((This is a work of fiction.))
It was hard to believe that a mere two weeks ago she sat on the other side of the square laughing with her friends and getting teased. "Ceri wants a collar!" they laughed when one of the big warriors gave her a wink and she showed a bit of ankle to him.
He just laughed and moved on. She was still barely into her sixteenth summer and he was at least twice her age. The girls giggled and laughed and she laughed to telling them "I don't want a collar! You do!"
Truthfully she didn't. Unlike many girls her age she liked to talk about boys, looked at boys. She knew some of her friends would soon be taking Free Companions. She had looked at herself naked in the mirror and liked what she saw. But she never once thought of wearing a collar.
Now she did, and it scared her.
That was two weeks ago and the sun was just starting to peek out from behind the leaden clouds. "It's going to be a wet cold day" she thought and curled up into a fetal position. Then despite herself laughed, amazed at how she could think of the weather on the day of her sale into slavery. She sighed and tugged on the chain on her ankle. It was not going to budge she knew that. There were no more tears. Although she knew there would be fresh ones soon.
She was young, pretty, untrained and because of her fathers debt, cheap. "A bargain," the slaver had said "give me 3 months and I could get a silver for her!" But the debt to the city was not even half that. So she would be sold to a another slaver hopefully. Where she might be trained to serve well, a rich man's house or pleasure garden.
"I am already thinking like a slave" she thought and cursed. For what they wanted for her she would most likely end up in a paga tavern somewhere. Serving food and drinks to ugly mean men that could use her for a price of a cup for paga. She shivered and blamed the cold morning air. At least the Market was still empty. At least her friends would not see her shame.
"Did you hear about Ceri? She's a slave now, sold this very morning. Her father was such a low life, never paid the city taxes! Would rather spend it on wine and song in the taverns!" She started to cry anew thinking these thoughts. Oh the horror of possibly serving one of her fathers friends!
The cuff on the back of her head brought her back to reality. "WE HAVE CUSTOMERS KAJRIA! ON YOUR KNEES!" Ceri quickly went into nadu. She felt the slaver's quirt on her back once and straitened, thrusting her breasts out and sucking in her tummy.
"Buy me Master" was the refrain and it started on her left. Ceri started to quake...but the man and his free companion never made it to the little brown haired girl. They stopped three shy of her and purchased a blond they named Dina on the spot.
Again Ceri looked across the square, cursing her father and how she got there. She traced the Kef with her finger, how it had burned!
"Buy me Master."
Ceri looked over briefly and saw the man, he was of the wine makers. He looked over each girl, talking in a light and good natured voice to the slaver. "Someone for the fields I should think. I want to give the Free men that work their an incentive."
He stopped and examined a red head named Lana and made some inquiries, fondling her breasts and examining her teeth. Then moved on down the line. Closer and closer.
Ceri started praying to the Priest-Kings for what she was not sure. To either be passed over or bought? She was afraid and confused and a hundred other emotions all bundled into one. He was getting closer.
Ceri was startled by the voice that came out of her body. It sound soft and sultry. "Buy me Master."
He stopped. "And who might you be eh? Stand." His voice was deep and rich in timbre.
She stood. Or rather the girl stood, for Ceri had stepped outside herself and was looking at the scene. "Certainly a pretty little beast" the man said.
She watched as if a dream as he examined her teeth, her eyes. Fondled her breasts and felt her buttocks. "Worthy of more coin then your getting for her slaver!"
"I know," the man she come to hate said through crooked teeth, "but she is being sold for payment of back taxes. You know how the city is." He spat on the ground.
Ceri looked up at the man briefly...saw the kindness in his blue eyes, then quickly looked back down. She did not wish to be beaten again. The man and the slaver talked. She halfheartedly listen. She knew the outcome.
The snap of the leash on her collar confirmed it.
The slaver undid the ankle bracelet. Her Master asked her a question, "What is your name slave?"
Ceri answered him, the way she had been taught. He then gave her a new name. "Ceri."
"Yes Master." she said, pleased with her new name.
A tug on the leash, and Ceri followed.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
A Kajira comes home.
The first story posted takes place in the Universe created by John Norman and his Gor novels. I borrow some of his ideas for this story and respect his works deeply. It is actually a collaboration between myself and a friend of mine named Rhyn. The tale is a bit long and could use an editor but it's a fun little piece.
Please understand that some of the names metioned are based upon are past history, using a program called Second Life, and really don't play into the story that much.
A kajira comes home.
Walking along a quiet path, a girl hidden in the blue gowns and veils of a scribe, cries silent tears . . .lonely and lost. She was once a very valuable commodity, highly loved and desired. Now, alone, she is nothing but Free. But, Free to do and be what? She is slave at heart and that slave heart is lost and feels heavy buried beneath all of that clothing.
Somewhere on this same path walks a Master planning for a new role in life as a merchant, having given up the medical field for a quieter life on Gor. He hears the rustle of skirts and knows it is not safe for a woman alone in Gor. He follows his ears and looks upon the back of a Free Woman. She turns as she hears someone approach and the two lock eyes. Her green eyes were unforgettable and flashed like emeralds.
She could barely breath as she looked upon the face of the Man who trained her and loved her. Her Master. Her reason for living, once upon a time. Although her face was mostly covered by a veil, her eyes spoke volumes. Tears swam at the edges of her lashes.
He called her name . . .just the one word, "Rhayn". She stepped into his arms, trembling. As his arms wrapped gently around her, the tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks.
He caught her in his arms, her body trembling and shaking like a Tur leaf in a thunderstorm. He did not know her problems, her troubles or why she cried so, but he held her and found that memories flooded in. Of long nights in front of the fire, of dinners and dancing and stories...memories that he thought he lost. They came back to him so vivid that he thought he needed to brush them them from his eyes.
His hand rose up and he found that he to was crying, shaking. He held the girl and straightened. Looking into her mane of dark hair, he whispered in her ear "I have missed you to Rhayn, my kajira."
Quickly he gasped and held her at arms length, she was no longer a mere slave to do with what he would. She was a free woman, proud and strong! He could do nothing but give her the respect that she deserved.
"Tal, Free woman....Tal, Lady Rhayn." He said quietly. "Although I am happy, well very happy to see you again I will admit this is not quiet the greeting I was expecting." He lowered his head and asked for forgiveness in his slip of the tongue.
He smiled and whipped his brow on his sleeve. He quickly bowed, taking a gloved hand in his own and imparted a single kiss. "A pleasure to see you again my sweet Lady."
Quickly he scanned over her, she was the same old Rhayn. Fire in her devilish green eyes and a bit of unkempt red hair in an other wise stylish hairdo. He could not help but wonder if her body was still curvy and supple under the dress of a free woman. He thought back for a second, thinking of how is glowed in the firelight.
She wore the color blue, which from the high quality of the fabric meant that she was successful as a scribe. He was glad of that fact. He wished he nothing but success and his heart was lightened by her obtaining it.
Still though the girl...no, the Lady, cried before him.
Although it was not common to show a lady affection in public, he placed his strong arms around her and started to pull her into his chest. "Please my lady, do not cry so!" He continued, "These are not tears of joy upon seeing an old friend are they Lady Rhayn?"
Shaking her head sadly, she replied, "Although it is a blessing of the Priest Kings to see you again, I fear the tears are not of joy." Looking over her veil into his blue eyes that shone like sapphire she said in a quiet voice, "I cry because I have lost who I am and cannot seem to locate the girl. I cry because I find myself alone, always alone. I cry, because seeing all this fabric upon my body makes me feel so trapped."
She flicks the veil covering the lovely features of her face with an annoyed flick of her wrist . . . " . . .and this infernal thing. . . .But, I have learned a Lady does not speak thus. I beg forgiveness of you my friend and hope you will excuse my behavior". Turning imploring eyes to the Man who was her teacher, her trainer, her Master . . . "do you even recognize the kajira I once was? Do you still see her in me? I miss her. She . . .I . . feel so lost. It is my heart to serve, yet I have none that want me to do so. It is my joy to see pride on the face of one such as yourself, yet I was abandoned. Tell me, as I am not from Gor, do Master's that are proud of their kajira abandon them and leave them to rot alone?" She sniffs as a fresh flood of tears begins, yet this is anger and shame, not sadness. "I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and do not feel as though you did such . . . it was Serapis. My only recourse was to become city slave and you know that the thought of such was deplorable to me. I chose the veil over a city collar and now . . now I have only words to serve and that is not fulfilling."
Turning her back so that he does not see her weakness she asks, "what am I to do and who will ever love a FW who only knows how to be a kajira? And, how can I be a kajira when I have been . . .this?"
Although she knows it is against protocol, she lowers her veil as she turns once more to face him, her lower lip trembling from the efforts of keeping her emotions in check . . .
He stood their taken aback by her words, her lovely face - something he had always enjoyed staring at - looked at him. Despite the tears that rolled down her cheeks and the trembling lip he did see the kajira she once was. The seductive little vixen, the playful little girl, the strong minded woman. Again he was taken aback by all woman are and are capable of, yet they sometimes choose slavery over freedom. He shook his head, knowing he would never understand the mind or the heart of the opposite sex.
He reached out tenderly, touching her cheek. "Lady Rhayn," he spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper, "I do miss and the kajira you once were. I still see it in you. How many nights did we have together? How much laughter? Owning you was a joy, despite your best efforts to not make it so." A slight smile crossed his lips.
Continuing on he said, "Those days are gone now. You are a Free Woman." He sighed but did not let go of her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, pressing against her lips and tasting her. Memories again flooded through him, and something primal began to stir.
"No." he thought. "This is wrong but why does it feel so right." He released the woman in front of him and took a step back."
"Lady Rhayn, forgive me." He smiled and bowed slightly. "Your beauty drove me to the kiss." He laughed then, from the heart. "Ah I do understand how one such as you became successful! Serapis was a fool!"
Turning he walked away one or two steps and then turned facing her. "As was I for ever letting you go." He continued, "The heart wants what it wants dear lady. But their is so much history between us, so much time. Even if you are missing the collar, their is no promise it will be what it once was. I've grown older Lady Rhayn, meaner and ornerier. Gor is not what it once was, nor am I."
He sat down on a nearby stump and looked at her. This woman that was once slave, who always spoke from the heart. "I seek not Free Companions or slaves. I seek only peace."
She lifted her skirts slightly from the thigh, pulling the hem of the skirt up enough that she could move her feet freely. She walked softly, closing the space between them and looked down at this marvelous man that her heart still ached for. The stolen kiss had warmed her in ways she had forgotten were possible. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she reached out and caressed the cheek of the man she knew so well. "Mast . . .Adam, you have always been such a good man. You treated me as if I was more than just some wretch. You were patient with me as I learned. You were so giving with me when I became red silk. You have been such a wonderful friend to me. I seek no Free Companion now either. I am not whole enough inside to be such. I do not know that a collar could save me either. I do seek peace as well."
She trailed her soft thumb across his lips and smiles softly, "And please do not apologize for kissing me for it will never be something I would regret."
Releasing the warmth of his cheek, she sits on the stump beside him, skirts billowing out around her, her long hair falling across her shoulder as she bends. She begins to toy with the ends of her hair to give her hands something to do, she looks at him, tilts her head slightly to the right and grins. "I have been so distraught that it appears I have forgotten my manners. Please sir, tell me how your life has been since we parted."
Leaning back and resting on the stump with her hands behind her propping her up, she does not realize that she looks like an offering to the Man with her chest thrust upward and her face smiling up at him . . .
He laughed a quiet laugh, quiet and light. He had missed her and sitting on the stump next to her had reminded him of that, as had the kiss. He brushed his hand through thick black hair and then scratched his little beard. It had been several days since he had shaved, when he was a doctor he had shaved nearly every day as was required by his caste. Now that he was a merchant...it mattered little.
"Where to begin sweet Rhayn?" Then without prompting he began, talking about the adventures he had...the pain. He had regrettably left the Oasis of Nine Wells after a plague had started that killed most of the citizens of the fair city. How he and his current kajira Kitten wandered Gor, barely surviving...how he had considered selling the girl but in the end she had stayed with him, till at last they reached family and were offered shelter in the city of Port Olni. How he considered taking a position in the Physician's office there but how he had time to think during his long journey.
"Today," He grinned, "I am a simple wine merchant. I've seen to much death Rhayn, to much." He looked down at his feet then, saddened by seeing a city die before him and unable to help, to do anything.
Feeling his pain as if it were her own, she reached out and held his hand between the softness of her own. "Adam, I know you did all that you could to save Nine Wells. Do not fret so, Sir, for none could or would have done more for the city. Kitten is lucky to have you for a Master, never doubt that either. I have heard much of Olni and honestly, the town frightens me a bit but I am so happy to hear that you have found a life that makes you happy. You are happy, are you not? I could not bear it if you were not."
Being so close to him again had her pulse racing. She felt as if her heartbeat could be heard throughout Gor for she could certainly hear it loud and clear. She had to concentrate on controlling her breathing so that he did not realize how his closeness to her effected her. Yet, she could not bear the thought of not being right where she was right now. With Adam. With her Master, if only in her memories. He said he sought not another kajira, but if one were offered to him, what would he do? What would he say? Could she ever be a cherished kajira again? Had she forgotten everything? Would he ever want her again, as he once had?
Realizing she had grown very quiet as her mind raced with questions she could never answer for herself, she cleared her throat and smiled shyly. Unable to be anything other than honest with this man, she said quietly, barely above a whisper, "I have missed you. You will never know how much for there are no words for it." Turning red in the face at such an admission, she quickly turned her head away and replaced her veil. "I know I am not the usual Free Woman and find myself once more behaving out of place. Please excuse the slip ups, but I had no one to show me the ways of the Gorean Free. They only asked me to write and write and write. That is what I did."
She stared down at the graceful lines of her hands and manicured fingernails. Regaining her confidence, she turned her brilliant eyes back to him. "I cannot thank you enough for letting me bend your ear with my sorrows. I am not usually in such a state as the one you found me in. I am still a lioness at heart but even a lioness cries."
Standing, she bends to straighten her skirt that has gotten snagged on a twig. The ends of her long red hair brush against his hand. As she bends, she loses her balance in the shoes she has yet to grow accustomed to wearing and lands on her knees, her head level with his lap. Not immediately rising to her feet, she looks up into his face . . .
He stood there for a second, shocked at what he was seeing. She made it seem like she had lost her balance and fell to her knees but with grace that he knew better. He did not go to help her up, he was used to to having woman at his feet. It was Gor after all.
She sat there, on her knees with big green eyes looking up at him misty with thoughts on the Priest Kings could understand - and Adam could not help but wonder if even the Gods of Gor could understand the mind of a woman.
He reached out and put a strong hand on her shoulder..."Think carefully my Rhayn, of what you wish to do and say." He did not remove his hand or offer to help her up but instead held her in place for a few seconds.
Looking off into the distance he simply sighed. "Of all the days to find an ex kajira. You know if you were sold at market I would have bought you. Or if you were serving in some tavern, I would have bought you." He removed his hand from her shoulder gently.
"Your a free woman now Lady, you have so much to offer the world. You are smart, intelligent, understanding...something about you makes my old hardened heart beat a little lighter." He continued, a little softer now but with a voice still filled with steel. "Any man would gladly have you as a free companion or slave, but think and speak truly Rhayn. You know what a slaves life is. I have changed over time Rhayn. I'm not the simple easy going Master I was, true their is still that part in me."
He smiled weakly. "But times have changed, I've been hardened by life Dear Lady. If you submit, you will feel the lash more. You will be used hard and more often. It will not be an easy life girl."
Finally he stopped and looked down, staring into the deep green orb's he knew so well. He had his answer, her heart betrayed her. He reached into his pouch and found what he wanted.
"Speak well Lady."
Realizing the position she fell into and what must be going through the mind of this Man, she quickly righted herself and stood facing him. Giggling softly she replied, "I can only imagine what you must have thought just now, kind sir. I can almost paint the picture for you. Your kajira, Rhayn, once again on her knees before you, legs spread in nadu, palms up, beckoning to you. Sheer silks upon her breasts, which are perky and begging for your attention." Walking behind him, her skirts swishing softly in the foliage, she trailed a fingernail across his shoulder, tracing a sweet circle as she walked around his body, the smell of jasmine following her and her soft voice barely above a whisper as she spoke only for him. "You may have grown ornery with age, sweet, sweet Adam. But, you are still a Man, Gorean or nay. If I were to be once more your kajira, I would see to your pleasure and not consider it being used. You cannot use someone who receives pleasure from it as well. Though, you my try and try and try. I would put up no protest . . . ." . . . stepping away from him as she spoke, she tilted her head and looked up at him from underneath her long, thick lashes, ". . . .IF I were your kajira."
She grinned, eyes twinkling with merriment. She enjoyed teasing him and letting him know that she too remembered their long nights.
"But, I digress, kajira I am not. For now, I must simply be content to enjoy that look that is upon your face . . ."
She turned slowly to face away from him, letting her eyes be the last to leave his vision. Her hair hang low, falling just above her ample backside. Taking a few steps, she purposely allowed her hips to sway hoping that he was watching her movement. Reaching for a nearby tree with one hand, she turned her head once more to look at him over her shoulder, the smile reaching up to her eyes as once again, they shone with laughter.
Placing a graceful hand in the middle of her chest, just below her neck she asks, "Besides, how do you not know that if "I" were your kajira, I would not once again bring laughter to your world. I seem to recall being able to make your grey days shine as if it were the middle of summer in the Tahari. How do you know that a kajira such as I once was would not be exactly what the physician ordered to keep a Gorean male young?"
Turning once more to face him, she leaned back against the tree, resting her bottom against her hands.
"So that's the way she wished to play it." He thought to himself. "Very well then Lady," he said to her taking a few steps towards her, putting himself between her and the road. She was the same old Rhayn, time had not changed her.
He leaned in quietly, till he was but inches frome her face, he could smell the jasmine perfume and how it overpowered him with desire and need. But she was a Gorean Free Woman and a worthy adversary on any world or at any time. He would have to be careful, and how he had missed this verbal sparing with her!
He pulled his hands out of his pockets and offered her a piece of candy before popping one into his own mouth, sucking on it gently. He pressed his hands to either side of her, feeling the rough bark of the trees under his hands. He looked down into the woman's face and felt her eyes burn into him, it was a warm glowing feeling the melted his heart but he would not allow her that satisfaction.
"Oh you were once my kajira dear Rhayn, and you know very well that you may be at my knees again. Or another's. There are those that do not know when your being serious, and where your being...well, you."
He continued, inches away from her face, wanting so much to pull the veil off her face and kiss the woman he once knew, the girl he once owed. "Your much to beautiful to be free. Your to smart to fall into traps that men lay when they desire you. You will be taken, probably by force dear lady."
He started to raise he hand towards her face only to pull it up and have it land on his chest. "Woman such of you are a rarity, and make the best slaves. They know themselves, they know others...and they know what their heart wants."
"Tell me Lady," he continued, looking into her green sparkling eyes, "are you truly happy being free? Were you happier on your knees?"
He placed his hand back above her shoulder on the other side of her head. Something deep inside of him said in a voice of steel "Woman like you are built to be owned. Men like me to own." He smiled a sly smile, "But we are not the people we once were are we dear Lady?"
His hands dropped to his side and he took a step back. His voice softened but his eyes never dropped from her face. "Dear Lady Rhayn, my Rhayn...once my kajira, a kajira of the heart. You wear a collar heavier then any chain, you wear your collar on your heart."
Taking three steps away from him and dropping a piece of cloth to the ground, giving it a stomp and grind into the dirt for good measure, she turns to face him once more, her face uncovered. Locking her eyes with his, she reaches behind her head and releases the clasp holding her hair back. She shakes her head slightly as her hair falls around her face in soft red waves. As the curls settle around her waist and over her shoulders, she licks her lips, making them glisten in the sun shining through the trees. "I am kajira Adam. Whether I wear silks, camisk, or gown. Are you Master?"
Looking him in the eye, she smirked and gave him a "come hither" grin. "Can one such as you even control a kajira such as I anymore? I think you may find that I am no longer the meek and mild lil’ one of old. In fact, the fire in my blood is much hotter and the bite of me teeth much harder." Sauntering seductively back towards him, licking luscious lips she stopped just out of reach and teased his vision with her entire body, letting him know she was no "girl". In fact, she had grown quite fully into a woman made for pleasure. Her breasts were more than ample and strained against the material of most dresses created for the flat chested Free Women she had seen. Her skin was soft and had a soft paleness that was exotic for Gor. Lush long red hair that teased and tantalized when she wanted it to. Long legs that were meant to wrap around the waist of a man. Beautiful red curls that matched the hair on her head that were designed to intrigue and entice. A flat stomach and soft hips just begging to cradle a man’s body. Hands soft and created solely to massage and stroke, be it skin or ego. SHE had come into her own and she knew it. She reveled in it.
He sighed and turned. She was right, he was old and tired and not up to the battle ahead. She was a young vibrant woman who suddenly surpassed the slave he had once knew. He stood there, mouth agape as she slithered....no that was to harsh and to primitive of a term. She moved with a grace and power that rivaled any sleen, she moved as a slave girl moved, only with more power and confidence and desire than he had seen any girl move before.
He shook his head and could only whisper "careful lady, such language will earn you a collar." But he knew it would not be his. She had, in a simple glance, melted his hard heart, and that it would be him that would wear her collar. That would never do, for a Gorean kajira was owned completely by her Master, not the other way around. Girls often ended up sold for trying to bend their Masters to their will.
Reaching up he took her face in his hands, pulled her close and stared into her deep eyes. Wishing and hoping he was putting on a brave face, a stern face. A face of a Gorean Master who knows what he wants and takes it, not the scared little boy that he was at at moment.
He kissed her again, drowning in the ruby lips of the kajira. Tasting her, feeling her as she melted into him. He shook and felt his heart skip a beat. Right then he knew what was missing. It was Her! It always had been.
Free or slave, it didn't matter.
He released her from the kiss, only to grab her long red hair and pull it back forcing her head up and back. She gasped but before she could protest he kissed her again, feeling her body meld to his. He swore in his mind at his weakness for a mere woman.
Than again, Rhayn was never a mere women. She was an extra ordinary woman, when she was a slave she was outstanding.
"I was a fool to ever let you go Rhayn!" He cried. Then felt the tears start to flow down his cheeks as he held her, feeling the years flow off him. He felt young again.
He pulled her to the tree and grasped her hands in his...pulling them above her head to pin them there. He forced another kiss from her lips and felt something grow deep inside of him...primitive and ancient. Need. Lust. Desire.
He wanted her. He wanted her badly.
His lips pushed into her mouth again and he tasted her again. He said her name, not sure if it was her free name or slave name. Not sure if she was slave or free or even if she knew anymore.
"All that matters," he thought aloud, "is this place. This time, your lips pressed against mine. Your heart beating in time with mine." He moaned. If she was slave he would rape her. If she was free, then such desire would never do. He wanted her as slave. He wanted her as his slave.
Breathing deeply to calm her racing heart, she reached up and wiped the tears from his face.. In a soft voice she replied, "Adam, your kisses brand me more than the heated irons ever did. You have always been my reason . . .always. You forever will be." "You say you were a fool to ever let me go . . .I was a fool to freely walk away. You must have known that I didn’t want to go and that my heart did not follow. I was a good kajira to the other, but never a ‘true’ kajira for he never owned my heart. You have been the only one with its possession . . .and to truly possess me. Your collar on me was like home . . .where I belonged."
Pressing her body against him she whispered, " . . . where I still belong." Slipping her fingers inside the buttons of his shirt, she toyed with the hair on his chest. "I am so lost without you . . ."
Suddenly regaining her common sense, she stepped away from him with her back to him and fanning herself with one hand, she reaches behind her and holds her hair up off the back of her neck . . .the tan lines of her collar faded, but still visible, she grins and says. "Your kisses are still scorching and you have truly turned my thoughts into pleasures I have not taken in quite some time. Pleasures that you taught me. You turned me into an exceptional red silk, if memory serves me correctly. And oh . .. .how pleasing those lessons were." "Makes me think returning to a collar may not be so bad". She giggled again, the sound carrying to his ears. Releasing her hair and letting it fall once more down her back in long curls she turned to him and smiled evilly. "Only, one will have to catch me to collar me and I am not so easily trapped. I have become slippery in my maturity and very cunning. In fact, you may just be stepping into a trap I have set myself."
With a very haughty look on her face and the elegant stance of a confident Free Woman she says, "Tell me, Adam, what would you do with me, if I were kajira? Would you keep me caged and naked?" "Or even bound and gagged for my sharp tongue?" "Or, would you allow that tongue to glide over your body, inch by inch, and drive you to a fever pitch?"
She stood facing him, her soft eyes filled with desire for him, and only him.. Her face a sensual beckoning to him to claim her and make her his again. Her body all warm and wet in places he could not see. She longed to touch him, to taste his skin and to have him buried deep within her. Her Adam. Her Master. But, she was no longer kajira and would have to do with temptation.. And she was VERY good at temptation.
Never taking her eyes from him, she let that very tongue she teased him about come out of her mouth slowly to trace her upper lip issuing the challenge to him.
"Would you let these hands glide over your skin, massaging and kneading your sore and tired muscles or would you keep them in shackles behind my back?"
Touching a tender hand to her bare neck "Would you strangle this neck or keep it tightly to you with a leash?"
Throwing the gauntlet once more she replies, "and what is a kajira such as I would be worth to you? What would you be willing to do to once more have me on my knees at your boot?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, accentuating the valley between her breasts, she looks him straight in the eye as she awaits his responses, hoping beyond all hope, he wants her, if just a little bit. Her desire for this man is overwhelming and she would have let him take her right there against the tree just moments ago. If he hadn’t stopped kissing her, she would not have stopped him. She could not have even if she had wanted to. And what scared her, was that she didn’t want to stop him. She wanted him just as badly. She remembered all too well the feel of him within her heated body, his hands against her breasts, his mouth suckling her . . .
She felt flushed again and turned her thoughts to paying attention to him and listening to his answers to her challenge.
At that moment he knew the true heart of the woman in front of him. Time had changed them both, he had grown harder and colder and knew that deep down his heart was trying to warm the ice that and enveloped him. She had however, grown from the sassy and funny slave into a brass and independent free woman, but underneath the heavy cloth beat the heart of a kajira.
He had owned her once, and now, she stood their once again. He smiled, trying to hide the tears in his own eyes. His dear Rhayn had returned. The slave that she was had asked him a question, the Free Woman...no, the woman that she was demanded an answer. A truthful one, she would have no others.
He looked about and found a stump, then sat down on it. He turned and faced the woman.
"You ask me what I would do if you were kajira?" He smiled, his eyes dancing with mirth. He took off his belt, doubling it and smoothing it out.
"First my Lady Rhayn, would be the loss of your name. For only the Free have a name. I've always been partial to the name Rhayn, so I think that you may keep that as a slave. Of course though, it can be changed at any time. How does Val sound to you?"
He didn't wait for an answer but continued. "Would you be beaten? Once in the beginning. I know that you felt the whip once and did all you could to avoid it. As do most." "But," he winked at her "it has been a long time since you were naked and on the cross."
"Would you be kept naked and in a cage?" The image flashed through his mind and caused some involuntary reactions deep inside him. "Only if it pleased me, remember dear Lady that a slave has no rights, no recourse....for she, he looked at her to gauge her reaction...is an animal." He continued, "And animals belong in cages sometimes don't you agree?"
Again he continued, not waiting for her answer, for he thought he knew it already. "A slave is an animal because they are trained to please. With words, deeds and actions. Your tongue may be sharp, but only because your mind is as well. What fool wishes to have a dullard as a pet?" "The sharper the mind of the animal, the better the training, the better the service. The more the girl understands her heart."
He stared into her deep green eyes, that never wavered from his as he spoke. She stood their proud and lovely. She stood as a free woman stands. She stood as a slave stands. "Such a work of art a woman is," he thought, "so much confusion, so much emotion, so much pride and confidence and love bundled and jumbled up inside."
"You would serve me dinner and wine. You would serve me on the furs beside my bed on the long cool nights, your body betraying your true soul as I run my fingers and tongue over it."
He watched the slight involuntary shudder go through her as the memory of her nights as kajira flooded through her. "You simply have no choice. You would be kajira. Property. Animal. Beloved."
Now was the time to gamble.
"Although to be honest Lady," he sighed, "I am not sure if I am Master enough. I tend to love the slaves I own. So much so that sometimes I think it is I that wear the collar and not them."
"You asked if I would leash you. Oh yes, for one such as you are a prize, and I'm afraid you would be stolen out from beneath me. But to strangle you?" His mind flashed back to an incident where he nearly drowned a girl for daring to speak his name, his head dropping to stare at the ground for a moment.
"If you were to do something to deserve such treatment. Yes, but such a well trained and lovely slave as you once were would never meet such a horrid end would you?"
He looked back into her eyes, searching them for something he knew long ago and waited. She started to speak and he listened to her heart and mind and soul, lost in the music.
"Need it, nay. Want it? Perhaps." Grinning she walked to once more sit beside him on the stump, her bottom pressed next to his and her hair tickling the skin on his arm resting upon his leg. "Not so much as a punishment though, dear Adam, but more as my security blanket. Being alone has taught me so much and I know that underneath it all, I am kajira. Even if I were to Free Companion with a male, I would be kajira behind closed doors. It is who and what I am."
Picking up the beautiful cobalt blue material that was one of her best gowns and fingering its soft silk, she looked down thinking of all she would give up to once more be a true kajira. The freedom to make choices for herself, the freedom to go where she wanted and to look people in the face. The respect she was shown . . .all of it meant a little something special to her but none of it meant to her what being a kajira did. To be kajira was to be true to herself. To be kajira was to be who she was meant to be. But, could she do it again? Could she remember all the things she once knew as life? Would it be natural for her once more? She didn’t know and the not knowing is what scared her the most. And, would she be owned by someone who would be patient with her and give her time to remember or would she fall to one who was abusive, as she had seen some Masters could be. Was the risk worth it? Was she worth it?
Realizing she had grown quiet and introspective, she cleared her throat and smiled once more at this amazing Man who had given her so much. "You know . . .", she started leaning in and giving his shoulder a nudge with her own trying to turn her mood playful once more, ". . . you keep trying to be so serious with me, but I see right through you. I know that our meeting was as much as a surprise to you as it was to me and the fact that I still feel so owned by you. And, I also know that you, in your heart, still feel as though you are my Master and have every right to me. And that you want me just as badly as I want you and I am not ashamed of that. I see the strain on you where you are holding yourself back and I can feel so much from you. Why? I knew you very well once, Adam. Perhaps better than you knew yourself. Have you changed so much that you have forgotten who and what you are?"
Turning her face to his, compassion bright in her eyes. "I have not forgotten and if it were possible, I would remind you daily. You are Master to a kajira and you are everything in the world to someone. You are adored by that kajira." Taking the belt from his hands and letting it fall to the dirt, she turns and kneels before him, raising up on her knees so that her face is level with his and places his hands around her waist . . . "And by one who is free. You are larger than life and life to a girl who would die for you, and one who dies each day without you." Drawing her hands up under his chin, she urges him softly to lift his head and look at her.. "I cannot bear to see you like this, so serious and sad. I feel compelled to do all in my power to bring the joy back to you." Leaning in, she placed her lips softly on his, offering a tender, slow kiss full of longing and love.
Even without a collar on her neck, she loved this Man and always would. She knew she was not behaving as a woman of her station should but she could not bring herself to stop and let this moment pass. If a few stolen kisses were all she would have of him to hold on to, she would be satisfied. Not happy, but content. If this was the last chance she would have with him, then so be it. She would not leave him with that serious consternation on his face if she could help it. She would make him smile if it killed her, and it just might. For what she was doing right this moment was punishable, even for a Free and she knew it. But she didn’t care. He was here with her now and she knew she must take what she could from this moment..
Breaking the kiss, she pulled her face only an inch from his, looking down at him through thick lashes, her eyes glazed. Their mouths were still so close, she could feel the breath from his lips and she waited with anticipation, the invitation in her face. Would he take it or would he throw her away, disgusted by her brazen and wanton actions? Or would he consider this the act of a desperate woman? Desperate she was not!
Giving herself a mental slap on the head she thought to herself "Rhayn, you idiot, you never think things through. You should know by now not to let your heart lead you.".
Rising so quickly to her feet that she nearly knocked him off the stump, she stepped quickly to where her trampled veil lay, picking it up and shaking if off, trying to smooth the material. With her back to him, she said, "Adam, I beg pardon of you for my behavior just now.. I do not know what came over me. Memories, perhaps. But please, forgive me."
Turning only slightly to face him, she once more lifted the veil to her face, her eyes suddenly saddened. "I fear I have put you in an uncomfortable position and for that I shall never forgive myself." She reached up and latched the veil on her left side, the right still loose. She began stammering and notice that her hand was shaking. Taking in a slightly scared breath, she looked to him.
He sat there and listened to the words unfurl from her lovely mouth. They spoke volumes to him and he stood as if in a dream and watched himself move to her. Forgetting about the poison pins that are sometimes hidden in a woman's veil and dress to teach foolish men a lesson, he watched his body from afar take the girls veil in hand. He ripped it off her, then pulled her head close to his lips and kissed her. It was the kiss that a Master gives a slave girl to claim her as his own. He watched her body melt and he knew her emotions. He watched them flood into her.
Then as if in a dream, he let the girl loose. "Forgive you," the voice he recognized as his own spoke, "their is nothing to forgive."
Somewhere far off their was a snap and instantly he turned towards it, breaking the mood and bringing his mind back to his body. "You spoke your heart dear Lady." He realized that he still had the veil in his hand but made no effort to give it back to her, the fabric felt good in his hands and he could taste her flavor on her lips.
He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs and turned, walking a few feet from her he sat upon the log again. His eyes narrowed as he sat there, weighing the next sentence he was going to say carefully. It would be her choice, it would be her option, that much - and only that - he would give her. "How many times has she practically begged to be collared?" he thought.
His mind reeled and then he looked at her with steely eyes as blue as the ice on the far northern sea.
"Kajira you are, you have said so yourself. You stand there and retreat from what you know you must do, what you wish to do! But I will give you the option Free Woman."
He picked up the folded belt from on the ground and pulled a strap of binding fiber out of his pack, laying them both across his knee.
"You can walk away from me Lady Rhayn, and if we ever met again I will not speak of this. You are a scribe and respected and I'm sure loved by those that know you. Your freedom is a gift. I will not let your foolish womanly pride spoil it because you wish to play a game."
He looked at her, his eyes softened and he spoke to her softly now. "Rhayn, you may submit before me and say the words 'la kajira.' I will bind your hands and the woman you once were is gone. Only the slave you are will remain."
"But," he stated with force, "know this. The kajira will be all that remains. Your freedom will stay with the lovely dress here in this spot. So that only the trees and birds will know what occurred here."
He leaned down and brushed a section of the ground, removing any pebbles or twigs from the area in front of him. It was just big enough for her to kneel down in and he was sure that she knew that.
He sat back and waited, watching the Free Woman and slave. His friend and his property. He knew he would watch and wait for eternity if needed. Till even the mighty Sardar mountains crumbled into the sea.
Off in the distance a bird took flight, a cricket chirped. All the world stopped and waited.
As she watched him walk away from her, still carrying her veil, she knew this was a moment that would change her life forever. He offered her the safety of a collar. His collar. Not just the safety it would provide, but the love that she knew went with it. She had always been his and here was the opportunity to once more be a beloved to this Man, this wonderful Man. But, to take it would be to give up everything she had become.
Standing before him, watching his every movement, her mind raced and soared. She was elated, yet terrified. Not of him, but of disappointing him. If she did this, if she submitted to him and became his kajira, she would have to remember all of his likes and dislike or risk the whip.. The memory of her branding flashed through her mind and the terror of that day caused her to gasp aloud.
But then he was so kindly clearing a space on the ground for her . . .showing her that he wanted her submission. He wanted Her . . .the kajira who had been abandoned, the scribe that hated being Free, even the hothead little minx she was inside. He wanted it all for himself and she wanted him, above all others, to have it.
Stepping forward, one slow step at a time, she stood in the clear patch he had created just for her. Looking deep into his ice blue eyes, her sparkling like emeralds, she stood. Just stood. Thinking, weighing her choices very carefully. Then, with resolve set on her face and her features soft with understanding and commitment, she leaned towards his face, kissing him softly once more as a Free Woman. Her tongue teasing his lips until his mouth accepted her kiss. Her hands caressing the sides of his face. Her jasmine scent wrapping around both of them. She told him with her mouth what he already knew to be true. She was His. He owned her once more. He possessed every fiber of who and what she was.
Breaking the kiss slowly, she un-zipped the dress and let the voluminous material slide down her body ever so slowly and fall to the forest floor. As each inch of her skin was exposed for his eyes, and his eyes only, she felt more than saw the shudder run through him.
She removed the bindings around her chest exposing her lush breasts to his gaze. Her nipples were hardened and bespoke her excitement. Thrust forward as they were, perky and tempting, they begged him to draw those nipples into his mouth until she was screaming from ecstacy.
She slid the soft silken panties off her body revealing the patch of red curls that glistened with the sign of her arousal from his kisses. Stepping out of them, she lay them down beside the gown of the scribe she had been.. Her body was on fire for this Man and she felt no shame in being before him in this manner and for his perusal, the sweet scent of her desire for him in the air between them.
She stood before him, naked and open. Her body showing all the signs of her submission before the words were ever spoken. She wanted this and she wanted to belong to him. She wanted, nay, needed, his collar on her.
Sinking silently to her knees before him, spreading her legs wide, she raised her arms above her head, crossed her wrists in complete and total submission and spoke the words that would bind them. "La Kajira."
Looking up at him, lifting her chin, she awaited the one thing that would make her whole once more . . .her Master’s collar around her neck.
She was his Kajira now and loved the feeling of that ownership. She knew the road ahead would be long and hard, but she loved a challenge. And she loved him. Protector. Lover. Friend. MASTER..
His heart stopped, he knew she would submit to him, but somehow he never expected her to actually say the words. Now she had, it was over. He had won. "No," he thought, "she had won, she had everything she once had and wanted again."
He stood and picked up the binding twine and slipped it around her wrists, tightening them with a slight pull. Then he touched her neck and traced a collar with a single finger, "Soon enough we will have a real one about your neck."
"The belt would serve for now." he told her in a voice he hoped was not quavering, and slipped it around her neck. Thank the Priest Kings her face was bowed although he knew she was smiling despite herself.
He tugged it, bringing her to her feet. He wanted to kiss her, to take her again and love her small agile frame. But that could wait, he had waited this long...he chuckled...they had waited this long.
She stood there, naked and enslaved and beautiful. Owned.
"Your sister is going to love you. Let's go home kajira." And with a smile he pinned the veil back on her face, looking into bright moist green eyes.
"Yes Master." she nearly sung.
A slight tug got her moving in the direction of home leaving a blue dress behind.
Please understand that some of the names metioned are based upon are past history, using a program called Second Life, and really don't play into the story that much.
A kajira comes home.
Walking along a quiet path, a girl hidden in the blue gowns and veils of a scribe, cries silent tears . . .lonely and lost. She was once a very valuable commodity, highly loved and desired. Now, alone, she is nothing but Free. But, Free to do and be what? She is slave at heart and that slave heart is lost and feels heavy buried beneath all of that clothing.
Somewhere on this same path walks a Master planning for a new role in life as a merchant, having given up the medical field for a quieter life on Gor. He hears the rustle of skirts and knows it is not safe for a woman alone in Gor. He follows his ears and looks upon the back of a Free Woman. She turns as she hears someone approach and the two lock eyes. Her green eyes were unforgettable and flashed like emeralds.
She could barely breath as she looked upon the face of the Man who trained her and loved her. Her Master. Her reason for living, once upon a time. Although her face was mostly covered by a veil, her eyes spoke volumes. Tears swam at the edges of her lashes.
He called her name . . .just the one word, "Rhayn". She stepped into his arms, trembling. As his arms wrapped gently around her, the tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks.
He caught her in his arms, her body trembling and shaking like a Tur leaf in a thunderstorm. He did not know her problems, her troubles or why she cried so, but he held her and found that memories flooded in. Of long nights in front of the fire, of dinners and dancing and stories...memories that he thought he lost. They came back to him so vivid that he thought he needed to brush them them from his eyes.
His hand rose up and he found that he to was crying, shaking. He held the girl and straightened. Looking into her mane of dark hair, he whispered in her ear "I have missed you to Rhayn, my kajira."
Quickly he gasped and held her at arms length, she was no longer a mere slave to do with what he would. She was a free woman, proud and strong! He could do nothing but give her the respect that she deserved.
"Tal, Free woman....Tal, Lady Rhayn." He said quietly. "Although I am happy, well very happy to see you again I will admit this is not quiet the greeting I was expecting." He lowered his head and asked for forgiveness in his slip of the tongue.
He smiled and whipped his brow on his sleeve. He quickly bowed, taking a gloved hand in his own and imparted a single kiss. "A pleasure to see you again my sweet Lady."
Quickly he scanned over her, she was the same old Rhayn. Fire in her devilish green eyes and a bit of unkempt red hair in an other wise stylish hairdo. He could not help but wonder if her body was still curvy and supple under the dress of a free woman. He thought back for a second, thinking of how is glowed in the firelight.
She wore the color blue, which from the high quality of the fabric meant that she was successful as a scribe. He was glad of that fact. He wished he nothing but success and his heart was lightened by her obtaining it.
Still though the girl...no, the Lady, cried before him.
Although it was not common to show a lady affection in public, he placed his strong arms around her and started to pull her into his chest. "Please my lady, do not cry so!" He continued, "These are not tears of joy upon seeing an old friend are they Lady Rhayn?"
Shaking her head sadly, she replied, "Although it is a blessing of the Priest Kings to see you again, I fear the tears are not of joy." Looking over her veil into his blue eyes that shone like sapphire she said in a quiet voice, "I cry because I have lost who I am and cannot seem to locate the girl. I cry because I find myself alone, always alone. I cry, because seeing all this fabric upon my body makes me feel so trapped."
She flicks the veil covering the lovely features of her face with an annoyed flick of her wrist . . . " . . .and this infernal thing. . . .But, I have learned a Lady does not speak thus. I beg forgiveness of you my friend and hope you will excuse my behavior". Turning imploring eyes to the Man who was her teacher, her trainer, her Master . . . "do you even recognize the kajira I once was? Do you still see her in me? I miss her. She . . .I . . feel so lost. It is my heart to serve, yet I have none that want me to do so. It is my joy to see pride on the face of one such as yourself, yet I was abandoned. Tell me, as I am not from Gor, do Master's that are proud of their kajira abandon them and leave them to rot alone?" She sniffs as a fresh flood of tears begins, yet this is anger and shame, not sadness. "I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and do not feel as though you did such . . . it was Serapis. My only recourse was to become city slave and you know that the thought of such was deplorable to me. I chose the veil over a city collar and now . . now I have only words to serve and that is not fulfilling."
Turning her back so that he does not see her weakness she asks, "what am I to do and who will ever love a FW who only knows how to be a kajira? And, how can I be a kajira when I have been . . .this?"
Although she knows it is against protocol, she lowers her veil as she turns once more to face him, her lower lip trembling from the efforts of keeping her emotions in check . . .
He stood their taken aback by her words, her lovely face - something he had always enjoyed staring at - looked at him. Despite the tears that rolled down her cheeks and the trembling lip he did see the kajira she once was. The seductive little vixen, the playful little girl, the strong minded woman. Again he was taken aback by all woman are and are capable of, yet they sometimes choose slavery over freedom. He shook his head, knowing he would never understand the mind or the heart of the opposite sex.
He reached out tenderly, touching her cheek. "Lady Rhayn," he spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper, "I do miss and the kajira you once were. I still see it in you. How many nights did we have together? How much laughter? Owning you was a joy, despite your best efforts to not make it so." A slight smile crossed his lips.
Continuing on he said, "Those days are gone now. You are a Free Woman." He sighed but did not let go of her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, pressing against her lips and tasting her. Memories again flooded through him, and something primal began to stir.
"No." he thought. "This is wrong but why does it feel so right." He released the woman in front of him and took a step back."
"Lady Rhayn, forgive me." He smiled and bowed slightly. "Your beauty drove me to the kiss." He laughed then, from the heart. "Ah I do understand how one such as you became successful! Serapis was a fool!"
Turning he walked away one or two steps and then turned facing her. "As was I for ever letting you go." He continued, "The heart wants what it wants dear lady. But their is so much history between us, so much time. Even if you are missing the collar, their is no promise it will be what it once was. I've grown older Lady Rhayn, meaner and ornerier. Gor is not what it once was, nor am I."
He sat down on a nearby stump and looked at her. This woman that was once slave, who always spoke from the heart. "I seek not Free Companions or slaves. I seek only peace."
She lifted her skirts slightly from the thigh, pulling the hem of the skirt up enough that she could move her feet freely. She walked softly, closing the space between them and looked down at this marvelous man that her heart still ached for. The stolen kiss had warmed her in ways she had forgotten were possible. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she reached out and caressed the cheek of the man she knew so well. "Mast . . .Adam, you have always been such a good man. You treated me as if I was more than just some wretch. You were patient with me as I learned. You were so giving with me when I became red silk. You have been such a wonderful friend to me. I seek no Free Companion now either. I am not whole enough inside to be such. I do not know that a collar could save me either. I do seek peace as well."
She trailed her soft thumb across his lips and smiles softly, "And please do not apologize for kissing me for it will never be something I would regret."
Releasing the warmth of his cheek, she sits on the stump beside him, skirts billowing out around her, her long hair falling across her shoulder as she bends. She begins to toy with the ends of her hair to give her hands something to do, she looks at him, tilts her head slightly to the right and grins. "I have been so distraught that it appears I have forgotten my manners. Please sir, tell me how your life has been since we parted."
Leaning back and resting on the stump with her hands behind her propping her up, she does not realize that she looks like an offering to the Man with her chest thrust upward and her face smiling up at him . . .
He laughed a quiet laugh, quiet and light. He had missed her and sitting on the stump next to her had reminded him of that, as had the kiss. He brushed his hand through thick black hair and then scratched his little beard. It had been several days since he had shaved, when he was a doctor he had shaved nearly every day as was required by his caste. Now that he was a merchant...it mattered little.
"Where to begin sweet Rhayn?" Then without prompting he began, talking about the adventures he had...the pain. He had regrettably left the Oasis of Nine Wells after a plague had started that killed most of the citizens of the fair city. How he and his current kajira Kitten wandered Gor, barely surviving...how he had considered selling the girl but in the end she had stayed with him, till at last they reached family and were offered shelter in the city of Port Olni. How he considered taking a position in the Physician's office there but how he had time to think during his long journey.
"Today," He grinned, "I am a simple wine merchant. I've seen to much death Rhayn, to much." He looked down at his feet then, saddened by seeing a city die before him and unable to help, to do anything.
Feeling his pain as if it were her own, she reached out and held his hand between the softness of her own. "Adam, I know you did all that you could to save Nine Wells. Do not fret so, Sir, for none could or would have done more for the city. Kitten is lucky to have you for a Master, never doubt that either. I have heard much of Olni and honestly, the town frightens me a bit but I am so happy to hear that you have found a life that makes you happy. You are happy, are you not? I could not bear it if you were not."
Being so close to him again had her pulse racing. She felt as if her heartbeat could be heard throughout Gor for she could certainly hear it loud and clear. She had to concentrate on controlling her breathing so that he did not realize how his closeness to her effected her. Yet, she could not bear the thought of not being right where she was right now. With Adam. With her Master, if only in her memories. He said he sought not another kajira, but if one were offered to him, what would he do? What would he say? Could she ever be a cherished kajira again? Had she forgotten everything? Would he ever want her again, as he once had?
Realizing she had grown very quiet as her mind raced with questions she could never answer for herself, she cleared her throat and smiled shyly. Unable to be anything other than honest with this man, she said quietly, barely above a whisper, "I have missed you. You will never know how much for there are no words for it." Turning red in the face at such an admission, she quickly turned her head away and replaced her veil. "I know I am not the usual Free Woman and find myself once more behaving out of place. Please excuse the slip ups, but I had no one to show me the ways of the Gorean Free. They only asked me to write and write and write. That is what I did."
She stared down at the graceful lines of her hands and manicured fingernails. Regaining her confidence, she turned her brilliant eyes back to him. "I cannot thank you enough for letting me bend your ear with my sorrows. I am not usually in such a state as the one you found me in. I am still a lioness at heart but even a lioness cries."
Standing, she bends to straighten her skirt that has gotten snagged on a twig. The ends of her long red hair brush against his hand. As she bends, she loses her balance in the shoes she has yet to grow accustomed to wearing and lands on her knees, her head level with his lap. Not immediately rising to her feet, she looks up into his face . . .
He stood there for a second, shocked at what he was seeing. She made it seem like she had lost her balance and fell to her knees but with grace that he knew better. He did not go to help her up, he was used to to having woman at his feet. It was Gor after all.
She sat there, on her knees with big green eyes looking up at him misty with thoughts on the Priest Kings could understand - and Adam could not help but wonder if even the Gods of Gor could understand the mind of a woman.
He reached out and put a strong hand on her shoulder..."Think carefully my Rhayn, of what you wish to do and say." He did not remove his hand or offer to help her up but instead held her in place for a few seconds.
Looking off into the distance he simply sighed. "Of all the days to find an ex kajira. You know if you were sold at market I would have bought you. Or if you were serving in some tavern, I would have bought you." He removed his hand from her shoulder gently.
"Your a free woman now Lady, you have so much to offer the world. You are smart, intelligent, understanding...something about you makes my old hardened heart beat a little lighter." He continued, a little softer now but with a voice still filled with steel. "Any man would gladly have you as a free companion or slave, but think and speak truly Rhayn. You know what a slaves life is. I have changed over time Rhayn. I'm not the simple easy going Master I was, true their is still that part in me."
He smiled weakly. "But times have changed, I've been hardened by life Dear Lady. If you submit, you will feel the lash more. You will be used hard and more often. It will not be an easy life girl."
Finally he stopped and looked down, staring into the deep green orb's he knew so well. He had his answer, her heart betrayed her. He reached into his pouch and found what he wanted.
"Speak well Lady."
Realizing the position she fell into and what must be going through the mind of this Man, she quickly righted herself and stood facing him. Giggling softly she replied, "I can only imagine what you must have thought just now, kind sir. I can almost paint the picture for you. Your kajira, Rhayn, once again on her knees before you, legs spread in nadu, palms up, beckoning to you. Sheer silks upon her breasts, which are perky and begging for your attention." Walking behind him, her skirts swishing softly in the foliage, she trailed a fingernail across his shoulder, tracing a sweet circle as she walked around his body, the smell of jasmine following her and her soft voice barely above a whisper as she spoke only for him. "You may have grown ornery with age, sweet, sweet Adam. But, you are still a Man, Gorean or nay. If I were to be once more your kajira, I would see to your pleasure and not consider it being used. You cannot use someone who receives pleasure from it as well. Though, you my try and try and try. I would put up no protest . . . ." . . . stepping away from him as she spoke, she tilted her head and looked up at him from underneath her long, thick lashes, ". . . .IF I were your kajira."
She grinned, eyes twinkling with merriment. She enjoyed teasing him and letting him know that she too remembered their long nights.
"But, I digress, kajira I am not. For now, I must simply be content to enjoy that look that is upon your face . . ."
She turned slowly to face away from him, letting her eyes be the last to leave his vision. Her hair hang low, falling just above her ample backside. Taking a few steps, she purposely allowed her hips to sway hoping that he was watching her movement. Reaching for a nearby tree with one hand, she turned her head once more to look at him over her shoulder, the smile reaching up to her eyes as once again, they shone with laughter.
Placing a graceful hand in the middle of her chest, just below her neck she asks, "Besides, how do you not know that if "I" were your kajira, I would not once again bring laughter to your world. I seem to recall being able to make your grey days shine as if it were the middle of summer in the Tahari. How do you know that a kajira such as I once was would not be exactly what the physician ordered to keep a Gorean male young?"
Turning once more to face him, she leaned back against the tree, resting her bottom against her hands.
"So that's the way she wished to play it." He thought to himself. "Very well then Lady," he said to her taking a few steps towards her, putting himself between her and the road. She was the same old Rhayn, time had not changed her.
He leaned in quietly, till he was but inches frome her face, he could smell the jasmine perfume and how it overpowered him with desire and need. But she was a Gorean Free Woman and a worthy adversary on any world or at any time. He would have to be careful, and how he had missed this verbal sparing with her!
He pulled his hands out of his pockets and offered her a piece of candy before popping one into his own mouth, sucking on it gently. He pressed his hands to either side of her, feeling the rough bark of the trees under his hands. He looked down into the woman's face and felt her eyes burn into him, it was a warm glowing feeling the melted his heart but he would not allow her that satisfaction.
"Oh you were once my kajira dear Rhayn, and you know very well that you may be at my knees again. Or another's. There are those that do not know when your being serious, and where your being...well, you."
He continued, inches away from her face, wanting so much to pull the veil off her face and kiss the woman he once knew, the girl he once owed. "Your much to beautiful to be free. Your to smart to fall into traps that men lay when they desire you. You will be taken, probably by force dear lady."
He started to raise he hand towards her face only to pull it up and have it land on his chest. "Woman such of you are a rarity, and make the best slaves. They know themselves, they know others...and they know what their heart wants."
"Tell me Lady," he continued, looking into her green sparkling eyes, "are you truly happy being free? Were you happier on your knees?"
He placed his hand back above her shoulder on the other side of her head. Something deep inside of him said in a voice of steel "Woman like you are built to be owned. Men like me to own." He smiled a sly smile, "But we are not the people we once were are we dear Lady?"
His hands dropped to his side and he took a step back. His voice softened but his eyes never dropped from her face. "Dear Lady Rhayn, my Rhayn...once my kajira, a kajira of the heart. You wear a collar heavier then any chain, you wear your collar on your heart."
Taking three steps away from him and dropping a piece of cloth to the ground, giving it a stomp and grind into the dirt for good measure, she turns to face him once more, her face uncovered. Locking her eyes with his, she reaches behind her head and releases the clasp holding her hair back. She shakes her head slightly as her hair falls around her face in soft red waves. As the curls settle around her waist and over her shoulders, she licks her lips, making them glisten in the sun shining through the trees. "I am kajira Adam. Whether I wear silks, camisk, or gown. Are you Master?"
Looking him in the eye, she smirked and gave him a "come hither" grin. "Can one such as you even control a kajira such as I anymore? I think you may find that I am no longer the meek and mild lil’ one of old. In fact, the fire in my blood is much hotter and the bite of me teeth much harder." Sauntering seductively back towards him, licking luscious lips she stopped just out of reach and teased his vision with her entire body, letting him know she was no "girl". In fact, she had grown quite fully into a woman made for pleasure. Her breasts were more than ample and strained against the material of most dresses created for the flat chested Free Women she had seen. Her skin was soft and had a soft paleness that was exotic for Gor. Lush long red hair that teased and tantalized when she wanted it to. Long legs that were meant to wrap around the waist of a man. Beautiful red curls that matched the hair on her head that were designed to intrigue and entice. A flat stomach and soft hips just begging to cradle a man’s body. Hands soft and created solely to massage and stroke, be it skin or ego. SHE had come into her own and she knew it. She reveled in it.
He sighed and turned. She was right, he was old and tired and not up to the battle ahead. She was a young vibrant woman who suddenly surpassed the slave he had once knew. He stood there, mouth agape as she slithered....no that was to harsh and to primitive of a term. She moved with a grace and power that rivaled any sleen, she moved as a slave girl moved, only with more power and confidence and desire than he had seen any girl move before.
He shook his head and could only whisper "careful lady, such language will earn you a collar." But he knew it would not be his. She had, in a simple glance, melted his hard heart, and that it would be him that would wear her collar. That would never do, for a Gorean kajira was owned completely by her Master, not the other way around. Girls often ended up sold for trying to bend their Masters to their will.
Reaching up he took her face in his hands, pulled her close and stared into her deep eyes. Wishing and hoping he was putting on a brave face, a stern face. A face of a Gorean Master who knows what he wants and takes it, not the scared little boy that he was at at moment.
He kissed her again, drowning in the ruby lips of the kajira. Tasting her, feeling her as she melted into him. He shook and felt his heart skip a beat. Right then he knew what was missing. It was Her! It always had been.
Free or slave, it didn't matter.
He released her from the kiss, only to grab her long red hair and pull it back forcing her head up and back. She gasped but before she could protest he kissed her again, feeling her body meld to his. He swore in his mind at his weakness for a mere woman.
Than again, Rhayn was never a mere women. She was an extra ordinary woman, when she was a slave she was outstanding.
"I was a fool to ever let you go Rhayn!" He cried. Then felt the tears start to flow down his cheeks as he held her, feeling the years flow off him. He felt young again.
He pulled her to the tree and grasped her hands in his...pulling them above her head to pin them there. He forced another kiss from her lips and felt something grow deep inside of him...primitive and ancient. Need. Lust. Desire.
He wanted her. He wanted her badly.
His lips pushed into her mouth again and he tasted her again. He said her name, not sure if it was her free name or slave name. Not sure if she was slave or free or even if she knew anymore.
"All that matters," he thought aloud, "is this place. This time, your lips pressed against mine. Your heart beating in time with mine." He moaned. If she was slave he would rape her. If she was free, then such desire would never do. He wanted her as slave. He wanted her as his slave.
Breathing deeply to calm her racing heart, she reached up and wiped the tears from his face.. In a soft voice she replied, "Adam, your kisses brand me more than the heated irons ever did. You have always been my reason . . .always. You forever will be." "You say you were a fool to ever let me go . . .I was a fool to freely walk away. You must have known that I didn’t want to go and that my heart did not follow. I was a good kajira to the other, but never a ‘true’ kajira for he never owned my heart. You have been the only one with its possession . . .and to truly possess me. Your collar on me was like home . . .where I belonged."
Pressing her body against him she whispered, " . . . where I still belong." Slipping her fingers inside the buttons of his shirt, she toyed with the hair on his chest. "I am so lost without you . . ."
Suddenly regaining her common sense, she stepped away from him with her back to him and fanning herself with one hand, she reaches behind her and holds her hair up off the back of her neck . . .the tan lines of her collar faded, but still visible, she grins and says. "Your kisses are still scorching and you have truly turned my thoughts into pleasures I have not taken in quite some time. Pleasures that you taught me. You turned me into an exceptional red silk, if memory serves me correctly. And oh . .. .how pleasing those lessons were." "Makes me think returning to a collar may not be so bad". She giggled again, the sound carrying to his ears. Releasing her hair and letting it fall once more down her back in long curls she turned to him and smiled evilly. "Only, one will have to catch me to collar me and I am not so easily trapped. I have become slippery in my maturity and very cunning. In fact, you may just be stepping into a trap I have set myself."
With a very haughty look on her face and the elegant stance of a confident Free Woman she says, "Tell me, Adam, what would you do with me, if I were kajira? Would you keep me caged and naked?" "Or even bound and gagged for my sharp tongue?" "Or, would you allow that tongue to glide over your body, inch by inch, and drive you to a fever pitch?"
She stood facing him, her soft eyes filled with desire for him, and only him.. Her face a sensual beckoning to him to claim her and make her his again. Her body all warm and wet in places he could not see. She longed to touch him, to taste his skin and to have him buried deep within her. Her Adam. Her Master. But, she was no longer kajira and would have to do with temptation.. And she was VERY good at temptation.
Never taking her eyes from him, she let that very tongue she teased him about come out of her mouth slowly to trace her upper lip issuing the challenge to him.
"Would you let these hands glide over your skin, massaging and kneading your sore and tired muscles or would you keep them in shackles behind my back?"
Touching a tender hand to her bare neck "Would you strangle this neck or keep it tightly to you with a leash?"
Throwing the gauntlet once more she replies, "and what is a kajira such as I would be worth to you? What would you be willing to do to once more have me on my knees at your boot?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, accentuating the valley between her breasts, she looks him straight in the eye as she awaits his responses, hoping beyond all hope, he wants her, if just a little bit. Her desire for this man is overwhelming and she would have let him take her right there against the tree just moments ago. If he hadn’t stopped kissing her, she would not have stopped him. She could not have even if she had wanted to. And what scared her, was that she didn’t want to stop him. She wanted him just as badly. She remembered all too well the feel of him within her heated body, his hands against her breasts, his mouth suckling her . . .
She felt flushed again and turned her thoughts to paying attention to him and listening to his answers to her challenge.
At that moment he knew the true heart of the woman in front of him. Time had changed them both, he had grown harder and colder and knew that deep down his heart was trying to warm the ice that and enveloped him. She had however, grown from the sassy and funny slave into a brass and independent free woman, but underneath the heavy cloth beat the heart of a kajira.
He had owned her once, and now, she stood their once again. He smiled, trying to hide the tears in his own eyes. His dear Rhayn had returned. The slave that she was had asked him a question, the Free Woman...no, the woman that she was demanded an answer. A truthful one, she would have no others.
He looked about and found a stump, then sat down on it. He turned and faced the woman.
"You ask me what I would do if you were kajira?" He smiled, his eyes dancing with mirth. He took off his belt, doubling it and smoothing it out.
"First my Lady Rhayn, would be the loss of your name. For only the Free have a name. I've always been partial to the name Rhayn, so I think that you may keep that as a slave. Of course though, it can be changed at any time. How does Val sound to you?"
He didn't wait for an answer but continued. "Would you be beaten? Once in the beginning. I know that you felt the whip once and did all you could to avoid it. As do most." "But," he winked at her "it has been a long time since you were naked and on the cross."
"Would you be kept naked and in a cage?" The image flashed through his mind and caused some involuntary reactions deep inside him. "Only if it pleased me, remember dear Lady that a slave has no rights, no recourse....for she, he looked at her to gauge her reaction...is an animal." He continued, "And animals belong in cages sometimes don't you agree?"
Again he continued, not waiting for her answer, for he thought he knew it already. "A slave is an animal because they are trained to please. With words, deeds and actions. Your tongue may be sharp, but only because your mind is as well. What fool wishes to have a dullard as a pet?" "The sharper the mind of the animal, the better the training, the better the service. The more the girl understands her heart."
He stared into her deep green eyes, that never wavered from his as he spoke. She stood their proud and lovely. She stood as a free woman stands. She stood as a slave stands. "Such a work of art a woman is," he thought, "so much confusion, so much emotion, so much pride and confidence and love bundled and jumbled up inside."
"You would serve me dinner and wine. You would serve me on the furs beside my bed on the long cool nights, your body betraying your true soul as I run my fingers and tongue over it."
He watched the slight involuntary shudder go through her as the memory of her nights as kajira flooded through her. "You simply have no choice. You would be kajira. Property. Animal. Beloved."
Now was the time to gamble.
"Although to be honest Lady," he sighed, "I am not sure if I am Master enough. I tend to love the slaves I own. So much so that sometimes I think it is I that wear the collar and not them."
"You asked if I would leash you. Oh yes, for one such as you are a prize, and I'm afraid you would be stolen out from beneath me. But to strangle you?" His mind flashed back to an incident where he nearly drowned a girl for daring to speak his name, his head dropping to stare at the ground for a moment.
"If you were to do something to deserve such treatment. Yes, but such a well trained and lovely slave as you once were would never meet such a horrid end would you?"
He looked back into her eyes, searching them for something he knew long ago and waited. She started to speak and he listened to her heart and mind and soul, lost in the music.
"Need it, nay. Want it? Perhaps." Grinning she walked to once more sit beside him on the stump, her bottom pressed next to his and her hair tickling the skin on his arm resting upon his leg. "Not so much as a punishment though, dear Adam, but more as my security blanket. Being alone has taught me so much and I know that underneath it all, I am kajira. Even if I were to Free Companion with a male, I would be kajira behind closed doors. It is who and what I am."
Picking up the beautiful cobalt blue material that was one of her best gowns and fingering its soft silk, she looked down thinking of all she would give up to once more be a true kajira. The freedom to make choices for herself, the freedom to go where she wanted and to look people in the face. The respect she was shown . . .all of it meant a little something special to her but none of it meant to her what being a kajira did. To be kajira was to be true to herself. To be kajira was to be who she was meant to be. But, could she do it again? Could she remember all the things she once knew as life? Would it be natural for her once more? She didn’t know and the not knowing is what scared her the most. And, would she be owned by someone who would be patient with her and give her time to remember or would she fall to one who was abusive, as she had seen some Masters could be. Was the risk worth it? Was she worth it?
Realizing she had grown quiet and introspective, she cleared her throat and smiled once more at this amazing Man who had given her so much. "You know . . .", she started leaning in and giving his shoulder a nudge with her own trying to turn her mood playful once more, ". . . you keep trying to be so serious with me, but I see right through you. I know that our meeting was as much as a surprise to you as it was to me and the fact that I still feel so owned by you. And, I also know that you, in your heart, still feel as though you are my Master and have every right to me. And that you want me just as badly as I want you and I am not ashamed of that. I see the strain on you where you are holding yourself back and I can feel so much from you. Why? I knew you very well once, Adam. Perhaps better than you knew yourself. Have you changed so much that you have forgotten who and what you are?"
Turning her face to his, compassion bright in her eyes. "I have not forgotten and if it were possible, I would remind you daily. You are Master to a kajira and you are everything in the world to someone. You are adored by that kajira." Taking the belt from his hands and letting it fall to the dirt, she turns and kneels before him, raising up on her knees so that her face is level with his and places his hands around her waist . . . "And by one who is free. You are larger than life and life to a girl who would die for you, and one who dies each day without you." Drawing her hands up under his chin, she urges him softly to lift his head and look at her.. "I cannot bear to see you like this, so serious and sad. I feel compelled to do all in my power to bring the joy back to you." Leaning in, she placed her lips softly on his, offering a tender, slow kiss full of longing and love.
Even without a collar on her neck, she loved this Man and always would. She knew she was not behaving as a woman of her station should but she could not bring herself to stop and let this moment pass. If a few stolen kisses were all she would have of him to hold on to, she would be satisfied. Not happy, but content. If this was the last chance she would have with him, then so be it. She would not leave him with that serious consternation on his face if she could help it. She would make him smile if it killed her, and it just might. For what she was doing right this moment was punishable, even for a Free and she knew it. But she didn’t care. He was here with her now and she knew she must take what she could from this moment..
Breaking the kiss, she pulled her face only an inch from his, looking down at him through thick lashes, her eyes glazed. Their mouths were still so close, she could feel the breath from his lips and she waited with anticipation, the invitation in her face. Would he take it or would he throw her away, disgusted by her brazen and wanton actions? Or would he consider this the act of a desperate woman? Desperate she was not!
Giving herself a mental slap on the head she thought to herself "Rhayn, you idiot, you never think things through. You should know by now not to let your heart lead you.".
Rising so quickly to her feet that she nearly knocked him off the stump, she stepped quickly to where her trampled veil lay, picking it up and shaking if off, trying to smooth the material. With her back to him, she said, "Adam, I beg pardon of you for my behavior just now.. I do not know what came over me. Memories, perhaps. But please, forgive me."
Turning only slightly to face him, she once more lifted the veil to her face, her eyes suddenly saddened. "I fear I have put you in an uncomfortable position and for that I shall never forgive myself." She reached up and latched the veil on her left side, the right still loose. She began stammering and notice that her hand was shaking. Taking in a slightly scared breath, she looked to him.
He sat there and listened to the words unfurl from her lovely mouth. They spoke volumes to him and he stood as if in a dream and watched himself move to her. Forgetting about the poison pins that are sometimes hidden in a woman's veil and dress to teach foolish men a lesson, he watched his body from afar take the girls veil in hand. He ripped it off her, then pulled her head close to his lips and kissed her. It was the kiss that a Master gives a slave girl to claim her as his own. He watched her body melt and he knew her emotions. He watched them flood into her.
Then as if in a dream, he let the girl loose. "Forgive you," the voice he recognized as his own spoke, "their is nothing to forgive."
Somewhere far off their was a snap and instantly he turned towards it, breaking the mood and bringing his mind back to his body. "You spoke your heart dear Lady." He realized that he still had the veil in his hand but made no effort to give it back to her, the fabric felt good in his hands and he could taste her flavor on her lips.
He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs and turned, walking a few feet from her he sat upon the log again. His eyes narrowed as he sat there, weighing the next sentence he was going to say carefully. It would be her choice, it would be her option, that much - and only that - he would give her. "How many times has she practically begged to be collared?" he thought.
His mind reeled and then he looked at her with steely eyes as blue as the ice on the far northern sea.
"Kajira you are, you have said so yourself. You stand there and retreat from what you know you must do, what you wish to do! But I will give you the option Free Woman."
He picked up the folded belt from on the ground and pulled a strap of binding fiber out of his pack, laying them both across his knee.
"You can walk away from me Lady Rhayn, and if we ever met again I will not speak of this. You are a scribe and respected and I'm sure loved by those that know you. Your freedom is a gift. I will not let your foolish womanly pride spoil it because you wish to play a game."
He looked at her, his eyes softened and he spoke to her softly now. "Rhayn, you may submit before me and say the words 'la kajira.' I will bind your hands and the woman you once were is gone. Only the slave you are will remain."
"But," he stated with force, "know this. The kajira will be all that remains. Your freedom will stay with the lovely dress here in this spot. So that only the trees and birds will know what occurred here."
He leaned down and brushed a section of the ground, removing any pebbles or twigs from the area in front of him. It was just big enough for her to kneel down in and he was sure that she knew that.
He sat back and waited, watching the Free Woman and slave. His friend and his property. He knew he would watch and wait for eternity if needed. Till even the mighty Sardar mountains crumbled into the sea.
Off in the distance a bird took flight, a cricket chirped. All the world stopped and waited.
As she watched him walk away from her, still carrying her veil, she knew this was a moment that would change her life forever. He offered her the safety of a collar. His collar. Not just the safety it would provide, but the love that she knew went with it. She had always been his and here was the opportunity to once more be a beloved to this Man, this wonderful Man. But, to take it would be to give up everything she had become.
Standing before him, watching his every movement, her mind raced and soared. She was elated, yet terrified. Not of him, but of disappointing him. If she did this, if she submitted to him and became his kajira, she would have to remember all of his likes and dislike or risk the whip.. The memory of her branding flashed through her mind and the terror of that day caused her to gasp aloud.
But then he was so kindly clearing a space on the ground for her . . .showing her that he wanted her submission. He wanted Her . . .the kajira who had been abandoned, the scribe that hated being Free, even the hothead little minx she was inside. He wanted it all for himself and she wanted him, above all others, to have it.
Stepping forward, one slow step at a time, she stood in the clear patch he had created just for her. Looking deep into his ice blue eyes, her sparkling like emeralds, she stood. Just stood. Thinking, weighing her choices very carefully. Then, with resolve set on her face and her features soft with understanding and commitment, she leaned towards his face, kissing him softly once more as a Free Woman. Her tongue teasing his lips until his mouth accepted her kiss. Her hands caressing the sides of his face. Her jasmine scent wrapping around both of them. She told him with her mouth what he already knew to be true. She was His. He owned her once more. He possessed every fiber of who and what she was.
Breaking the kiss slowly, she un-zipped the dress and let the voluminous material slide down her body ever so slowly and fall to the forest floor. As each inch of her skin was exposed for his eyes, and his eyes only, she felt more than saw the shudder run through him.
She removed the bindings around her chest exposing her lush breasts to his gaze. Her nipples were hardened and bespoke her excitement. Thrust forward as they were, perky and tempting, they begged him to draw those nipples into his mouth until she was screaming from ecstacy.
She slid the soft silken panties off her body revealing the patch of red curls that glistened with the sign of her arousal from his kisses. Stepping out of them, she lay them down beside the gown of the scribe she had been.. Her body was on fire for this Man and she felt no shame in being before him in this manner and for his perusal, the sweet scent of her desire for him in the air between them.
She stood before him, naked and open. Her body showing all the signs of her submission before the words were ever spoken. She wanted this and she wanted to belong to him. She wanted, nay, needed, his collar on her.
Sinking silently to her knees before him, spreading her legs wide, she raised her arms above her head, crossed her wrists in complete and total submission and spoke the words that would bind them. "La Kajira."
Looking up at him, lifting her chin, she awaited the one thing that would make her whole once more . . .her Master’s collar around her neck.
She was his Kajira now and loved the feeling of that ownership. She knew the road ahead would be long and hard, but she loved a challenge. And she loved him. Protector. Lover. Friend. MASTER..
His heart stopped, he knew she would submit to him, but somehow he never expected her to actually say the words. Now she had, it was over. He had won. "No," he thought, "she had won, she had everything she once had and wanted again."
He stood and picked up the binding twine and slipped it around her wrists, tightening them with a slight pull. Then he touched her neck and traced a collar with a single finger, "Soon enough we will have a real one about your neck."
"The belt would serve for now." he told her in a voice he hoped was not quavering, and slipped it around her neck. Thank the Priest Kings her face was bowed although he knew she was smiling despite herself.
He tugged it, bringing her to her feet. He wanted to kiss her, to take her again and love her small agile frame. But that could wait, he had waited this long...he chuckled...they had waited this long.
She stood there, naked and enslaved and beautiful. Owned.
"Your sister is going to love you. Let's go home kajira." And with a smile he pinned the veil back on her face, looking into bright moist green eyes.
"Yes Master." she nearly sung.
A slight tug got her moving in the direction of home leaving a blue dress behind.
Introduction of sorts
I used to be a writer. I wrote for some online papers, covering soccer and running. I wrote some short stories here and there, even managed to get a few published. Once, I was even asked to read a poem of mine for Amnesty International.
I got tired of searching for stories that interest me. So now and again their will be some dark stuff here, some stories that may contain death. Slavery, consensual and other wise. BDSM.
There may also be tales of lightness and humor. In other words I don't know. They may even be in the same story. Frankly I don't know yet.
So I decided to try and write them. If you wish to write and publish your own stories on this blog let me know and I'll be happy to add you. Contact me at robertj.waco@gmail.com
Comments are open to all, but moderated. I don't mind constructive criticism but "Dude, you suck!" really isn't constructive criticism is it?
The first story posted takes place in the Universe created by John Norman and his Gor novels. I borrow some of his ideas for this story and respect his works deeply. It is actually a collaboration between myself and a friend of mine named Rhyn. The tale is a bit long and could use an editor but it's a fun little piece.
Please understand that some of the names metioned are based upon are past history, using a program called Second Life, and really don't play into the story that much.
I got tired of searching for stories that interest me. So now and again their will be some dark stuff here, some stories that may contain death. Slavery, consensual and other wise. BDSM.
There may also be tales of lightness and humor. In other words I don't know. They may even be in the same story. Frankly I don't know yet.
So I decided to try and write them. If you wish to write and publish your own stories on this blog let me know and I'll be happy to add you. Contact me at robertj.waco@gmail.com
Comments are open to all, but moderated. I don't mind constructive criticism but "Dude, you suck!" really isn't constructive criticism is it?
The first story posted takes place in the Universe created by John Norman and his Gor novels. I borrow some of his ideas for this story and respect his works deeply. It is actually a collaboration between myself and a friend of mine named Rhyn. The tale is a bit long and could use an editor but it's a fun little piece.
Please understand that some of the names metioned are based upon are past history, using a program called Second Life, and really don't play into the story that much.
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