Paga Diaries (28) by Arizona Wanderer

 

28. Auction of Dira

“Sold, for two silver tarsks!” The former Lady Filomena Viducia Barbietia, now a nameless slave, property of Argentum, naked, freshly branded, kneeling in nadu, gasped as the auctioneer proclaimed her sale to me.  She was bedraggled. 

The elaborate tresses of her beautiful auburn hair, skewed from the guardsman’s leading grasp and the frantic ineffective motions of her confined head during her lashing and branding, were matted with sweat.  She quietly sobbed, with tears running down a now heavy trail that had formed on her dirty cheeks.  Her lips were encrusted with dried saliva. Her back was streaked with crimson stripes.  Her breasts, torso and belly glistened with sweat.  Her fire crotch was matted with dried urine.  No wonder the bidding had stalled at one silver tarsk, and five coppers, before my outlandish bid.

 

My new slave looked over at me wildly, shook her head when we made eye contact, then began to moan and cry, more tears streaming down her face.  Perhaps she was humiliated at the thought of being owned by an illiterate barbarian from the Slave World.  Perhaps she was humiliated by being the property of someone who knew her as a Free Woman.  Maybe she was afraid of our mysterious connection and my presence at the hearing.  It did not matter.  She was a slave now and at the mercy of the choice of men.  She would not choose who her Master would be.  Maybe she senses that she will submit so deeply, becoming helpless to the imminent depravity of slave arousal.

 

Despite, or maybe because of her appearance and condition, I was aroused and anxious to possess her.  I had tried to purchase sweet Penny and gorgeous Lina.  I purchased this poor woman, newly enslaved on the raised stone dais, on impulse.  Mirus had told me many times that my first kajira should be well trained.  My friend Atticus had told me that training a kajira new to slavery was like training an animal, grueling, requiring patience, time, good judgement and sternness.  Although both Mirus and Atticus were right, I wanted to experience training a new kajira myself.  I thought I wanted Lina more than anything and every time I saw Penny I wanted to buy her, but the thought of training the former Filomena was intoxicating.

 

I was a little nervous about what I had just done, buying a woman.  I tried to understand where this impulse to buy a raw slave had suddenly come from.  I had met Lady Filomena several weeks ago at the Talendar Blossom, a tea house frequented by Free Women.  Frustrated by my inability to buy Penny, I was attracted by the unique scent of the Blossom's unique honey cake.

 

The former Lady Filomena had invited me to join her and Lady Cosima, her companion.  She had asked about my origins and was surprised that I came as a Free Man.  She informed me that Earth is known as the Slave World.  She asked why I came into the tea house.  I explained to her my dilemma with Penny, the coin girl.  She told me that Free Women are happier than slaves and a happy Free Woman can make a man happier than an unhappy kajira.  I knew she was wrong but there was no way I could debate her. As I left, she invited me to visit again and perhaps find another person to help me learn Gorean, a scribe.

 

I still felt that women are naturally submissive to men and can find happiness and even love for men who protect them with dominant authority.  The display of this natural authority is a powerful attractant for most women.  Most women feel it, but when asked, don’t want to admit the truth of this reality and can’t explain its reality.

 

I had gone back several days ago, hoping to take up her offer of helping me find someone for Gorean lessons, but she wasn't there.  By chance, Atticus took me to see a woman in the jail at the city guard station and I had wondered if it was she with the same blue eyes and name.  I came to the public hearing to see how her situation would resolve.  I had become excited seeing her lashed, stripped in the stock, branded and auctioned.  The thought of owning her, training her, excited me.  On impulse, I yelled out an obviously exaggerated bid.  

 

Why had I done that?  I came to Gor with the eager excitement of being a true man, assuming a natural masculine role, to own and master women, and I had been waiting until I was ready.  Mirus, mentoring me, thought I was ready.  But it was more than just an impulse that made me bid.  Maybe I wanted to prove that Lady Filomena was wrong about her belief in the happiness of Free Women and their choices, versus the happiness of kajirae, that have only one choice, choosing how to obey.  Of course I wanted any woman I owned to be happy.  I truly believed that a woman who belonged to me, served and obeyed me, would be able to find content and satisfaction fulfilling a woman’s purpose, serving men.  I believe such fulfillment makes many women happy, and even fosters feelings of love and loyalty. 

 

Now I owned the nameless beauty, the former Lady Filomena Viducia Barbietia, condemned for breach of contract and wartime treason.  Once sentenced, she had quickly been stripped, whipped, enslaved, branded and sold in ten ehn.  Gorean justice is fast and efficient.  A guardsman led my slave to the stock and secured her by the neck to one of the vertical timbers.  She looked at me wildly, shook her head, moaned and cried, tears streaming down her face.

 

The auctioneer announced, "The second auction will be for the slave known as Dira." A guardsman went over to Dira, who had remained kneeling in tower position, collared, back braceleted, wearing a light tunic, since the Prosecutor had ordered her to kneel a half an ahn ago.  Gorean discipline is strict.  Dira was sturdy, with a light bronze complexion, dark brown eyes and straight glossy black hair.  Her ankles were thick and her legs were muscular, athletic.  Was she a dancer?  Was she a Native American from Arizona?  If we had met on Earth, I would have loved to strap a backpack on her and taken her down into the canyons.  Tears had run down her face as she watched the trial, conviction, punishment, enslavement, branding and auction of her former Mistress.

 

The guardsman said, "Stand Dira."  She said, "Yes Master!"  Despite her back bracelets, she rose gracefully to her feet.  "Lesha," the guard commanded.  In a fluid motion, she turned her back to him, crossing her shackled wrists and turned her head to her left, ready to be leashed.  A murmur of appreciation came from the crowd.  The guardsman unlocked and removed her bracelets and said, "Strip."  She said, "Yes Master!" She grabbed the hem of her modest tunic, one hand on the outside of each thigh and pulled her tunic quickly but sensuously over her head, folded the tunic quickly and turned to face the guardsman.  She kissed the tunic, lowered it to her pubic mound and rubbed it up to her breasts, lifting them up as an offering.  She extended her arms with the tunic to the guardsmen as if it were a cup of paga.  Her breasts had looked sizable under the tunic but now exposed, they were large and firm.  She had a firm abdomen, a big love cradle and the standard kef on her left thigh. The murmurs grew louder from the front half of the crowd.  The guardsman, spellbound, hesitated and said “Thank you, Dira" as he took the folded tunic.  A couple of the men struck their right hands against their left shoulders, the Gorean version of applause.

 

The guardsman said, "Lesha."  Again she turned fluidly away from the guardsman, crossed her wrists and turned her head to the left.  More men struck their left shoulders.  The guardsman snapped a leash on her and turned toward the auctioneer.  She turned and heeled on the guardsman's left and a pace behind.  As she walked, she moved her hips in the natural and sexy way of a trained pleasure slave.  The cries of the crowd and the sound of fists striking shoulders grew.

 

The court scribe auctioneer, looking befuddled, asked, "Dira, are you a pleasure slave?"

 

"Yes, Master! I was trained in Ar, at the House of Aurelius."

 

"By the Priest Kings, why are you a woman's slave?" he asked.

 

"Master, Mistress' Free Companion purchased me. I am trained as a woman's slave. Master told me to be a proper woman's slave when the Mistress is present."

 

Looking out of his league, he said, "Can you display yourself properly on the auction block?"

 

"Yes Master!"

 

"Show us," he said.

 

"Yes Master!" She started to move in an obviously choreographed and well rehearsed routine.  The transitions between the standard slave positions, which she held perfectly for an ihn, were incredibly, but not blatantly, sexual.  The Free Women in the crowd turned their eyes away and put their hands over their daughters' eyes.  The men cheered and pounded their left shoulders enthusiastically.

 

While Dira performed her routine, the auctioneer shouted, "The bidding will start at five silver tarsks." "Five silver tarsks!" yelled five or six men simultaneously.  "Five and fifty copper tarsks!" yelled a Physician.  Before the hapless auctioneer could acknowledge the bid, a Builder screamed, “Six silver tarsks!"  A Warrior yelled, "Seven!"  A Merchant replied,"Eight!"  The crowd was in frenzy.  The auctioneer seemed to be paying more attention to the routine, than the bidding, and I had the feeling that the scribe did not have much experience as an auctioneer.  Bids kept coming nevertheless. 

 

Dira sped up her routine, spending less time in the standard poses.  She started touching her breasts and buttocks lightly, drawing the men's attention.  The Free Women in the crowd fled to the edges and rear of the crowd, frightened into retreat at the level of male lust.  While the auctioneer stood like a deer in the headlights, the Physician, Builder, Warrior and Merchant continued to bid, and the crowd grew feverish.  

 

Dira knelt quickly and gracefully at the auctioneer’s feet.  She kissed his ankle, then moved up to his thigh, kissing along the way.  Deftly, she grabbed the whip from his hand and backed away seductively.  She took the five long blades in one hand and with the other hand, used the handle to stretch the whip high above her head.  She began to spin and then to dance.  She danced with the whip, at times leaping, other times going to all fours, her moves accentuated by the whip.  Bids continued to come in, but the Physician ceased his pursuit at ten silver tarsks, the Warrior at fifteen.  The men roared.  The Free Women sought shelter in the outer periphery of the square.

 

She now lay on her side, lifting a leg, toes extended into the air and placed the whip handle on her black haired mound.  The handle twirled and rubbed against her as she moaned.  The shocked auctioneer gasped, not knowing what to do.  As Dira writhed and squirmed herself into a slave orgasm, the Merchant screamed, "Twenty!"  Several rounds of bidding ensued in single silver tarsk increments until the Merchant shouted, "Twenty five."  The Builder hesitated.

 

Dira, perspiration dripping from a body flushed with splotches on her dark skin, chest heaving, rolled effortlessly into nadu, then crossed and extended her wrists, straightened her back, thrust her breasts, lowered her head, and screamed, "Buy me Master!"  The men roared and struck their left shoulders repeatedly.  The Free Women and their daughters were long gone.  The Builder yelled "Thirty!"

 

While Dira recovered in a perfect posture of Submission and the auctioneer stood motionless, his mouth agape, the Merchant and Builder went through two more rounds at five tarsk increments until the Merchant nodded his head toward the Builder. The crowd struck their left shoulders in prolonged applause, some crying out, “More, more!”  After several ihn, the auctioneer stammered, "S... Sold f... for f... fifty  silver tarsks!”  A guardsman approached Dira, who held her posture of Submission, hesitated and then bound her out flung wrists.  The crowd roared.  Men, including the Merchant, congratulated the Builder.  

 

The guardsman put his arm around Dira, lifted her to her feet cupped her naked left breast with his right before moving it to stroke her rear flank and said, "By the Priest Kings Dira, that was the most incredible auction I've ever seen."  Her bosom heaving, sweat dripping from her face, her nipples erect, blotches showing on her bronze skin, she smiled widely, looked into his eyes and said, "Thank you Master! A girl is pleased to be pleasing!"