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This story is based on the "Chronicles of Gor" novels written by John Norman. I claim no rights to these characters, ideas or specifics listed here. This story is a work of fan fiction. Chapter One Third Hand, Fourth Day of the Month of Se'Kara Present Day I lay my head to the sand, the silk and bells still moving from the breeze. My body was covered in sweat, heart racing. All around me, I could hear thunderous noise; men slapping their shoulders in approval. I dare not lift my head until ordered to. After all, I was only a slave. "Was she not wonderful, my friends?" a man yelled, walking next to me in the sand pit. The noise grew louder, followed by yelling from the men in attendance. "Be sure to pay you two copper tarsks for the pleasure of her company. We will draw from the lottery in 2 Ehn. Nadu, Tana." I rose to my knees, spread apart, back straight, head down. The position of the pleasure slave. "Is she not beautiful...exquisite in her silks and collar?" The men continued to slap their shoulders with the hands. Men began to throw coins to the sand before me. I looked up at the man next to me, he nodded and I began to collect them and place them in the silks around my waist. A slave must never touch coins unless a Master allows it. I quickly scooped up the coins, counting them to myself. I knew that Master would keep track of how many were being thrown to me. Any missing coins would result in my hand being cut off or worse. Once I was finished, I left the room, kneeling in the hallway. Farvus arrived and looked down at me. He was the manager, for lack of a better term. He ran the tavern, making sure everything was as it was supposed to be. I was well aware of his eyes roaming over my body as the men in the tavern did earlier. I blushed. It still took a little getting used to. "Rise," he said. I stood up, holding the silk with my fingertips. He ran his hands through the pile of coins and smiled. He began taking them out and placing them in a small sack on his belt. I kept my head down so as not to look at him. A slave girl is at the mercy of her Masters and must do as they command. "You did very well today." "Thank you, Master," I replied, blushing just a bit. I had been dancing here for some time. I never thought I was that good, compared to the other girls, but he told me otherwise. "When I am finished," he continued, "you will come with me to see Portous." I nodded. "Yes, Master." I shuddered. Portous was the Tavern Master of the Slave Bells, the tavern where I now worked. He could be a kind Master or a cruel Master. It depended very much on his mood. Lately, he seemed cross with his paga slaves. Just yesterday, I watched him beat one of the girls merely because she had dared to look at him as he walked by. I waited patiently for Farvus to finish. "Leading position," he said. I leaned into his hand, allowing him to grab my hair, then rose and headed towards Master's office. The door was closed with a small metal sign on the front. I could read some of the writing, one of the girls was helping me with my studies. It is a fact that most barbarian slaves are illiterate. He knocked at the door as I kneeled quietly. "Enter!" The voice boomed through the wood of the door, nearly shaking the rafters. Farvus opened the door and I, still in leading position, entered before him. Portous was a large man, slovenly, with a huge brown beard and dirty, long wavy hair. He always seemed to have something in his beard; bread, paga that spilled from his goblet or worse. And he smelled. But it didn't matter. He was my Master and there was nothing I could do about it. "I've brought the slave girl, as you requested," Farvus replied. He stopped and I quickly kneeled before him, head down, knees exposed, in the position of the pleasure slave. I didn't know what he wanted me for. It was better to be prepared for anything. Portous was writing something in a book. He looked up quickly, spotted me and waved his hand to Farvus. Farvus nodded and left the room. Portous went back to his writing, ignorning me. I knelt there quietly. A slave is not permitted to speak unless their Master allows it. If I did, my tongue could be cut out. He took a bite out of a piece of Sar- tarna break and slurped his paga. My head was still down but I could imagine that small pieces of the bread were stuck in his massive beard. He cleared his throat and put down the quill. I heard the chair move back from the desk and could hear his feet coming down the small stairs before his desk. "Ah, Tana," he said, as if my presence there was a surprise. "I heard you did very well in the dance tonight." "Thank you, Master," I replied. "Tana wishes to be pleasing." Master wishes that his slaves talk about themselves in the third person. He laughed, rightly so. I would be pleasing whether I wished it or not. He sat down on another small chair a few about 10 horts from me. "Tower, Tana," he said. I changed my position so that my knees were closer together. This seemed unusual to me. Most men I've seen have preferred the Nadu position, with knees spread. "You have seemed very sad lately, Tana," he continued, taking another sip of the paga. I looked up, a confused look on my face. I had never heard of a Master caring about the feelings of his slaves. "Master?" I asked. He laughed. "You think because you are slave, that I should not care for your feelings, hmm?" he said, as if able to read my thoughts. "Well, you are property. I care that you are well as I would care for a pet sleen who could not track or a vulo unable to lay eggs. A Master CAN care for their slaves." He stood up, glaring at me. I quickly put my head down. "To my boots, girl." I quickly fell to my stomach, crawling across the floor and kissed his boots. He had not washed in some time and the stench almost made me throw up. A slave girl must do as she is commanded...no matter what. "But you must still remember that you are only a slave." Portous laughed then pulled his foot away. "Tower," he commanded. I returned to the Tower position. "As I said, you seem very sad lately. Are you not happy here?" I stopped and looked up slowly. "May a slave speak, Master?" He nodded. I looked up at him a bit more. I could see the pieces of bread in his beard, as I suspected. "As Master knows, Tana is a barbarian slave." He nodded again. A barbarian slave is one that is not born on Gor, but brought over from Earth. "Tana has been missing her family lately, Master. She feels that they may be worried about what happened to her. That is all. If I have not been pleasing, This slave would ask that she be whipped." I lowered my head again. Portous laughed heartily. "You have been very pleasing, Tana. You have helped bring a great deal of coins to our tavern." He walked over to a small desk, removing paper and quill and placed them on a small table. "I have methods to allow information to be sent to your world. You may write your tale to your family and I will see that it gets delivered." I looked up, tears in my eyes. "May a slave ask why, Master, that you would do this for her?" He smiled. "Consider it a reward." He gestured towards the chair. "Begin now. You have 2 Ahn before the lottery is completed. You may write during free time, when you are not serving or dancing. See that this does not interfere with your duties." I quickly stood up and sat on the chair. In all my time, no Master has ever allowed me to be seated this way. The cushion was soft and the material felt wonderful against my skin. He pushed the items closer to me and stepped out of the room. "I will have Farvus come for you when it is time," he replied, as he walked out of the room. I picked up the quill and examined it. The story would have to be in English, I thought. I dipped the quill in the ink, watching as it dripped back into the container. I placed it on the edge of the paper and began to write a letter. A letter that I never thought I would be able to do. "Dear Mom and Dad." I put the quill down, shaking my head. What could I possibly say to them? That I've been abducted by aliens from a planet in our solar system? That I'm now a slave girl at the mercy of men? They'll think I'm crazy or worse, not believe that it's actually from me. I picked it up again and took a deep breath. Short and sweet, I thought "Dear Mom and Dad, I am writing this letter to let you know that I am safe. Please don't worry about me. I am being well cared for. This will probably be our only contact, as I don't know if I'll ever be able to see you again. Mom and Dad, things are very very complicated. Just believe that everything I say here is true and that I love you and miss you both very much." I took another deep breath. "Love Your Son, Harold" Chapter Two Thursday, The Twenty Third of June Three Years Ago My name is Harold McMaster. I'm 25 years old and work in a small accounting firm in Philadelphia. I'm not what you might call the best looking guy in the world, far from it. Short, with glasses and a small paunch from too much fast food, flat feet and ears that people tell me are just slightly too big for my head. My job is pretty boring. It's very busy from January through April, but after that we're all fighting for whatever work we can get our hands on. So I spent a lot of time surfing the net and playing computer games. I don't have too many friends here. Everyone kind of keeps in their groups; the partners in their big offices, the juniors in their cubes, the guys who talk about sports or the women who talk about shopping or their husbands or boyfriends. I didn't fit into any of those categories, so I just kept to myself. I ate lunch at my desk, listening to the radio or reading an online magazine. One of my favorite things is to cook. I spent many nights in the small kitchen in my apartment, listening to music and making meals for myself. I sometimes think that's where all the trouble started. That night, I had come home from another uneventful day at work. I stopped quickly at the market to pick up a few things; chicken, tomatoes, some spices. I put the chicken into a skillet and began to brown it. I put some music on through my tablet and I danced in the kitchen as I cooked. I sang and danced, feeling slightly like one of those silly 1960's go- go dancers. My eyes were closed, moving to music and singing the words that I knew of the song. "HA!" I sang, holding the spoon up like a microphone. Spinning around, I saw three men standing silently in my kitchen. I jumped, dropping the spoon and moving against the counter near the sink. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?" I yelled. One man spoke to another. I couldn't understand what he was saying. Another man laughed, looking at me. "What did he say?" I demanded. My voice was shaky. Each of these men had to be at least six feet tall and built like a football player. "He said that I was right about you being able to dance," he replied, laughing again. I could smell the chicken burning on the skillet. I picked up the spoon and held it out, trying to defend myself. "I...I said get out of here!" The one of the men walked over slowly. He wore sunglasses but even behind them, I could see the command in his eyes. I shook hard. I was very afraid. He easily grabbed the spoon, snapped it in half, then backhanded me across the face. I hit the floor and tasted the blood in my mouth. I felt tears in my eyes. He reached up and turned off the stove. "He seems a typical man of Earth, isn't he?" The third man continued, wiping his stained hand on one of my kitchen towels. "Please don't hurt me," I said. "You can have whatever you want." "What we want," the first man replied, slowly taking steps towards me. "Is YOU." "ME?" I exclaimed, my voice squeaking. "What...what do you want with me?" "That will all be explained in time," The man replied. He said something again in that language I didn't understand and the other two men grabbed me by each arm, holding me tight. I struggled in vain to free myself. They laughed. I could see a needle in the first man's hand. "Throw him to the floor on his belly and tie his legs," he said, still holding it. The two men, quickly, expertly, threw me to the floor of my kitchen and using some twine, tied my ankles together and then tied my arms behind my back, crossed at the wrists. I struggled vainly. There was no way for me to break free. The first man ripped my shirt sleeve and injected me with the cold fluid. "All will be explained to you in short time," he concluded. My body felt heavy. I fought to keep conscious, but it was useless. The three spoke in the unknown language as I felt myself being lifted and placed into a large van. This was stronger than any anesthetic that I had ever had and in a few minutes, I was out cold. Chapter Three Monday, The Fifth of December Two and a Half Years Ago My eyes opened slowly. The light above my head was bright enough that I had to blink several times before I could see. My mouth was dry. I licked my lips and tried to moisten them. I was in a fog. Was it all a dream? I remember the three men in my kitchen. I couldn't move my wrists. I pulled harder and felt the cold metal against my skin. I blinked again, trying to clear my head. I lifted up as far as my neck would allow. I was naked. My ankles were bound the same way as my wrists. No. It wasn't a dream. "HELP!! HELP!! SOMEONE LET ME OUT OF HERE!!" Silence. "IS ANYONE OUT THERE? ANYONE?? PLEASE!!!" I struggled again against the chains. They wouldn't budge. I lay my head back, defeated. How the hell did I get into this?? I stayed still for a few moments running the previous....day's...week's...events in my mind. The three men...bound hand and foot...injected with a needle. A moment later, I heard the door open. I wasn't able to see it from the angle where I was laying. I struggled to move, twisting and turning. I felt a small hand on my shoulder. "Stay still, Mr. McMaster." She looked over me, her blond hair falling below her shoulders. "You'll only hurt yourself," he voice still sounded faint. "Please...where am I? What are they going to do to me?" She giggled. In any other circumstance, it would sound sexy. "I don't have any information, but the doctor will be right in." She tapped my shoulder again. "Now, don't you go running off," she replied, giggling again at her own joke. "Let me out. Please. I won't tell anyone what happened. Please, Miss," I continued. I knew she could hear the desperation in my voice. Before she could answer, the door opened again and I could hear footsteps coming towards me. The girl moved to the side and a large bald head entered my view. The man looked down at me, adjusted his glasses and backed away. "Good, you're awake," he replied. There was a slight accent in his voice but I couldn't place it. He moved down and came into my view. I suddenly remembered the girl and being naked. I blushed horribly. The doctor laughed. "Miss Criswell, would you please prepare the equipment?" He said. She nodded and walked towards a number of pieces of machinery against the far wall. I could see the top of her white stockings as she passed. I felt myself getting aroused. "Oh....Doctor...please....please, let me go," I whined. I could feel my body shaking. I wanted him to see how desperate I was. I felt like I was going to cry. "Now, now Harold. You have nothing to worry about," he replied, adjusting his glasses again. "This is a relatively painless procedure.... although-" He paused. "Well...We've never tried it on a man before." He shrugged his shoulders. "Live and learn, I suppose," he began to hum as he helped the nurse set up the equipment. The door opened again and another figure entered the room. I couldn't see who it was but I felt a shiver run up my spine as he came close. He leaned in and whispered in my ear. "You danced divinely. You will look well in your collar," he whispered, laughing. I couldn't help the tears flowing from my eyes. It was him.... one of the men from my apartment. "Let me out. Please...I won't tell anyone what you're doing," I exclaimed. He moved into my view. He wore the same black suit and sunglasses that he wore that same night. "And what, pre-tell, are we doing?" he replied. I was silent. I didn't know. In fact, I had no idea. He noticed my expression and laughed. "That's what I thought." I lay there quietly, watching him move. The nurse and doctor were finishing setting up the equipment. A large machine was pushed next to my head I felt like something was being attached to me. "Can you tell me where I am, please. How long have I been here?" I asked. The doctor looked at me, absently. "I have no idea. I only come in at the end of the procedure." He shrugged his shoulders again and went back to his machines. "As for where you are," the man from my apartment continued, "that is not important. But if you must know, today is December 8th." I lay back. It was summer when I arrived. "You've been here for about....oh, six months," he finished. My eyes opened wide. "Six...Six MONTHS??" I yelled. He nodded, laughing again. The nurse walked over. She had a large bit in her hand. It seemed like something that electrotherapy patients would put in their mouth..or at least, movies that I'd seen where people got shock therapy. "Open your mouth, please," the nurse said. I looked at her desperately. The man walked over quickly and slapped me. "Must an order be repeated?" he yelled. It took me by surprise and I opened my mouth quickly to avoid another strike. She placed a bit in my mouth and told me to bite down. The man leaned over to within a few inches of my face. "This is the first lesson that you must learn, Kajira," he said hissing. Kajira? What the hell is that? Sounds like some kind of forest animal. "And if you spit that out, you will be punished again." He walked back a bit, taking a chair and sitting down. "Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajira...it could get you whipped," he finished. "But, we do owe you some kind of explanation. Have you ever heard of a place called Gor?" I shook my head. I had never heard of any place like that, but I'm an accountant not a master of geography. The buzzing around my head got louder. I began to panic again. I looked around at the machines, then back at the man. "It is a planet in the same orbit as this one on the other side of the sun. It's a very different society. Men are warriors...strong and fearless. Women are slaves." He sat back in a chair and continued. "It is said that there was a war between men and women. And that the women lost. So, the Priest Kings not wishing the women to be killed made the beautiful. But the price of this gift was that the women and their daughters until the end of time would be the slaves of men," he looked at the nurse, who blushed harshly. The man smiled. "It is a wondrous place to be a man," He stood up again and walked over to the nurse, touching her neck softly with the back of his fingers. "You would look exquisite in a collar, girl," he said to her. She blushed again and the doctor cleared his throat. The man turned back to him, smiled and went to sit back down. "We are going to turn you into a slave, Harold. A FEMALE slave." My eyes opened wide. I started to protest but remembered the slap across the face and thought better of it. "THAT is all you need to know, Kajira," he said. The doctor walked back over into my line of sight. He brushed what was left of his hair with is hand, fixed his glasses yet again and looked to me. I'm sure I was crying. "Well, um...yes. And since you've been here we've had you under heavy sedation and been pumping you full of female hormones. In order for this machine to do its job, there has to be as little resistance with your body chemistry as possible. We've, uh, removed your testicles to block the flow of testosterone in your system. In fact, you have the beginnings of some very lovely breasts." He laughed nervously. I thought for sure I was going to throw up. I moaned into the bit. "This machine behind you will be attached to a chip that we implanted in your skull a few weeks ago. It contains tiny nanobots that will help to change your appearance. No one will ever know that you were once male." "It, uh, also comes with a 'Plan B, just in case," he stated rather matter of factly. I looked at him. Plan B, I thought. He must have sensed the confusion in my eyes. He laughed, tapping me on the shoulder. "No need for you to worry about that. It's only used as a last resort." He cleared his throat again, fixing his glasses one more time. "As I said, we've done this procedure plenty of times on women. It's easy to use their chemistry to adjust their physical appearance. We've never done it to change someone's gender, but...we'll see how things go." The nurse flipped a few switches and I heard the machine buzz and hum. "I wanted you to be awake," the man from my apartment said, "so that you can see exactly what is going to happen to you." The doctor walked to my head again. I felt him adjusting something. "All right, Miss Criswell," he said. Suddenly the room began to spin. I could see bright lights and heard a whirring sound in my ears. I screamed but my sounds were muffled by the bit in my mouth. The shocks quickly ran through my arms and torso, down my legs and even between them. I stiffened in my restraints, feeling the metal ripping into my skin. I closed my eyes for a few moments, trying to keep from passing out. "Things should clear in a moment," I heard the doctor yell over the machine. As he said, a moment later the lights dimmed and the hum of the machine died down. I started to breathe easier. I looked down at my body. There were no changes. I smiled through the bit. Maybe the change didn't work. Maybe they'll let me out and I can go home. "Phase two, Miss Criswell," the doctor said. I heard another switch being flipped and the hum became louder. A dull pain, like when your foot falls asleep, flowed through my body. The tingling became concentrated in various parts of my body. I looked down to my chest. It felt itchy. The small breasts, MY small breasts, began to grow...starting with the nipples, getting larger and harder, then the breasts from there grew out like a plant would. More like cantaloupes. No, like watermelons. I could feel the weight of them on my body, pressing me down. I looked at my arms, they were becoming thinner. My fingers were becoming thinner as well and the nails grew quickly out from my fingertips. I couldn't see my legs but could feel the same thing happening to them. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to know what was happening between my legs. My tiny cock tingled and pulsed. I could feel it shrinking. The area between my legs tingled more. I could tell it was gone; I didn't even have to look. The last place was my head, neck and face. It felt like someone was sticking small pins into my skull. I squinted in and tried to see what was happening. I closed my eyes again. I started to cry. I prayed that this would be over quickly. I secretly hoped it would kill me. The machine whirred down. It seemed like an eternity. "Phase three, Miss Criswell," the doctor said. "Faise Free??!" I screamed through the bit. My eyes filled with tears. How much longer could this go on? He laughed. "This won't be quite as bad, um, pain wise," The doctor said. "What we're doing is filling your head with information that you'll need when you get to...um, where you're going. You might feel a bit dizzy and nauseous." He laughed nervously again as the nurse pulled the last lever. My mind immediately thought of the old Frankenstein movies; the doctor would yell...'Pull the last lever...No, not the last lever...pull it I tell you!!' I felt my mind being flooded; pictures, words, all flowing uninhibited into my brain. I tried to comprehend it all. As quickly as I processed it, something else took its place. Eventually, I leaned back and let it all flow in. It was amazing. There was so much information, so many things to learn. I actually felt myself smiling. "I think we're finished, sir," the doctor stated. A moment later, I heard some switches flip and the machine began to whir down. Slowly, the noises became quieter and the tingling in my head subsided. I breathed heavily. I became aware again of the bit sticking out of my mouth. "Open your mouth again, please," the nurse said. I did as she asked and she took the bit out of my mouth. I opened and closed my jaw, loosening it up. I looked up. She was smiling at me. Her hand brushed against my soft hair. I didn't notice how long they made it. "You look beautiful." She said. I smiled back at her. She began to undo the cuffs around my wrists and ankles. "Now, you're going to be very weak and groggy for a while. And your center of balance will be a bit off. So let us help you up and take you to your room to rest, ok?" I nodded. I opened my mouth to try to speak, but the doctor stopped me. "Your vocal chords are still adjusting," he said. The doctor and the man from my apartment put their arms out and helped me off the table. I noticed how large my breasts actually were. It seemed that the watermelon comparison was a bit exaggerated, but they were definitely large C cups. I slid down from the table to the floor, realizing that it was a farther drop than I expected. I tumbled forward but the two of them caught me. I reached up to brush my long, red hair out from my face. I could tell it was wavy and very soft. I tried to move my hands to cover my breasts, but they had too strong a grip on my arms. I took small steps, trying to keep my balance. It took me a good 20 feet before I could walk without having to completely hang on to them. They held on to me anyway...helping to keep me steady. As we walked, I noticed that I was being stared at. I was sure that a naked woman in a place like this was something they don't see very often. The doctor opened the door and the man helped me to the bed. The room was bare except for the bed. I flopped down, feeling my breasts jiggle as I hit the bed. "You will rest, Kajira," the man said, "And we will begin your training soon. Is that clear?" The way he spoke these words were different than how he spoke before. It seemed foreign to me, yet I was able to completely understand it. "Did you understand that?" the man asked. I nodded slowly, still unable to speak. "Good. The chip gave you a working knowledge of the Gorean language. Consider yourself lucky, Kajira. Most slaves have to learn it quickly when they arrive or be beaten." He laughed. I shuddered again. He turned and left the room. "Uh, rest up," the doctor said, watching our exchange. I don't think he understood what was said earlier. "We'll check on you in a day or so." The doctor left and I looked around the room. It was empty except for the bed, a small dresser and a full length mirror. I leaned up. My breasts still felt heavy. I was foggy from the medication, but managed to slide out of the bed. I also realized that I was shorter than I was before. I turned to the large mirror against the wall and stared at the body looking back at me. She was stunning...Long red hair flowing in waves down her chest and back, huge firm breasts and a voluptuous body. I stepped slowly towards the mirror. The reality of my situation finally hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a woman...a sexy, vibrant looking woman..one that I would have killed to be with. My hand went to her...MY hair. I touched it and the girl in the mirror did the same thing. It was soft and shined, the small amount of light in the room reflected off it. My eyes were clear and the brightest green that I had ever seen. Her pert nose and sensuous, deep red lips struck my attention next. I moved my lips in various expression and, of course, she did the same. I could imagine myself, still as a man, lying on top of her watching as she made these cute little movements of her lips begging me to take her...harder and faster. "Ohhhhh..." I said. I watched the face of the girl in the mirror as she said it, my brain struggling to comprehend it. Her voice was like silk.... "Oh, Harold.....you make me sooooooo hoooot...mmmmmm." I felt my knees buckle at those words, almost falling to the floor. I pouted a few more times, moaning again, breathing heavy at the reflection staring back at me. I placed my finger on my lips, making a 'shhhh' pose. The effect was incredible. My small hands went down from my lips, down my body. I couldn't believe that this was MY body now. Thoughts raced...different emotions flowed through me. 'This can't be me...but....look at her. So sexy...' I thought. 'No...focus! Listen to me...they turned YOU into a woman.' 'But...look at her. She's...I'M amazing!' I touched my breasts with both hands...my fingertips sliding around the outside of my nipple then along the sides and underside. I gripped them firmly, feeling their weight. I moaned again. My hands pushed and squeezed on them, each move adding to my excitement. The skin was smooth and soft as well as I moved the hands down my stomach to my..... "Well, enjoying yourself?" I turned around quickly. The man from my apartment was standing in the small hallway, watching me. I never heard him come in...he moved catlike across the room. I tried desperately, and in vain, to cover my naked body with my small hands. He walked over and roughly pulled my hands away from my body, holding both my wrists with one hand. "Modesty is not permitted to slave girls" he said in Gorean. I shuddered again. I contemplated struggling against him in an attempt to free myself, but the grip on my wrists were like a vice. There was no way I could get free. He smiled, looking at us both in the mirror. He touched my neck softly with his fingertips. "You also will look exquisite in your collar, slave." The doctor came into the room quickly followed by his nurse. "Leave her," he said. "She just finished the procedure and needs to rest." The man stared at the doctor, his eyes red with rage. A moment later, he turned back and released my arm. "You will not touch your body, Kajira," he whispered in my ear, in English this time. "That pleasure will belong to your Master." He exited the room, purposely bumping into the doctor's shoulder throwing him back a few inches. He rubbed his shoulder and lifted his arm. "Are you all right?" he asked me. I nodded and blushed, realizing again that I was naked. "May...May I have a robe?" I asked. The voice sent shivers down my spine. The nurse went to get a robe, but the doctor stopped her. "No. Your...um, friend has not allowed you clothing, dear," he replied. I nodded. The nurse took my hand and led me back to the bed. I climbed under the covers. "I'll come back and check your vitals and you can have some lunch," The doctor said. "But please, you need to rest. No more getting out of bed, ok?" I smiled at them and nodded. "Whatever you say, Doctor," I purred. He smiled nervously. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way." I blushed again. "It's...completely fine, my dear," he replied. "Your voice was the one thing that I was concerned about with the nanobots. It seemed to have worked perfectly," he pulled the covers up to my neck. My huge breasts lay like two mountains underneath. "Just rest. I'll be back in a bit." He nodded to his nurse and they both left the room. I lay there under the covers, my mind finally clearing, trying to understand what happened to me. I scooted up and saw the girl in the mirror again. I smiled and she smiled back at me. "It's going to be all right, sugar," she said. I nodded and she did too. Yes, I thought, it's going to be all right. Chapter Four Sunday, The Fifth of February Two Years and Four Months Ago "She has been resting enough, Doctor." I blinked my eyes. The winter sky was bright and I could see that snow was falling quickly on the ground. "We have to make sure the nanobots have taken hold," the doctor replied. "Four months has been the requisite...." "I am on a time frame, DOC-TOR," he interrupted. I recognized the voice finally as the man from my apartment. "I don't have two more months to wait. I must begin training if I to get her to the block in time. I have already wasted enough time and money." The door burst open and the man pushed into the room. "Get out of bed you lazy she-urt!" he yelled in Gorean. I immediately leaped out bed, almost falling on the floor. I was naked. I had not been allowed any clothes since I arrived here. "It is time you began your training!" For the past two months, I had been poked and prodded by doctors and nurses to make sure that all the changes took hold and that I was healthy. They took blood and gave me various tests. It was exhausting. I hadn't seen the man from my apartment in all that time. I assumed that he forgot about me, obviously I was wrong. "I must protest," the doctor said. The man turned to him, eyes glaring again. He pulled a dagger from his belt. "We can settle this with steel, doctor," he replied, holding the knife out. The doctor stood, frozen. His nurse screamed. "Shut the door!" he yelled to the nurse, She quickly turned and slammed the door. He turned his attention back to the doctor. "Your usefulness is ended. Weak and pathetic are the men of your planet. You can stay and learn or you can leave..." He turned back to me. I shook standing there. The power in his voice and presence was overwhelming. "Kneel," he commanded in Gorean. I slowly sank to my knees. The floor felt cold on my legs. "Your first lesson, girl." He took a large steel collar out of his bag. I could see the metal glistening against the morning sun. "Do you see this?" I nodded. "This is your collar." He turned it. The light continued to reflect off of it. I could see some writing on it, but was unable to see if from the distance. "One of its purposes is to express your slavery upon you." I looked up at him, my head tilted. "Slavery?" I asked, slowly enunciating each syllable. He had said something about that during the operation. I had forgotten about it. He laughed, throwing his head back. His entire body shook. "Of course. Do you think we did this for fun?" he replied. He leaned down, holding the collar in his hands. "Lift up your chin, girl." I shook a bit. I wanted to stand up and run. Slavery. The word continued to rattle around in my head. I slowly lifted my head. I watched as his hands took the collar around my neck. I felt the cold metal against my throat and heard the click of the lock. He let go and the weight pressed against the base of my neck. Tears welled up in my eyes and I began to cry. He smiled. "You are a slave girl," he said, matter of factly. I knelt there in disbelief. "La Kajira. Say it." "La Kajira," I repeated. "Remember that. It may save your life," he said. I hung my head. I had been collared and been made a slave. It doesn't seem possible. I tried to remind myself that I was Harold McMaster, an accountant from Philadelphia, not a small, blond slave girl kneeling on a cold floor in front of a man who was now my Master. There must be some way out, some means of escape. I reached up and touched the cool metal of the collar. I ran my fingers across the front, feeling the letters that had been etched on to it. "I...I can't do this!" I screamed in English, forgetting for a moment how girly my voice sounded. "You have to let me go," I slid my finger between my neck and the collar pulling furiously. "Please....Please let me go." His smile changed to anger and I felt the back of his hand hit me. I was knocked to the floor, my head hitting the tiles. There was no time to react. He grabbed my hair, pulling me back to my knees. My hands reached for his wrists, holding them tightly as he moved my body. He moved his face close to mine, speaking in Gorean again. "You will do...exactly...what I tell you to. Is that clear?" I tasted the blood in my mouth from his slap. "Yes...yes..." I screamed again. "Yes....MASTER," he corrected. I paused. Another strike hit my face. The pain was excruciating. "Yes...Master," I said. I could taste more blood in my mouth and felt it drip on my body as I spoke. He let go of my hair and I fell to my hands and knees. He stood over me, his hands across his chest. "I will be lenient on you because you are a new slave. For a remark like that, you could be whipped," he walked over to the closet and opened a small duffel bag. From it, he pulled out a whip. I slid backwards a few inches. He walked towards me and sat in a chair, playing with it, uncoiling the strands. "This is a gorean slave whip," he said, matter of factly again. "As you can see, it has five strands." He cracked it in the air in front of him. I jumped. "It is very effective in training slaves," he pulled out the strands as someone would unpin a girl's hair from a bun. I stared at it. "It is said that it is good for a slave to feel the whip." He stood up. "On your hands and knees again, slave." I watched him walk over to me. I knelt there, frozen. "Must an order be repeated, girl?" he asked, cracking the whip over my head. I screamed and quickly got on my hands and knees. I shook as I saw his feet walking around my body. The coils of the whip were being draped across my body. I could feel how thick they were. I looked up for a moment, he growled. "Head down, slave," he yelled. I quickly put my head down. He continued to tease me with the whip. I wasn't sure if I could hold this position much longer. The anticipation of the stroke was driving me crazy. He lifted the whip off my body and brought the lashes down with a hard crack. I immediately fell to my belly on the floor. The pain from the lash sent waves of agony through my entire body. He hit me again. I buried my face in my hands as he struck me a third time. I could feel the heat coming off my body, my screams filling my ears. I heard him walk away and then sit in the chair across the room. "And that was not even at full strength, girl," he said. I lifted my head up. I felt the tears running down my cheeks. "Now, you will thank me for teaching you the whip." "Th....thank you...M...Master for teaching me the whip," I said, stuttering. "Who thanks Master?" he asked. I stopped. "This girl thanks Master," he finished. "This....this girl thanks Master for teaching her the whip," I said. My body still shook from the blows but I managed to stop crying. "Very good. If you misbehave or are not pleasing, you may find yourself under the whip again, girl," he said. "Now on your belly, crawl to me and kiss my feet." I moved slowly across the room, my body still shaking from the lashes of the whip. I saw that he was not wearing traditional shoes. These were sandals with ties across the top. I cautiously moved close to him, my lips touching the shoes. I hesitantly kissed his feet, unsure of exactly what was expected of me. "No!" he shouted. I cowered back a bit. He smiled. "Go back to where you were. You will crawl here more sensuously," I moved back to where I was. I lay there for a minute, fear gripping me. 'What if I did it badly', I thought. I closed my eyes and thought of one of those "adult" movies I loved so much. I pictured some actress on her stomach, crawling across the floor towards a man. I took a deep breath and looked at him again. I could see that he was not pleased. He played with the whip again and I feared he wouldn't hesitate on using it on me again. "Come, girl," he said. I lay down on my belly, stretching my hand in front of me. I used them as if they were pulling me towards him on an unseen rope. I slid my body across the floor, rubbing myself against the cool tiles. My body ached as I moved, nipples rubbing against the floor and I could feel myself becoming aroused. My instincts began taking over and by the time I'd reached him, I felt very different. I opened my eyes and saw his foot in front of me. I leaned my head down and kissed it, tenderly, moving my lips up and down the top of his foot and along the sides. I purred quietly, although I don't know why. He laughed, pulling his foot away for me. For a moment, my heart sank. I looked up at him with sad eyes. "You are a natural slave. I knew it from the moment I saw you dancing in your apartment," I blushed. "Do you agree?" he asked. "I...I don't know..." I said, quickly adding, "Master." "You are," he finished. "Kneel...Nadu," he said. I pulled myself up to my knees and looked up at him. He grabbed the whip again and sat back on the chair. "Back on your heels. Knees wide," he yelled. I did as I was told. "Wider, slut," he yelled. I blushed and forced my knees open wider. "Place your hands on your thighs, palms up. Straighten your back." I tried to do as he commanded. My body didn't want to move in that position. He stood up. "I said Straighten your back, girl." He pressed the whip handle into my spine. I yelped quietly. "Belly in...breasts out. Come on, girl!" he yelled, swatting my stomach and my breasts with the whip handle again. I struggled to hold the position. My body was aching. "Lastly, head down in deference and submission." I lowered my head. I could feel the collar against my chin. It quickly reminded me of what I was. He stepped back and sat down again. "Eh...better," he said. "THIS is the position that I want you in when I enter a room. It is the position of the Pleasure Slave." My eyes opened wide. I looked up, but noticed him staring back at me. I looked back down." "Ppp...Pleasure slave, Master?" I asked. He cracked the whip again. "Did I give you permission to speak?" he asked. "No, Master." "Then you will keep quiet," he finished. "A slave must ask permission to speak." I knelt there quietly again. I could sense that he was smiling. "Can I speak, Master?" "No. The correct statement is 'May a slave speak'?" "Yes, Master," I took a deep breath. "May a slave speak, Master?" "Yes." "Pleasure slave, Master?" I repeated. "Yes, that is what you are. A slave who will be used to give pleasure to men," he replied. "I....I..." I stuttered again. "There is nothing to say, girl. That is why you were changed. That is why you look.," he paused, licking his lips..."the way that you do. Men will pay a great deal for a trained pleasure slave," I looked up cautiously. The tears flowed from my eyes again. "Now..stand and then kneel again," he said. I stood up slowly and knelt as he commanded. I could tell that he was pleased. "You will practice that later this evening," he said, standing up. "You shall not move until commanded to do so," he left the room for a moment. I stayed where I was but noticed the large mirror against the wall again. I turned my head slightly so that I could see my reflection. It was amazing. My long red hair flowed across my breasts and my body looked incredible. I could see why men wanted women to kneel before them this way. My thoughts were broken by the door opening again. I quickly put my head down, in deference as he had said. A small bowl was placed before me. It looked like oatmeal with pieces of meat in it. "Eat," he said. I reached down to pick the bowl up. "Not like that," he said. I stopped. He picked it up and placed it on his lap. "Come over here, girl. Stay in position." I moved a bit closer to him. "Lift your head and open your mouth." I did as he commanded. I watched as he picked up a piece of meat and shoved it into my mouth. I thought I was going to choke. "Chew," he said. I chewed it up and swallowed. He laughed, stirring the contents. Slowly, he picked up another piece of meat and shoved it into my mouth. The meat was tasty, sort of like chicken. I chewed it and swallowed again. "Keep your mouth open between feedings," he said. I knelt there, looking at him, mouth open like a fish. Another piece was shoved in my mouth. "This is called 'Slave Gruel'," he said. "When we arrive at Gor, it will be your main staple of food," I nodded, still chewing the piece of meat. "Do you wish water?" I swallowed. "Please, Master." He nodded and picked up a large pouch. "Head back," I tilted my head back and he poured water into my mouth. I drank as best I could but choked on a bit of it and it dripped out of my mouth and on my body. He laughed again. "Very good, Kajira," he said. The bowl was placed back on the floor. "You will continue eating but you will not use your hands. Is that clear?" I coughed, trying to clear the end of the water out of it. "Yes, Master," I said. He nodded and sat back in the chair. I looked at the Slave Gruel. Kneeling down farther, I began to eat it like a dog would, taking large bites of the gruel and swallowing it. I could feel it getting on my face and in my hair. Master laughed a few times watching me eat. I felt humiliated. "This is done by Masters to enforce the centrality of your position, girl," he said as I ate. "It is to teach you....exactly....what you are. Do you know what you are?" I nodded again. He pulled me up by my hair. My face was covered in gruel. "I do not understand nodding, girl. Tell me that you understand," he said. "Yes, Master!" I screamed. "La Kajira, Master," I said. He let go of my hair and I then went back to finish eating. When the food was nearly gone, he dropped a piece of yellow bread into the bowl. "You may use your fingers with the bread to get the remaining food from the bowl." "Thank you, Master," I said. I knelt back up. This time, my knees were slightly more together, which made it easier to steady the bowl. I took the small piece of bread between my shaking fingers and sopped up the remaining food. The bread was crunchy and tasted very good. When I had finished the bread, he took the bowl away from me, putting it on the table. I knelt back again as I was, waiting for his command. He wiped my face with the back of my hair. "Dance," he commanded. I knelt there, nervously. "Master?" "That day...in your apartment...while you were cooking....you danced. Dance for me, Kajira," he replied. I thought back. That day in the apartment, Harold danced. "There is no music, Master," I replied. He jumped up, grabbing the whip again. "DANCE!" he yelled. I stood up. My mind raced back to that day, eight months ago. I was so carefree back then. The worst thing I had to worry about was that I forgot to record my favorite television program. I continued to think back to my old life, Harold's life. What song was on that night? I began to hum a song. My body moved to the music, slowly. I began by closing my eyes..letting the feel of the song come to me. Then, hands roamed over my breasts, touching my face and rising over my head. I clasped my fingers together and moved my hips and waist. I could hear the melody in my head as I danced. I hummed louder and I unclasped my hands and threw them out to the side. My legs moved very little, I mostly used my body to feel the music. I felt myself moving faster, the pace quickening as I danced. My breathing increased and I could feel myself sweating. I spun a few times and almost screamed. I felt that I was lost in the song..there was nothing else but me and the music. I spun a few more times, feeling my hair waving in the spin. Finally, I fell to my knees, exhausted, my head against the floor. The music was broken by the sound of clapping...slow, steady clapping. "Well done," he said. I opened my eyes and looked at him still sitting in the chair. "You have some talent, girl." I blushed, incredibly embarrassed. He stood up. "Continue practicing. We will improve your skills." He walked out and closed the door behind him. I watched as he left, still breathing heavily. Was that me? Did I do that? I never thought I could move that way. I reached back and was brought back to reality by the gruel in my hair and the sweat on my body. I walked into the bathroom and started the shower. I had been excited by my body before, but those times were visual...the sexy, voluptuous girl staring back at me in the mirror each morning and evening or seeing her face in the small mirror as I brushed my teeth and hair. This was different. This time, the excitement was brought about by her movements...MY movements. I could tell that Master was excited and that the dance excited me at the same time. It was more of a feeling...it was amazing. The steam rose from the shower and I stepped inside. I cleared my mind and let the water flow over me. I grabbed my hair, which had become rather long, took a brush and combed the food out of it. I washed my body, touching my nipples which had become very erect and jumped slightly at how they felt. I touched the rest of my body..feeling my skin tingle again as my dainty fingers trailed over it. I had to stop myself. Master said I would be whipped if I touched myself. I felt unable to control myself. My hands moved slowly down my stomach, touching just above my lips. I hesitated. I breathed deeply. My hands shook. My fingernail was right there...I knew.... I must.... Suddenly, I felt my hands pulled roughly behind me and tied together by the wrists. As I protested, a large wadding was thrust into my mouth and tied tightly from behind. The water of the shower was turned off and I was pushed to my knees. I struggled weakly, but the person was much stronger than I. A large bag was placed over my head and tied tightly around my neck. "MMMMPPPPHHH!!!" I felt myself being lifted up and thrown over someone's shoulder, still dripping wet. I kicked my legs hard, but was rewarded with a swift slap on the ass. "Stay still, Kajira," A voice said. I immediately obeyed. The man carried me for a bit and I felt myself thrown roughly on to a hard surface. A heavy restraint was placed over my neck and stomach, which I thought to be chains and I heard small clicks from just by my head. A door slammed and I heard an engine start. The vehicle pulled forward and I struggled vainly against the chains holding me down. As we picked up speed, I began to cry. I was cold and wet and had no idea what was going to happen next. Chapter Five Friday, The Tenth of February Two Years and Four Months Ago The ride had seemed long. I felt the car twist and turn around long roads and bumpy highways. It felt like forever since the night in the hospital room. The wadding in my mouth became wet and slimy as I drooled all over my breasts. My head knocked against the roof of the trunk and I screamed a few times as I was thrown around. It also seemed like forever since I'd eaten. Once during the trip, the car stopped and I heard the engine being turned off. The trunk opened and I could immediately feel the change in temperature as the cold wind blew against my naked body. I felt myself being taken out of the trunk and thrown against the snowy ground. "Nadu, Kajira," the voice said. I immediately knelt and the bag was taken off my head. I shook my hair, knotted and ragged from being stuck in the bag, trying to get the tangles out. I blinked to adjust to the scenery when I saw a blindfold being placed on my from behind. "Do not move or scream or you will be whipped," the voice continued. "Besides, there's no one around to hear you anyway," he laughed and placed the blindfold over my eyes. I knew better than to struggle. These men, I'm sure, were like my Master in the hospital; not ones to be trifled with. I did quickly notice the license plate of the car before they put the blindfold on. I would have to remember that. They removed the gag and I spit and coughed trying to get the taste and small pieces of wadding out of my mouth. A moment later, I smelled meat. Freshly barbequed. I sniffed the air, much like a dog would until I found the source of the food. "Open your mouth." I did so and pieces of meat were thrust into it. I chewed slowly, savoring the tastes and flavors. I felt a hand in my hair and my head pulled back. "Ow!" I screamed. "Chew faster," he growled. I did as he commanded, chewing the meat quickly and swallowing almost whole pieces as he kept shoving them in my mouth. I nearly choked. I then felt something shoved at my lips. "Drink," he commanded. The water poured down my throat quickly and I gulped and swallowed as quickly as I could again. When they were satisfied the wadding was quickly shoved back in my mouth and the hood placed back on my head. I felt myself being lifted back up and dropped hard back into the trunk. I heard the lid slam and I screamed again through my gag. The door opened and was closed and the engine started again. I felt the bumps hard as we started moving again, then it became smooth as we hit the highway. My mind began to wander. We had been driving for what seemed like days. The car almost never stopped and when it did, it was only for a short time. I heard muffled voices now and then and tried to yell out or kick the side, but I was well tied. I fell asleep for short periods of time. They were not restful or peaceful sleeps. My mind would race, flooding with events of the last few months: "It is a planet in the same orbit as this one on the other side of the sun." 'We are going to turn you into a slave. A FEMALE slave.' 'This is your collar. One of its purposes is to express your slavery upon you.' 'You are a slave girl. La Kajira. Say it." "La Kajira' 'Remember that. It may save your life.' One kept creeping back into my thoughts. It scared me. "It, uh, also comes with a 'Plan B, just in case." I cried again. I hoped that I never had to worry about "Plan B." The car finally stopped and the engine was turned off. I could hear the doors open and the trunk popped. There was no wind this time as the strong hands lifted me out of the car and over their shoulder. I bounced on his shoulder as he walked and I was finally deposited on a hard dirt floor. They untied my legs and wrists. "That will be all for now," a voice said. I recognized it as my Master. "Nadu, Kajira." I knelt quickly and heard footsteps on the dirt and felt the sack being untied from my head. It was removed and I squinted a little, adjusting to the light in the room. The blindfold was then removed and he knelt down in front of me. "The rest of your training will be more in accordance with Gorean ways," he said. I looked around the room. It was a dirt floor with small thatched walls, like something you would see from peasants in the middle ages. There was a couch along the far wall and a cage along the side wall. "We will start by putting you through slave paces," he said. I looked at him curiously. "What are slave paces?" I asked. He growled. "Master," I finished. He smiled. "Slave paces are movements, attitudes, positions and such designed to display a slave. Your new Master may require them so that he may assess you. We will work slowly, as you are an untrained slave. But your Master will expect nothing less than perfection so you will learn these very quickly. Is that clear?" "Yes, Master." "Stand. Turn away from me. Place your hands behind your back to be ready for slave bracelets," I did as he commanded. "Lift your head, turn it to the left," Again, I did as he commanded. "This is Lesha," he finished. "Yes, Master," I replied. "Now, kneel down. back on your heel. back straight. hands on thighs." He reached down, turning my wrists up. "Keep your head up. knees wide." I felt so vulnerable. I had done this position before, but it had been sloppy. In Master's hands, I felt like I was being molded. My body tingled as he touched me. "This is Nadu, as you well know. The position of the pleasure slave. Memorize this one well," he finished. "Sula! On your back, legs open. Hands at your sides, palms up," he barked. I tried to do as he commanded, but he groaned. "Stupid slave." He kicked my legs farther apart, almost as far as they would go. "THIS is how I want it," he said. "Do not make me get out the whip." "No Master. Please," I pleaded. I had seen the whip on his hip constantly since I had been brought to that hospital so long ago. I had not yet felt it, but I was sure that I didn't want to. "Stand." I stood up. "Do it again. Quickly!" I dropped to my back with a thunk, spreading my legs, hands against my body, palms up. I could see him shaking his head. "Not very delicate. But since you are training, I can overlook that." he said. "Next. Roll over on your belly. Cross your wrists behind you. Cross your ankles as well." He watched as I completed the pace as he commanded. "This is the position most used for binding slaves. It is Bara. Do you think you understand the paces, girl?" "I...I believe so, Master," I stuttered. It wasn't a lot, but I needed to get it right. "We shall see," he replied. "As I said, we will start slowly." He put his hand at his side, touching the whip that he always carried. I watched his hand carefully by the whip. "Lesha!" he barked. I stood up and turned away from him, hands behind me, head turned slightly to the left and chin up." "Sula!" he barked again. I fell to my stomach and paused. The whip came off his belt and he unwound it. "I...I don't remember, Master." He cracked it over my head. The sound made me put my hands behind my head, covering my ears. I nearly screamed. "On your back, legs open. Hands at your sides, palms up!" I did as he commanded, quickly. The cracked the whip over my head again. "I trust, stupid girl, you will learn these quickly." "Yes. Yes, Master. I promise,." My voice shaked and my hands, sitting next to my body, trembled. I rolled over to my back and tried to remember the position." He sighed. "It is time for bed, girl," he continued. He pointed at the cage in the far corner of the room. "Over there. You will crawl to your cage." "Cage, Master? I will be sleeping in...a cage?" I asked. He stared at me, annoyed and stroked the whip slowly. "Yes. A cage. All animals sleep in cages." "But, I am not an animal. I am a person," I replied. He grabbed the lashes of the whip. "Master!!!" I yelled. The sting from the lash sent waves of pain down my entire body. I had been hit with the lash before, this seemed worse. The power in his strokes was incredible. It was as if I was on fire. The pain radiated from my back, out to my arms and legs. I couldn't believe how much it hurt. The second lash came down just as quickly and I screamed....a woman's scream. That made me realize again what I was. I wasn't Harold McMaster, young accountant from Philadelphia; I was some unnamed slave girl being whipped by her harsh Master. Any resistance that I had left my body and I fell face down on the dirt floor. Another lash fell on my back and I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I was paralyzed with pain and fear. My eyes welled up with tears and when he stopped, I could hear myself sobbing. "Crawl...to....your....cage," he said again, slowly. I lifted my sobbing body up, moving slowly towards the cage. I could hear him following me, his boots scuffing against the dirt floor. The cage door was open and I crawled in. He slammed the door behind me and locked it. "I will give you exactly 15 Ehn to get used to your surroundings before extinguishing the light. Make sure that you learn it well." He turned and walked back towards the front of the room. I sniffed, wiping the last of the tears from my eyes with my hand. "Stupid fool!" I said to myself in English, not realizing the words I was using. I looked around. The cage was small. One could only enter it on their hands and knees, head down. I supposed this was just another part of my submission to my Master. There was a small bit of straw in the corner for sleeping, the rest was dirt. I was unable to stand up in the cell, I could get to my knees but no higher. There was another small bowl in the other corner, I assumed for food and water and a small bucket for....well, I didn't want to think about that right now. I crawled over to the bit of straw. It was cold and a bit damp. There were no blanket in the cage and I didn't dare ask Master for any. I curled up in a fetal position and lay down. "Time's up. Sleep well, little slave girl. We begin again early in the morning," he said, walking around the room and blowing out the small candles. The lights went out and the room became very very dark. I lay shivering in the hay, shaking. I wasn't sure if the shaking was because I was cold or because I was frightened. The whip marks, still fresh on my back, also made me shudder. I stayed in the curled up position and cried myself to sleep. Chapter Six Wednesday, The Twenty Third of May Two Years and One Month Ago "Wake up, you miserable sleen!" Master yelled. He banged on the bars with the whip that he always carried on his belt. I jumped up, still naked, feeling my breasts bounce as I crawled to the door of the cage. It's something, even after all these months, that I haven't gotten used to. "What is the duty of a slave girl," Master yelled. "Absolute obedience, Master." "What are you?" "A slave girl, Master." "What is your duty?" "Absolute obedience, Master." He smiled, then opened the cage door. This was our routine every morning. In the darkness, Master would pound on the cage door, have me go through my verbal paces and then let me out. In the evenings, he would test me on my serves...getting wine and drinks for free men. Over these past few months, he has taught me to serve wine and other beverages to him as a proper slave girl. "Ka-la-na to the third ring, girl. Quickly!" he yelled. I ran to the small bar that Master had put in the corner. I took the wine and poured it slowly, nervously, into the goblet up to the third ring. I walked back to him and knelt before him, holding out the goblet. "Your wine, Master. This slave hopes that it quenches your thirst," I said. "Again," he said. I held up the wine again, pressing the glass to my lips. "Here is your drink, Master," I said. "I beg to serve you further in any way I may." "Again," he said. His eyes were on my body. I tried not to notice, but I tingled at the way he looked at me. "For your pleasure, I bring you paga and a slave," I said again. Master told me that a paga slave, which is a girl who serves drinks in a tavern, can be used by any man for the price of the drink. Even though, Master thinks I will get a private buyer for me, these are still good skills to have. "Again," he said. I pressed the goblet to my belly and then to my lips and held it up to him again. It took me a while to do this without bumping the glass against my breasts. "This girl tenders drink humbly to Master," I said, nervously. "She hopes Master will later find her suitable to give him pleasure." Finally he took the goblet from my hands and drank it. "Dance," he yelled. I stood up, slowly. I hated the dance. It was embarrassing, demeaning. He made my body...this female body move in ways that were still foreign. I lifted my hands above my head, placing the backs of my hands together. Master had taught me a few positions; how to stand, where to put my hands and feet, when to rise to my feet and when to stay on my knees depending on the dance I was doing. Master had shown me a number of dances but that night, I decided to do the whip dance. Master had seemed to enjoy that one the best. I moved my body across the dirt floor as if I was about to be whipped. My hands turned so that the palms were pressed together, then moved down before my face and rested at the end of my nipples. I could feel them harden as I brushed against them. They rested there a few moments as my hips swayed back and forth, as if to avoid the strike of the lash. I threw my arms out and spun my body wildly, my hair flowed and my breasts bounced. Eventually, I fell to my hands and knees; laying there, breathing heavily and my hair covered in sweat. I looked up. Master was smiling, his hand on the handle of the whip. He removed it and swung