Harem Girl of Gor Chapter Six
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Harem Girl Of Gor Chapter Seven free porn video
Harem Girl of Gor
Chapter Seven: My downfall is complete.
The dried blood on my upper thighs was evidence of what I already knew -
that I was no longer white silk. I lay now on my belly on the tiles of
the alcove floor, the slave ring and chain still locked in place around
my ankle. The length of white silk lay near the curtain where Seremides
had cast it aside. It was no longer appropriate for me. In future if I
was to be given pleasure silks to wear, they would almost certainly be
red in colour.
You may be wondering whether I enjoyed being raped on that slave couch,
and the short answer is no. The books seem to suggest that all women
discover their 'slave belly' when a man (any man) rapes them. I wish
that were the case, truly I do, for it would have made the ordeal
bearable, but the truth is I was an unwilling participant, I was scared,
I was threatened with extreme torture and ultimately death if I did not
co-operate, and none of those things are conducive to me feeling
aroused. My body was tight when Seremides forced himself into me and it
hurt. To my shame and humiliation I had to pretend I was enjoying it,
otherwise he would have sent me to my slow death in one of the narrow
pits afterwards.
"You are very quiet, Emma," said Seremides as he pulled his tunic back
on over his body. "Do you not wish to thank your Master for teaching you
what it is to be a woman on Gor?"
"Thank you Master for teaching me to be a woman on Gor," I said quietly
as I lay there. It had hurt when he had broken my hymen, but I had
suffered worse than that to date. Over the course of an hour or so I had
been compelled to respond to him as a full pleasure slave, encouraging
and co-operating in his use of my body. I think we all have differing
definitions of what the word 'evil' means. For me the definition has
something to do with self gratification at the expense of others, and
not particularly caring about their pain, or even worse, relishing it.
These days my definition of evil is a lot simpler as I have distilled it
down to a single word: 'Seremides'.
"You were splendid. I feel refreshed and ready to contend with a busy
day which will begin with meeting the slaver, Rashid."
"You're going to sell me to him, aren't you?" I said miserably.
"Indeed. That was always the plan. You were superb in the furs, Emma,
and I am almost tempted to keep you, but I think you would be an
inconvenience when I travel in secret to the Northern Forests. Oh yes,"
he noticed the surprise in my eyes when he said that, "I will be taking
command of the expedition into the forests. It is my reward, my
promotion, for having acquired the weapons cache location. Kaa-Ashgaa is
a Kur of considerable vision and genius and he recognises talent when he
sees it."
Kaa-Ashgaa. I made a mental note of the Kur name, though I had no real
hope it would ever be useful. "I suppose Kurgus is unaware of your
treachery?" I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Seremides had
struck me there several times during the rape, even though I was co-
operating fully. I think it added to his pleasure.
"Kurgus is ignorant of my plans, but do not call what I do treachery,
Emma, for if anyone is a traitor, it is Kurgus and the insipid overly
cautious creatures he serves, who through their recent inaction are
betraying the Great Race. The Steel Worlds have waited far too long to
take Gor for themselves. And anyway," Seremides turned to face me again,
"why should you care what fate befalls Gor? You were taken from your
world and enslaved by Goreans. You owe this world and its people
nothing. You should be pleased to see it fall."
"And what will replace it?"
"Why, the natural order of the universe of course. Chaos. Anarchy. The
rule of the strong over the weak. With me as High Claw of the Kur's
Gorean allies. Once I deliver the weapons cache to Kaa-Ashgaa I will
have my pick of women. I shall have the most beautiful Ubaras of Gor
chained to slave rings at the foot of my couch. This is going to be a
good day. This is going to be MY day." He lifted his right foot and
pressed it close to my hands. "Lace my sandals, Emma." I did so. First
his right sandal and then his left. I did so on my knees and while I did
so my eyes registered his weapons harness propped against the side wall.
There was his short Roman style sword - a Gladius - and his dagger. For
a brief moment I imagined what it would be like to be Lara Croft, to
suddenly leap across the intervening space, somersaulting and landing to
seize the Gladius, turning on the balls of my feet to then stab it into
his gut, twisting the blade as I did so.
But the Gladius remained there in its scabbard, untouched, while I tied
Seremides's sandals.
"Now kiss and lick my feet, Emma, and tell me what you are."
"La Kajira, Master." I kissed and softly licked his feet.
"How arrogant and full of yourself you were during your time in
Corcyrus. So full of airs and graces, thinking you were something
special. I despised you there, do you know that? To think Kurgus
actually expected me to take orders from a barbarian girl! He has no one
to blame but himself for my turning to the service of the great Kaa-
Ashgaa. I was loyal to him for so long! But did he ever respect that? He
lavished more praise on the Lady Jacinta than he ever did on me. He was
practically my blood brother! Kurgus and I fought together in a shield
wall thirty years ago in the great Ar-Cos war. We tended one another's
wounds. We shared blood and steel! We have history together! Does that
not count for something? And yet, he awards me a 'punishment detail' to
obey your orders in Patashqar? Tell me, is that fair?"
"No Master, it is not." I placed my forehead at his feet and told him
what he clearly wanted to hear.
"See what I have accomplished in secret without his knowledge! I have
the co-ordinates to Tarn Strike now, and when I deliver its nuclear
payload to Kaa-Ashgaa, we shall destroy the Sardar mountains and every
Priest King living there. And then the Steel Worlds will send its ships,
like locusts in the wind, to take Gor and your snivelling planet too."
Of all the cliches in pulp fiction, the one the always amused me the
most was the common enough precedent of the evil villain explaining his
sinister schemes to the hero when he's captured. And yet here, as I lay
on the tiles, with a slave ring locked around my ankle, was a man who
was doing just that. I can only assume his bruised ego relished the
opportunity for someone to marvel at his genius, and at this moment in
time it seemed that I would qualify as an applauding audience.
"Master is very clever," I said. "I had no idea who I was dealing with.
He outwitted me at every turn."
"It's not your fault, Emma. You were never my equal, nor even close." He
knelt down and lifted my face by the chin. "I knew you were a slave from
the moment I set eyes on you. I had no idea how superb you would be in a
collar and pleasure silks of course, but I recognised you were a natural
slave."
"Master knows his girl well," I said as I lowered my eyes in submission.
"How easily I played you. You have served me well, and in my gratitude I
will sell you to Rashid rather than kill you. You will be taken deep
into the desert and I fear your slavery will be a harsh one. No soft
silken couches for Emma in some rich man's harem. No diaphanous pleasure
silks where you will be going. Just back breaking work during the day in
a nameless desert settlement and further work on your back in the furs
during the night."
I sobbed. I had always feared such a fate.
"I do this not out of cruelty, but rather I do not wish you to be a
slave here in Patashqar where agents of Kurgus may one day find you.
Where Rashid will take you, no one will ever find you. You will live out
your remaining days on Gor in complete anonymity."
Seremides was as good as his word. He had assured me I would not wear
pleasure silks when he took me to the metal working forge where Rashid
awaited him. He marched me naked, the way I had come to the pens of Banu
Hashim originally, but now I knew I was no longer wearing a collar
around my neck as a form of pretence. There were legal papers filed in
my name proclaiming me a kajira, and there was nothing I could do to
save myself from this fate. I kept my head lowered in submission as I
was led by a throat leash, for I did not wish to gaze at any Free Women
who might watch as I was led past the market place. Curiously, some of
my thoughts were of Erin - she was back in the pens and knew nothing of
this betrayal. How long would she endure her slavery in the hope that I
was now free and working towards buying her? How long before that hope
gradually gave way to doubt and a nagging suspicion that I had lied, and
that no one was coming to her aid. She would feel betrayed for a second
time. She would hate herself for having been stupid enough to trust me.
She would be even more bitter and cynical than before. I cried on her
behalf as well as my own. There was no way I could tell her the truth of
what had happened. She would wait for word from me with a new born hope
that would prove false, and she would eventually come to hate me I
think.
"Oh, Erin, I'm so sorry..." I whispered as I kept pace with Seremides.
"Please forgive me." But I knew in the pens of Banu Hashim she would
never forgive me for apparently breaking my word. She would think I was
no better than Kurgus.
I think I was numb and still in shock by the time we reached the small
metal working shop in the back streets of Patashqar. Rashid was waiting
there for us, with Kara kneeling in the straw beside an anvil. A chain
ran from the anvil and was padlocked about her neck. The moment I saw
her face I knew she had been raped too.
"Tal," said Rashid as Seremides led me through the narrow doorway. "You
are late." His eyes narrowed as he spotted the dried blood on my inner
thigh. "I thought you were bringing me a white silk girl?"
"What can I say? The temptation was too great," replied Seremides. "I
mean, just look at her."
"You promised me a white silk girl!" snarled Rashid as he spat on the
sawdust covered floor.
"Her sale price is cheaper now," suggested Seremides. "You will be
getting a bargain. And there will be other girls that are white silk. I
will ensure you have first refusal on them." He clicked his fingers and
pointed to a spot on the ground. "Bracelet position, Emma." I moved and
stood there as instructed.
"You say she is fully trained?" Rashid approached and began to check my
bonds and examine my body, turning me first to the left and then to the
right. I endured his touch and smiled when it was expected of me for I
did not wish to be beaten.
"To the same standard as Kara. I take it she was pleasing?"
"She was." Rashid glanced back at Kara who quickly lowered her head,
understanding she was the subject of their discussion. "She was, in a
sense, my second breakfast today." The men laughed. Now Rashid put his
fist in my hair and pulled my head back. He gazed at my face and seemed
satisfied. "She will be cheaper now, you say?"
Seremides nodded. "Five copper Tarsks will suffice. The conditions of
her sale are as before - she must not be resold in Patashqar or Kadesh,
or indeed Tor. I want the slut to disappear into the sand dunes."
"There are men who might be looking for her?" suggested Rashid as he
began to examine my teeth, all of which were perfect and flawless of
course, for the Kurii science had corrected all signs of dental work
from my time on Earth.
"Not yet, but maybe some day. In any event you simply have to ensure she
doesn't serve in a city."
"I think I will pay you two copper Tarsks," said Rashid after giving the
matter some thought. "I was expecting her to be white silk after all."
"Four copper Tarsks, but only because I have in a sense disappointed
you."
"Shall we then agree on three and say no more of the matter?"
"Agreed." The men spit and clasped hands and the deal was done. I no
longer belonged to Seremides of Corcyrus. I had been sold to this desert
man for three small copper coins. That was what I was worth to him.
"Have you decided on Emma's brand?" asked Seremides.
Shock suddenly hit me like a hammer blow as blood drained from my face.
You may think me stupid for not having anticipated this, but in a sense
I had begun to take it for granted that I was an unbranded slave-girl. I
had been in a collar for eight weeks now, long past the time most girls
are branded, and so I had forgotten such a thing might possibly happen
to me. I gazed wildly about the room and saw a furnace with red hot
coals and a bellows for forcing air into the conical forge. There were a
number of handles belonging to branding irons with their shafts and tips
buried in the coals.
"There are five irons here to choose from," said Rashid as he scratched
his chin. "The common Kef brand, the Dina, the Palm, the typical mark of
Treve and the common mark of Port Kar. It seems I am spoilt for choice."
"I have always been fond of the kef brand on the left thigh of a girl,"
suggested Seremides.
"I too appreciate the kef. The kef it is."
"Please, Master... don't do this to me." I pressed my forehead against
Rashid's feet in supplication, for all the good it would do me.
There was of course a branding rack in the metal working shop. The
design of such racks varies from city to city, but generally speaking it
is a vertical x shape that allows a girl to be stood upright with her
wrists chained above her head in snap bracelets or manacles. The rest of
her body can be unrestrained, except that there is an adjustable vise
like grip with spinning twist handles. One or the other of her thighs is
placed into the vise and it is then tightened until the thigh which is
to receive the brand is perfectly immobile. This allows for precise
application of the branding iron to ensure a clean mark is made.
My pleas for mercy were simply answered with a cuffing from the back of
Rashid's hand that knocked me to the ground. I felt his hand grip my
hair again and pull me to my feet, I was bent forward so that my head
was at the height of his waist. Then he led me to the branding rack,
removed the bracelets from my wrists and placed me onto the rack,
locking my wrists now above my head. I sobbed as my feet were shackled
for added security to the lower legs of the rack. Now Rashid moved the
adjustable vice into position around my left thigh and span the twist
handles until I was perfectly held in its inflexible grip.
"Please, no, Master..." I could see Kara watching from where she knelt,
fastened by a length of chain to the heavy iron anvil. Two months ago
Seremides had had her branded in the House of Abdul-Hamid and I remember
hearing her horrible screams from where I lay in a slave-girl cage. I
remember seeing her glassy eyed, in shock, when she was subsequently
brought out to be housed in the cage next to mine. Her hands had been
tightly braceleted behind her back so that she couldn't scratch or
mutilate her fresh brand in any way. It was truly horrible.
A brand is of course permanent. Even reconstructive surgery on Earth
would leave a badly scarred thigh as the brand burns deep into a girl's
flesh. A girl who has a brand has it for life. It would be the final
stage of my slavery - confirming if there was still any doubt, that I
was no longer free.
"You object to being branded, Emma?" asked Seremides. "Surely you
realise slave-girls are routinely branded?"
"Please, please don't do this to me, Master!"
"You will look lovely with a brand, Emma. You are incomplete without
one." Seremides nodded to Rashid, who then approached the hot coals
where he selected one of the irons - the one tipped with the common kef
design. "I promised you a display of Rashid's skills," said Seremides,
"and as you can see I have kept that promise."
"Please don't brand me!" I struggled against the rack and was able to
wriggle and move every part of my body save my left thigh that was
locked firmly in place. Now Rashid walked towards me with the tip of the
brand seeming white hot. He held it close to my face so that I could see
the design and feel the heat radiating from it. "Oh God, please..."
"You are already a slave, Emma," said Seremides. "You have been one for
two months now, ever since you proclaimed yourself a slave in the house
of Abdul-Hamid. Did you you truly believe you were playing a role?"
Rashid placed the branding iron against my thigh and, oh God, the pain,
the absolute searing all consuming pain! I screamed louder than I ever
thought possible and I shook within the confines of the branding rack as
I heard and felt the brand crackle and hiss and indelibly mark me for
life. There was a sickening smell of burning flesh, and what seemed to
be unrelenting pain. I screamed and screamed and screamed some more,
shaking my head from left to right. Rashid held the iron firmly in
place, letting it sear and char my flesh for five ihn. I wanted to pass
out, to faint, but couldn't. All I could do was scream, with wide
staring eyes and sweat drenched hair. I registered nothing but the pain
- a pain that didn't stop when the brand was finally removed from my
thigh.
"Good clean work," said Seremides, seemingly impressed. "You have
branded many girls"
"I personally brand all the girls I seize in the desert. Why waste money
paying another man to do it?"
"I suppose." Seremides rubbed his chin and regarded me as my body
slumped in its bindings. Tears were running down my cheeks and the smell
of cooked meat was emanating from my left thigh. "There is no mistaking
what you are now, Emma."
But I wasn't listening. I was in the grip of the burning, all consuming
pain. I felt like I was going to be sick, but the lack of food this
morning meant there was only a long string of saliva hanging from my
mouth. Now I was the same as Kara, the same as Erin. We were all branded
slave-girls on Gor.
I was left in the rack for a time, while the men discussed matters
pertaining to their mission. Whatever service Rashid had provided over
the course of the last two months seemed to be finished now, and it was
simply a case of the men concluding their business together.
Kara gazed at me, understanding only too well the pain I must now be
feeling. She hadn't spoken to me since she had been forced to beat me,
along with all the other girls, the morning after I had been freed from
the narrow punishment pit. I had missed her company, her concern for me,
the moments of shared laughter during the darker days of our training
and her determination to survive. In the coming weeks when we were
slaves in the desert settlement where Rashid's family eked out a basic
existence from the rough hammada ground, it was Kara who kept me alive
and kept me sane. I feel sure that if I had not had her by my side I
would have either gone mad or I would have died. In many ways I owe her
my life.
What followed was a time of total despair. Kara and I were given black
haiks to wear as protection against the fierce Tahari sun, as we were
marched out of the city and into the desert. Rashid rode a war kaiila
and led two pack kaiilas with various supplies. Kara and I were chained
by our wrists and in a neck coffle and we marched relentlessly across
the stoney ground and into the shifting dunes of the desert proper. We
were made to walk for several hours at a time before we might be allowed
to rest, and in the fierce heat of the Tahari it was an exhausting
journey. Worse was to come when, many days later, we arrived at a
pitiful collection of adobe buildings in the middle of nowhere. Here
were Rashid's family - his sisters and brothers and they greeted him as
a hero. It was a large family as is common in the Tahari. The brothers
were all desert bandits like Rashid, while the sisters were Free Women
who had petitioned him for new slaves to take on their chores. I could
see the women detested us the moment the black haiks were drawn away
from our bodies in front of the adobe building in which the kaiilas were
stabled. This stable was also to be our home, as it had an iron bar
fixed to a wall to which our neck chains could be fastened.
"See how soft and pretty they are," said Aludra.
"Look at their hands," said Ghaliyah as she took my right wrist and
examined my soft palm. "This one has never worked in her life."
"They are pleasure slaves," laughed Rashid, to the delight of his three
brothers.
"Pleasure slaves!" Karida, the third sister pulled my hair to
deliberately hurt me. "We need hard working girls to farm and tend to
the livestock. And you bring us this soft city slut!" She pulled my
mouth open to check my teeth.
"I have uses in mind for them too," said Rashid as he winked at his
brothers. "Do what you will with them during the day. During the night
they will have other duties."
And so it was that by day Kara and I worked under the hot baking sun. it
was back breaking work that soon meant we developed hard calluses on the
palms of our hands. We widened irrigation ditches and tended jojoba,
date palms and citrus plants. We scraped pitiful crops of rice, maize,
lentils, and chickpeas and spent many hours each day grinding the maize
between stone wheels under the watchful eye of Karida. She carried a
whip and she would strike us if ever we slowed down. Even when I would
collapse through a combination of heat and hard work, Karida would beat
me where I lay until I got up with Kara's help. Kara was stronger than
me, and she endured conditions that would have been too much for me to
bear.
And during the nights Rashid and his brothers would take it in turn to
have us each in their furs. Each of the men had me in turn, and not a
night went by that I wasn't raped by one or another of them.
A couple of weeks later a third girl was added to the homestead - a
Tahari girl called Mehra, that Rashid had seized during a desert raid.
She made the daily chores a little easier, though our night time duties
remained as frequent as before.
There were times when I truly wanted to die, but Kara kept me alive
throughout it all.
During this time I suppose Seremides was busy making arrangements to
travel north. He had the co-ordinates I had given him, and his plan was
to reach a city such as Lydius or Laura that bordered the vast forest
region, there to meet up with warriors and hunters in the employ of the
Kur faction that was planning a military coup within the Steel Worlds.
It would take time for Seremides to organise and equip an expeditionary
force sufficiently strong to be able to navigate the forests that after
all were teeming with Panther Girls and Outlaws. But once his force was
assembled, he would plunge deep into the emerald canopy and find the
lost weapons cache that might be used to destroy the Sardar Mountains,
and with it the Priest Kings who are said to live there.
During the hours before dawn when I lay chained in the stable, having
satisfied one or maybe two of the desert bandits in their furs, I would
embrace Kara and we would console one another. We had little in the way
of hope left. I felt sure we would eventually die out here, though Kara
told me not to think of such things. I told her the truth about my
coming to the Tahari; about Kurgus, about the Kurii and their decades
old war with the Priest Kings, and I told her about Tarn Strike, and how
I had been sent to find the slave-girl, Erin, and acquire from her the
location of the lost weapons. I told her everything apart from my
greatest secret - that I was in fact a man before I came to Gor. That
one thing I still kept from her.
Rashid's brothers were not cruel like him. They treated me as a slave of
course, and they expected me to obey them and to pleasure them, but they
were not cruel for the sake of cruelty. If I disobeyed or was less than
perfectly pleasing, I would be beaten, but provided I made them happy,
they would treat me fairly. In their furs late at night they would
reward me with small pieces of food from the previous evening's meal,
and they would at least make a point of warming my body before fucking
me. I am ashamed to say that my body did sometimes respond to their
caresses once I was over the initial shock of being used very night. One
of the brothers - Haroun - was actually quite skilful and to my surprise
I generally orgasmed each night I spent in his furs. I should be clear
that this was still rape - I had no say in the matter, but as the nights
wore on and I began to accept the reality of my situation, I did begin
to respond sexually without having to pretend.
Idris, Rashid's youngest brother, would always sleep with me after using
me. The others would generally send me back to the stable, where one of
their sisters would chain me by the neck to the iron bar next to Kara.
The sisters hated that I gave pleasure to their brothers, and they hated
my overt sexuality. I feared being chained by Karida because she was the
cruellest of the three. Some nights, after she had locked me in place
she would pick up a kaiila crop and beat my thighs with it.
"Slut!" she would scream at me as I cringed in the dry straw, unable to
defend myself. "Filthy, city born slut!" Afterwards Kara would take me
in her arms and hold me and I would cry and sob and wish that I were
dead.
So I looked forward to being sent to Idris every fourth night when it
was his turn to have me. It would mean I would spend the night in his
furs and not have to face the possibility of being led back to the
stable by Karida. Idris would talk to me late into the night and tell me
his grand ambitions to be a desert Pasha one day, leading a thousand
kaiila riders into battle. He was young, maybe just 17 years of age, and
I suspected I was his first woman. He was certainly over eager at first
and I had to use many of the techniques I had learned in the slave pens
to slow him down for fear he might come too quickly, feel embarrassed by
that fact and take his embarrassment out on me as if it were somehow my
fault.
I think Idris became quite fond of me as I often felt his eyes on me as
I worked on the stoney hammada ground during the day. Once when Ghaliyah
was about to beat me for some imagined slight, Idris restrained her whip
hand and told her to leave me alone. "She will be in my furs tonight,
and I do not want her performance spoilt."
Ghaliyah resented that of course and took it out on me three days later
when Idris was away scouting out caravan trails. By the time he was
back, I had been beaten so badly that I had not been able to work for a
whole day.
I would not have made it without Kara. I cannot even begin to imagine
what those days and nights would have been like without her. She too
suffered, but she had an inner strength and resilience that I didn't
possess.
But even with Kara there, life in that settlement would have killed me
eventually. But then the day came when Rashid grew tired of us all, as
he had grown tired of his previous slaves, and he decided we would be
sold at the Oasis of the Twenty Three palms. And that, at last, is where
my current narrative originally began.
Which brings me back at last to Brinn.
Gigi
- 12.09.2022
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