The Paga Diaries (46) by Arizona Wanderer

 46. Interrogation.

 

Just Because You Are Paranoid Doesn’t Mean They Aren’t Out To Get You

Peony D Beckside

Marcie was right!  I thought her hopelessly paranoid, totally delusional, but she was not.  I in my arrogance and distrustful stupidity didn’t believe her warning.  What she’d tried to tell me was so outlandish, so ridiculous, so impossible that I could not even consider that it could be true.  I’d even scoffed, likening her fears to the 1930’s scares about ‘white-slavers’.

Tales of Drysdale House (18) Pulled Back In (5)

 This is a long one, I hope you like it. The theft of Juli has made Patrick introspective

Tale 18 A New Hope

Agamemnon

The day after Shipping Day, the day after my slave Juli had been stolen away from me, was the worst day of my life. Starting in the morning, Jerry Weiss and I had worked our connections with law enforcement trying to find out where Don Emery may have fled. We had no luck. Anders was still reporting from his hidden location near Don Emery’s house that there were still a large number of Emery family people at the location. Zach Frick and Joshua of the Acquisition Team looked through data on the General Information terminals to see if there was any trace of the tedk of Don Emery. There was not. They watched and rewatched the loading of the four Ships of the Steel Worlds that left North America on shipping day. There was no sign of Don Emery or Juli boarding for Gor. Woodrow Frick consulted people he knew in Britain. The Inner Party there had no records of Don Emery of Juli being in Britain.

The Paga Diaries (45)

 45.  Choices
I looked down at my naked collared kajira, her body shaking in fear, the five bladed leather whip offered to me in her outstretched hands.  The trembling of her breasts caught my attention.  I didn’t want to whip her; she had acted on impulse, thinking that she could save my life by destroying the dangerous scrolls.  But she had tricked me, creating a distraction and seizing its brief moment to toss the scrolls into the fire.  

The 'Hide in Plain Sight" Trap by Peony D Beckside

 The ‘Hide In Plain Sight’ Trap

Peony D Beckside

I have a friend, Teresa.  I haven’t seen her for a month or so.  She seems to have dropped out of sight.  I have the distinct feeling that I’ll never see her again.  It’s a question really of whether fiction is really fact, and whether I’m paranoid or not.

'Karira House'

 Kajira House

(With thanks to PJR961who suggested Kappa Epsilon Digamma)

At some Universities in the United States and Canada, female students who offer themselves for auction and service ( in all senses) at fraternity 'Ancient Times' banquets are asked to leave their sororities and transfer to Kappa Epsilon Digamma.

or KEF

Vignette: Saffron (Catherine Binnington) by Tracker

 

Catherine Saffron Binnington Vignette.

Excerpt from Chapter24 of Banks of the Bighorn.

Slave Juliette’s Narrative

The two cowboys who took me yesterday had planted an unpleasant thought in my head.  That I was not sexually responsive enough as a slave; that my reactions to being mastered were not intense enough; that I was failing and shaming Patrick.

I am finding it hard, even in a collar, with Patrick’s initial on my thigh, and traipsing around naked all the time to let go of my entire life since I can remember – being respectable, being contained, not over-reacting to sexual stimuli.

A Talendar for Shirley (9) by Peony D Beckside

A Talendar for Shirley

Peony D Beckside

With acknowledgement and thanks to John Norman for creating the world of Gor, in which this story is set. 

Chapter Nine: The Pastry Vendor’s Booth.

A Talander for Shirley (8) Penultimate Chapter

A Talendar for Shirley
Peony D Beckside
With acknowledgement and thanks to John Norman for creating the world of Gor, in which this story is set. 

Chapter Eight: Baggage Reclaim

 

I am beautiful!  Even I have to admit that despite my Earth-girl reserve.  I don’t know how this has come about.  It’s not just the make-up or the new hairstyle, it’s something much deeper in me, something revealed that I wasn’t aware was in me.  A realisation perhaps that I am, and can only be, one thing a woman.  A woman in the deeper sense than the restricted sense of mere femaleness that most women on Earth are kept in.

Scipio Metellus (8) The fate of Nicola Van Rijn

 Am I that kind of cruel author, who after setting up a cliff-haner with the stealing (not kidnapping, that is for free people) of Patrck's slave Juli, would made the readers wait another week for the resolution. 
Yes, I am. Tale 18, A New Hope will be posted next week.

Bonus: The fate of Nicola Van Rijn

A blonde slave knelt in front of Atticus of Ar of the Caste of Slavers. Clearly she had not been long on Gor; her Gorean was broken and halting. Outside the streets of Glorious Ar were as quiet as ever they got. It was night, the three moons were the only light, as it was so late that the lamps which dimly lit the streets were low. They had been turned down to save the use of unnecessary fuel. It was the hour of thieves and knives in the night. Men rolling home late from the taverns would be lucky to lose only their coins and retain their lives. Marlenus might be Ubar in the daylight, but under the moons, the only law was a strong arm and a sharp blade.

The Paga Diaries (44)

 44.  Scrolls

“What is the spirit of the bayonet?” the drill sergeant barked out loudly.

To KILL!” I yelled out in unison with the other recruits.

“What makes the grass grow?”

“Blood, Drill Sergeant!”

Lunge, parry, upstroke, butt stroke, slash, thrust!

I couldn’t get my bayonet to stick in the hard rubber of the tires that made up the target.