira. I am a slave girl.  

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty Two

“I answer now to the name Fliss. That is the name my masters have given me.”

 

I nodded as I gazed down at the lovely Fliss, kneeling, naked, on an alcove platform in front of the Jewelled Anklet tavern, with a length of chain attached to her collar ring. “Felicity is the name of a Free Woman. I suppose it would not be appropriate for you, in your current state.”

 

She lowered her gaze as I said that. “I suppose not.”

 

“I am still called Roland. That is the name my mistress gave me.”

 

“You have a mistress, now? You are owned by a woman?” She looked up, meeting my gaze. I saw Fliss move slightly where she knelt on the narrow display alcove, the steel chain hanging down from her collar, between the valley of her breasts, to then pool slightly on the rough surface of the platform in front of the tavern, before terminating in the iron ring set firmly in the building’s stone work. She was very beautiful; breathtakingly beautiful in fact. Were I a free man, I would be sorely tempted now to enter the Jewelled Anklet and ask for her with my cup of paga.

 

But I was not a free man. And I had never seen the inside of a paga tavern.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty One

I had no idea where we were being taken. We marched through dark woodland, occasionally prodded by a spear butt if we slowed our pace. I was naked, trampling through the detritus that litters a woodland floor. I was in a foul mood, and I still didn’t fully comprehend the danger I was in. 

 

You have to understand that at this point I didn’t believe a single word that was spoken about alien worlds and slave ships carrying captives to Gor. Yes, I thought these women were deranged, but I assumed that was the extent of this. 

 

How wrong I was. 

 

“My feet hurt,” said Felicity as she gingerly stepped over broken twigs and loose stones. 

 

“Keep walking,” said Rowan. “it will be dawn soon, and we need to find the truck before the sun rises.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Thirty

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re interested in this area of the city,” remarked Chelsea as she led me down the street in the direction of the Dautium square. “You may be in a collar, but you are still a man, with a fascination, I suppose, for scantily clad slave girls.”

 

“Mistress is kind to take me there,” I said. 

 

A few days ago I had innocently enough broached the subject of paga taverns, and the Dautium in particular, speculating on what that area of the city might look like. As I suspected, Chelsea wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea of spending an afternoon walking the streets and squares of the Dautium, if she had some innocent enough excuse to do so – for example, treating her silk slave to the sights there. I think she now had a fascination for the Dautium quarter, from having spent time there masquerading as a kajira. The thought of walking those same streets in the formal robes and gowns and veils of a Free Woman probably appealed to her sense of mischief. Would she see her friends, when she returned as a Free Woman? They wouldn’t recognise her, of course, but she would know them. No doubt she was intrigued to observe them from a detached viewpoint, when they weren’t relating to her as a sister in bondage. 

 

And so I planted the idea in her mind, and a few days later Chelsea announced casually that she would grant my wish.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Nine

 

It’s possible that I didn’t truly comprehend the danger I faced, to begin with. They were women, after all. Yes, they had dragged me out of my ruined tent, pushed me onto my belly and swiftly bound my wrists with light rope, but they were still only women. It’s natural for a man to underestimate the level of danger when he’s faced with women. 

 

“Kiss my foot,” said Anthea as she stood up.

 

“Fuck off!”

 

She kicked me sharply in the face. 

 

“Kiss my foot. Submit.”

 

I still didn’t.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Eight

 

“I don’t understand. That is your mistress? Really?” Amara and I had risen from where we had been hiding behind the crates, piled high in the entranceway to a narrow alley. We watched now as Lady Savanna of Argentum, or Miss Chelsea Savannah Frick of Earth, depending on your viewpoint, hurried down the street in the opposite direction that I typically took to run my daily errands. She was clad not in her modest robes and gowns, fully veiled, as would be appropriate for the public street, but rather clad only in the skimpy, revealing tunic of a slave girl. She was barefoot, her hair was loose and she wore a slave collar.

 

“Are you absolutely sure?” said Amara.

 

“You don’t think I know what my mistress looks like?” It was an amazing sight. A surprising sight. An unbelievable sight. 

 

You wouldn’t know she was a Free Woman. Truly, you wouldn’t know. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Seven

 

“I mean, you can’t get away from the fact that a male supremacist ideology requires female subordination and negation,” remarked Kelly as she poked the camp fire with a stick. “There’s no way of getting round that. And women are complicit in their own subjugation, because for a sexual revolution to be viable, women with privilege and comfort have to be willing to give up those benefits in order to, like, show solidarity with women not so entitled. And we don’t. In fact we vigorously police ourselves, our behaviour, and we have done throughout the ages.”

 

“That’s a load of woke feminist crap,” said Dexter as he drank some whisky. “No one’s oppressing you.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Six

“Builder takes Rider of the High Tharlarion in my next move,” said Chelsea as she moved her coloured Kaissa piece five squares in a straight line to now threaten my Tharlarion piece. “You can only save your High Tharlarion by sacrificing another Spearman,” she remarked, looking pleased with herself. Little by little I was losing Spearmen pieces at an alarming rate. Chelsea seemed less interested in winning the game outright, and more interested in toying with me, delivering a victory of a thousand cuts, stripping me, piece by piece, until my Home Stone became vulnerable to her concentrated attacks. “You really are quite useless at this, as with so many other things,” she added as she sat back against the plum cushions on her couch. She wore a silk slip that was rucked up around her thighs, while I was naked. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Five

I didn’t see either Felicity or Dexter in the morning, and there was no sign of Cindy at breakfast either. In fact, I got the impression that due to my behaviour the night before I was now being kept apart from all the other guests to avoid any further scenes. I had calmed down a little after a restful sleep and begun to reflect that perhaps I had over reacted with Dexter. It didn’t seem to take much provocation for me to want to punch the man, but that’s not an excuse for actually doing so. 

 

Breakfast was served on silver plates on a ridiculously long table, at which I sat alone, by two of the maid servants who again were dressed in those uncomfortable, shapeless, starched Edwardian smocks that servants back then wore. They responded when I said good morning, but seemed reluctant to enter into any further conversation.

 

“No one else joining me?” I enquired.

 

But they didn’t know the answer to that question. 

 

Chelsea appeared as I was finishing my coffee, after I’d cleaned my plate of the eggs, bacon and hash browns. 

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Four

 

“I’m concerned that my mistress may have financial problems.” I said as I walked along the edge of the canal with the kajira, Amara, pacing barefoot beside me. We were sharing our lunch as we often did. I had a meat pastry and she had a draw string bag with scraps from her master’s breakfast table. Invariably my offerings were superior to anything she could share, but I didn’t really mind. It was the sharing something, that mattered. 

 

“Why is that, Roland?” Her Gorean was heavily accented, as was mine. We were both barbarians, both choice collar meat for the Gorean slavers who had abducted us. Our friendship was blossoming, and perhaps on Earth it might have developed into a meaningful relationship, but on Gor slaves were forbidden from coupling with one another. Amara was property. As was I. The laws of property ownership applied to both of us. 

 

“She has no obvious source of income so far as I can tell, and the money she has hidden in the apartment, what remains of it, was loaned to her by a friend.”

 

Amara took a small piece of the pastry that I offered to her. She smiled and placed it between her teeth as we walked together along the grassy canal bank. 

 

“She is lucky to have a friend like that,” said Amara. 

 

“Her friend is a slaver.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Three

 

I sat in the reception room on one of the sofas, feeling tired and pissed off as Dexter paced about the room shouting his mouth off again. If he was angry before, after I’d punched him and walked out into the gardens, he was the picture of rage now that I had been apprehended in what appeared to be a romantic assignment with Felicity, his fiancé, in the quiet solitude of the garden grounds. His rage wasn’t just directed at me, of course, but also at Felicity, who sat in tears on the other sofa as Dexter walked back and forth jabbing with his hand in her direction as he vented his anger.

 

Felicity clutched a blanket around her shoulders, covering the fact that she wore little more than her corset and underwear. The ranch hands had simply frog marched us to the house, not caring to give Felicity time to get dressed.

 

Over in the corner, Granny watched proceedings with a stern gaze. Hawkins guarded the door to the hallway. He still held his rifle, but in the rest position.

 

And then Chelsea returned and entered the room.

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty Two

 

Chelsea seemed anxious and agitated now, barely holding still, as I fixed and pinned her hair in place. 

 

“I spent too long on the couch with you,” she said. “Kelapina will be here in less than half an ahn, and I’m not ready.”

 

“You will be beautiful, Mistress,” I said as I allowed a few locks to hang down beside her ears. I wished she would hold still. Her flustered state was making this dressing more difficult than it might otherwise be. I moved to her side and regarded my handiwork. Damn, but she did look good. I seemed to have a knack for this. 

 

“The food will be ready when it is time to dine, yes?” asked Chelsea. She regarded herself in the mirror and smiled at how good her hair now looked. “Oh, but this is splendid, Roland! You are so clever.”

Kajirus of Gor Chapter Twenty One

 

The captive woman began to scream hysterically as she was lain down on her belly over some heavy packing crates. One man gripped her long hair and held her head down while a second man seized her ankles and held those firmly in place. The third man, Hawkins, then produced a hunting knife and set about cutting away the girl’s shirt, cut off shorts and then discarded the ruined fabric. He then removed her hiking boots and thick socks, leaving her with only a matching set of blue panties and bra. 

 

I felt I should do something, but I also knew I stood no chance against these three men, two of whom were armed with rifles and the third carried a hunting knife. 

 

The girl was then lifted up and dragged kicking and screaming to a length of chain that hung from a pulley attached to the steel beams supporting the roof. There was a winch that could raise and lower the chain. Her wrists were untied from behind her back, only then to be secured in a set of tight shackles attached to the free end of the chain.

 

“Please don’t do this! Please! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I swear!”

 

The girl was then slowly hoisted to her feet, her arms suspended above her head now as one of the men turned the wheel, shortening the length of chain until the girl was now forced to hang there with her toes barely touching the cement floor.