Cosplayers Of Gor - Part 5 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 5. by Albedo. ([email protected]) Charlie tried not to make eye contact with Arrass while they waited for Farnsworth and company to return but the Gorean's focus was elsewhere, his breathing steady, his demeanour calm. He was like a sportsman poised, ready, prepared to make a supreme explosive effort when the time came and conserving his mental and physical energies to that end. Charlie almost pitied that asshole Althenius. Almost. As long as it got Bob back... Farnsworth came back in with the diminutive robed figure Charlie had met previously, Dream Diver, with Belle following up and closing the door behind them. Arrass looked Dream Diver over then apparently decided they didn't pose any kind of a threat and he returned to his previous state of composed readiness. "Belle? Would you escort Charles to his vehicle? He may wish to be back at his own apartment after this is all over and there isn't anything else for him to do here." Charlie nodded and turned to leave, taking the hint. Assuming it all went the way it was supposed to Bob would reappear in his bedroom sometime soon, more than likely chained up and mightily pissed off. He'd need a hand getting free and maybe some tranquillisers once he was out of all the hardware and got changed back into a guy. The busted apartment door locks needed fixing, he'd have to go back to the motel and make good with the manager for running out on the job like that, now where were his truck keys... There was... it wasn't a conversation, there were no voices, but somehow he was aware of a discussion of some kind going on behind him and he stopped to look back. Farnsworth was staring into space, distracted while the glowing threads in Dream Diver's cloak pulsed rhythmically. When they stopped Farnsworth jerked then quickly looked around, an uncharacteristic expression of shock and surprise on his normally placid features. "Ah, Charles? You're still... good." He gestured for Charlie to come back into the alcove. "It seems, well, Dream Diver has informed me that the odds of success in our endeavour would be increased if you accompany Arrass to Gor," Farnsworth explained. "What the..." Me, go to Gor? Are you fucking crazy? Farnsworth waved his hand at the silent figure of Dream Diver. "My ah, colleague has powers over dream but they also experience some limited and irregular insights that you might describe as precognition." "He can see into the future?" "Ah, no." Farnsworth fiddled with his fountain pen again. "It's not absolute and it doesn't work outside their dream realm and... well, it's more like foreknowledge of likely possible outcomes rather than a single deterministic future." Farnsworth put the pen down. "The chance of our efforts succeeding are increased if you travel to Gor with Arrass but it's still not a certainty. We might also succeed even if you don't go with him but..." Charlie could fill in the rest. It still left a bunch of other questions hanging in the wind. "How do I get back afterwards? I don't wanna be stuck on that mudball..." he stopped and glanced over at Arrass who was still in that Zen-like state of readiness, not taking part in the conversation but obviously listening closely to what was being said. "On Gor. And besides you said that I might end up changed if I went there b'cause..." Farnsworth held up a hand. "You won't actually go, your body will stay here. You were not directly exposed to the Xanadu effect unlike Arrass here or Bibi who are now part of the Gorean reality. As for being changed physically or mentally, that is possible but unlikely. Only your dream self will go to Gor, it will seem real to you but you will not be there in corpus so even if you changed there you would almost certainly not suffer any permanent effects once you awake here." "Possible but unlikely?" Farnsworth was really hedging his bets here. And that 'almost certainly not' was worrying him too. Farnsworth shrugged. "This is not something we have ever done before. We have no previous experience to inform us precisely about what might happen, only surmise and informed conjecture." Charlie tried to imagine himself being on Gor, changed to fit Gorean 'reality' if Farnsworth's "unlikely" turned into "inevitably". Given the way 'Goreans' like Arrass and company thought then he'd end up with tits and wearing a collar and... even knowing it was a dream experiencing it would not be pleasant and if Farnsworth was wrong about him remaining unchanged then he might be wrong about it not being permanent, not getting stuck there as a slave, as... He shrank away from the wild ride his imagination was taking him on and cut to the chase. "Does this get Bob back?" "It improves the chances of success of our mission and the possible return of your friend, that is all I can say." "He's not my friend, we just..." Charlie gave up. He was tired and he was here and he couldn't think of anything else to do. "Ah what the heck. Let's do it." Farnsworth's jumpsuited minions brought in another recliner chair and put it beside the one Arras had already settled into, his hand still gripping his spear and looking remarkably natural resting in a twenty-first century faux-leather recliner in his iron-age armour and clothing. Charlie was not as good a fit in the matching recliner, his feet and head hanging off each end. Belle brought them some orange-coloured drinks on a tray. "It's fruit juice with a minor soporific to help you sleep and dream," Farnsworth explained. Charlie shrugged and downed the contents of his glass in one gulp. Arrass looked keenly at Belle as if waiting for her to do something specific but her disdainful expression did not change as she held the tray out to him. He sighed and accepted the glass, sipped at it experimentally and then swiftly drank the contents. He returned the glass to the tray and then reached over with his free hand to grasp Charlie's forearm. "Tal, friend Charles. We will meet again soon, on Gor." Charlie returned the grip and nodded. On Gor, sexist shithole of the Universe. He could only hope he was not Arrass' wet dream in a collar and silk fripperies when he woke up again. Dream Diver stood at the foot of the chairs, the glyphs in their cloak pulsing faintly in the dimmed lighting of the alcove. Farnsworth and Belle had left them to it, waiting outside for whatever happened to happen and not get caught up in the events unfolding. Charlie watched the entrancing lighting effects of Dream Diver's cloak, muzzily wondering what it would be like on Gor, would he change like Bob changed? What would happen, when would he wake up there, puzzled by the feeling of rocks and grass under his back... * * * * * * * * Althenius cuffed the side of Bob's head again and his scream cut off abruptly. Wild thoughts raced through Bob's shocked mind as he looked up at the two impossible moons, he was on Gor, he was a girl, he was a kajira on Gor, he was locked in chains and a collar on Gor, Althenius was holding him, owned him, he was a female slave on Gor he... Althenius dragged the dazed girl back into his chambers and pushed her to her knees on the carpet. "Nadu!" he ordered. The girl looked up at him, her eyes showing she was still not fully cognisant of where she was, who she was, WHAT she was. Her mouth moved, he heard her say something, she looked around wildly and her mouth opened, to scream again. Althenius pulled his hand back and her mouth closed abruptly. Good, she was learning what it was to be kajira. He kicked her knees wide. "Nadu," he repeated. She pulled at her wrist bracelets a little, shifted as if to bring her knees back together in false modesty and then she froze as she saw his hand move slightly. Better. "Say it, girl. Nadu." The girl blinked, hesitating, then said, "Nadu," in a quiet defeated voice. "Again, and add 'Master'." She froze again, rebellion rising in her posture and her expression but she stopped of her own volition this time without him even having to make a move, his mere presence keeping her in check. "Nadu." She paused. "Master," she said almost inaudibly, looking down at the carpets covering the stone-flagged floor of his chambers. "Look up and repeat." Her head came up, her eyes still somewhat unfocused. "Nadu, Master." Her voice was stronger this time. "Again." "Nadu, Master." "Again." "Nadu, Master." The repetitions continued as Althenius prowled in a circle around Bob's kneeling form. "Again. Again. Again." Bob knew better than to turn his head to follow Althenius with his eyes, to break position. He was on Gor, he was a slave collared and chained, he was... He realised muzzily that he had repeated the phrase several times without Althenius prompting him, "Nadu, Master, nadu, Master, nadu..." He stopped as Althenius reappeared in his field of vision. "You will adopt nadu when you kneel before men, girl. Do you understand?" "Yes, I..." he saw Althenius' hand move again, "Yes, Master." "Good. I may not have to whip you tonight." Bob froze at the words. He was a slave girl on Gor, he'd read the books, he could be whipped, he WOULD be whipped... Althenius brought over a mirror on a stand and propped it up in front of Bob. "Look at yourself, girl." Bob looked at the naked blonde-haired slave kneeling open-kneed, in nadu on the rich carpets, the sirik chain running from her collar down to her close-braceleted hands and then down between her open legs to the similarly close-chained rings locked around her ankles. Her cheeks were red from the slaps she had been dealt, he felt the stinging pain even now. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes blinking from strain and half-expressed tears, focussed blearily on the mirror's reflection of himself, Bob. "Repeat after me. 'La kajira.'" Bob hesitated then said "La kajira." He didn't want to be slapped again. He DEFINITELY didn't want to be whipped. "Look at the mirror and repeat, 'La kajira.'" "La kajira." Bob watched the girl in the mirror say the strange words but somehow they didn't sound strange in her full-lipped mouth, didn't sound wrong. Was it something intrinsic to this female body he was stuck in? He tried to recall what the words meant from the books but there weren't a lot of actual Gorean words in them, they were written in English obviously but 'kajira' meant slave so... "Repeat the words until I tell you to stop. Look into the mirror, girl." "La kajira. La kajira. La kajira. La kajira. La kajira. La--" Althenius held up a hand. "You will repeat those words a hundred times every time you wake up. You will repeat them a hundred times before you go to sleep." Althenius smiled down at Bob's quizzical expression. "They are the first words a barbarian captive such as yourself learns on Gor. It means 'I am a slave.' Learn them well, little kajira." He gestured at the mirror. "'La kajira.' Repeat. Watch yourself say it." "La kajira. La kajira. La..." Bob mouthed the words while his mind raced. What could he do? How could he get out of this and back home, back into his real body, away from this asshole Althenius, away from Gor? Where was Charlie? Had the bastards killed him, or abducted him too? Farnsworth... Another slap brought him back to reality. Althenius was glaring down at him. "Pay attention! Do you want to be whipped right now? I will--" "La kajira! La kajira! La kajira!" Bob very carefully kept his eyes on the mirror in front of him, the collared and chained girl in the silvered glass visibly terrified of the red-tunicked figure standing over her as she chanted the degrading words, the repeated declaration of her slavery, the spoken acceptance of her position in this world. "I am a slave! I am a slave! I am a slave!" Charlie, where are you? Help me... Althenius relented when the girl started blinking and trembling, mumbling the words. She was obviously exhausted combineed, he presumed, with the lingering effects of the drug used on her to good effect during her abduction. A good start though, he thought to himself. Let her sleep now, wake afresh in the morning to the revelation of her new position, her forever place at his feet, her continued existence as his instrument of revenge. He would savour her descent into absolute slavery, relish her every little rebellion and outraged refusal to accept her destiny and then, and then... slave rape was a quick and easy way to break a girl to the collar, to destroy their spirit and make them accepting of their brand and the whip. The other girls who had been marched over to the villa's slave quarters were getting that treatment right now. For this girl, this special case, he could wait. Let her think she could avoid that fate, that the collar around her neck wasn't real, that she wasn't truly a slave. Correcting her misapprehension at that point would be yet another victory. He looked forward to it. He dragged the half-comatose girl to her feet and carried her to the furs at the end of his sleeping platform. A quick snap and she was close- chained by her collar to the Master ring, unable to stand but with enough liberty to arise and kneel properly when she awoke. It would be good practice for her, to be in nadu on the furs. He left her locked in her close sirik chains, she would have to get used to sleeping with her limbs confined like that. Chains and cuffs and binding fibre were going to be an almost permanent part of her existence from now on. She said something sleepily as she turned, burrowing into the dark soft furs, a name? No matter. Her previous life, the people she knew before, their names were of no account in her future existence. She would forget them in time as she grew into her new reality. He paused only to carress one full soft breast, rolling a stiffening nipple between thumb and finger before whispering, "Sweet dreams, little one," into her ear - she should wear earrings, maybe tomorrow? They were deliciously degrading signs of slavery on a kajira, a nose ring too - and leaving his sleeping chamber. He had other matters to attend to tonight after his return from the barbarian world. He stopped at the doorway to look back at the seductive shape chained on his furs, his lust for her increasing but he turned away, resolute for the moment. Later, my delightful little toy, later. * * * * * * * * Arrass was already on his feet, looking around alertly as Charlie rolled over on the wet grass, blinking. "Gor..." Arrass' single whispered word held overtones of awe and reverence. So it worked? He was on the imaginary world of Gor and... quick check, he was still Charlie, not Charlene or whatever, dressed in the cargo pants and jacket-of-many-pockets he had been wearing in Farnsworth's Secret Underground Lair when he went to sleep rather than a collar and silks as he had half-feared, half-expected. He climbed to his feet, reflexively patting his pockets to check the contents were still there. Yup, he was fully equipped to do his day job for what it was worth on this violent hellhole of a fake planet. Kevlar body armour and a bunch of guns might have been more appropriate but he wouldn't have known how to use them so it probably didn't matter. He looked around, following Arrass' gaze to see some buildings surrounded by a wall on a low rise in the distance. The sun was below the horizon to one side, the clouds gleaming faintly, giving just enough light for them to see their surroundings. Was it morning or night? He had no idea where East was, his watch would be no clue as to what time it was here... Arrass gestured and they moved off towards some shadowy trees to one side of their arrival point. The grass was, well he didn't know much about vegetation, he was a city boy born and raised, but it smelled different somehow, acrid and powdery. So this is not Earth, he mused. I'm on an alien planet. Wow. Arrass stopped at the edge of the trees which again didn't look too alien to Charlie, but he suspected they would have given an Earth-born botanist fits. The armoured figure gestured with his spear. "That will be the villa of the traitor Althenius of Cos." Arrass shrugged, an odd smile on his face. "I have no way of knowing for certain but I trust the words of Farnsworth of the Caste of Physicians, that he would put me within reach of Althenius' black heart." If this was really a story world like Farnsworth said then that place had to be where they had to go, Charlie mused. No need wasting pages of paper or minutes of film having them appear at the wrong place after all. Arrass moved towards the walled villa, holding himself low in the tall grass. Charlie followed suit with greater difficulty. OK, he was a lot bigger than Arrass but he wasn't wearing thirty pounds of metal plates and carrying a ginormous spear and he still made more noise than he was comfortable with. This is fucking dangerous, he thought to himself. It wasn't actually much of a protective wall, he decided on closer inspection. It was nothing like the pictures of castles and such in the history books, no more than twelve feet tall, no ramparts or anything. Arrass pulled Charlie down into a slight depression about a hundred yards from what looked like a small gateway in the wall. "No tarn wires," muttered Arrass, peering knowledgeably at the wall and the buildings inside. "Tarn wires?" Charlie asked quietly. Arrass explained that most defensive structures on Gor used a network of fine steel wires strung between high points to stop attackers riding tarns, giant birds from penetrating their defenses. Giant birds? OK, that maybe explained why the walls weren't too high if someone could just fly over them. Arrass pointed to a tower off to one side of the buildings, maybe thirty feet high. It was apparently a tarn stable where such birds would be kept. Arrass scanned the top of the wall, obviously looking for watchers or sentries but it seemed no-one was there. "Careless," muttered Arrass. He shifted the grip on his spear then led the way in a scuttling rush towards the small doorway in the wall. Charlie followed, trying to be a hole in the night, but there weren't that many ninjas his size in the story books, for good reason. They made it to the wall's shadow without any kind of an alarm being raised. The door in the gateway was a simple wooden structure, just big enough for a single person to pass through, braced with iron bars supporting the hinges at one side. There was a grille at eye-level and a large lock at the other side of the hinges. Arrass peered through the grille and then jerked back silently, pulling Charlie with him. He moved two fingers, like a man walking. There was someone on the other side of the door, probably a sentry of some kind patrolling inside. Arrass thought for a moment and then gestured at the door, pantomiming a shoulder charge to break it open with Charlie's bulk assisting him. Not a good idea, thought Charlie as he shook his head. That door looked like it was built to resist being smashed open easily. The first noisy impact would attract attention and the alarm would be raised. After that all hell would break loose and they'd still be outside, probably getting attacked from the top of the wall with spears and maybe boiling oil or the Gorean equivalent. However that keyhole looked... inviting. He licked his lips. A new toy to play with. Charlie pulled Arrass away from the gateway, holding up a hand to forestall any objections before he knelt at the door. He pulled assorted probes and other items out of his pockets, positioning them between his thick fingers as he studied the large lock, squinting through the keyhole to make out any details visible in the half-light. He couldn't use a torch, he'd have to do it all by feel... the first step was a generous dose of graphite lube squirted into the mechanism. He wasn't wanting to fight rust and neglect when he laid bare its inner secrets and the lock looked like it wasn't used much. Arrass stood over his shoulder, peering through the grille as Charlie worked with the largest probes he carried, feeling for the wards and persuading the bolt levers to disengage from their locked position. Suddenly Arrass' hand clamped down on his shoulder and he stopped, hearing the sound of heavy footsteps on the flagstones inside the wall, a presumed sentry making his rounds. The sound receded, Arrass' grip loosened and Charlie continued. The lock turned out to be simple with few security features, his mental model of how it worked complete after only a minute or so of probing and testing. He changed tools to a suitable skeleton key and slowly turned it in the lock, moving it back and forth, easing the bolt back gradually as he worked his way around the wards. He felt rather than heard the final movement as the bolt retracted fully and he looked up at Arrass, gesturing to indicate the door was now unlocked. Arrass laid his spear carefully against the wall and pulled a short wide- bladed dagger from his belt before he peered through the grille again. They waited, Charlie holding his breath, Arrass breathing steadily but almost silently, then suddenly Arrass pushed the door open and charged through, knocking Charlie to one side in the process. There was a scuffle, an impact of metal on flesh, a groan, the smell of blood and by the time Charlie was through the door himself Arrass was kneeling over a recumbent figure, his dagger plunging into the body before him with a meat-chopping sound. It was the first time Charlie had ever seen a fight to the death, the first time someone had been killed before his eyes. His heart raced, he looked away from the scene but he knew it would happen again tonight, more than once. Find Bob, get him out of here and back home. That was the key thing, the only thing that mattered. He told himself these people weren't real, they were just part of the story so whatever happened to them didn't matter any more than the people killed in books and movies mattered. The smell of blood didn't go away though. Still no alarm, good, but the dead sentry would be missed or someone else would come along and discover the body and then things would escalate. They didn't have much time. Arrass dragged the body off to one side and tucked it away behind a bush - they were in some kind of a garden with the villa's main buildings accessible via an open pathway up through the carefully tended greenery and flowers. The blood on the flagstones wasn't going to be hidden so easily though. Arrass went outside and recovered his spear before coming back in and heading towards the villa. Charlie pushed the door shut, grimacing at the slight squealing noise of the hinges - I shoulda lubed them too - but left it unlocked. They might need to leave in a hurry. He followed the shadowy figure of Arrass up the path towards the villa, squeamishly avoiding the puddle of blood. The sky was lightening above him, his first dawn on a different world was approaching. Whether he would live to see the end of the day it heralded was another matter entirely. * * * * * * * * Bob woke up. He knew he was on Gor, he knew he was female and collared and a kajira, he knew he was chained at the foot of Althenius' sleeping platform, he knew Arrass and Charlie were coming to rescue him. He knew EVERYTHING with a clarity which lasted but for a moment and then it faded away, like a dream, his last vision that of a faceless hooded figure in a brown cloak. But Charlie and Arrass (why Arrass?) were on their way, he held fast to that singular piece of information as the other dream- memories faded and lost resolution in his consciousness. The certainty of dreams made way to physical reality as he struggled to his knees on the soft furs, the collar chain taut and his close- braceleted wrists and ankles restricting his movements. He looked around the sleeping chamber but there was no-one else there, he was alone - or was he? He glanced over at a wooden grille in the wall opposite, he had a feeling... there was someone hidden behind that latticework watching him, a shadow that he knew instinctively was an observer. It made sense in a way, Althenius seemed very possessive of him given his treatment last evening. Leaving him alone without being guarded, being watched was unlikely. So how should he behave? The guard behind the grille observed the kajira chained on the furs struggling clumsily upright from her slumber. She seemed unused to her collar and her chains and her position on the Master's furs but, he shrugged, she would get used to such conditions one way or another. He had heard she was a barbarian like the other girls brought to the slave quarters earlier, but for some reason Althenius of Cos, the owner of this villa and his oath-sworn Captain had taken a special interest in her. He had been set to keep watch on the sleeping girl by Althenius and to report what she did when she awoke. It was a boring but not particularly onerous duty - even in repose the girl was comely to look at as kajirae usually were, curvy and full-breasted. A collar made any girl desirable, it was said, even pot-and-kettle kitchen sluts. He was looking forward to the end of his duty here in the little room adjoining the Captain's sleeping chamber. He planned to eat and then go to the slave quarters where some new barbarian captives were being broken in, to lend his assistance with their induction into the Empty Caste of kajirae. His Captain had ordered that this particular girl, the blonde- haired kajira currently kneeling on the furs was not available for his pleasure but he had waved his hand in generous disregard when the guard inquired about the other captives delivered to the villa by the mysterious flying ship the previous evening. Help yourself. The guard grinned. He would help himself, but right now he was on duty and his duty was to observe. He watched as the girl on the furs wept, as she hopelessly pulled at her chains, as she fruitlessly tried to prise her collar from her throat, as she flailed and thrashed around on the furs to no avail. Definitely a barbarian, he thought to himself. Any Gorean woman taken captive and made kajira would know that Gorean chains and Gorean collars were not so easily divested by their wearers but, he had heard, barbarian women were unfamiliar with the obduracy of steel circlets secured on their wrists and ankles, the intransigence of steel collars locked around their slim throats, the steel bonds that held them subservient to the whims of their Masters. They learned in time, some more quickly than others, but eventually all of them came to a final soul-deep realisation that they were held by Masters without possibility of escape even if they stood naked and unrestrained by any physical bond. He made a note of the distraught kajira's hopeless behaviour on a scrap of parchment. His Captain would want to know all the details later. Bob breathed heavily, his eyes red from crying, his breasts rising and falling in what he hoped was a fine titty show for the hidden watcher. Thrashing around and trying to break free from his bonds was what they expected of him in this situation and he had obliged them but it wasn't his first time waking up chained on the furs after all, not by a long chalk. It had been a while since he didn't have keys available to free himself after he woke and that was a serious problem, but it still wasn't a deal-breaker. Charlie was coming to rescue him, he knew. He was calmer than he thought he should be at this point, more sure of things unknown such as the presence of that watcher. He was certain someone was there behind the grille, but how did he know that? The image of the cloaked figure, Dream Diver who he had met at the Xanadu Institute came to mind. They were involved in this somehow, he reasoned as settled back down. The dream last night was fading as dreams did but the other certainty left from that dream, that Charlie and Arrass were on their way to rescue him was probably a result of Dream Diver's efforts too in some way. Arrass was also coming... he let that thought trickle through his consciousness, envisioning Arrass but the figure in his mind wasn't wearing a tailored suit as he had been at the meeting in the Institute when he had 'sold' Bob to Charlie. The image behind his closed eyelids was of a short but well-built bearded man wearing old-style armour, carrying weapons and with a harsh determination in his eyes, a Warrior of Gor - and his Master? He shivered, the picture causing unnerving tremors to spike through his brain, down through his tightening chest and into his groin. He felt muscles in his pelvis he didn't know he possessed twitch reflexively and opened his eyes, banishing the somehow-erotic image from his thoughts. But... he reached down between his legs with a chained hand and felt a liquid dampness on his labia. Shit. The guardsman behind the latticework grille smiled and made another note on the scrap of parchment. The girl on the furs was adjusting to her change in circumstances quite well, it seemed. His Captain would be pleased to learn of this turn of events. Don't think about Arrass, he told himself as he wiped the viscous fluid off his fingertips onto the furs, but it was like trying to not think of something, it just intensified the images in his mind, bringing back recollections of Arrass French-kissing him at the end of the meeting in the Institute, the way his legs nearly buckled, his desire to kneel before his Master... Think, think, someone else, remember Alice as she was or Farnsworth, maybe or Belle or... Charlie? Yeah, Charlie was coming to rescue him. Think of Charlie. Charlie. Big solid reliable dependable Charlie. So why did the tightness in his chest remain? He shook his head, feeling his long blonde hair whip across his naked shoulders, reminding him where he was, who he was. Rescue was coming but when he had no idea, it could be days, weeks even. He had to get through the coming times safely and in this world, in this body, in these chains he was at serious risk of a Bad End. He had to appear subservient, slavish even to these dick-ass fuckers, properly kajira at least on the outside. Inside he was still who he had always been, Bob James, he had to remember that, he had to remain Bob James inside whatever happened. He stiffened his shoulders and took a long deep breath, further titillating the hidden watcher (he hoped). Time to put on a show, keep the suckers fooled, delay and put off what would otherwise be the inevitable fate of a captured female on this misogynistic planet. He definitely didn't want to lose his virginity a second time, especially not to Althenius of Cos. Charlie. Think of Charlie... The girl adopted nadu on the furs and started saying, "I am a slave girl!" repeatedly in a loud voice. The hidden guardsman suppressed a chuckle and made a further note on his parchment record - Althenius had told him that he had ordered the girl to repeat that phrase a hundred times when she woke and she was doing his bidding even though she thought she was alone and unobserved. Good girl. Her accent was terrible, her diction indistinct, but she was a barbarian. She would learn better or she would be whipped. Well, she would be whipped anyway, it was the fate of kajirae to be punished for unconscious infractions of their Master's will or simply because he felt the girl deserved a whipping. This one obviously wanted to put off that inevitable day for as long as possible. He imagined this girl, her blonde hair flying as she writhed and screamed under the nine-bladed girl-whip's caress, her pleading and sobbing and he felt himself stiffen at the thought. Maybe he would whip one of the new kajirae over in the slave quarters after he had taken her on the slave rack. It was common to whip new slaves after they had been branded and raped, to emphasise their position in Gorean society and to demonstrate the unpredictable nature of their future existence within the collar. Surely those stalwart fellows working in the slave quarters would appreciate someone fresh to help them out in their necessary labour, he mused. Their arms must be getting tired by now. Amongst other things. * * * * * * * * Elsewhere in the villa in a small office with no windows and a locked door Althenius of Cos was writing his report to his superiors, the shadowy Kurii who gave him his orders, provided him with this villa and its retainers and rewarded his successes with gold and yet more tasks. He had successes to boast about in his report but the necessity to encode the message quickly and get it on its way meant he had to be succinct. The bare details would suffice, he decided, eleven Earth women brought to Gor to be enslaved, branded and made ready for sale after some basic slave training. They would be shipped off to a number of different slave markets in a few days time. The extra slave chained in his sleeping quarters, well, his superiors didn't need to know about her right now. They might misunderstand his actions and intentions in her regard although they were themselves well- versed as a race in the arts of revenge and vendetta and feud. Generally though they kept such entertainments well separated from business and he had let his own desires get in the way of his operations on Earth. Still, eleven collars filled in a single Voyage of Acquisition was a good haul. He would do better next time. He finished the conversion of his brief report into coded numbers and letters on a separate piece of paper, then committed the original draft to the fire burning in the grate beside him. A tarn and its rider were awaiting the encoded document at the tarn stables, to take it to a distant location where it would be exchanged for fresh orders, also encoded, which the tarn rider would return with. It would be at least two days though before he would know what those orders were. In the meantime, the girl chained to the Master ring in his sleeping chambers would provide him with much entertainment. He also planned to visit the other girls under training in the slave quarters - there was a particular redhead there who had somehow piqued his interest. She would be kajira by now, collared and branded and slave-raped and her slave papers filled out, but he felt she deserved a whipping for some reason - or no reason at all, he assured himself. It would be good practice for when he secured Arrass' precious slave by her wrists to a high wall ring and he used a girl-whip on her back and breasts for the first time. After that, well... a 'traitor' brand might be appropriate, burned cleanly into the skin above her left breast to mark her for all to see as untrustworthy, as Arrass his Captain had branded him, Althenius of Cos as not worthy of his loyalty. Business first though. He unlocked the door and left the small office carrying the encoded document in his belt pouch, heading for the slave quarters adjoining the main villa. Before he sent off the report he wanted to ensure that nothing was amiss there, that his orders had been followed and the slaves delivered by the Kur spaceship were being properly processed. After that he'd check in on his special captive and get a report from the guardsman he had appointed to secretly observe her sleeping form. By then it would be light enough for the messenger tarn, a creature of the day, to fly off with his message. He'd deliver the coded report personally into the courier's hand at the tarn stables. Only then would his work would be complete and it would be time to relax, to play with his new toy. He glanced over at the horizon, the light clouds underlit by the rising sun. It was going to be a fine morning. Perhaps he would put the girl through her slave paces in the garden. Fresh air was good for kajirae, it was said. * * * * * * * * Charlie followed Arrass into some kind of covered walkway running alongside the villa, catching his breath as Arrass looked left and right, his spear poised in his hand. Arrass said something softly in Gorean, Charlie only caught the name 'Althenius' in the gobbledygook, before he stopped. "Sorry, friend Charles," he apologised. Charlie figured Arrass was going native on him now that he was back on Gor - although he's never actually been here before and it's not really a real place and he's actually Alice and never mind - and Charlie didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Arrass pointed with his spear over at a low building to one side of the villa, separated by more gardens and bushes. "The slave quarters where Bibi and the others are being kept is over there, I believe." He pointed again. "The carts there to one side of the door are for transporting slaves." The carts in question were large cage- like vehicles, four-wheeled with empty traces. Charlie took his word for it. "So we go over there now, get, ah, Bibi?" Charlie didn't know how much use he'd be in a fight but... Arrass shook his head. "My first task is to deal with the traitor Althenius. He will be inside this building, in his sleeping quarters at this time of day." He looked Charlie up and down and sighed. "It would be best if you waited out here, friend Charles." "You're not going to rescue Bob? Bibi I mean?" Charlie's voice was louder than he intended it to be.. "Keep your voice low, please, friend Charles." Arrass looked around quickly, then settled back in the shadows again. "She is a slave, nothing more." He gestured -- stay down -- as Charlie started to rise from his crouch, fists clenched. "Yes, I know you have feelings for her but she will keep. She is undoubtedly well-secured where she is, she is not just going to up and fly away from you is she?" Arrass hefted his spear, a touch of anger leaking into his voice. "Althenius of Cos is another matter. If we entered the slave quarters and I started wetting my spear with blood an alarm would be sounded and I want the sleen Althenius dead at my feet before that happens." "So what do I do, just wait here?" Charlie said bitterly, but he knew Arrass wouldn't be deterred. It was why he had travelled to Gor after all. "Yes. It is best you wait here." Arrass obviously had the same opinion of Charlie's combat abilities as Charlie himself did. Arras pointed to a door in the villa's wall nearby. "After you unlock this door for me, Charles of the Caste of Metal Workers. Please?" Charlie took a deep breath, sighed and reached into his pockets again. I should bill him for this, my regular night-time call-out rates... * * * * * * * * Arrass prowled along the dimly-lit corridor, alert for any sound or sense of guards or others, his spear ready to silence them before an alarm could be sounded. He glanced back at the closed but unlocked door behind him - Charles of the Caste of Metal Workers had unlocked it with his accustomed skill but, sadly, his abilities in other fields were sadly lacking. He was no Warrior to be sure but he would not make a good hunter either, being clumsy and, well, just large and highly visible. Concealment and discretion were not part of his makeup. Arrass hoped Charles would not be discovered by the villa's guards before he, Arrass had achieved his primary goal of dealing with the sleen Althenius. If Charles was discovered, well, Arrass had instructed him to surrender immediately if he was confronted by armed guards. He could be rescued later if he was still alive, perhaps. Generally though Goreans tended to kill intruders first and accept surrenders later, especially when it might involve subjugating someone of Charles' intimidating stature. If he was a female it would have been a different matter of course, as females were always worth taking alive. Their capture (Panther Girls excepted) presented little or no danger to men and collaring female captives was always an option, either for immediate pleasure or to take a future profit in coin, or indeed both. The Physician Farnsworth's comments at the Institute before they went sent on their way to Gor suggested the possibility that Charles might have arrived on Arrass' home world in female form. It might have been a safer option for the clumsy giant, perhaps given the strong possibility of his capture by Althenius' men. Arrass spent a few seconds musing on what a female Charles might have looked like - something like Farnsworth's slave Belle perhaps? He had developed an odd taste for the haughty statuesque blonde during their two encounters at the Institute and he felt a growing desire to have her in his collar, even at one point dreaming of his own slave Bibi wearing Belle's outrageous clothing. How would having a female version of Charles as his kajira work out though? The ethical quandary of collaring someone he had regarded previously as a good friend was problematic, but if Charles was female and she had been captured by others and enslaved by them then taking her from her original owners at spearpoint or even buying her and keeping her collared would not trouble him overmuch even if she was actually his good friend Charles trapped inside a kajira's body. However Charles had not actually changed form after he arrived on Gor. Of course, Arrass speculated, Charles might yet change if, for example, he was about to be captured since the odd way they had both arrived here did not preclude such an unlikely occurrence. If he attempted to surrender immediately if he was discovered, perhaps he might yet change in a way that would enhance his chances of surviving albeit trading that survival for a possible future life as a kajira. For a moment Arrass envisioned a tall blonde figure, collared, branded, being put through slave paces on a sales block while he, Arrass, watched from the crowd, the bids rising from copper into silver, his own hand going up... he wondered if that vision had been a harbinger of a time to come? Farnsworth's mention of his cloaked compatriot's ability to see the future suggested it might come true. Hmmm... would he be willing to bid gold to win her if such an event happened? First things first though. Arrass peered around a corner, his spearblade ready for an instant thrust but there was no-one there, nothing visible other than a small cupboard-like door in the wall opposite. He let his Warrior senses taste the world around him, listening intently to his intuition. There was something, someone in the room behind that door that required his attention, and his blade. He moved forward, silent and undetected, slipping his dagger from its sheath. * * * * * * * * Althenius left the slave quarters and closed the heavy door behind him, hearing the door-guard inside slide a heavy bolt in place. You can't get the help these days, he mused, tapping his fingers on his belt pouch in annoyance. It had turned out half of his guard force if not more had been in the slave preparation area 'assisting' in processing the new captures. He had noted a lack of guards at various positions on his way to the slave quarters and had made a note to query his guard commander about this state of affairs. Conveniently but unfortunately the commander was in the slave quarters along with many of his subordinates, 'helping out' as he said. Althenius kept his temper, just, the vision of a red-headed man in his mind for some reason as the red-faced commander stuttered while he fumbled his loincloth back into place under his kilt. He would deal with the man later - a flogging this afternoon perhaps, in the courtyard before the assembled guardsmen and then dismissal of the incompetent fool, sending him packing from the villa. He was too busy to arrange it there and then though, the report in his pouch took precedence. A girl's scream from inside the slave quarters followed him as he walked away from the door. The slavers had been preparing to brand a girl when he arrived unannounced and they were now continuing with their necessary work, although several of the superfluous guards filling the room had crept out the door behind him and were scurrying back to their assigned posts. The girl being wrestled into the branding rack had been fighting her handlers, an unusual occurrence since most slaves were resigned to their fate or paralysed with terror and unable to oppose their captor's will when faced with the branding iron. He had a vague memory that the girl had been a Panther Girl of some sort, maybe that explained her feistiness. No matter, she was collared and restrained and in the hands of Gorean men and she had been successfully branded by the sounds of it despite her objections. He made a mental note about that particular girl, some buyers liked to buy kajirae who retained a combative spirit even after their enslavement, they enjoyed breaking them to the collar personally. There were also promoters and owners of entertainments who put on public shows involving gladiatorial contests between slaves, sometimes including female slave fighters as a novelty act. She might be a suitable commodity for someone in that business who was willing to pay over the odds for her. Althenius had counted female heads, eleven captives in total as detailed in his report. They were being processed in good order despite too many 'assistants' being present, and given a few days of basic slave training they'd be ready for sale. It was a shame he had no First Girl here, indeed the villa's remoteness meant there were only a handful of kajirae in residence, some pot-and-kettle girls in the kitchens and laundry room and a few of the guards had their own personal girls in addition, kept in a kennel cage behind the guard barracks. A competent First Girl could have been put in charge of training the new captures but instead it would be left to the guards and the other staff of the villa to teach them the basics of life as a slave on Gor. No matter, these slaves would not go to the sales block as trained and experienced kajirae to be sold for silver, they were copper tarsk girls at best although the ex-Panther Girl might sell for gold. He fixed his eyes on the main door of his villa where two guardsmen now stood firmly at attention - there had been no-one present as there should have been when he had left the villa a short time before, but no matter. It wasn't like a location this remote was likely to be assaulted or even suffer a sneak attack after all but that door was their duty post and they should have been there earlier. He'd go back to his sleeping chamber and personally introduce his kajira to some of the basic realities of being a slave on Gor, he decided, his visit to the slave quarters having whetted his appetite. The red-haired slave there had gone unwhipped, his anger at his guards dereliction of duty distracting him from his original intent but he had another recipient of his whip-arm waiting for him chained on his furs... The sun was still just below the sturdy wall protecting the villa from attack but the shadows which filled the gardens were lightening noticeably. He would spend some time exercising with the girl, then go to the tarn stables and send off the courier and return to his room afterwards - letting a girl hang in her bonds from a wall ring for a time after a whipping was recommended by the best authorities, to prevent her clawing at the agonising stripes across her back with her fingernails and thus disfiguring her skin. Her back should be allowed to heal naturally so that the skin did not scar and harden and become unnaturally insensitive, something that might dilute the effectiveness of future whippings. The time between his first visit to his rooms and his return after dispatching the report would ultimately be to the girl's benefit, indeed. She should be grateful for his consideration in this regard but slaves were earthy creatures of the flesh, not prone to the deeper philosophical thought processes of free men. For that reason he did not expect any thanks or appreciation for his anticipated act of kindness to Arrass' little she-sleen. The guardsmen saluted and opened the doors for him as he approached, their eyes avoiding his own hooded glance. He stopped for a moment to make them sweat then proceeded, swinging his right arm idly, as if limbering up. The doors closed behind him with a loud thump. Clumsy oafs. Perhaps he'd have more than one whipping post erected in the courtyard this afternoon. * * * * * The guardsman in the spy alcove looked up as a gentle tap came from the door behind him. It would be his Captain come for a report on his observations of the kajira chained on the furs in Althenius' sleeping chamber. He put down his charcoal stick and turned to open the door, moving quietly so as not to reveal his presence to the kneeling girl in the room beyond the concealing latticework. It would not do to let a mere slave know that they could be observed discreetly, keeping them ignorant made them easier to manipulate. "Captain?" he whispered as he unbolted the door and swung it open on silent hinges. He blinked, his eyes still adjusting to the low light of the corridor outside, momentarily puzzled at the figure who stood there. Why was his Captain armed and armoured, and surely he was taller than-- Arass' dagger thrust upwards, under the unsuspecting guard's chin and deep into his brain, killing him instantly, a gush of blood pouring over his dagger hand. He pulled the body forward out of the doorway as quickly as he could, ready to deal with anyone else behind the unfortunate door- opener but the man had been alone. He glanced up and down the corridor, no-one had heard the slight noises of murder, he could hear no shouts of alarm, no-one was coming to investigate. He glanced down and shrugged - hiding the man's body was pointless due to the amount of blood spilled on the floor and walls. Keep going. What was in the room? He stepped over the dead body and entered. It was a small room, barely a cupboard with an open latticework frame in the opposite wall letting in light from a room beyond. He peered through the lattice. His eyes widened in recognition as he whispered, "Bibi." * * * * * Bob tried very hard not to stare at the latticework window across the sleeping chamber - there had been faint noises behind it a moment ago, something had happened but he had to pretend he didn't know the window's secret, to deceive the hidden watcher. He continued to kneel, open- legged, in 'nadu' as it was called on Gor, still chained in sirik of course. His mind went back to the night before - was it only one night, he had been kidnapped, drugged and transported to a freaking other planet with its two moons, had that only taken a single night? Whatever - when he had, as a joke, for a laugh, chained himself up like this to clean the kitchen and score a point against Charlie. The keys he meant to use to free himself afterwards were probably still on the apartment's kitchen table where he had left them, a planet away and far out of reach. The other keys, Althenius' keys were not within his reach here on Gor. They wouldn't be left where a chained slave could get hold of them here, he was pretty sure. He had stopped repeating the phrase "I am a slave" some time back, having lost count - Althenius had commanded him to say it a hundred times when he woke up but it was a pointless exercise, an excuse to punish him when he got it wrong or forgot to do it. He glanced over at the wall beside the room's door, there was a short-handled whip handing there on a hook, an odd-looking item like something from a fetish shop with multiple strands each about two feet long. He knew exactly what it was for and it was no fetish-shop item made from nylon strands or something similarly innocuous, it was a common Gorean tool, workmanlike leather meant to deliver real pain and suffering to the one it was used on. That whip could be used on me, it WILL be used on me, Bob thought and shivered as his imagination ran riot. He pulled fruitlessly at his chained hands and shifted nervously on the furs (but he did not break nadu, he might still be being watched). Charlie, where the fuck are you? Get me out of this fucking place... The door opened suddenly and Bob's heart thudded in his chest as Althenius stepped into the sleeping chamber, looking furious for some reason. His hard eyes focussed on Bob kneeling on the furs and he nodded as if confirming something to himself then he approached his captive, his hand digging in his belt pouch. Bob was surprised how fast the slim figure could move, even after seeing him in action during the meeting at the Institute when he had pulled a knife and attempted to attack Charlie. A hard hand pushed Bob down awkwardly on the furs and he felt Althenius grip his chained ankles. What the... there was a click, he felt one ankle ring open and another click and the other ring opened too and his ankles were free and what was Althenius going to do with him on the furs, his legs freed - oh shit Charlie! Where are you - and then Althenius unlocked Bob's collar chain and dragged him to his unsteady feet. The girl's face was flushed, her breathing harsh and heavy as she pulled feebly away from his grip on her upper arm but she wasn't going anywhere. He caught the lower end of the sirik chain and jerked her forward, stumbling and clumsy on her cramped legs. The sirik was beautiful on a kajira's limbs but it was also utilitarian - uncuff only her ankles and the linking chain turned into an effective leash, allowing the girl to be led wherever the Master desired, her chained hands held out in apparent supplication before her. It had other uses too... Bob was led helplessly to the wall where the scowling Althenius threaded the loose end of the sirik chain and its open ankle bracelets through a steel ring mounted high on the wall. He pulled on the chain and Bob's arms rose high above his head, trapping him there, the upper chain segment between his wrist bracelets and his collar pulling his chin up. Althenius clipped the end of the sirik chain to a small wall hook at hip- level and then stood back to admire his handiwork. Bob was held securely in place, amazed at how easy it had been for Althenius to position him here, how quickly it had been achieved, his arms held high by the sirik bracelets against the metal ring, why was he... and then he saw Althenius pluck the whip from its hook beside the wall ring and he knew what was going to happen to him and he screamed, "CHARLIE!" Althenius smiled as the girl shuddered in her bonds, the realisation of what he was going to do to her, how she was going to suffer at his hands, finally struck home. She was shouting a name, over and over, demanding they come to save her in her barbarian tongue but rescue would not come, it would never come, not for Arrass' little slave here on Gor. Althenius moved the girl's long blonde hair over her shoulders, allowing it to drape over her delicious breasts, exposing her back fully to his gaze. He stroked a fingertip down her spine, watching her jerk at the touch, twisting and pulling at her bracelets as if she could escape her bonds, her fate, his whip... He slid his hand up between her legs and laughed as she squealed and her efforts to free herself redoubled, in vain of course and he decided that he would take her White Silk status after all, today, sooner than he had first intended but he would whip her before that happened. Afterwards as she swung from the wall-ring weeping he could open her legs, lift her onto his manhood and introduce her to the world of the Red Silk slave. Pain and pleasure, the certainties of a kajira, her back screaming in agony, her virgin's blood dripping down her thighs as he thrust into her. Life is good, he decided as he turned the girl's face to the wall and prepared to deliver the first stroke of the whip, the first of many to come in her life. Bob's mind whited out as that rat-bastard Althenius touched him between his legs, his finger wiggling inquisitively in places Bob didn't really want to think about. He had screamed his throat raw calling for Charlie, hopelessly, helplessly, and he knew Charlie wasn't coming and what could he do even if he did turn up from nowhere? There was a sudden time- stopped silence, a white blankness in his mind and then a memory of dream came to him, of two figures standing before him, Charlie and... Arrass? Alice... no, Arrass, Alice didn't exist any more but Arrass... The she-sleen had frozen as he chose his spot for the first strike and then she screamed again, a name again but not the name from before. "ARRASS!" The hated name caught Althenius unaware and he hesitated for a single fatal moment. * * * * * Arrass gazed through the latticework at his slave, chained naked on the furs at the bottom of a sleeping platform in the room beyond. She looked... like a slave, a girl close-held in sirik, collar-chained to the Master ring, kneeling in nadu, pretty, blonde and definitely his Bibi but somehow she wasn't the slave he remembered pulling on a leash through the crowds at... somewhere, he couldn't remember, that Bibi was different, taller... his mind raced, confused. It was certainly the girl he had seen at the Institute, the one dressed in the outrageous outfit, the girl he had slave-kissed, she had responded to him as a slave should respond to her Master but now he felt disconnected from her. Was it because he had sold her to Charles? But he had bought her back from him, paid good gold for her at the Institute so why... Suddenly the door in the sleeping chamber opened and the sleen Althenius strode in. Arrass forced himself to stay calm, keeping his breathing slow and even and silent as he watched him unchain Bibi and drag her to a wall-ring and secure her there, obviously preparing to whip her. Good, that would distract Althenius, while he was concentrating on whipping Bibi Arrass could make his way around the corner in the corridor and surprise the traitor, forcing his way into the room through the unbarred door. There might be guards positioned in the corridor outside the sleeping chamber door but they would only delay him for a moment or two, not enough time for Althenius to react before he could deliver a killing blow. As for Bibi, well, slaves were whipped as a matter of course - her Master, Charles must have beaten her before now surely, Bibi could be annoyingly disobedient on occasion after all. He could put her time under the whip to good use occupying Althenius' attention for an important few Ihn and she was, after all, only a slave chained to a wall-ring. Bibi was now screaming for her Earth-born Master, Charles but the villa's walls were thick and he was outside and he probably couldn't hear her. Arrass saw her freeze for a moment as Althenius slid his hand up between her legs and then she screamed a new name, "ARRASS!" and his mind went white. * * * * * Bob pushed his body at the wall, trying to get away from the whip stroke that he knew was on its way but knowing he couldn't avoid it, he was chained and held and it was something a thousand, a million slaves had faced and endured before him and he was no different to them, in body at least. He sobbed, his throat raw with pointless calls for rescue from someone who wasn't coming, who just weren't there when he needed them. His frozen-rabbit gaze fell on the latticework window as he pressed his cheek against the stone wall and he saw a shadow move behind it. Is whoever's there hoping for a good view? They've got a ringside seat after all, was his last coherent thought before an armoured figure smashed bodily through the flimsy latticework and rolled to its feet. It was Arrass! Althenius was astonished at the sight of his hated enemy standing before him, appearing as if from nowhere but he reacted swiftly, throwing the whip in his hand at Arrass' face as he dived for a stool at one side of the doorway. Arrass brushed the whip away but he couldn't dodge the stool that Althenius threw at him, not completely. It caught him on the shoulder, sending him to one knee for a moment. "Guards!" yelled Althenius as he swept up a scabbarded short-sword hanging on the wall nearby. The sleeping chamber door opened and a guard stepped through, looking around in a puzzled manner. Arrass' thrown spear caught him high on the chest and he fell backwards through the open door. Althenius lunged at Arrass while he was distracted by the guard's entry, but his blade was caught and deflected as Arrass swept his own sword from its scabbard. Bob watched, open-mouthed, his arms chained high above his head and helpless to intervene as the two traded vicious blows before him and then a few seconds later the tip of Arrass' sword slid effortlessly into Althenius' chest and his captor fell to the carpet, a bloody froth bubbling from his open mouth. Arrass was at the door a moment later, peering left and right before he recovered his spear from the still-twitching body of the unfortunate guard. He thrust the spear again into the guard's throat, silencing him forever then returned to the room. Bob stared petrified at Arrass, seeing him clearly for the first time since he had crashed his way through the latticework. His armour was smeared with blood, his hands and forearms red and reeking. His grip on his sword and spear were firm though, his eyes flicking from side to side as he sought further threats and enemies. Bob saw his shoulders relax as he found nothing that he needed to kill and destroy and then Arrass focussed his gaze on the figure chained to the wall, Bob. "Bibi." Arrass sounded disappointed, somehow as he spoke Bob's slave name. He bent and picked up the fallen slave-whip - what the fuck, is he going to... - and shook his head in amusement at the terrified expression that flitted across Bob's face. "Later, perhaps," he said, tucking the whip into his belt. Bob slumped, unable to stand upright any more as the adrenaline rush wore off leaving him hanging painfully from his braceleted wrists. Arrass searched Althenius' belt pouch and took out a bunch of keys before digging deeper and recovering some coins and a small paper package. "Get me down from here," croaked Bob tiredly. He wanted down, he wanted out, he wanted off this Gods-be-damned rotten stinking murderous planet, he wanted to go home, he wanted to go back to his own real body, he never ever wanted to do anything like this ever again. Fuck adventure, fuck excitement and fuck Xanadu and... Arrass unclipped the end of the sirik chain from the wall-hook and Bob collapsed to the floor as the chain rattled through the high wall-ring, only hesitating as the open ankle rings caught for a moment before falling free. The ankle rings landed heavily on his breasts, a final whimsical insult added to the previous few minutes of terror and helpessness. "Oww," he whimpered. He rubbed the injured masses then stopped abruptly as he realised Arrass was watching appreciatively. He stared up at his saviour who stared down at him with equal intenseness, the silence lasting too long until they both broke off, looking away simultaneously. Weird, thought Bob as he tried and failed to roll over on his side, handicapped by his close-cuffed hands, I thought I'd be all submissive and wet for Arrass but just now there was nothing... it was a pleasant surprise. Arrass' hand grasped Bob's slim arm and lifted him to his feet easily, as easily as Althenius had