Fighting Slave of Gor

26 I MAKE THE LADY FLORENCE MY PRISONER; WE FLEE THROUGH THE TUNNELS

There was a tearing of cloth. "No!" she cried, twisting away from him, terrified, running to the wall.

He beckoned to her with his left hand. His right hand held a sword. "Come here, my beauty," he coaxed her.

"No, please!" she cried. She was breathing heavily. She was terrified. Her right hand held her robes about her left shoulder, from which they had been torn.

The rough fellow, bearded, grinning, sheathed his sword.

"Show me mercy!" she begged.

"I will show you the mercy which a master shows his slave," he laughed.

He approached her and, as she wept, he tore down her robes to the waist.

I heard a girl screaming in the outer hall. It was probably Bonnie.

The rough fellow then, laughing, snapped slave bracelets on the wrists of the Lady Florence.

She cried out with fear as I seized the fellow by the back of the neck, thrusting my hand up under the helmet, and hurled him head-first into a wall. Stunned he turned about. I was on him in an instant. He could not free his sword or dagger. I thrust his helmeted face back again, the side of it, forcibly, against the wall. I then jerked loose the helmet strap and, by the crest, tore away the helmet, backward, almost breaking the fellow's neck. I then turned him about, measuring him. He could not defend himself. He must wait for my blow. I struck him on the left side of the jaw. His head snapped to the side and he sank, senseless, to the floor. I then stepped back. He was senseless at my feet.

"Jason!" cried the Lady Florence.

I looked at her.

She reddened, blushing from the waist up. "I am braceleted!" she said, lifting her small, encircled wrists.

"You look well in slave bracelets," I told her.

She blushed, even more darkly.

"Free me," she said.

I regarded her.

"Free me!" she begged.

I went to the pouch of the fallen man and found there the key to the slave bracelets. I took them from her wrists. She rubbed her wrists, for the man had braceleted her tightly. "How horrifying is the feel of slave steel on a woman's body," she said.

"It is not horrifying," I said. "It is joyful and delicious."

"Surely I am the judge of that," she said.

"If it was horrifying," I said, "you would not now be sexually excited and filled with desire."

"I am not!" she said.

"Do you think such things cannot be told from your breathing, the mottling of your skin, the condition of your nipples, the timbre of your voice?"

"No," she said, "no!" Quickly she pulled up the robes about her body, holding them at her throat. I could still see her shoulders.

I shrugged.

"There are others about," she said, frightened. "More brigands."

"I am well aware of that," I said. "And these, or others like them, have struck at the holdings, too, of Dorto and Gordon."

"Where are the guardsmen of Vonda?" she asked.

"If any have escaped in the direction of Vonda," I said, "perhaps they may be here tomorrow, by nightfall."

"Tomorrow, by nightfall?" she said, in dismay.

"Perhaps," I said.

Then we were suddenly quiet, for we heard men in the hall outside. We heard, too, the crying of a girl. We stood, not moving. Through a crack in the door we saw two men pass.

One of the men was dragging a girl, nude, at his side, she bent over, his hand in her hair. It was Bonnie.

"Save me from these men," moaned the Lady Florence.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why they will make me a slave," she said.

"You would make a lovely slave," I told her.

"Please, Jason," she said, intensely, looking up at me. "Please, Jason!" How small and weak then seemed the Mistress, how pathetic and needful, and how far removed from the proud and imperious woman who had once, so casually and insolently, commanded me. "Please, Jason!" she said.

I looked down at her, not speaking.

"I will free you," she said suddenly, intensely.

I did not speak.

"You are free," she said. "You are free."

She fled from me to a small vanity by the wall, near her bed. She seized out a key from a drawer and fled again to me, holding her robes about her with her left hand.

"Remove the collar," I told her.

"Please, Jason," she said.

"Remove it," I said.

Blushing she allowed her robes to fall about her hips and, with two hands, holding the collar with her left and inserting the key with her right, she removed it from my throat. She bent down and placed the collar and key on the floor. She hesitated, for the briefest instant, realizing that she had bent her body before me, and then, quickly, she straightened up. I still held the slave bracelets I had removed from her in my right hand. The key I had placed in a fold in the cloth belt of my half tunic.

She smiled. "You are now a free man, Jason," she whispered.

"Today, earlier," I said, "I defeated Krondar, a fighting slave of Ar, purchased by Miles of Vonda."

"My congratulations on your victory," she said.

"I want a woman," I said. "Do not touch your robes." Her hands hesitated, but did not touch her robes. Her body was small and soft, and beautifully rounded, before me. How incredibly beautiful women are!

"Of course," she said, nervously. "That is understandable. You may have your pick."

I threw the slave bracelets to the bed. They landed on the wide bed, striking into the soft covers. She looked at them, nervously.

"Jason?" she asked.

I looked at her.

"You may have your pick!" she said.

"I know," I said.

She looked up at me, trembling.

"Take your clothes off, completely," I told her. "Get in bed."

"No," she whispered. "No!"

"Lie on the bed, on your stomach," I told her.

"No!" she said.

"Must you be beaten?" I asked.

"No," she said, frightened. "No." She stepped from her robes and slippers and went to the bed. She lay down upon it, on her stomach. I sat down beside her on the bed. "You may have your pick," she moaned. I pulled her wrists behind her: "The brigands are about," she wept. I snapped her wrists in the slave bracelets. "Oh," she said, for they were tight. I held her by the arms, from the back. "But you may have your pick!" she wept.

"I know," I told her. I then flung her on her back, on the broad bed. She looked up at me, frightened. "I pick you," I told her.

She who had been my Mistress gasped in my arms, and then she, her head back, breathed deeply. Her small wrists pulled futilely at the slave bracelets and then her struggles subsided.

"Do you know what you have done?" she asked.

"Yes," I told her. "Shhh!" I said to her, suddenly, for I heard men speaking, out-of-doors, near the window. Her body tensed in my arms, frightened.

"Have you caught the stable sluts?" a man was asking.

"One is still at large," he was answered.

"What of the house slaves?" asked the first voice.

"They wear our chains," he was answered.

"Tie them to the saddle rings," said the first voice. "We must soon take flight."

"Where is Orgus?" asked a man.

"He went after the Mistress of the house," said another voice.

"Where is he?" asked the first voice.

"Doubtless he is richly enjoying her," said a voice. I smiled. There was laughter.

"Are you the sort of woman who can be richly enjoyed?" I asked the helpless, braceleted wench in my arms.

"I am not the sort of woman who can be enjoyed," she hissed. "I am a free woman! I am the Lady Florence of Vonda! Oh! Oh!"

I laughed softly to myself. How little she understood the potentialities of her beauty.

"Oh, oh," she moaned.

"You have underestimated yourself, lovely Lady," I assured her.

She glared up at me.

"To be sure," I said, "you are a far cry from a slave."

"Sleen," she said, but then closed her eyes and yielded to the pleasures which I saw fit, she at my mercy, to inflict upon her. "Oh," she wept. "Oh."

"But not too far a cry," I added.

She did not even respond to me, but only cried out softly, moaning. The fullness of a woman's orgasms, of course, in the totality of their physiological and psychological dimensions can be attained only by the female slave, the woman who is fully owned and finds herself at the complete mercy of a dominating and powerful master. Nonetheless I found the responsiveness of the Lady Florence, even though it was still well within the ranges attainable by the free woman, to be quite impressive. I was proud of my former Mistress. I had little doubt but that if she were made a slave she could learn well the arts of pleasing a master.

"By the way," I asked, "where is that new slave whom you sent to please me in the tunnel?"

She looked up at me, frightened. "I sold her!" she said, quickly.

"She was a tasty little pudding," I said.

"A tasty little pudding!" cried the Lady Florence, angrily.

"Yes, rather like yourself," I said.

She looked at me in fury.

"Relax," I said. "For the time be content to be a tasty little pudding."

"Oh!" she said, closing her eyes. "Ah," she said. "Ah!"

"That is it," I said.

"You beast," she said, softly.

I kissed her.

"You shame me in my own bed," she whispered. "Oh, no!" she said. "Do not make me yield again!"

"Orgus! Orgus!" we heard cry.

"Do not make me yield again!" she begged.

"Yield!" I said.

She cried out, yielding, helpless.

"Hear her scream," laughed a man outside.

"Orgus is still busy with her," laughed another man.

"You bold sleen," wept the girl. "Surely we shall both be discovered!"

"Did you catch the other stable slut?" asked one of the men outside.

"Yes," said a voice. "She says her name is `Tuka'. She is a hot one. I beat her well for being troublesome. She is now well chained at my stirrup."

"Good," said the first voice.

"Her name is now whatever we please to call her," said another man.

"Of course," said another.

"Fetch Orgus," said the first voice. "We wish to take flight."

I smiled. The girl looked at me, frightened. Then she gritted her teeth, gasping. We half reared from the surface of the bed. Then we were still. She was sobbing. Then I thrust her back to the covers. The marks of my hands on her arms were deep. I then left the bed. I went to the side of the room and picked up a bench.

The girl had then struggled to her knees on the bed. Her hair was about her face and body. Her body was covered with sweat. Her hands were braceleted behind the small of her back. "What you did to me!" she cried.

"Would you rather have spent the time wandering about the garden?" I asked.

She looked at me with anger.

"Kneel down beside the bed," I said, "facing it, your head down."

"I am a free woman!" she screamed. "You do not command me!"

"Do you want your neck broken?" I asked.

Swiftly she knelt beside the bed, facing it, head down.

"Ah," said the fellow, coming through the door, "there she is, stripped and braceleted." He looked about. "Orgus!" he cried. "What has happened?"

"Greetings," I said.

He spun about. His sword was but half from its sheath when the bench piled into his gut. Then I lifted the bench and broke it across his back.

"May I move, Jason?" asked the girl, not looking about.

"Yes," I said.

She leaped to her feet and turned about.

I was kneeling near Orgus. I tore away his weapons and accouterments. I slipped his tunic from his body and drew it on. I also put on his sandals.

"You are strong, Jason," said the Lady Florence, looking at the broken bench, "very strong."

"When these fellows revive," I said, "I do not think it would be wise for us to be in their vicinity." I drew on the weapons and accouterments of Orgus. I did this primarily that they might contribute to my makeshift disguise. I did not know the uses of Gorean steel. I had little doubt but what one who was the master of such skills could make short work of me.

"When Orgus and Andar return," said a voice outside, "burn the house."

"Have you emptied it of all valuables and slaves?" asked a voice.

"Of all but the Mistress," said another voice, "she whom Orgus has apparently been introducing to her new duties and condition."

There was laughter.

The girl looked at me, frightened.

I drew on the helmet of Orgus.

"What are we to do?" begged the girl.

"Run to me, and turn your back," I said.

"How fierce you look, in the helmet," she said, shrinking back.

"Must I repeat a command?" I asked.

She ran to me, and turned her back. "No Jason," she said.

I freed her of the bracelets and threw the key and bracelets to the tiles.

"Head in leading position," I said.

"I am the Lady Florence!" she said.

I took her head by the hair and held it at my hip. "Oh," she sobbed. It was thus that I had seen one of the brigands leading Bonnie into her new slavery, one in which she would serve not a woman, but men.

"Oh," said the girl, in pain. "Please, you're hurting me. What are you going to do?"

"Be silent," I said. "I have a plan."

"Oh," sobbed the girl, running beside me, bent over. Though she were the Lady Florence, a free woman of Vonda, I conducted her beside me as though she might have been a slave girl.

I strode rapidly through the halls of her house. Furniture bad been cut open and thrown about. Hangings had been torn down. Chests had been broken open. I exited through the main entrance of the house and made my way rapidly about the house, taking the path leading to the stable area.

"Ho, Orgus!" cried a voice from the garden. "Ho, Orgus!"

"We are here!" called another voice.

I continued purposefully toward the stables.

"Have you not enjoyed her enough yet?" called a voice. "Bring her along! Chain her with the others! You can enjoy her at your leisure in the camp. Orgus!"

I continued to walk rapidly toward the stables.

"Orgus!" I heard. "Orgus!"

I did not break my stride.

"We are ready to depart!" called a voice. "Orgus!"

"Is that you, Orgus?" cried a voice.

At this point I released the girl's hair and seized her right hand with my left hand, and broke into a run for the stables. I had no doubt but what, in an instant, there would be swift pursuit of me and my fair prisoner.

"After them!" I heard.

I half dragged the girl behind me. I held her right hand, of course, for she was right-handed, and with my left, for I, too, was right-handed. Her most efficient and skilled hand was thus the prisoner of my grip, making her more mine, whereas, of course, my own most efficient, skilled hand, also the right, was freed for use. This same principle is generally used, it might be mentioned, for single-wrist leashes.

I looked back. Four men were now running towards us. "Hurry!" I cried to the girl.

We fled before our pursuers, she stumbling and gasping.

I reached the door of the nursery and kicked it open, thrusting her in front of me through the door. I joined her within and flung shut the door and threw down the bar, barring it.

A moment later I heard the hilts of short swords pounding on the door.

"We are caught!" she wept.

"You are caught, not I," I told her. I looked about. I took two snout straps, those of the sort used to secure the jaws of newly hatched tharlarion. She looked at me. One of the snout straps I thrust, coiled, behind my belt. With the other I tied her wrists together before her body, leaving enough strap to lead her by, as a wrist leash. "By me," I told her. She gasped. There was pounding on the door.

I hurried to the trap door in the floor, that through which newly-hatched tharlarion, through the shelter of the tunnels, are brought from the incubation shed to the nursery.

Window glass shattered inward, to the side. "Stop!" we heard.

I, dragging the Lady Florence by the wrist leash, hurried down the smoothly sloping dirt ramp leading to the tunnel.

Behind us we heard men forcing oven the door. We heard another breaking through the glass and wood at the window.

"Hurry, Prisoner!" I cried.

"Prisoner!" she cried.

But some fifty yards into the darkness of the tunnel I halted. As I had expected the men did not follow us blindly into the darkness. We might be presumed to know the tunnels. They would not. And I was armed, for now the steel of Orgus, the brigand, hung at my left shoulder.

"Bring torches!" I heard someone cry.

Chuckling I dragged the Lady Florence by her wrist leash through the darkness.

"I am not your prisoner!" she said.

I turned about. "Oh," she said, stumbling into me in the darkness. I lifted her from her feet and sat her against one side of the tunnel. I crossed her ankles. "What are you doing?" she whispered. "I am going to tie your ankles," I told her. "I shall use the free end of the leash strap. I shall take the strap up then to your wrists, so that the knot will be where you can reach it neither with your fingers or teeth."

"No, no!" she said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"They will capture me," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Do not leave me here," she said.

"Who wants a woman who is too stupid to know that she is a prisoner," I said.

"Do not leave me here," she begged.

"You will be left here as a trussed, female fool," I said, "to be a prisoner for others, others who presumably will be less particular about the intelligence of their captives."

"I am not stupid," she said, struggling futilely. "I am not a fool. I am not unintelligent!"

I stood up.

"Do not leave me here," she begged.

I turned away.

"I know that I am your prisoner," she wept.

I hesitated.

"Captor!" she cried.

"Yes," I said.

"Please do not leave me here," she begged. "Take your prisoner with you."

"Are you a prisoner?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Whose?" I asked.

"Yours, yours!" she said.

"Is it true?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "You know it is true, you beast," she said.

"And you knew it before, as well, did you not?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, angrily, "I knew it before."

"But only now have you admitted it," I said.

"Yes," she said, angrily, "only now have I admitted it."

I laughed.

"Do you laugh at your prisoner?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

She cried out in rage.

I turned away again.

"Please do not leave me here," she begged. "Take your prisoner with you."

I turned, again, to face her. I heard her squirm, piteously, in the darkness.

"Do you beg it?" I asked.

"Yes, my captor," she said.

"Very well," I said. I whipped loose the strap from her ankles. I jerked her gasping to her feet and pulled her behind me. She ran behind me, gasping, uneasily, her wrists in my tether, her bare feet soft in the loose dirt of the tunnel.

We ran for something like a minute, and then we stopped.

"Why have we stopped?" she asked.

"Do you remember this place?" I asked.

"It is dark," she said.

"It is where you once caught two slaves rutting in the darkness," I said, "and where you once, kindly, sent me a "new slave" to content my needs."

"Let us hurry on," she said. My hands were on her arms. Then, suddenly, I thrust her arms up, and back, so that her bound wrists were now over her head. "No," she said, "you beast!"

"Are you not my prisoner?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I think that I shall amuse myself with my prisoner," I said.

"No," she said.

"I shall assert the rights of the Gorean captor over his beautiful female prisoner," I said.

"Beast, beast!" she said. I forced her down. Then she was on her back in the dirt. She squirmed. "You are mad," she said. "They are in the tunnel now. Their torches are coming! Oh! Oh!" She lowered her arms, with their bound wrists, putting them about my neck. She kissed at me, helplessly. I pulled her to her feet. I dragged her beside me in the darkness. "I hear them ahead!" shouted a voice. I heard the clank of weapons. We sped on, the girl, naked, my former mistress, running and stumbling beside me. No longer did I conduct her by the wrist leash. It trailed behind her. I had felt how her body had clasped me in the darkness. I now held her by the hair. I now ran her beside me, bent over, her head at my hip.