After the Bighorn Chapter Twelve, Back in Court

Patrick Master’s Narrative

Monday afternoon and we are back in court. Augustus Frick, Zach Frick, Dana Winter, Richard Thornton, a couple of Frick Company lawyers and I were all in court to confront the VanRijn people. Vansittart has brought an associate from Oakland, and their local lawyer, Barbara Quigley, Esq. has brought two associates, one female and one male, whose job seems to be to carry the briefcases. Vansittart seems upset that we still have them outnumbered. Augustus Frick speaks for us today, presenting motions that Zach, Dana Winter, Richard Thornton, and I have been working on all morning. We are prepared, more prepared than Vansittart and Quigley. It appears that Vansittart has not communicated well with Quigley and their presentations are not coordinated. This confirms my decision to have members of my team resident in Pittsburgh, working out of the Frick Steel offices. We make far more demands on them, than they on us. We also dump lots of discovery materials on them, mostly unsorted and innocuous, but it will take them a lot of work to figure that out. As Judge Kellogg makes his rulings, there is quiet bickering at the VanRijn table. Good.

As they leave, Quigley and the female associate have the junior male lawyer carry their briefcases. He seems browbeaten and not at all assertive. The women in that office are clearly in charge. Dana Winter tries to give her briefcase to Richard Thornton to carry. It seems she is trying to emulate Barbara Quigley. J Augustus Frick turns to her, he looks unhappy. She backs down and picks up her own briefcase. Richard Thornton, who had let her precede him on our way into court did not defer to Dana on the way out of court.

It made a contrast as we left. Barbara Quigley and her female associate preceding the male lawyer who carried their briefcases. Our side left with Dana Winter bringing up the rear, carrying her own briefcase and some other papers from our presentation. She did not seem happy.

On the way back to the Frick legal department offices on the third floor of the Frick Building, I tune out the conversation and think back to the quiet Saturday I spent alone in San Francisco with Juli, my beloved kajira. We were in the gardens of Drysdale House in San Francisco, under the trees. I had taken her in the grass, and after I was sitting in a comfortable chair enjoying the breezes while I read the overseas letter. It was from Franz Rupert, the Chancellor of the Grand Duchy of Lutha, a micro-country tucked between Austria and the Balkans. He was inviting me to apply to be Luthan honorary consul in San Francisco. Lutha had never gotten around to outlawing slavery and still had old laws on its books allowing enslavement for debt, for trespassing on certain properties, and some other offences. With Drysdale House as a consulate, Luthan law would apply, and I could legally own Juli, and maybe others as well.

“Good news, Master?”

“You kajirae are such curious creatures, Juli.”

“That is because no one tells us anything, Master.”

“It may be good news; I will let you know when it is final.”

She rested her head back on my knee. She had her arms around my lower leg, her slave bells jingling as she moved slightly. I had attached dancing bells around her ankles and calves when we returned home, five circles of five bells each on both her legs. She tinkled pleasingly when she moved. The bells, her collar, and a golden chain of small links around her waist were all she was wearing. Her skin glistened with the clear sun block I had worked into her body. How sad that we have damaged our planet so much we have to be afraid of the life giving sun! We dozed there, content, for most of the afternoon.

As we walked back under the trees to the garden, I asked Juli, why she was perturbed when presented as a slave to Gerry Reiss.

“You have been presented as a slave before; it is what you are. You were not as upset when the whole ranch at the Lazy F say you presented thusly. You even served at a feast.”

“But they had not known me as a Free Woman, Master. Master Gerry Reiss had known me as Juliet, your companion, your friend. It was a shock for me to have him behold me as a slave, naked and collared. To know that you could give me to him without a second thought.”

“A slave, a kajira is what you are now. Soon more may see you that way.”

“Yes Master.”

Kajira Nineteen’s Narrative.

“Sula, Bara, Lesha, Nadu”

“Lesha, Bara, Sula, Nadu, Lesha, Bara.”

Mistress Jade was calling out positions while Mistress Kailieka was leading us as we snapped from position to position. We have to call them Mistress, even though they are collared slaves, just like us. No No, not like us, not like me, I am not a slave. I am free.

Well, not free, a prisoner.  But not a slave.

“Nadu, Lesha, Bara, Lesha.  Keep up Ten, legs wider Seventeen, up on your heels in nadu, Seven, curl those toes under heels Ten, I won’t tell you again.”

Mistress Jade has told us she used to be a teacher before she was ‘acquired’. She and Mistress Kailieka has switches, very painful, though not as painful as the slave whip the men used.

“The switch helps you learn swiftly, it is an excellent pedological tool. A slave, a kajira must learn quickly to be totally pleasing. It is a matter of survival.”

“Nadu. Now all of you look at Mistress Kailieka. Improve your form. Legs wider Ten, back straighter Nineteen! Shoulders back, stick out those tits.”

I tried to emulate Mistress Kailieka in the Nadu position. She looks so elegant and also so vulnerable when she does it. We girls can only try to look as desirable as she does. Sometimes we will receive a candy if we are good. It makes such a change from the everlasting tasteless slave gruel, Nutri-girl without flavor which we receive twice a day. It is transparent conditioning, but like the switch, it works to make us learn.

Nadu is such a vulnerable position. The girl kneels back on her heels, legs very wide. The heels are together, and the knees wide spread, the girl is open and vulnerable. Very open. The widespread knees, and the heels make a stable triangle. The girl has her shoulders pulled back and her chest out. Nothing is concealed from the man in front of whom she kneels, she is helpless, her hands on her thighs. It is beautiful to see, but the girl is so exposed and vulnerable. Mistress Kailieka had me hold this position in front of Master Niles for almost fifteen minutes this morning. He looked me up and down, he walked behind me, he watched me from all angles. Despite the inherent stability of the Nadu position, I felt myself feeling faint, I felt myself wanting to please him. My hands fluttered on my thighs; I felt so open. I was so happy when he gave me a hard candy. I kissed his hand when he put it in my mouth.

We are not allowed to be shy when in front of the Masters and our trainers. By now we have nothing to hide, it is becoming scarily normal to be naked and open in front of them. Slave girls are allowed to hide nothing from our owners.

“Sula”

Oh god, I hate this position, flat on my back, my hands palms down at my sides. But the worst is legs wide open, spread wide. It is clear what this position is for. To please men. To please them sexually. I hate the idea of being taken without a say in who takes me. It could be anyone! It could be more than one! But why does it seem normal sometimes? To be an object, an object that can be used at will, disposed of at will.

This is our fourth day in this cellar, what can truly be called a dungeon. We learn some Gorean words, chiefly regarding learning to be slaves. I know from my psychology studies that learning the words and positions means learning the attitudes. God, it is becoming normal in my mind to kneel before men, to beg for food, to call them Master. The men we come in contact with are masterful, I must admit that. Mostly Master Bruno and Master Niles, and the other two men whose names I do not know. I think that they are henchmen or employees, but they certainly command us.

“Nadu, Sula, Nadu, Sula. Make your transitions more graceful, more fluid. Especially you Nineteen. Remember you can be beaten for not being pleasing. Be pleasing in every movement. Be graceful and exciting at rest, in movement. Your price depends upon it; your master will demand it.”

Jade is incessant in her demands.

I hate her. I hate this place, I hate this situation. I hate that I am not even the person in charge of my own cell. There are eight cages, or kennels alone the back wall of our prison, so we could all be accommodated two or three to a kennel, but they have put us four to a kennel, leaving three unoccupied. The remaining kennels are crowded. I am sure that this is deliberate on the part of our captors. And of course we have to kneel down and crawl into the kennel and cannot stand up inside them.

Seventeen, Eighteen, Twenty, and I are in one kennel. We have a bucket for wastes and one for fresh water. I tried to take charge of our kennel from the first night we were confined there as I do in every group. I feel that I am well qualified to lead and guide and that my advice is always appreciated. I spoke up, as soon as we were locked inside and the men and the two kajirae left the dungeon.

“Hi, we should get started and set some rules. First our names, my name is …”

Suddenly I was pinched and then slapped. I was so shocked I was immediately silent.

Twenty spoke to me and the others in an urgent whisper.

“We have to go by the names the Masters have given us; even if they are just numbers. If we forget and start using our old names, our names when we were free, we might get confused and make a mistake in the hearing of the Masters or their kajirae. Remember what they said, if one person in a kennel transgresses, all the slaves in that kennel will be punished.”

I had forgotten that.  I did not want to believe it. But it appeared that Twenty did, and the other girls in our kennel backed her up. I had lost control of the situation, the first time in a group setting that I had lost control in a long time.

Twenty started giving orders. The water bucket would go in the back left corner. The waste bucket in the front right, where there would be the most air movement. That made sense, I could not argue. Again I was put in my place, a place with which I was unfamiliar; taking orders rather than giving them.

Twenty introduced herself. “My name is now Twenty, I was a plumber’s apprentice. The work is easy enough for a woman, and I can show I am just as good as a man. I let the male brutes work as framers and carpenters and masons and the rough work.”

Seventeen and Eighteen introduced themselves as sociology students from the Ohio State University. I was a fine arts photography student. Then Twenty got personal.

“Eighteen, you are not white silk, how did you give yourself to a man, or men. Why were you so needy?”

“He was my boyfriend, we were talking of becoming engaged. I loved him.”

“Then what happened after he had you, did he abandon you?”

Eighteen hung her head in shame.

“No, no, not really. It was okay, I guess, but he did not fill me with excitement. I expected more, he was very gentle. We drifted apart.”

Twenty nodded, “He did not overcome you, perhaps you were looking for a Master, not an equal?”

Eighteen sobbed, “No, no, I wanted an equal partner, really I did.”

Seventeen was scornful, “yet you left him because he did not overwhelm you, throw you down and take you.”

Eighteen lashed out, “You slut, was it not you who was adjudged as easily aroused, when you knelt before men and they touched you, fingered you, penetrated you? Did you not yearn to be taken?”

She was angry and crying at the same time. Then for some reason she turned on me.

“And you, you who don’t want the name the Masters gave you, you were judged as quick to juice, to oil to become wet and slick for the men!”

I was shocked. It was an involuntary action, not my fault or volition. It was unfair to claim I wanted to belong to men, to be a slave. I was a free woman. Before I could answer, Eighteen turned on Twenty.

“And you, you already knew about Gor before they mentioned it. Are you one of them, a kajira like Jade or Kaileika?”

She stopped, out of breath.

Twenty answered.

“There are books, fantasies I thought them, about Gor. A place where men are strong and women are slaves. A savage place, but a place of beauty and wonder. It is true, I read some of them, that I felt sometimes late at night, that I might be a slave there. But it was just a passing sexual fantasy; not something I really wanted.”

She stopped, then started again.

“Once, for Halloween I dressed up as Princess Leia, from Star Wars.”

After a moment she went on, “I wore that costume, you know the one, Slave Leia. It was exciting, but it was just a fantasy,”

We all nodded. We all knew ‘that costume’.

“My boyfriend wanted to take me that night, but I didn’t let him. He just did not seem the type of man I imagined holding the other end of the chain.”

“So you do want to be a slave.”

“No, it is just a middle of the night fantasy.”

“Now lets go to sleep.”

I was happy for the conversation to end. I did not want to confess the time I had gone to a costume party in a long T-shirt as a Roman Slave. I had ripped some rents in the fabric, and wore it off one shoulder. Being a small girl I could do that. I remembered that Amanda Sloan’s boyfriend had asked if I had a nether closure, but I did not know what that meant. He was going to explain when Amanda stopped him. I will say this for Amanda, she believed in the proprieties.

“Nineteen, stop day-dreaming, Nadu, then Sula, watch the transitions”

“I am trying Mistress.”

“You are not trying hard enough. Come up here on the dais, beside Kailieka, watch her closely.”

On the dais, beside Kailieka I was put through my paces, trying to move smoothly between sula and nadu and back again. It was very hard. I did not like being so open. I was frightened by what had happened the afternoon before. Since we arrived, we girls had washed with water from a bucket, and a cloth. The four from our group had performed the best in our Gorean Language lessons thanks to the coaching we had had from Twenty, who knew some words and concepts from reading the books of Master John Norman. (She says she has read five, but I suspect she has read more than that). Kailieka announced that as a reward we were to have proper baths. We were so happy, until Jade led us through a small door into a room with four corrugated iron tubs. I have seen similar tubs for feeding animals on livestock documentaries. I guess that is what we are. Livestock.

Bruno and Niles and the two other henchmen were there. Our reward was a trap! Our hands were bound behind us with rope; what Twenty calls binding fibre. Each of us was placed in one of the tubs. The warm water was the exact right temperature; it was sweetly scented with lavender. It was divine to be in a tub, except that we were being washed by men. The men probed everywhere, working our muscles to get out kinks, but they touched us everywhere, cleaning us internally with their fingers, stroking our thighs, our bodies, our breasts. It was both relaxing and arousing at the same time. When we were removed from our tubs we were dried with rough towels that made our skin come alive, the men brushed our hair then massaged us, sometimes intimately.  Twenty moaned as she was touched and Eighteen suddenly cried out, “take me Master, use me, I submit.”

Niles looked at her. She had fallen to her knees and had wrapped her arms around his leg. She kissed his shoes.

“Take me, use me, use me as a slave.”

I was shocked. I could still feel Bruno’s hands on me. I almost cried out.

“Sula, kajira.” Niles commanded Eighteen. She lay in the position, Niles stood between her thighs. “Do you beg slave use, kajira?”

She sobbed, she was panting, “Yes please, I beg it, use me.”

Niles swiftly prepared himself, then took Eighteen right there on the floor using her hard. She panted and begged for more. She moaned and shook, as she told us she did not moan with her fiancé. He made her beg for release.

“I have never felt like that. Is that what being a slave is like?”

Bruno was scornful, “a minor slave orgasm, barely better than a free woman.”

One of the henchmen gave up brushing Seventeen’s hair. When Niles was done, he decided to use Eighteen as well. It was horrible what they put her through, one after the other.

But the slut liked it! She begged for more, she asked to serve them in other ways. Twenty as well asked to be put to slave use, but Bruno told her to wait until she got to Gor, then her new master might well auction her ‘first use’. She cried in frustration. I bit my lip to prevent myself from speaking.

Eighteen was taken to one of the alcoves opening from the main room. The other three of us were led back to our kennel. Before the curtains were drawn on the alcove, I saw Seventeen chained inside, a chain to her collar, others to shackles that had been attached to her ankles and wrists. She could be adjusted any way the men chose. The curtains were closed. Eighteen was not returned to us until after midnight. She was exhausted but smiling.

“Slut!”, said Seventeen.

“Yes”, replied Eighteen.

I thought she was a complete slut too, but why did part of me wish that I too had been taken to an alcove?

Now I was on the dais, beside Kailieka, moving from Nadu to Sula. Bruno came onto the dais. When I was in Sula, he stepped between my legs, his feet touching my thighs, I spread wider. He looked down on me; it was all I could do to refrain from grabbing his ankles. I was ashamed of myself.

He turned and scanned the room. He pointed at Two, another girl with a red band on her collar.

“To the alcove!”, he pointed.

He looked at me, “too bad you are white silk.”

I was relieved and disappointed.

When we were locked in our kennel that night, Jade spread some candies in front of us.

“A reward for your group. Seventeen served the men adequately last night.”

We gratefully sucked on the candies, which, I suppose, made us complicit in Seventeen’s sluttishness.  From the alcove, we could hear Two, trying to earn some candy