After the Bighorn Chapter Seven­­
Dinner at Frick House.

(Image by The Palatine, https://palatine.bdsmlr.com)

Seven men gathered in Wyandotte Frick’s study in the Frick Mansion. Wyandotte was not quite at ease in the room which until a few days ago had belonged to that force of nature, Willard Frick. We were Wyandotte, Zach, Woodrow, Samuel and J. Augustus Frick IV, me and another man, introduced only as Bruno. Samuel Frick was another of the cousins, here as a representative of the sidelined larger family, and Bruno was, well what you would expect a Bruno to be, a man of muscle and protection.  We sipped brandy and nibbled canapes, served by a group of collared beauties.  With the exit of Chelsea Frick and the withdrawal of Mrs Crandell, the new housekeeper, the girls shed their tunics and served as nature intended, naked and on their knees.

Samuel Frick kept going into decisions already made, including the selection of Wyandotte as the Head of the Fricks, and the aggressive fight-back against the Patent Aggregator Vincent VanRijn.  Wyandotte was very patient with this querulous middle-aged man, with middle-aged spread, and little mental nimbleness.  He seemed a typical minor aristocrat unable to comprehend changing times and circumstances.  In particular Wyandotte, and J Augustus Frick tried to get into his head that the Frick position had to be fought for constantly in shifting alliances and betrayals among the Families of North America.

“But the Bannons and the Emerys are our friends, our allies.”

“Only as long as we are strong and appear strong.  If we are not, we are no good to them, no value in maintaining their own positions.  Willard was reckless, he fell into a trap in London.  Bannon had to demote him from the Council, now we have to fight our way back.  They are not necessarily our foes, but we have to demonstrate we are worth allying with.  Else they will join with the Robinettes, the Finnegans, the Cortezes, to pull us down.”

“Nonsense, Wyandotte you are too suspicious, the Emerys would never turn on us.  I will go to the Council myself to put this right.”

As he tried to rise from his chair, Wyandotte pushed him down back into it.

“If you go against the Family, it will be the last thing you will ever do.  You have sons and daughters whose wellbeing you should consider.”

“Augie, you can’t let him go power crazy like this!  He can’t threaten my household.”

“Sam, the Family Frick must stick together.  Give Wyandotte your loyalty, and if you can’t do that, give him your silence.  Remember, Wilson and Woodrow have all those rough hands out on the Lazy F.  And there are loyal men closer to hand.”

He didn’t look at Bruno, but that man made the point by cracking his knuckles.  Samuel Frick subsided. 

I thought that if things turned nasty, Samuel and perhaps others might turn traitor.

J Augustus Frick IV, briefed the group on the progress of the legal fight.  He wondered how long it would take to clear the Engineering Group off the 3^rd floor so that more lawyers could have their places. 

“The Engineers tell me that a proper move will take six months to do optimally.  We don’t have that time.”

Wyandotte Frick surprised me then.  He picked up the phone from the big desk of the late Willard Frick.

“Jimmy Sinclair, it is Wyandotte Frick.  You know that space on the 5^th floor that you and the merchandising group have been eyeing?  How long before you can be totally more there?.......  No, I think six months is too long and will be too disruptive.  I have decided that whichever of you can be moved in there first can have it…… I think they said something about Tuesday or Wednesday next week for their timeline…….. You think Monday if you start tonight?.......Good, good, see that you can make it”

He put down the phone and returned to his wingback chair.  A girl I didn’t recognize refilled his drink.  The whole process was a delight to watch.  He patted her on the head.  She almost purred.

“I will tell the Marketing people of the contest in the morning.  Nothing like a little competition.  But the Engineers should win with the headstart I have given them.”

He smiled at Samuel.  “Not the way Willard would have done it, but it will be effective.  Anything else?

Samuel Frick was all for shooting Samuel Vansittart and kidnapping Barbara Quigley the attorneys for VanRijn, “It is what Willard would have done.”

Again Wyandotte interrupted. “Willard would not have done it, and even if he did, I would be against it.  Taking out the lawyers in a prominent case brings attention to us, and makes us look weak, not strong.  It makes it seem as if we think our case is weak.  There are lots of lawyers who can take their place.  It would be a stupid move”

I was glad that Wyandotte was showing both sense and backbone.  J Augustus Frick IV and I both backed him up.  I hoped it was good leadership and not just a reaction against anything Samuel Frick proposed.  Samuel Frick got up and left, trailing dire predictions of disaster in his wake.

“Tap his phones, check his communication within and outside the Family,” he told Bruno.

“Willard already had those precautions in place.”

Wyandotte nodded, “Keep them in place.”

“Now, last of all, I have deprived Chelsea Frick of her handmaids, she is to realize that her position has changed. Fleur, Fliss, and Tiffani, are not to attend her.  Mrs. Crandell shall assign girls on a rotating basis to her.  Fleur was a classmate of Chelsea’s but now she is a general houseslave.”

He nodded at a curly-headed girl, kneeling by Augie Frick, he was caressing one of her breasts.  They had a lovely shape.  He looked down. 

“Once you were a classmate of Miss Chelsea, now you are a slave of her family, Are you content as a slave, Fleur?”

“Oui, Maitre, oui, I have found my destiny.”

She had a lovely voice, the French more present as an intonation than an accent.  Again, I wondered how many kajirae it took to successfully run a large house like this or my own Drysdale House.  I would have to consult either Mrs Magruder or Mrs Crandell.

Janey Anstruther’s Narrative.

I keep going into and out of sleepiness or unconsciousness.  Even a bit of that tassa power must be very powerful.  I am glad I ate less than half a bowl of the poisoned Nutri-Girl.  I am sure that the Bannons would be very angry to know that their product is being misused in this way.  They are such a reputable Family and Company and big supporters of our New Feminism.  I am sure now that I am in a truck, the bumping and rough ride could be nothing else.  How embarrassed by kidnappers will be, when they realize I am one of the New Innocents, armored in my virginity, delicate manner, and upright non-slutty life.  Then they will have to let me go.

I hope that my white Purity Ribbon did not come off when I was put into this leather hood.  It will tell my mistaken captors that I am a pure and innocent woman and should be protected and released.  My Purity Ribbon is pure white, not like that of Amanda Sloan, who sometimes wears one with a Maize and Gold border, the colors of our Great University. She says it means we will get great protection as a part of a great whole, but I think it tinges the white of Purity with other colors.  At least it does not have the red and white checkboard edging that some of those Ohio State girls wore when they came to The Game!  I think that marked them as less than pure, and I told them so to their faces.  I do not mince words when it comes to what is right and wrong!

Even one of our own girls stood up to me, saying she could have a Maize and Gold edging because she was ‘going out’ with one of our stalwart and valiant players.  I told her she better only be ‘walking out’, not being in a boyfriend-girlfriend situation.  That it too close to getting too intimate which is a stain in Purity.  Unchaperoned liaisons may be fine at those private colleges back East, but everyone knows that places like Mount Holyoak are dens of iniquity.

The bumping is more frequent now, and the speed seems to have lessened.  We must be near our destination, where the foolish kidnappers will realize they have made a mistake, and I will be released.  If they apologize, I will not cause them further trouble, as of course sluts need not be protected in the same way, and some of those girls were surely sluts. Besides it would do me no good if Amanda Sloan finds out I was mistaken for a slut, even for an instant.

Kajira Juli’s Narrative.

I wish Master were home, I miss him so much. This Drysdale House is much too big for the two of us.  Even a few girls will not fill it up.  I don’t want Master Patrick to have other girls, just me, but men are men.  But this place is too big.  Too big to clean, too big to be comfortable.  And what do we need with a Ballroom, and one the size of the one this house has?  That whole wing past the Library is just not needed.  And a dining room that can seat almost fifty!  But the Library is a wonderful room!  Big with a huge fireplace, paneled wall, and an office for Master Patrick leading off it.  Why, such a suite with the attached powder room is almost enough for us.  I wish my basket was here.  I would slumber and serve Master all day in this Library, instead of that nasty kennel in the deep cellars where I am confined.  Oh Patrick, please return to me, I shall pine away without you.  Please don’t desert me.

Today while I was naked and alone in the hall of Drydale House there came a knock on the front door, followed by the bell ringing.  I could see through the one-way glass that it was a woman, conservatively dressed holding a book and a binder of papers.  Not a lawyer, I thought, maybe a teacher?  Such a difference between us, one naked and collared, marked on the thigh, the other free to come and go, and knock on strange doors.

I was afraid of her.  I did not dare open the door. Such a difference between slave and free.  I could not face her, or even let her see me naked and kneeling.  Finally she went away.  She was Free, she could come and go as she pleased.

Patrick Master’s Narrative.

The dining room at Frick Mansion would, I guess, sit perhaps fifty with a bigger table.  I suspect that the Fricks have such a table, likely polished mahogany.  The six of us that remained after the unlamented departure of Samuel Frick sat at a more comfortably sized table.  It was round, the legs at least were mahogany, the top covered with an ironed white tablecloth.  The legs matched the skin of at least on the slaves, who, unclothed who served us.  There seemed to be no end of the women in collars employed in the house.  I envied the Fricks.  Hot dishes came from the kitchen to a kind of serving pantry, borne by tunic wearing kajirae from the kitchen, then served by the naked slaves in the Dining Room.  In a low voice I inquired of Woodrow Frick why of the kajirae, some were clothed and some were not. 
“It is because Mrs Crandell or Mrs Magruder are supervising the preparations in the kitchen, and as Free Women their sensibilities are not to be offended by the bodies of slaves.”
I was puzzled, “That is not a rule that it seems that Miss Chelsea Frick observes.”
“There are many ways in which my half-sister does not observe all our conventional behaviors.  She was spoiled by our Father. “
“And he is no longer here to protect and shelter her?”
“Precisely.”
Dinner was excellent and charmingly served.  Near the end, as the candles were burning down.  Bruno got a ping on his phone.
“That was Niles.  His truck is nearing the service gate, I need to go and unlock the gate.”
Zach, spoke up, “I will go to the cellar door, to help unload the merchandise, Patrick would you like to see how such things are managed?”
I nodded.  Bruno, Zack, and I left the table with Wyandotte and J Augustus Frick in deep conversation.  We left by a side door, Bruno hurrying off, Zach and I going to door, set in the foundations, down some outside steps leading to a cellar.  It was cold in the evening air, even in summer, waiting for the truck to come. I guessed it was some way from the service gate, a quiet back way into the estate, no doubt.  One thing I had little doubt about though was the nature of the merchandise that was being delivered so late at night, under the full moon.
The truck was backed up to a basement door.  Stone steps lead down to the door, set into the stone foundation of the House.  The door stood open, a light over the door casting stark shadows.  The driver, I assumed Niles, although we were not introduced, handed a clipboard to Zach.  
”Twenty, all on the order sheet.  There were twenty-three we wanted to get, but three did not show up for the bus and the Nutri-Girl with Tassa.  I guess they slept in.”
“Let’s get them unloaded then, Patrick, once we get inside, it is down the hall, first door on the left.”
Zach and Niles headed to the back of truck which Niles unlocked and then rolled up the overhead door.  I thought we would herd the merchandise inside, but in the light from the door, I saw female forms laying on the floor, hands secured behind them and all wearing leather hoods.  Niles climbed up into the back of truck, picked up the first recumbent form like a sack of potatoes or onions and passed it to Zach who put it over a shoulder, with where the face would be backwards and downwards and started down the stairs.  I stepped up and took the next form, hooded and wearing shorts and a T-shirt.  I followed Zach down the stone walled hallway and turned left through an arched doorway.  I noticed the open door was thick wood, likely oak, and bound with iron hinges and straps.  There was a small barred window in the upper part of the door.  If you have seen an old movie set in medieval times, you know the kind of door I mean.
Inside the door, there were more steps leading down into a large room lit by overhead bright glowing lights.  There were low-ceilinged kennels along one wall.  In the center was a long curved pipe, in a shallow curve, about thirty feet long.  It was about two inches in diameter and was supported about four inches off the ground by bracketed supports.  Zach laid the merchandise down near the far end of the pipe and nodding to me, left to get the next bundle.  I put my bundle down next to Zach’s and went for another piece of cargo.  
We loaded all the merchandise into the holding room, Zach and I went out to the truck one last time. Zack signed Niles,s copy of the bill of lading, Niles nodded, secured the back of the truck, got in the cab and drove away.  Zack and I went down the stairs, Zach locked the door from the cellar to the outside, and turned off the outside light.  
In the big room Zach gave me instructions on what to do.
“Take one of those ankle chains, secure her left ankle to the pipe.  Then take off her hood, spritz out her mouth with water and put her face down.  We don’t want her to choke on anything she spits up.  Niles will have already taken her phone and ID.  Those items will be spread around near their home towns. I noticed the pipe was curved, and asked Zach why?  I was sure there was a reason, the Fricks usually had reasons for their procedures.
“That is so they can see each other and know that they are not unique, just another captive girl.  Once they see one girl processed, they know it is their fate as well.”
I first secured the girl I had brought in.  Once her hood was removed, she proved to be a very pretty blonde, she wore a white hair ribbon with a red and white chequered border.  A college thing I assumed.
Zach and I worked quickly, they were an assortment of very beautiful girls, a variety of forms, shapes, and colors, but all lovely.  
“That will do until morning.  They will wake up in the night, and by morning they will be all screamed out.”
We went back upstairs.  J Augustus Frick had left and Wyandotte was sipping some brandy by the fire, a girl kneeling beside him.
We accepted brandies from a couple of the extra girls in the room.  I spoke up.
“What happens now, how do they get to Gor, which I assume is their destination.”
Wyandotte spoke, “An intelligent question.  A Silver Ship will pick them up within the next week.  The scheduling can get a little imprecise, depending on the pilot.”
I listened, indicating non-verbally my question.
“The ships we use for shipments are piloted and crewed by contractors, not directly by the Others or the rulers of Gor.  They are not as practiced or skilled as the Others.  So it takes them different times to transit between planets.  Some are very cautious; they leave the surface of the planet and wait for the destination planet to come around the sun.”
“That is about six months,” I observed.
Wyandotte nodded.  “Yes, others set out along the line of orbit of Earth and Counter-Earth at greater or lesser speeds depending on their confidence in their navigation. Sooner or later they run into the destination planet They make better time. A few will cut across the orbit, but that is risky, and the deeper they cut closer to the sun, the riskier.”
“There is one legendary pilot, formerly a sailor from a small fishing village north of Port Kar, who not only cuts deeply across the orbits but does it at speed.  Of course in space there are really no brakes, except on the ships of the Others or the rulers of Gor, so it is extremely dangerous.  One error in navigation and…..”
He held out his hands.
“Very few have encountered this Marius the Mariner.  And I hear he is very expensive.  Willard did not want to pay the high costs and insulted him.  Willard was impulsive like that, quick to anger.”
Woodrow Frick had come into the room, his arm around the slave, Sylvia, “I have met him.  A quiet modest man.  He didn’t like me, perhaps because I am a Frick.”
Wyandotte said, “I don’t care if they like us, as long as they fear us”