Cosplayers Of Gor - Part 4 free porn video

Late last year as everyone knows something out of the ordinary happened at Kubla Con, the big annual SF and media convention taking place in Xanadu, a large conference centre in Orlando, Florida. A costuming event run in conjunction with Kubla Con had attracted thousands of people to take part in the show with a rich eccentric sponsor offering big money prizes for the best costumes and presentations. During the event strange changes, weird powers and arcane capabilities were bestowed on many of the attendees. Magic was loosed and many were never the same again. Some fortunate people escaped the chaos unscathed though. Or did they? Note: Xanadu is a shared-universe storyline concept originally created by Bryan Derksen for the Transformation Stories Archive. Bryan says we can play in his yard as much as we like. https://shifti.org/wiki/Xanadu_%28setting%29 -------------------------------------------------------- Cosplayers of Gor - chapter 4. by Albedo. ([email protected]) Charlie's phone rang while he was wedged under an alarm panel in the motel's back office wiring up the new door sensors. He finished up the last connection before he backed out and got to his phone to check the caller details. The number was half-familiar and when he scanned his contact list he found it was Mrs. Jones, the old lady from downstairs in his apartment block. He selected the voicemail playback with a sinking feeling... "Uh, ah, Charlie it's Cynthia Jones here from downstairs ummm I didn't see you about so I thought I should call you, at the apartment that is, you're not around but there was an ambulance, that girl with the blonde hair in your apartment she was taken away by the..." Charlie cursed then headed for the door ignoring his tools and equipment scattered around. The motel manager looked out the office door quizzically as Charlie rushed out throwing an "Emergency at home!" back over his shoulder. Every light was red, every slowpoke in the city was out in the streets taking turns to get in front of him and then he was home to... nothing. No cops, no ambulance, no emergency vehicles, just normal all over. He lumbered upstairs dreading what he would find. The door locks had been smashed in quite expertly, he could even guess the kind of lock breakers that had been used to do the job. He pushed the door open and went in, cautiously but whoever had broken in was obviously long gone... "Charlie?" came an unfamiliar male voice from the kitchen. He jumped. A guy he didn't recognise stepped out into the hallway, short and stocky, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and dressed in some kind of quasi-military jumpsuit with lots of pockets but no guns or other weapons visible. He kept his distance and his empty hands visible as Charlie swivelled to face him, fists clenched. "I'm with the Xanadu Institute. Name's Billy. Bee Bee's been abducted, we need to get you to the Institute ASAP." Charlie calmed down a little. The guy might be jerking his chain or working for whoever had taken Bob -- he had said 'Bee Bee', not Bibi and had Bob been in girl mode? Had he fallen asleep and changed somehow? What - Charlie forced himself to concentrate on the important things. The Xanadu Institute? "What's the name of Farnsworth's assistant?" he growled. He needed some kind of confirmation of this guy's bona fides before he'd go anywhere with him. 'Billy' nodded, understanding. "Belle. La Belle Dame Sans Merci." He waved his hands in an hourglass shape. That was good enough for Charlie, although he still didn't get that French stuff everyone spouted about Belle. "Let's go," said Charlie as he turned for the door. "We'll use your truck, you might need it afterwards," said Billy as Charlie pulled the apartment door closed behind them, figuring he'd fix the locks later after getting Bob back. If he got Bob back. When he got Bob back. Down the stairs and out to the kerb and his truck, his mind was in a whirl as he opened the driver-side door and levered his bulk into the cab. "Talk to me, tell me what you know." Billy was already in, fastening his seat belt. "Your flatmate Bob was a girl, Bee Bee, long blonde hair n'all, cleaning the kitchen about three hours ago, dressed in some chains and a slave collar and silk doodads." Charlie remembered their last phone call, Bob's words about 'Master' and such delivered in a false contralto. He had probably been planning to surprise Charlie with his appearance when he got back for some Bob-type reason. He punched the steering wheel in anger and frustration. "Go," said Billy. Charlie started the engine and headed for the State highway onramp, the fastest route to the Institute. "How'd you know what he - she was wearin'?" he growled. "Don't take this the wrong way but I saw it." Charlie gripped the steering wheel tightly but forced his temper down. "I'm, well I was, the Institute's inside man on the Gorean group that took her. They were watching you and Bob, looking for a chance to abduct the girl slave Bibi they were after. I ran the surveillance operation for them in the office building opposite your place, cameras and the like. My orders were not to try and stop them or get in their way, just keep track of what they were up to and report back." "Not stop them?" Charlie's voice was at a dangerous low pitch. The guy named Billy, to his credit, didn't immediately unbuckle his seatbelt and jump out of the speeding pickup rather than remain within arm's reach of Charlie. "Orders," he said levelly. "I don't know everything that's going on but it's not just about you and your friend." "He's not my friend, I just share an apartment with him," Charlie said, forcing any trace of emotion from his voice. Billy wisely did not comment as he continued. "Anyway they got into the building disguised as EMTs, broke into the apartment, disabled the girl BUT DIDN'T HURT HER OR ANYTHING." Charlie turned his attention back to the road. "...and put her on a gurney and rolled her out to a waiting ambulance and they were gone," Billy finished. Quite a pro operation, Billy conceded to himself. Smart, fast, well-executed and a clean getaway leaving the people in the target zone no wiser. He'd have been proud to have taken part in an op like that in the old days. "Gone where?" "Don't know. The gang didn't tell me for security reasons." He DID know where the rendezvous point was in fact, Althenius' personal security was threadbare, never mind the loose-mouthed losers he had surrounded himself with, but Billy's current job was to get Charlie to the Institute ASAP after carrying out some minor acts of burglary in the empty apartment. Diverting on a long trip up-state to rescue a fair maiden was not part of his mission brief and besides it was likely the alien spaceship would have been and gone before they got to the meetup point. "So what's gonna happen to Bob, BeeBee or whatever? D'you know that?" Billy did actually know that too but he prevaricated again. Telling someone like Charlie that someone who was not his best friend was going to be shipped off to a different freakin' PLANET to live the rest of his extended lifespan as a female slave while the aforementioned someone was doing twenty over the speed limit in the dark was not a wise idea, especially if you were sharing the vehicle with him at the time. Hazard pay, how I love thee, let me count the ways... "Nope. Farnsworth can tell you what's going on when you see him." "Who's responsible? That fucker Arrass?" Charlie's grip on the steering wheel tightened further. When I get my hands... "No, not him. It's the Gorean asshat, Althenius of Cos that was with him at your meeting, who's done all this. Arrass isn't involved." That wasn't strictly true either but more detailed explanations were up to Farnsworth, not him. He was just a messenger boy this time although he kinda expected to be in at the sharp end before it was all over, making noise and partying like he did with his squadmates in the 'stans in the old days. Good times, good times. Charlie clammed up for the rest of the brief drive before the truck skidded to a stop on the gravel outside the Institute offices. Billy had been texting on an odd-looking cellphone as Charlie drove so he wasn't too surprised to see a group of familiar-looking people at the building's entrance waiting for their arrival. "This way." Farnsworth turned and headed for the front door as Charlie piled out of the cab, followed more sedately by Billy. Belle accompanied her boss, seemingly having no problems with her impossible heels on the loose gravel as Charlie caught up. Four MiBs formed a box around the group as they headed inside; one of them was the towering Amazon named Diana. He gave her a sidewise look but she was all business, her eyes scanning the darkness for possible threats. Billy had peeled off at some point, Charlie realised as they headed for an elevator, his job presumably complete. He hadn't noticed Billy passing a rolled tube of some kind to Belle. The group took a left in the reception area, down a short corridor with discreet sensors mounted on the walls and ceiling. Charlie recognised the sensors from from various high-security locations he had visited on work assignments, out of the expensive end of the security toybox. The only door in the corridor was an elevator at the end. The door hissed open and Farnsworth gestured to Charlie to step in. The MiB team remained outside, their escort job done as Belle followed Farnsworth in, her hands clasped primly behind her back and the door closed behind them. The elevator was capacious but there was no call button or any sort of control panel to select a destination, just cameras and more of those high-tech sensor heads in the ceiling. He peered up at one he hadn't seen before, there was a logo on the casing... A bat silhouette? A product of the Wayne Consortium probably, the high-tech company started by the dozen or so Batmans created by Xanadu. He suppressed the urge to reach up and pop the cover to poke around, see what it did. There was a quiet chime and the elevator started downward. The trip down took some time but not, Charlie decided, because the elevator was slow, they were going deep, really deep. He swallowed a couple of times to clear his sinuses as the air pressure increased. If he was a real skiffy type he could have figured out in his head just how deep they had gone by that information alone but he wasn't and it didn't really matter. Where the fuck was Bob? The elevator stopped and the doors opened onto a movie set, at least it looked like a movie set, the sort of office cum meeting place that no-one other than a movie studio making a big-budget SF movie ever built. The ceiling was impossibly high especially for somewhere this far underground, the walls were covered with flashing screens and running lights, people from Central Casting wearing colour-coded jumpsuits and carrying clipboards rushing here and there. The only thing missing, Charlie decided, were bikini babes - he purposefully didn't snatch a glance at Belle - and a white cat. Farnsworth swept a hand around, proudly showing off. "Welcome to the REAL Xanadu Institute." * * * * * * * * The rendezvous point was busy but everyone was hushed, their voices quiet. It was a county-run tourist campsite of some kind, in wooded terrain far from the main roads and normally closed for the winter but accessible if a padlocked gate or two could be opened discreetly. Althenius had a perimeter guard out watching the access roads just in case. He glanced over at the slave line which consisted of four female figures kneeling naked and bent over, short-chained by their collars to ground anchors, their wrists handcuffed behind them, gagged and blindfolded. The fifth and most important slave, Arrass' precious kajira remained in the medical vehicle strapped to the gurney, still unconscious with the physician watching over her. She would be loaded last when the ship was here. He nodded towards the slaves. "Any problems with the kajirae?" he asked the site commander, an Earth- born man with red-coloured hair. "The whores? Naw." He pointed at the far end of the line. "The two at that end, they're the Xanadu ones, y'know, useta be guys before they got changed at the convention? The brunette wit' the short hair, she's sorta got used to being a female and a slave even back at the camp but the black-haired one, she was a guy dressed up as a Panther Girl at the show, y'know the wild forest women? She wuz still a guy in her head even while she was paradin' around the camp in that fur bikini getup and the guy between her ears ain't taking kindly to bein' treated as a kajira now never mind actually havin' real tits 'n a cunt we can get th'use of." Althenius studied the black-haired girl who was continuing to struggle and pull at her restraints unlike her compatriots who seemed more resigned to their position, staying properly in nadu, head down, not wishing to be whipped. The man shrugged. "Her collar ain't gonna come off so it don't really matter who she thinks she is inside, and I can tell ya from personal experience last night that she's tight and wet in all the right places." He idly massaged his crotch. "She's a screamer and a biter though and I'd not like to get a beejay from her if you know what I mean. Th'fact she's a guy inside her head, it kinda makes fuckin' her sweeter somehow, y'know?" Althenius nodded. The man's crudeness was not to his own tastes but it was a sad fact that all of the Xanadu-spawned Goreans of the Camp of Schendi had sided with Arrass when the split happened, leaving Althenius with the allegiance of most of the Earth-born members of the Camp who aspired to the Gorean way of life, and many of them were not adherents to the higher principles of the Warrior Caste. Frankly he would be well rid of most of them but they were willing to obey him for the moment for a chance to travel to Gor. He suspected that some of them were escaping the local legal system and others breaking unwanted familial attachments in an untraceable manner but for the moment they were useful, and a few like the physician tending to his personal captive were competent and intelligent enough to be valuable. After he returned home though a cull of their numbers might be in order. There were galleys and mines and quarries and plantations on Gor that always required kajiruses, male slaves to carry out heavy labour that more delicate female kajirae were typically unsuited for. Of course those galleys and mines and quarries and plantations were hard places to work in hence their requirement for regular supplies of expendable male slaves as replacements. Althenius took a moment to visualise the red-headed man standing beside him labouring as a quarry slave, naked, harnessed to a sled loaded with cut stone while an overseer plied a long whip on his back. Many kajiruses had their tongues cut out before they were set to work since no-one was really interested in listening to what a kajirus might wish to say or to hear their complaints or curses. It also prevented them secretly discussing rebellion or escape during their limited rest periods, another good reason to silence them effectively. Althenius made a mental note on that matter with respect to the site manager in particular and turned to observe the other girls. The two slaves nearest him were Earth-born women who, for some reason Althenius could not fathom, liked to 'play' at being kajirae. They and their compatriots had been around the Camp of Schendi most days, carrying water and cooking and cleaning and pleasuring those males of the Camp they chose. They could not be simply punished like proper kajirae or commanded to the furs by Masters though since it was a game to them and the Camp did not want to attract the attention of the Earth authorities. In the evening the pseudo-kajirae would retire to a cabin, unlock their collars and change back into Earth-style clothing and then, chatting gaily, they would head off to their vehicles to return home, often to husbands and families who were not aware of what they had been doing all day. The last two such women left in the Camp this evening had found to their surprise when they went to the cabin to change that their regular clothing was gone, removed and destroyed on Althenius' orders. Similarly the collar keys were not hanging on their usual hook inside the door. It had taken quite a few strokes of the girl-whip and many tears to convince them that their old lives were at an end and their new existences as true kajirae had begun. This Voyage of Acquisition would carry a total of five female slaves to Gor. He understood this was not a sufficient number according to his new masters but it was his first such venture and he had had problems arranging things this first time. They understood. They were willing to forgive such a lack of numbers, but only once. He would do better on his next trip to this decadent corrupt world. Much better. Besides, as he smote the site manager on the arm in comradely fashion - strong muscles, good good... - a half-dozen or so kajiruses as a bonus would do a lot to mitigate the smaller number of kajirae on board. It was a shame, he mused, that there was no convenient way to convert male captives of lesser worth into more valuable kajirae. He looked again at the black- haired girl on the slave line, still struggling hopelessly in her bonds. If her alteration by the Xanadu effect could be replicated by Kur science perhaps then he could have delivered a greater number of kajirae to his masters on this trip. Of course some of the changees, indeed many of them would not take to the life of a collared kajira easily or well but the brunette, apparently also a male before the Xanadu effect changed his shape and gender, seemed to be more accepting of her new lesser status within her collar as a member of the Empty Caste. Any male who objected to being thus changed, well the black-haired girl who believed herself to be a man was still kneeling chained like the others, the cuffs securing her wrists behind her back as effectively as the cuffs on the wrists of her more compliant neighbours, the collar fitting around her slim throat as closely as any other girl's collar and her body as accessible as any other kajira's body might be for a Master's pleasure. For her the physical reality of outward femininity outweighed her internal male mental vision of how things should be, no matter how strongly she wished to reject it. He gave over such thoughts for the moment as he had a job to do right now. Time was short. "Is anyone missing? Are we all here?" Althenius enquired. The manager scratched his head, obviously reluctant to speak. "Well?" "Uh, Billy Mottram's not here. He wasn't at the pickup point, he's not called in either." Althenius raised an eyebrow and the manager hastened to explain. Billy Mottram had been the observer in the office building across from the apartment they had raided earlier that night, the one that had promptly alerted Althenius to the presence of Arrass' slave in the apartment's kitchen. He was supposed to sanitise the office then meet up with one of Althenius' operatives at another location. For security reasons he hadn't been told where this place was as he would be operating as an individual, separated from the abduction team. The plan was for him to be brought here to go with the rest of them to Gor when the ship arrived. Althenius reviewed his memories of the man. He seemed competent and biddable, the sort that might have made a useful long-term member of his slave acquisition team rather than being chained to a bench and put to pulling an oar in a war galley on Gor. "Your thoughts?" Althenius asked. The site manager looked frightened. "I dunno. He might have changed his mind, mebbe got scared and bailed on us, or got lost or had an accident or sum'thin'". Althenius considered the possibilities for a moment but decided whatever had happened to Billy Mottram wasn't important. He didn't know where they were now and it was too late for him to get here regardless. They had triggered the strangely-constructed beacon as soon as he and the team that had carried out the abduction of Arrass' pretty little slave-girl had reached here. The shaggy monstrous creature that had delivered the beacon to him several Hands ago had given him a document that explained its operation. Once it was triggered, a ship from the Steel Worlds waiting undetectably in orbit would come to the beacon's location within a period of time which, translated into local terms was just under three hours. The ship would take them and their cargo on board and leave Earth before the sun rose again here. Althenius scanned the edge of the small park along the treeline. He was certain that somewhere in the scrubby forest, close enough to observe what they were doing, one or more of his employers lurked. He would see them soon enough, he thought, when the ship arrived. He did not expect to spot them before that happened though. They were masters of concealment. Stories of such shaggy giants in woodland and high mountain snowfields were common folklore here on Earth but normally they avoided being seen as they moved about this world on their inscrutable business. He looked up into the clouded darkness. Up there was Gor. Up there was home. Up there was the ship that would take him and his captive to where he could begin exacting his revenge on those that had wronged him, a proper revenge, a Gorean revenge. Soon, soon. Hurry. * * * * * * * * "Of course Gor doesn't exist." Farnsworth put his fountain pen down on the veneer-topped table. "But..." Charlie was dumbfounded. If Xanadu had created all these Goreans, why not the world they came from? And these, uh, Bigfoot Kurs and ant-like Priest Kings and spaceships and... Farnsworth shook his head at Charlie's perplexity. "Gor is not real, Mister Golightly." Charlie raised a hand to interrupt. "There's a reason I like for everybody to call me Charlie. You can probably guess what it is." Farnsworth's face soured like he had been invited to bite into a lemon. Charlie sighed. "Okay, Charles is also acceptable," he conceded. "Very well, Charles." Farnsworth waved a hand. "Gor isn't real. It's virtual." The explanation Farnsworth came out with was long and convoluted and Charlie could just about keep up with it but it boiled down to the fact there wasn't any "Counter Earth" on the other side of the Sun and ship- worlds inhabited by giant carnivorous monsters didn't exist in the asteroid belt. The magic of Xanadu had made a "space" of some kind, like a Disneyworld attraction or a theme park that, for the right people, those affected by the Xanadu magic in just the right way, was realer than real. The false reality had boundaries, limitations in time and space and it wasn't "visible" from outside its walls. "Our problem, my problem is that this virtual world leaks in both directions since the Xanadu changees are, were real people and they can go back and forth between this world and their, ah, playgrounds. It's part of the Xanadu Institute's remit to deal with those leaks and the... things that leak." He pushed buttons on the control panel on the table and the wallscreen nearby lit up to show a giant shambling hairy figure like an upright cat crossed with a gorilla covered in thick shaggy hair. Unlike an animal though it wore a harness, weapons hanging at its side. A human silhouette standing to one side to scale suggested the animal was over eight foot tall. "That is what the Gor books calls a Kur, plural Kurii. It is highly intelligent, a spacefaring race, combative, violent and expansionist. They are part of a virtual world created by the Xanadu Effect when some attendees at the convention, including but not limited to Bob James and his girlfriend Alice, dressed up as characters from that imaginary narrative series." The image blanked. "The Kur are dangerous but we could cope with the few of them that have appeared in our world, leakers. They are a nuisance, nothing more." Farnsworth pressed another series of buttons and a new figure appeared on the screen. "The real threat we face looks like this." Charlie stared at the insect-like shape on the screen. Milky-white, six- legged but with the forward abdomen lifted up the front legs were obviously adapted for manipulation. Insectile eyes and antennae on a large elliptical head somehow oozed intelligence. Another human silhouette for scale suggested the head of the insect rose over six feet in the air. "This is a Priest-King. We haven't seen them on Earth yet but if Kur can come here and interact with us then the Priest-Kings can." Farnsworth pointed at the screen with his fountain pen. "The Priest-Kings can destroy worlds. They have destroyed worlds in the past, in the books, in the Gor virtual universe. They are considering the possibility of destroying our world." Farnsworth picked up his fountain pen again. "It is possible they could make good on such a decision even though they don't really exist. Now do you understand why we are concerned, Charles?" Charlie stared at the screen - he had read bits of the Gor books but his eyes had slid effortlessly over page after page of purple prose so he had missed a whole lot. So these bugs were dangerous but they weren't real but... "Why are you telling me this?" Why aren't you, we going after Bob and getting him back instead of just sitting here in this Evil Genius' Lair setup? They were sitting in an alcove off the main hall, the sounds of activity muted in some fashion but the colourful visuals and movement outside the alcove kept dragging Charlie's attention away from what Farnsworth was saying. Damn Hollywood eyecatch background filler scenes... Farnsworth sighed. "I HAVE to tell you this, Charles. It's part of the story, the exposition before the next action sequence." "Story? Exposition? Bob's been kidnapped, by that Gorean dick Althenius of Wherever according to you and you're yammerin' on and on about a STORY?" Farnsworth sighed. "It's all a story, Charles. Xanadu is a story, an alteration of reality, a fiction imposed by some means we don't comprehend on this world and its inhabitants. The people changed by Xanadu all have their stories, dramas, tales of danger and daring, damsels in distress and princes to the rescue, and those stories have rules. Bad things might happen to the Xanadu changees if the rules aren't followed, worse things might happen to the rest of the world too." "But they've got Bob and they could be doing..." Charlie ran out of words. "Yes they have Bob. The story requires that at some point the damsel is put in distress, helpless, captured, facing a fate worse than death at the hands of a moustache-twirling villain before the Hero appears in the nick of time and rescues her. We've just about reached that point in the story where the Hero steps onto the stage." Farnsworth stood up. "Come with me please." Charlie levered himself out of his chair and followed the slight figure. "Y're expectin' ME to be this hero, are ya?" Farnsworth stopped in front of the door where Belle stood guard and turned. "Good gracious Charles, of course not. We already have a Hero." He opened the door and gestured for Charlie to enter. Arrass was waiting in the room beyond, but the stocky muscular male version of Alice wasn't dressed in an upmarket business suit this time. Charlie felt a desire to take a step back as his eyes fell on the armed and armoured figure before him, a Gorean Warrior poised to come to grips with his enemies and destroy them whatever the cost. Arrass wore an open- face helmet with a metal bridge covering his nose, a polished breastplate, leather kilt, metal shin guards and leather forearm bracers with steel reinforcements, a short sword scabbarded at his hip and a shield slung on his back. In his left hand he held a wicked-looking spear, its steel-shod butt resting incongruously on the carpeted floor with the wide-bladed tip standing above even Charlie's eyeline. "Tal, Charles." Arrass smiled, a predator's smile. He stepped forward and offered him his right forearm. Charlie absently responded with the manly Gorean form of handshake he remembered from their previous meeting. "Uh, tal." Farnsworth coughed. "Gentlemen, to business. We haven't got much time." Farnsworth smiled, an odd expression on his otherwise sober features. "Sorry, I had to say that, it's part of the script. In fact we could take as long as we like, really but it would be nice to get this month's drama over and done with. I do have other problems to deal with after all." "So what do you want me here for if Arrass is gonna be your hero?" said Charlie. Farnsworth might not be in a hurry but he was. Bob was in deep shit if he understood right - "I need you to sell Bibi, the slave you own, back to Arrass." * * * * * * * * Althenius of Cos stood in the evening sunlight at the side of the Kur spaceship which had landed in a grassy area close to his own fortified holdings south of his home city of Cos. Trusted retainers of his household, alerted by some means to his arrival were on hand to receive him and provide him with proper clothing and his personal weapons. The detested clothing of Earth he had perforce worn during his time on that polluted planet lay discarded in his cramped chamber on board the ship. He might require it in future voyages but now he stood on Gor, on his own ground he felt no desire to wear it any longer than he needed to. He watched the long coffle of female slaves being led off the ship by his retainers, collar-chained and back-braceleted but otherwise naked. The girls hesitated, looking around in wonder and fear at their new home, their new world. He counted them as the last one, a black-haired girl who fought against the chains restraining her appeared on the sloping gangway leading down to the grass. Ah yes, the Xanadu changee who had been a man masquerading for some reason as a rebellious Panther Girl, if he remembered the explanation given by... who was it? Someone back on Earth, he remembered talking to the man about... something. He had been crude and unintelligent and Althenius had taken a dislike to him. All he could recall of the oaf was his reddish hair, the same colour as the long red hair of the third girl in the coffle who was screaming something foolish about being a man and not a slave despite her obvious femininity and the collar locked around her throat. Another male changed by Xanadu, he presumed. One of the overseers lashed her and she screamed again but wordlessly this time. His girl-whip met girl-flesh again and again and her screams diminished as she stumbled forward, pulled inexorably along by the link chain connected to the collar of the kajira in front of her. Ah well, it wasn't important. He finished counting - nine, ten, eleven kajirae including the black-haired girl at the end. His Kur Masters would be pleased by this haul. The slaves were scared and confused, of course but they were already learning the harsh first lesson of slavery from the girl-whip, 'obey' as his retainers drove them forward crying and wailing towards the protective walls surrounding his palatial villa. He would have them branded immediately and then their slave training would properly begin. He wasn't sure how many of those slaves had been men before they were changed by the effects of the Xanadu sorceries but they would become adequate female kajirae soon enough no matter what gender they had been before. The whipping post had its own way of changing minds and making kajirae more accepting of their preordained fate regardless of their previous station in life. And even if many of them had been men previously they all had "tits and a cunt" now and they were all "tight and wet in all the right places" as someone had said to him, who... He shrugged and watched the coffle move off towards the fortified gatehouse with some satisfaction. They were already starting to walk like real kajirae, not tripping each other or pulling ungracefully. Maybe it was something in the air of Gor that had that effect on women, he mused, or maybe the whips in the hands of their escorts. A clattering noise from the entryway brought his attention back to the ship and he strode back up the ramp. The physician had pushed the gurney with the small figure of another kajira, his kajira now, still strapped to it to the entryway. Her breathing-tube gag had been removed exposing her lush lips, now slightly parted. She still wore her previous owner's collar - he had decided it was appropriate for his proper revenge for her to continue wearing it in the times to come rather than have her wear his own house's collar - but the walking sirik she had been wearing when he had captured her had been replaced with a more restrictive furs sirik, the wrist bracelets and ankle rings separated only by a single small chain link. He saw no need for her to be able to walk far in the near future, never mind run. He looked along her lithe body, maybe he would have her trained as a dancer. Her figure had... possibilities. He imagined her whirling in a sand circle before him, silks flying, her chains glinting in the torchlight as he drank paga, a whip dance perhaps... A dancer's chains were even less restrictive than a walking sirik but he had many slave chains in his holdings, he would have to see which ones best suited her. Of course, being a kajira he expected her to present herself well to the sight of Masters when secured in any chains he locked on her but he would have to judge for himself. He would enjoy testing her in that regard, a whip to hand. Later, later. "She is still asleep?" The physician at the gurney's head laid a finger on the artery on the side of the kajira's neck above her sirik collar. Althenius suppressed a flash of anger at the man's presumption in touching his property since he was only doing his job after all. "Pulse is good and steady, breathing no problems. She'll be zonked for a bit longer, maybe an hour, two at most but she's coming out of it OK. No adverse reactions to the dope." He reached down towards her groin where the tube, the "foley" had been inserted in her urethra soon after she had been captured. The plastic bag taped to the inside of her thigh was bulging slightly, the yellow liquid contents sloshing back and forth as she moved unconsciously. "D'you want me to pull her foley now or wait until she's awake? Th'bag's not full and she's not had much fluids on the way here but she'll leak a bit before she wakes up if I do it now. Th'dope loosens her sphincter and--" "No, leave it in place for the moment." Althenius felt a twinge of discomfort at the physician's crude words. "Attend to her, ah, needs after you take her to my chambers and secure her there." The physician nodded and started to push the gurney down the ramp, then squinted at the grass the ship was sitting on. It had rained earlier before they landed and there were muddy puddles visible here and there. "I won't get this thing across that field, the wheels'll bog down and it'll get stuck." "I will take her there myself then. Come to my chambers later." Althenius unclipped the restraining straps across the girl's body and swept her up into his arms then turned and walked down the ramp. She weighed so little, he thought to himself, to be the instrument of the great vengeance he would visit on his enemies. The girl squirmed feebly, already semi-conscious, pulling lightly on her restraints but helpless within his chains, within his arms, within his holdings, within his world. Her lips parted and she whispered, almost inaudibly. Althenius thought she said something like "No princess carry, Charlie." * * * * * * * * "No." "Charles--" "Fuck no." "Charles--" "Fuck as in fuck, no as in no. Which part of 'Fuck no' don't you understand? I am not selling Bob--, not selling Bibi to that asshole, not to anybody!" Arrass watched the Metal Worker Charles argue with the Physician Farnsworth with growing amusement. The towering giant was obviously very attached to his slave. He had wished that they would be happy together when he accepted payment from Charles for the girl's collar and it appeared they were indeed happy given his obvious reluctance to sell her back to him. There was a belief on Gor that every slave had a perfect Master somewhere and once they found each other he would never let her go. It seemed that Bibi had found her perfect Master in Charles. His obvious fury at his love-slave's abduction was further proof of their relationship. He wished them well. When he had been informed by Farnsworth that Bibi had been abducted from Charles' home by Althenius of Cos he had erupted in similar fury at the sleen's traitorous actions and had immediately volunteered to travel to Gor and rescue her. He caressed the hilt of his short-sword - when he next met Althenius of Cos he would kill him. He had said as much, promised as much. The argument was continuing but Arrass felt Charles would agree eventually to Farnsworth's request. He looked over at the tall figure of Belle, Farnsworth's slave - she could not be his Free Companion, not dressed like that so what else could she be even though the collar she wore was lacy white fabric, not locked steel but this was not Gor, so - and again admired her form. Her footwear was totally impractical but her outlandish dress was deliciously revealing as it should be, displaying her legs and bosom to the eyes of men. He approved of Farnsworth's choice of clothing for his slave, he was much taken by it and indeed he had dreamed of Bibi wearing something akin to it, although in his imagination Bibi's collar was good Gorean steel rather than white lace. Arrass felt Belle's cold gaze fall on him for a moment in return, haughty and dismissive. His interest in her only increased as he returned her disdain with a smile. I like a girl with spirit. She looked away and he turned his attention back to the discussion going on between the two. He did not truly understand all of what they said but it was not important that he did, only that he would be ready to act when necessary. Farnsworth of the Caste of Physicians had promised to put him within swords-reach of the traitor Althenius of Cos' black heart. He, Arrass of the Caste of Warriors would do the rest. Charles' initial anger had blunted on the patient low-voiced obduracy of Farnsworth's quiet manner and he eventually asked the question Farnsworth had been waiting for him to ask. "So why do I need to sell B-" He glanced over at Arrass. "Bibi back to this guy?" "Good question, Charles." Farnsworth gestured to Arrass. "You can't go to Gor to rescue Bibi as you are not part of the Gorean "story". You could be taken there as some others unaffected by Xanadu apparently were but they were at the mercy of the Xanadu effect and they can only fit into roles that those like Althenius of Cos might impose on them, consciously or unconsciously." "You wanna unpack that for me? Roles?" Farnsworth nodded. "Althenius of Cos is a changee, a result of the Xanadu effect. He was a college student attending the convention in the guise of a Gorean Warrior of a faction that worked secretly for the Kur. He is now playing out that role for real in this true world and in the virtual Gorean world. He was living on Earth, collecting women here for what the Kur and the Priest-Kings called Voyages of Acquisition and as such he was able to requisition a Kur spaceship that would take him and his captives back to Gor," Farnsworth shrugged. "I fear, Charles that if you had travelled to Gor with Althenius of Cos you might have arrived at the other end of the voyage looking somewhat different to the way you do at the moment. Althenius was only intent on taking female slaves back to his Kur masters. You might have ended up on Gor in Bob's predicament but locked in a permanently female form." Charlie stopped to run that possibility through his mind, then shook his head. "What 'bout Bob? Is he stuck there? An' how long does it take t'get there? And..." "It takes no time, effectively," said Farnsworth. "As much time as it takes to turn to the next page, to the next chapter of a book. It's a story, after all. Althenius probably remembers experiencing a long tedious trip in the Kur spaceship but it's just a paragraph or two before the next important scene as far as the Xanadu effect is concerned. In our reality no time at all has passed, we believe. As for Bob, he was changed by Xanadu, he is different, the story is written around him too. Once he's back on Earth his condition should return to normal, his new normal that is," Farnsworth carefully didn't mention that Bob could be a Sidekick, an expendable minor character. He was already a damsel in distress, sometimes in stories the rescue of the sidekick doesn't happen in time to save them... "So how do we get him back?" "You sell Bibi back to Arrass of the Warrior Caste here," Farnsworth gestured to the patient figure standing beside them, "and he dreams of her." Charlie nodded, a grin coming to his face as the solution unfolded in his mind. "And then Bob reappears back in..." He stopped, looking sideways at Arrass. He still didn't know that Bob and Bibi were one and the same and the way Bibi awoke in Bob's own bedroom after being changed by Arrass' dreams. And would Arrass sell Bibi back to him afterwards, or would he try to keep him, Bibi for himself? What would happen then? "Not quite," said Farnsworth. "Our primary objective is to send Arrass to Gor. He is an agent of Priest-Kings, as Althenius of Cos is an agent of the Kur. His true role is to act as a moderating influence on the Priest- Kings, to turn their thoughts away from the destruction of Earth, our world." Arras interjected. "It is as Farnsworth of the Physicians says. I am cut off from communication with the Sardar for the moment, undoubtedly due to the malign influence of the Kur stationed on this world and I am unable to call for a ship to return to Gor." He shrugged. "This is not my planet and I dislike much about it but I know there are courageous and honourable people here such as yourself, Charles of the Metal Workers. I would be loath to see it destroyed by the Priest-Kings for that reason if no other." Mighty big of you, asshole. Charlie was still confused though. "But if Arrass dreams of Bibi, how does that get him to wherever?" Farnsworth had said Gor wasn't real but Arrass was as real as it gets, standing there dressed in all that armour and shit. "You may recall Dream Diver, Charles?" Farnsworth explained. "They have powers over dreams other than simply recording and visualising them. Once Arrass is the lawful owner of Bibi again and he dreams of his slave then Dream Diver can send him to his slave's location wherever on Gor she is, even if Gor doesn't really exist." Farnsworth was not certain what he said was actually within Dream Diver's capabilities but this plan was, after a lot of consideration, the best course of action available and stating it outright to be true might improve the chances of it actually eventuating. Explaining beforehand how a plan was intended to unfold was, after all, part of his own Xanadu powers... Charlie sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll sell Bibi to Arrass here if it'll help get Bob back." He stopped. "Ah shit, I don't have the slave papers here, they're back at the apartment--" "Actually Charles," coughed Farnsworth, "I have the papers here. Billy was kind enough to fetch them for me from your abode." He produced Bibi's slave papers from a folder with a flourish. Charlie looked daggers at Farnsworth who just smiled and handed Charlie his fountain pen. "Payment first," said Arrass. He handed Charlie a small but heavy leather pouch that clinked. Charlie half-smiled as the sight of the familiar pouch then opened it and poured its contents onto the table. Four large gold coins, coins he had made himself in his workshop, glinted in the overhead lights. He went to uncap the pen to endorse the slave papers then something forced him to stop. He looked at the coins, looked at the slave papers, back and forth. He felt somehow compelled to say, "Not enough." "It is more than anyone sensible would pay for a mere slave, is it not?" said Arrass, smiling in memory. Charlie paused then nodded, playing along. Arrass reached into his belt pouch and produced another coin and placed beside the others on the table. "It is a gold tarn, minted in Ar. It is pure gold. You will not have any problems spending it on this world." Charlie hesitated then nodded. "I agree. She is yours." He had a feeling that something important had just played out between them but he didn't know what exactly. He swept the five coins on the table into the leather bag. He had difficulty pulling the drawstring shut as it bulged somewhat. I'm gonna need a bigger bag if we're gonna keep on doing this, he thought as he picked up the fountain pen to re-endorse the slave papers. Farnsworth used his little ink-stamp doodad - I've gotta get one a those for myself, thought Charlie - to witness another transfer of ownership of a slave, height such and such, hair colour such and such etcetera etcetera and then it was done. Bob belonged to his ex-girlfriend Arrass again if this bullshit paper meant anything legal and binding anywhere other than in Arrass' head and some virtual theme park planet somewhere. "Now what?" said Charlie as Arrass rolled up the slave papers and tucked them into a small pack on his side. Farnsworth indicated towards the recliner chair at one side of the room. "I will call Dream Diver in and we can begin immediately. Excuse me for a moment." As they left, Belle trailing her boss as usual Charlie heard Farnsworth mutter something he vaguely recognised, Shakespeare was it? "to sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub..." Charlie couldn't recall exactly what play that line came from but he suspected it wasn't one of the few plays with a happy ending. He started worrying again. * * * * * * * * Althenius of Cos watched queasily as the physician finished removing the catheter from the kajira's groin. It seemed so indelicate, so, so intrusive but it was over now. The girl was moving, her mouth opening but she was still half-asleep, still under the effects of the sedative that had been administered earlier - how much earlier, surely it must have worn off on the long voyage to Gor, he had ordered the physician to give her more injections, to keep her sedated hadn't he? - but she would wake soon, soon... The physician turned back before leaving the room. "Something you should know, boss." The man's impolite speech grated on Althenius' sense of propriety but he let it go. He hooked a thumb at the recumbent slave chained at the foot of his bed. "She's still cherry. I saw it when I pulled the foley." "Cherry?" Althenius was confused. The physician sighed. "She's virgo intacta, her hymen's not even frilled-" he saw Althenius' face go through an odd set of emotional evolutions at his words but continued. "She's got the finest example of an unbroached hymen I've ever seen and I've seen a few. Just sayin', boss." He waved his free hand. "Enjoy." He closed the door behind him. The slut is White Silk? Truly? He stared down at the slight figure at his feet. Arrass had never-- The Metal Worker named Charlie had never-- he shook his head, partly in disbelief, partly to settle his racing thoughts, to let the news sink in. He had to think about this, the desire to take her, to bloody her thighs, to claim her first ever experience with a Master was overwhelming but she was his now, he need not hurry, he decided. Vengeance delayed is vengeance multiplied. Let Arrass and Charlie worry and fear what has happened to this girl, let her eventual fate fill them with dread and despair. Besides there were other girls to satisfy his needs now. The black-haired slave, a Panther Girl, she believed she was still a man? Well she'd scream and writhe on the slave rack just as well as any other kajira. That red-headed girl he had noticed on the ramp of the spaceship, she also claimed she was a man. For some reason she interested him and she had "tits and a cunt" too as someone else had once said to him. Once she was branded and brought to an understanding of her position in Gorean society he'd take her too, he decided. She might also be a virgin, he mused, but in her case he wouldn't be as solicitous even if she was. His retainers would be glad of her use too, before she went to the slave block. He glanced down at the slim figure at his feet, moving feebly within her chains, nearly awake but not yet aware of her situation. This one here though, he could wait, he would wait. That wouldn't stop him enjoying his revenge on Arrass and Charles with her body in other ways before she was made Red Silk - he glanced over at the ring set high in the wall of his chambers, positioned to restrain a girl's wrists high above her head, hold her body perfectly exposed for a whipping at her Master's pleasure. His heart raced at the thought, imagining her twisting as the 9-lash girl-whip striped her back with red fire, her screams and curses and tears, her begging and pleading... Today is only the beginning, and it was time to begin. He bent down, brushing the girl's long golden hair tenderly away from the side of her head, her collar clearly visible in the angle of her jaw. First... * * * * * * * * Bob felt a hand patting him gently on the cheek. Charlie? Was he back already he hadn't finished the kitchen floor yet... "Wake up, wake up..." The voice was unfamiliar yet he was sure he had heard it before, arrogant and demanding. He peered blurrily at the figure looming over him, who was it... His head slewed sideways from a ringing slap. "What the..." Another slap, hard and shocking sent his head the other way. "Fucker!" he spluttered, trying to reach up with his hands to stop the blows but for some reason he couldn't lift them, something pulled them down, he... Two more stinging blows, left and right followed leaving him dazed and confused but the next words brought him shockingly to awareness of his situation. "The word, my little kajira, is 'Master'. Learn it and learn it well." Bob stared up open-mouthed at the face of Arrass' best bud, the Gorean guy from the Institute, who was it, Arhenius or something like that, the tall asshole who had pulled a knife and then got his ass handed to him by Farnsworth's French-Maid assistant Belle before he was thrown out. He was dressed in some kind of old-style robe, not a thousand-buck business suit like he had worn to the meeting. Bob looked around, they weren't in his apartment, it was some sort of old-style stone-floored room with carpets hanging on the walls, a ceiling of wooden beams... he kinda remembered seeing this guy when he had been cleaning the kitchen, he had been wearing a paramedic uniform, he sprayed something in his face... his dazed mind raced, unable to join the dots as the man hooked him under his arm and lifted him easily to his unsteady feet. The man, who was he, held Bob upright for a moment, letting him collect his thoughts as he looked Bob's feminine curves over with avaricious eyes. Reality checklist, point number one I'm female, Bibi again. Nothing new there. My groin feels kinda itchy-burny for some reason... I'm chained up, nothing new there too. It's that 'sirik' chain thing, wrists and ankles and a collar but it's not what I put on myself to clean the kitchen with, it's tighter for some reason, the chain between the wrist cuffs is too short, how am I gonna clean up the rest of the apartment wearing this? Where are the keys? I need the keys... Bob looked around again, he wasn't in the kitchen, he wasn't in his apartment, there weren't any keys he could see, he was stuck without the keys where's Charlie... The Gorean guy pulled him over to a wide doorway that led onto a balcony or porch of some kind, his feet dragging on the carpeted floor as he started to struggle, uselessly of course. The ankle cuffs, chain's short too that's wrong how can I mop the kitchen floor chained up like this where's Charlie... It was dark outside, the cool air raising goosebumps on his naked skin, his nipples crinkling noticeably, a faint moonlight illuminated the walled gardens beyond the porch, the shadows oddly doubled. He looked up, the moon was... wrong, too small and his head slewed around to catch sight of a second moon, a second moon? He blinked but the two moons were still there in the sky, real and wrong and... The dark triumphant voice of Althenius of Cos broke through his confusion. "Welcome to Gor, my little talender." Bob screamed.