Agents Of Gor: Part 8 free porn video

Agents of Gor: Part 8 A Girl prepares to Sleep by Albedo This is a fan-fiction set in the world of the Gor novels. All rights to the characters and situations of the Gor universe belong to John Norman. This work is written without his express permission. This story is explicitly not to be reposted on any pay sites. The author, Albedo, authorizes the readers to archive it for themselves. No other dissemination without the author's permission, please. He can be contacted via his gmail account, albedo404. What Has Gone Before: Armand of Tellus is an Earth-born agent of the secretive Priest-Kings of Gor. He has delivered a female captive, Lila Fischer, a courier agent of the enemy Kurii, to the Sardar, the Priest-Kings home, for interrogation. The Priest-Kings mind-reading machine backfired when Armand attempted to prise some secrets from Lila's brain, and now Armand is trapped in Lila's body, and Lila is now in possession of Armand's body. After a perilous evening's service as paga girls in a tavern Armand and his sisters of the collar can finally rest. Or can they? -------------------------------------------------------- "Vella?" Tisoch roared. "Vella you worthless waste of a collar and a brand, where in the name of the Priest-Kings are you?" "I hurry, hurry, hurry to my sweet Master's side!" Vella sang as he skipped towards Tisoch, dancing through the throng of tittering slavegirls in her way. Somehow she stumbled as she arrived and Tisoch's cuff of punishment swept over the top of her head. His second swing fared no better as Vella dropped in nadu before him and the third swipe similarly met only empty air as she bowed deeply, her forehead brushing the floor. She sat back up as gracefully as she had bowed, chewing at her lip with a worried expression on her face. "Master?" she enquired, looking up at the towering figure above her. "That loose flagstone, I nearly tripped, you should really do--" "Quiet, insolent slave!" he roared, fists clenched. Vella bounced on her heels, a giant smile creasing her face. "Did you hear that girls?" She turned her head, beaming to the giggling slaves standing around enjoying the entertainment. "Our wonderful Master called me an excellent slave!" She bowed again, dodging yet another thunderous slap from the enraged Tisoch. "You, you-" he grabbed his belt with both hands, drew in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. Vella smiled again as Tisoch's hands relaxed. He reached out and petted her head. She rose off her heels into the rough-handed caress, letting the strong fingers shake her head from side to side as gently as he would have handled a kitten. "I'll sell you someday, Vella, see if I don't," he murmured. "I know you will, Master," she replied quietly, eyes lowered. "But not today." "Not today, Master," She looked up again, her eyes bright with moisture and her fragile smile more honest than her theatrical posturing of a moment before. "Tomorrow, perhaps this girl will be sold," The giggling stopped as Vella's words spread out through the crowd around her. They were simply slaves, paga girls, and they knew what First Girl Vella had said was a simple truth. A paga tavern's customers liked variety, new girls to tempt their jaded eyes and tastes and Tisoch was not sentimental enough to keep any girl, even one like Vella around too long. Perhaps he had grown fond of her, perhaps, but that only meant he should be thinking of her sale, which slave would take over her duties as First Girl, perhaps bring fresh blood into the tavern's captive workforce with the purchase of new girls. "Tomorrow, perhaps, this girl will be sold," he rumbled as he pulled his hand away, rubbing the palm as if to remove some imaginary taint acquired from Vella's immaculately clean hair. Armand-in-Lila watched the two, Master and slave, interact from the wall where he had been chained again after going out to help close the tavern for the night. His mouth worked uncomfortably around the slimy plug-gag which had been reinserted by Lila-in-Armand -- "Just a precaution, girl. There are still a few Masters out there who aren't asleep or totally wasted," -- as he struggled to comprehend how a societal structure of absolute domination and submission could lead to the sort of obvious affection and expression of care for each other that Tisoch and Vella shared. Why didn't he do the right thing and free Vella? Why didn't she despise the man who kept her in subjection, in a collar, as a slave? Perhaps his Earth-born attitudes to such things didn't actually apply here on Gor where the pattern of male domination and female subservience had been tested and refined for thousands of years to the point where it was the normal thing that a Master and a slave could be fond of each other and for them both to accept, possibly even desire their relationship as Master and slave should continue without alteration. What could that mean for him, if he couldn't escape his female prison, couldn't get his rightful male body back, couldn't... Could he accept Lila as his Master in the way Vella had accepted Tisoch? Could he accept her domination of his body and worse, his spirit? His imagination drew pictures in his mind, of him chained on the furs at the foot of the bed in his rooms as Lilianne, the temporary slave had been the previous night, of Lila-in-Armand lying between his thighs, of... he shuddered at the images and the ambiguous feelings they engendered. Nope, not gonna happen, he told himself forcefully but at the back of his mind was the knowledge that being collar-chained on the furs was not dependent on him deciding it would be so or would be no, not on Gor where such decisions were not left to those females who wore collars like himself. "Masters?" Kresca's interjection was not as tentative and hesitant as that one might expect from a kajira who dared to interrupt a Master about his business. Tisoch and Lila-in-Armand turned as she pointed to the bound figure of the temporary slave Lilianne, kneeling slumped against a wall in the corner of the room. "Her hands are white. Those arm-straps--" but Tisoch was already in motion. He hoisted the limp figure to her feet and examined her arms bound tightly behind her back by a series of leather straps. "Damn me for a blind--" he half-lifted, half-threw Lilianne down on a bench scattering the girls sitting there before he got to work undoing one buckle after another. Kresca was instantly beside him, her scarred leg not slowing her down appreciably. She lifted one of Lilianne's arms as soon as it was free of the leather and started kneading the muscles, her hard thin fingertips burying themselves in the deeply-grooved flesh. Lilianne bucked and screamed as Tisoch dropped the bundle of straps and started doing the same to her other arm. She writhed, trying to escape the grip of the two unlikely masseurs but to no avail as her horrified collar-sisters clung terrified to each other. "Get a bucket, no two buckets of hot water. Now!" Kresca flung the command over her shoulder, her fingers never ceasing to work at Lilianne's arm and hand, her knee in the temporary slave's back holding her down as she somehow kept her balance on her bad leg. Vella nodded and pointed to two girls nearby. "The bath, fill buckets. As hot as you can get it," The girls hesitated. "Go!" The crisp command in their First Girl's voice sent the girls scampering off through a doorway which Armand-in-Lila presumed led to a bathroom of some sort. "Tisoch, work the blood further down, push it into her hands or she'll lose those fingers to black rot before morning!" Tisoch raised his bushy eyebrows at a mere slave issuing orders to a Master but obeyed her, his fingers wrapping almost around Lilianne's forearm as he rubbed and squeezed following the pot-and-kettle girl's example. The two girls Vella had despatched came back with steaming buckets and Kresca nodded to them while continuing her ministrations. "Put the buckets down, one either side of the bench," The girls obeyed hurriedly, carefully avoiding the frightening figure who like them wore a collar and a brand but was not an obedient creature with no will of her own as properly befitted a kajira. Kresca plunged Lilianne's hand into the steaming water and pressed down with her good knee between Lilianne's shoulders as she jerked and screamed again. Tisoch followed suit on the other side of the bench but Lilianne's last reserves of energy suddenly evaporated and she slumped unconscious. Kresca's fingers made one more expert gouging pass down Lilianne's limp arm then she pulled the girl's hand from the bucket and peered at her fingertips. She pressed experimentally on a fingernail and nodded. "White then pink, she'll keep her fingers, looks like." She dropped Lilianne's hand back into the bucket and stood back, shaking her own fingers with a grimace. "Haven't done that sort of digging in a long time, too long," She peered over at Armand-in-Lila who was still kneeling at the wall-ring, watching with horrified fascination. "Still--" "Kresca?" Tisoch interrupted. "Have a look at her other arm, if you will," Kresca blinked at Tisoch's polite request but she stumped around the bench and lifted Lilianne's other arm, peering at the fingertips. Vella ducked her head under Tisoch's arm to study Lilianne's hand too. Tisoch pretended to ignore the presumptuous intrusion of his First Girl. "Look, see?" Tisoch and Vella followed Kresca's pointing finger intently. "If you press the nail it goes white underneath then the blood rushes back and, look, pink again. If the tip's dead then it'll stay white and rot will set in. It's best to cut the fingers off to save the rest of the hand if that happens." She dropped Serressa's limp hand back in the bucket again. "Get two girls to rub her arms with cloth for half an Ahn just in case. Work down from the shoulder to the wrist, no need to dig deep." "Aye," he nodded, but Vella had already turned away to pick out two of her underlings. "Vara, Jikka, bring some scarves here and do what Kresca tells you," The two girls hurried off to the piles of clothes scattered here and there across the floor from Kresca's earlier rampage and started sorting through them. "Silk will do, rep cloth will be better," Kresca called after them. Lilianne moaned again and started to twist on the bench. Kresca gripped her arm to keep her hand in the bucket. "If you would, Master." Tisoch nodded and did the same on the other side of the bench but Lilianne's feeble attempts to pull her hands out were easily overcome. The two girls reappeared with handfuls of cloth and set to work rubbing and massaging Lilianne's arms under Kresca's direction. "Ach, friend Armand." Tisoch looked around distracted as Vella turned to the flock of frightened girls under her command, issuing orders to clean up the mess around them. "I should have..." "It wasn't your fault, friend Tisoch," Lila-in-Armand interrupted. "Things got a bit hectic here and you were distracted." Tisoch humpfed. "No, my friend," He waved a heavy hand at the girls hurrying around the room, gossiping and joking now the drama was over. "They are not simply property, a broken belt buckle to be discarded when it no longer serves its purpose," He hitched at the wide belt around his substantial waist. "True, there are Masters who care less about their slaves but I would be the destitute owner of an empty paga tavern if I neglected my girls," He looked down. "And Lilianne is one of my girls, for tonight at least, and I owe her the care I'd give to Vella or any of the others. And I failed her." Lila-in-Armand rested her hand on Tisoch's shoulder for a moment. "And it will not happen again. Will it?" Tisoch shook his head. "Right," Lila-in-Armand beckoned to Kresca who was hunched over at the bench observing the two girls rubbing Lilianne's arms with handfuls of rough cloth. The thin-featured slave straightened up, wincing in obvious pain and limped over to the two Masters. "Yes, Master?" she said in a manner which bordered on insolent indifference. "You really need to work on your tone of voice when you speak to Masters, girl," Lila-in-Armand said conversationally as her hand rooted around in her belt pouch. "Yes Master." It was not an improvement. "Still..." Lila produced a hard candy and presented it to Kresca who looked at it dully. "Since you were a goooood girl tonight." Kresca held the candy between two fingers and examined it closely, as if it was poisoned. "And what am I supposed to do with this?" There was a pause. "Master?" Still no improvement. Tisoch stifled a laugh. Lila sighed. "Why, eat it my dear Kresca. It's a treat, for girls who have been good," Kresca raised an eyebrow but popped it into her mouth. Lila-in-Armand patted her on her head. "Gooood girl." Kresca's expression indicated she did not regard the candy as a treat as most other kajirae would. She didn't spit it out though. "Speaking of property, friend Armand." Tisoch waved his hand at Armand- in-Lila still kneeling, collar-chained to the wall ring where he had been secured on his return to the slave preparation room and where perforce he had stayed throughout the recent drama and excitement. "Time to take care of your other girl. She's been in that virgin's harness for a few Ahn now and it's going to be leaving more than marks in some tender places if it stays on much longer." "True. I can imagine how painful it would be if I were wearing it for any length of time." Lila slid her hands down her male hips. "However I don't think it would have fitted me in the first place," Tisoch laughed. "True, true, friend Armand. However your sweet white talender seems to have appreciated its snug comforts tonight." Armand-in-Lila remained kneeling as the two male figures approached the wall where he was secured by his collar-chain. Despite Armand's desire to meet his enemy eye-to-eye, or at least as well as he might when the body he unwillingly inhabited was a good six inches shorter than his true flesh, was overridden by the fact he had not been instructed to break nadu. A kajira learned early in her servitude that a Master's will applied to their every breath until an order was specifically revoked, or in truth replaced by another expression of that Master's will. A slave girl was always under the domination of her Master, one command succeeding another all the time they remained in their relationship with no free period where a girl's whims could be legitimately entertained. "The whip of words" it was sometimes called although gestures and touches would suffice to command a properly trained kajira; indeed the kneeling female figure the two Masters were approaching had already been partially schooled in that particular skill. A word, a gesture, a simple touch would have brought Armand-in-Lila to his feet but that word, that gesture, that touch was not forthcoming. Armand-in-Lila perforce remained in nadu. Lila rummaged in her belt pouch for a moment then an anguished expression appeared on her face. "Oh dear, where could that belt key be? Don't tell me I've lost it somewhere." Armand blanched at her words then simultaneous feelings of relief and annoyance swept over him as he caught sight of that incongruous twisted smile which revealed Lila-in-Armand was making yet another one of her bad jokes at his expense. ***Laugh it up, funny girl. When I get out of this body, I'll...*** Some of what he was thinking must have leaked past his defences and revealed itself to Lila. She produced the key with a theatrical flourish. "Ah, found it," She looked at Armand inquisitively. "Are you absolutely sure you want shot of that nice shiny piece of jewellery, girl? You could wear it all the time from now on if you wanted." Armand let his steady gaze answer her pointless question. "Your answer is no, I presume," she squinted. "Hell no to be more precise. Absofuckinglutely the hell no. For sure and certain..." Armand closed his eyes in exasperation which, it seemed, Lila had been waiting for him to do. A touch on Armand-in-Lila's elbow evoked a trained-kajira response and he automatically stood up, only realising what he had done when he was already on his feet. Lila swiftly turned him around to face the wall, his collar turning smoothly on his slim neck under the pull of the chain secured to the wall ring, dragging his close-linked hands to one side by the short chain that connected his bracelets to the collar. He felt his abbreviated skirt being lifted at the back and twitched at the touch of yet another rough male hand resting familiarly on his butt. ***I'm getting tired of getting groped*** he thought to himself resignedly ***and it only started happening to me this evening*** "You know," Lila went on in English as she worked behind his back, "I used to watch programmes on telly about American high schools, all the kids with perfect teeth and hair and suntans and hundred-quid trainers, nothing like the bombsite school I went to with a bunch of fat pimply teenagers dressed in charity shop rejects. I always wondered about the long-legged cheerleaders they had on those shows wiggling their bums in short skirts, never saw the attraction of them," She laughed. "Until now." Armand heard a click as Lila said, "That's got it," and the belly band of the chastity belt loosened. He was brusquely turned back around and Lila pulled the hinged crotchstrap from under his skirt, scraping his inner thighs further. She caught the heavy steel weight as it fell free and handed it to Tisoch. "There, that's a weight off your... mind." She grinned as she tugged at the hem of his short pleated skirt, pulling it back down into place on his broad hips. "Let's get the rest of you sorted now, shall we?" She unlocked his collar from the wall chain and turned to lead the way back towards the dressing area, assuming that Armand would follow her as any properly trained kajira would be expected to. The other girls scattered out of Lila's way but Armand noticed the looks they gave and heard the whispers they exchanged as he followed the male figure, unnoticed by his collar-sisters. The general consensus apparently was that the Warrior was very much a Gorean male of the sort that they would be content to serve as kajirae in all manner of ways. His heart sank at the renewed realisation that Lila was doing a better job of wearing Warrior Red than he had when he had been in his proper body. He angrily quashed the consequential thought that he was doing a better job of wearing a collar and White Silk than Lila ever would have in her original form. ***Not so*** he insisted to himself, unconsciously heeling Lila-in-Armand as expertly as any experienced kajira would, the hem of his short skirt swaying in counterpoint to the movement of his freshly-liberated hips. "Problem, friend Tisoch?" Lila's question brought Armand's attention back to the tavern Master who was wiping the hated iron belt with a rag. "Rust," growled Tisoch. "Girls sweat hard wearing this sort of thing and it needs to be cleaned promptly once it's taken off," He peered at the crotch-strap then to Armand's amazement and embarrassment he sniffed it. "Kajirae juice in it too, sometimes," he muttered, rubbing harder at the strap with his cloth. The smile Lila bestowed on Armand-in-Lila at Tisoch's words was a killing offence, he decided as his ears turned red. Some of his thoughts obviously leaked through his attempted poker-face and only served to cause her to laugh out loud. Tisoch looked up from his cleaning efforts at the sound. "No, not in this case, my friend." He gave a final rub to the metal in his hand. "Piss, maybe, a touch but no more," He reached out to pull gently at the White Silks still scarfed on Armand-in-Lila's collar, ignoring Armand's reflexive move away from his hand. "She's not been fired yet, not properly if that White Silk is true so I'd not expect her to juice thoroughly from a single evening's service in my tavern." Lila looked from the belt to Armand's face which had not lost any of its ruddiness. His white-knuckled fists captive in their short-chained bracelets indicated just how demeaning he considered the talk going on literally over his head. "Piss?" Lila raised one eyebrow. "She, ah, went before we came here and..." She clicked her fingers. "Ah, there was that incident, the drunken Warrior and his friends who tried to liberate her from the belt..." She nodded speculatively. "That would account for it. A few drops, at least." Killing was too good for her, Armand decided as he stared at the flagstones beneath his bare feet, blood boiling in his head and wishing the stones would open up and swallow him, or better yet swallow Lila. Gor disappointed him as it had so many times before and Lila continued on her way unswallowed leaving Armand to obediently heel her again, his teeth clamped tightly around the intrusive plug-gag secured in his mouth. A few moments later Armand-in-Lila was back at the bench before the makeup mirrors. This time there was no resounding clunk as solid steel met hard wooden planks but the bruises and scraped flesh of his nether regions were still painful enough to elicit another wince as he sat down. The plug gag made an obscene popping sound as it was finally extracted from Armand-in-Lila's aching mouth, streamers of saliva dripping disgustingly from his chin down into his cleavage. He worked his jaws to relieve the residual ache in the joints as Lila dropped the damn thing on the table before him. "Let's have a look at that lip," Lila said, bending his head back and up to peer at the bitemarks Mister X had inflicted on him earlier. "Ick," she said, touching the swollen area with a rough fingertip. "Bleeding's stopped though," Armand was surprised to see what looked like concern in her expression although he assumed it was only because her personal property had suffered an intimate insult from another, or perhaps was it because she still thought of the female body he was trapped in was her own? He blinked at the idea as she released her hold on his head and turned to Vella. "Have you any ointments or creams for cuts and the like?" she asked. Vella nodded. "I'll go get the medicine box, Master," and she turned away. Armand looked at himself in the mirror, at Lila's body still dressed in the Team Vella outfit and his own true body in Warrior Red standing off to one side watching Vella disappear off into a corner of the room. He touched the swollen lips with his tongue, feeling the rough indentations and crusted blood over and above the pre-existing feminine swelling. ***Bastard***, he thought to himself thinking of Mister X then ***Bastards***, widening his condemnation to cover all the men on Gor. In the mirror he saw Lila step away from the bench as realisation suddenly struck him. He was no longer gagged and the Nest gag was switched off! The knowledge froze him for a second, no more. He licked his lips hurriedly, checked that Lila-in-Armand was a few paces off and then turned suddenly on the bench to address the room in a hoarse shout. "I'm not who you think I am! I'm really Armand-" the click in his throat left him mouthing soundlessly, unable to speak again. He caught sight of Lila holding the control egg in one hand unobtrusively, tapping a finger on its gleaming surface next to the golden "silence" button. As she saw Armand's gaze fall on the egg she moved her finger to rest suggestively on the red button. He winced reflexively. "Yes we know, you're really Amanda," Lila laughed. "Remember I gave you that name earlier this evening?" She frowned theatrically as Armand-in- Lila sat frozen, his eyes fixed on the control egg and the red button. If she pushed that button... "However, GIRL, I think you've worn out that name's welcome so I'm taking it back again." There was a susurrus of whispering from the other girls at Lila's words. Losing her name was a dread punishment for kajirae; they had to earn their names from their Masters and witnessing another kajira publicly stripped of her only true possession was somewhat shocking. Lila grasped Armand's thin upper arm with one strong-fingered hand, lifting him easily off the bench as she turned to the tavern keeper. "My NAMELESS little talender here seems somewhat... distraught after her exertions this evening, Tisoch. Is there somewhere I can secure her so she won't disturb the others, somewhere quiet? I think she's had enough excitement for the moment." "Of course, of course." Tisoch hitched his belt. "There's a cell we use for girls who are sick or hurt. She can spend the night there if you think it best." "Clever, but not smart, my girl," Lila said quietly, leaning in close to Armand's ear as they followed the broad back of Tisoch down a corridor at the rear of the tavern, with Kresca stumping along a few paces behind her new Master. "Can't fault you for trying, princess but everything in life has a pricetag attached, don't you know." She took out the control egg again and Armand, wide-eyed shook his head frantically as her finger covered the red button. "No?" Lila shrugged and put the egg away. "OK then," Armand's relief was shattered by a resounding slap on his skirt-covered butt that threw him forward, twisting in Lila's hold of his upper arm. Another agonising slap followed the first on the other cheek and a third followed the second. Tisoch turned around at the familiar sound of a kajira being punished and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Armand-in-Lila hanging half-slumped from Lila's hold on his upper arm, mouth gaping and eyes streaming tears while Lila waved her free hand theatrically as if to cool it. "Stings a bit, Tisoch," she said, grinning. The tavernkeeper laughed. "That's not what your girl would say if she had her voice," He shrugged. "I can find you a whip if you want it and there are wall-rings and binding fibre in the cell. Less painful for you," Armand shook wildly at Tisoch's words and the thought of being whipped by Lila. Lila pretended to give the matter some thought. "Maybe later, my friend, but I'm tired and I believe this little one is truly repentant now." She shook Armand. "Aren't you, girl?" Armand nodded, tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. He didn't want to be whipped. "Well if you're a good girl tonight then I'll reconsider whether you should be punished further." Armand jerked again as Lila patted his rump lightly. Kresca had caught up with the group while this had been happening and eyed her Master and his silently weeping slave. Lila laughed again. "Don't worry, Kresca. No spanking for you for being slow. I'd probably break my fingers on your bony butt anyway." She nodded, possibly in agreement then followed Tisoch, Lila and a limping Armand into a dimly- lit room at the end of the corridor. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - In the almost-total darkness of the cell Armand-in-Lila finally summed up his current position as uncomfortable, inescapable and embarrassing. Uncomfortable, of course. He was lying near-naked on a thin mat of woven fibres over hard cold flagstones with his recent spanking adding not inconsiderably to the level of discomfort he was experiencing. Inescapable, for sure. The restraints that held him spreadeagled on the floor were easily sufficient to keep him there, and Armand had experienced being bound as a kajira enough times in the last two days that he didn't even bother to try to break free until Lila-in-Armand and Kresca had left the cell, closing the door behind them. Of the three, the embarrassing aspect of his manner of confinement was the newest and currently the most unpleasant experience. He had been chained uncomfortably before now, in the kennel back in his, now Lila's quarters. Inescapable, well he had tried breaking free from his bonds before and, like every new female kajira before him he had found it was not to be. This was Gor, after all, and no amount of wishing otherwise would change that hard reality for him. This exaggerated spreadeagle posture was new and that had been Kresca's doing, or at least enforced on Armand-in-Lila at her suggestion. "She's out of condition for a dancer," the crippled slave explained as Lila-in-Armand snapped the short chains on Armand-in-Lila's ankle cuffs to the widespread floor rings. "She needs stretching." "And she can do it in her sleep. Right?" She looked up at Kresca with that grin on her face again as Armand tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position, something he knew to be impossible given the rigours of his chaining. Kresca bent with a hiss of pain and Armand felt her bony fingers digging into his leg, working their way up from his ankle to his upper thigh like some malevolent spider. He could make no complaint, of course as his voice was switched off under the control of the Nest gag embedded in his throat. He tried to raise his head to indicate some kind of objection to Kresca's manipulations but even that was denied him due to the tensions on his shoulders from the wrist cuffs. "Shorten the ankle chains, by... two more links." There was a pause. "Master," Kresca's tone of voice was not that usually heard when a kajira spoke to a free male but at least this time she had not omitted the obligatory honorific as she was wont to do. "Two more?" queried Lila-in-Armand. "Two more. On each ankle chain. Master." "If you say so. You're the expert." Armand felt the outward strain on his ankles increase as the ankle cuff chains shortened again and he inhaled sharply as the pain in his pelvis and hips spiked, ligaments popping and muscles stretching unnaturally. Kresca's fingers performed their spider walk up his other leg and then she levered herself up into view past Armand's breasts. "Not enough, but enough for tonight," Her eyes tracked up Armand-in- Lila's body in a proprietary manner as if oblivious to the fact she wore a collar similar to the one locked around Armand's slim throat, marking her body as slave. "Lots to do with this one, yes." Her finger stabbed down again, touching his belly in a painful spot. "The belt, it has scraped her, here," the finger moved, "and here," She looked up at Lila-in-Armand, who shrugged. "Tisoch told me it was a bit small for her. I'm no expert in these things but it was all he had. Not much call for that sort of item in a paga tavern after all." She bent down to look at Armand's belly. "Hmmm, a few scratches but the skin's not broken." She stood again, then helped Kresca to her feet. "I'll get Tisoch to send a girl in with some ointments and clean them up later." She picked up the Team Vella outfit she had stripped off Armand-in-Lila before outfitting him in his regular White Silks. "I must remember to thank Vella for the loan of this outfit. I was surprised just how good it looked on... you." She grinned down at the pinioned figure at her feet. Armand could do nothing but turn his head in frustration and resignation. The wall-shadows danced as Lila took the lantern and started to leave the small cell, the sort of accommodation usually reserved for girls requiring medical treatment or isolation from the other paga slaves for some reason. It was, of course, well equipped with rings set in the walls and the floor to ensure that any girl sequestered there would not leave on her own accord. Indeed most slave accommodations were so equipped as it made things simpler for Masters to secure their belongings as required. Kresca looked back on the helplessly- spreadeagled form of Armand-in-Lila then returned and bent down again, her fingers working at Armand's crotch. Lila turned at the noise. "Her silks, needed straightening." Armand felt the gossamer touch of his White Silks lying neatly between his widespread thighs again. Lila raised an eyebrow as Kresca stood up awkwardly. "A girl's Silks are important to her," Kresca explained. "They... they ARE her, in a way." She fingered the rough fabric of her slave tunic, somewhat shabby and torn at the edges. "A dancer, especially..." "Heh," said Lila, grinning again. "And does the girl Kresca desire silks of her own?" She hesitated for a second then shook her head, rubbing a hand absently down her scarred leg. "No, my days of wearing silks are over." She paused. "Master." "You wore silks? As a Free Woman?" Lila asked incredulously. "Yes of course," she said sharply. "Can't train a dancer if you don't know how to dance, and dancers wear silks." She looked back at Armand- in-Lila pinioned on the cold floor, her eyes focussed on the sheer strip of white silk that was his only clothing. "I wore White Silk once like your girl there, then Red when I took a Companion." She shrugged. "Then this," she rubbed her leg again, "happened and then this," she touched her collar, "and a pot-and-kettle girl doesn't wear silks. Master." "You know, I was wondering about your leg. Looks nasty. Exactly how did it happen?" "There was a fire." She looked away. "And?" prompted Lila. "Master." Lila's laughter rang the walls of the cell. "You're a treasure, Kresca, a real gem." She wiped her eyes. "Right then, my monosyllabic slave, here's what you'll do. You'll tell us the story of how you came to be in the Sardar in that condition and wearing a collar. Got it?" Kresca stared at Lila-in-Armand. "You can start any time you like. Girl." Lila's voice dropped dangerously. "I ran a training school for dancers in Cos." Kresca spoke in a low emotionless tone, the words falling from her lips like icicles from a frozen roof gutter, her eyes focussed elsewhere in memory. "Another trainer, a Cosian named Theosus tried to buy me out then set fire to my school when I wouldn't sell it to him. I survived but a burning roofbeam fell on me," she touched her scarred leg, "most of my girls in the slave cages died. I killed Theosus after I healed up well enough then I was enslaved by the Cosians for the killing. I went from one Master to another, then I was boarded at Tisoch's place." She shrugged. "There isn't anything more to tell. Master." Lila squinted at the thin figure. "How did you kill this fellow Theosus? Poison, a knife?" "I kicked him." Lila raised an eyebrow. "In the throat," Kresca went on. "It hurt a lot." "I bet it would," Lila muttered. "His guards searched me, took my knives. He wanted to gloat, I had to balance on my bad leg for the kick but I trained dancers. I fainted from the pain," Lila winced. "One last thing. You said you had a Companion? What happened to him, did he die in the fire too?" Kresca sighed. "I kicked him in the throat." Lila goggled at Kresca. "Theosus was... you married... you killed your Companion?" Kresca sighed again. "It was a partnership of convenience, I was an outsider in Cos. He supplied the money and connections and I trained the dancers. We separated and he set up his own school then..." She stopped as Lila waved her hand in negation. "Master." After the door had closed and he heard the locking bolt snick into place Armand-in-Lila indulged himself in some pointless twisting and tugging at his bonds, knowing full well that his freedom was not to be had by his efforts but simply to express his frustrations physically as best he could in his limited circumstances. The only practical result of his exertions in the darkness were some more twinges in his already over- abused hip joints and a slight bump on the back of his head from an over-exuberant effort to lift himself up off the floor. He screamed, silently of course thanks to the never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Nest gag he had caused to be set in Lila's throat and then he sighed just as silently. ***Sleep now***, he thought to himself, ***then tomorrow... what of tomorrow? Same as today, or worse?*** He was no closer to his goal, no nearer a return to his true body than he had been when he had woken that morning in the slave kennel in his rooms, braceleted and ankle-chained. He recalled sourly how uncomfortable he had thought that slave kennel had been; compared to his current enforced positioning in the cell in Tisoch's tavern it had been the epitome of luxury and comfort. ***Sleep, if I can and then tomorrow...*** He was wakened from his half-doze by the sound of the doorbolt sliding back. He blinked into the light of a lamp as a figure, a girl by its silhouette made its way into the cell, closing the door behind her. As she knelt by his side and his eyes adjusted he recognised her as Vella, naked apart from her collar glinting in the lamplight. She put down a basket of some sort and started rummaging though it as Armand strained to raise his head to see her. "You Master told me to send a girl to put cream on your scratches." She touched his belly, just above the light chain that held his White Silks in place, "from that chastity belt thing you were wearing all night." She squinted, grimaced and then pulled out a pot of some kind and dipped her finger into it. "I decided I would do it myself, let the girls get some sleep. The perils of being in charge, I suppose." The ointment was cold and he felt his skin twitch at her touch but after a few moments the slight pain he had barely noticed among the other insults to his body diminished as she massaged Armand-in-Lila's waist lightly with her fingertips, from his navel round to above either hip where the obdurate steel belt had ridden all evening. "There, that's as far around as I can reach kiddo," she said, then she leaned over him. "Let's have a look at that bite on your lip now," She squinted, holding the lamp up and Armand-in-Lila looked up into her close face. Cute, he thought for a second, the smell of her freshly- washed hair as it fell into his face before she swept it back with her free hand, her concerned expression a relief in some undefinable way after the endless disasters of the previous days. He felt a sudden lust for her, a frustrated desire doubly intense because of his circumstances, his female body, his... Her fingertip touched his swollen lips and he reacted unthinkingly, primevally, raising his head as best he could to lick her fingers, mouth agape, his hips straining upwards, heels hard against the flagstones. "Ahhhh..." came from Vella then she turned abruptly, shadows flickering on the ceiling and the dim lamplight was extinguished leaving the two female figures, bound and unbound, in total darkness. Reduced to touch and sighs, a finger at Armand-in-Lila's lips demanded entrance and he sucked one finger in, then two massaging his tongue as the unfamiliar fires in his belly burst forth again, Vella's other hand busy at Armand's groin, knowledgeably tweaking and rubbing the fleshy alien nub, doubly virginal and hauntingly familiar under its red riding-hood then one finger suddenly went where no man had gone before... Armand-in-Lila stiffened as the invader slipped between moisture-slick membranes, a rough-edged fingernail causing a frisson of sensation laid over the dull pressure of simple flesh, then it twisted within and how he knew it twisted he couldn't tell but he shuddered and twisted likewise as much as he might in his bonds, his mouth gaping open silently as his other lips were parted by a second finger, compatriot to the ones still manipulating his tongue. ***She couldn't-*** then Vella's hot breath was on his right breast and his engorged nipple was sucked up into her mouth, a sensation of teeth titillating then her tongue was licking at the supernally sensitive nub while her fingers worked ceaselessly within his damp cavern, unknown muscles twitching to compress and massage the intruders. His hips strained to rise to the provocation, breath coming deeper and harder then Vella's weight shifted on him as she took her fingers from his mouth leaving him oddly unsatisfied even as her other hand pleasured him in a way he had never, of course, ever known before. Her legs straddled his head as she repositioned herself again, her belly pressing down on his saliva-slick breasts. "It's time to put that tongue of yours to work, girl." He lifted his head at the First Girl's command, his tongue darting out to engage her labia and track its way up to where her clitoris lurked under its own riding-hood, tasting the slick juices of her excitement and knowing that he was juicing in a similar manner himself where ***AAAH*** Vella's tongue was beginning its own reciprocal manoeuvres. Time stopped for a moment then flames burst behind his eyes as half- familiar half-alien sensations flared throughout his torso in a long rollercoaster, rising and falling as his body bucked within its bonds, muscles tightening and loosening uncontrollably as Vella slumped and shuddered on top of him, her animal grunts and actions driving him to ecstasy again and again... Lila stood in the corridor outside the cell, staring without seeing at the closed door as she shared faintly in the emotional tsunami pounding through Armand-in-Lila's brain via their mind link. She felt her breath quicken in sympathy, her breathing synchronising unconsciously with her true body lying chained in the cell. She jerked suddenly as the sensations spiked, knowing without knowing that Armand had bucked in ecstasy, hips thrusting high at exactly the same time. Her hand stole to the pouch at her waist and she reached in, her fingers finding the control egg and as the orgasmic fire peaked she stroked the silver button lightly, lightly, feeling through the link the redoubled sensations of sexual pleasure washing through Armand's mind as the Nest gag responded to the egg's command to reward the slave body it controlled. She breathed heavily, resisting the temptation to crush the button fully home and share in the explosion that must surely follow but... no. She had plans and they meant keeping her discreet use of the Nest gag's pleasure function a secret from Armand. That didn't mean, she reassured herself as she turned away somewhat unsteadily, that she couldn't enjoy the second-hand benefits of it when they were to be had. Time for bed in the tavern's guest quarters, and a girl for the night... she smiled again. He would ask Tisoch for Vella, she decided. She seemed the energetic type. Besides, and her grin widened at the thought, Sigmund Freud would have had a field day with the symbolism. Second-hand incest or remote-controlled masturbation? Hmmm... She needed to stop off in the kitchens first, then find Tisoch. Time to leave, before Vella finished up. It wouldn't do for her to be found out here. As Armand-in-Lila's breathing slowed, Vella's heavy flesh draped over his chest, squashing his breasts with her own as she wriggled into position, putting her head beside Armand's. He felt her nibble at his earlobe then lick his neck, their collars clinking together as the erotic geometry shifted, one of her hands stroking down the length of his pinioned arm to cup his left breast familiarly, possessively. She sighed as he turned to demand more with an open mouth ***Again! Again!*** but Vella levered herself up abruptly before rolling to one side leaving Armand suddenly bereft of her delicious weight. "Sorry, Amanda," she whispered. "No time, I've got to get back to the girls," Her finger touched Armand's lips. "Another night, perhaps." Although it was totally dark and she couldn't see his face, Vella sniggered. "Don't pout, girl," she admonished the disappointed Armand as she felt around for the small lamp. By the time she had it lit Armand had schooled his features as best he could but she still shook her finger at him. "You'll give us kajirae a bad name, incorrigible sluts they'll be calling us." Armand laughed silently at the schoolmarmish expression on her face as she tilted her head, a finger to her lips as if considering something. "Of course that's what they say about us anyway of course. Masters!" Vella got busy, wiping and cleaning -- "Destroying the evidence," she called it -- and five minutes later she knelt back, looking along Armand's outstretched body with the air of a job well done. Fresh ointment covered the scrapes around his waist to replace the original cream that had gotten inexplicably wiped away somehow and more ointment put on the bitemarks on Armand's puffy lip. Vella had even reapplied his lipstick, to help cover up the mark a bit she said, and redressed his hair somewhat, reclaiming the wooden combs that had held it in place for the evening. "You can't sleep wearing them after all. Stupid Master." She nodded, picked up the basket and went to stand up as Armand blinked wearily at her, wishing somehow she could stay with him but knowing he was exhausted and ready to fall asleep in an instant when she left. "Ah, one last thing," she said as she straightened Armand's White Silks between his widely-split thighs. She leaned over and kissed his forehead as a mother might kiss a sleepy child in bed. "Nighty night, girl." As she closed the door behind her and shot the bolt he realised that she had called him "Amanda".