The Paga Diaries (52) by Arizona Wanderer

 52.  Melancholia

I spent a sleepless night in Mirus’s guest room, alone with my questioning thoughts.  I have to admit to myself that I am in the grips of melancholy, not being able to shake from my thoughts the current position I am in.  I missed Mena.  It was hard for me to accept that she was gone.  I spent a lot of time thinking about her.  Had she been stolen, or had she escaped?  Was she complicit in the theft?  Did the thieves find nothing to take and left her there alone, where she decided to take the gems they did not find and make it look like they had?  Did she then take the gemstones and gold for herself, leaving the room on her own thinking that the wealth would secure her freedom?  How would a slave that possessed gold make herself free?  Would she obtain robes of concealment to cover her brand and collar, and then use the money to pose as a Free Woman?  She had friends when she was free, would those friends help her now that she was a slave?

Had she been offered her freedom in exchange for betraying me, opening the door to thieves?  She may have been offered freedom but I seriously doubted that any Gorean male would remove my collar and leave her neck bare, setting her free.  I had a strong feeling that she was still a kajira, but at whose feet did she now kneel before?  I wanted her back but had to accept that I would probably never see her again.  It wasn’t easy.

I never felt that she hated me, and it was hard to contemplate that she had betrayed me.  I actually felt the opposite, which was that she cared for me and if she had to wear a collar she wanted it to be mine.  But women can be very convincing of such things and I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been deceived.

Tereus and I had returned to my suite in the Tickling Curlies, and I searched through my items tossed about the room.  I wasn’t surprised that Mena’s slave papers were gone, but when my residency papers could not be found, I became very concerned.  I had confidence that Niketas would replace them, but when?  Without these papers and my wealth, I was now dependent on others, and this was not a comfortable feeling.  When we returned to Mirus and told him, he said he would make an appointment with the Magistrate, confident that Julian would issue new papers, considering my circumstances.  Mirus was vague with his answers regarding what Julian knew about my involvement with the scrolls.

I lay in the furs on the couch in the guest room, tired but not being able to sleep.  I waited for the sun to come up and hoped that the dawn of this day would be the start of some sort of improvement in my situation.  I wasn’t sure what that improvement would be, or what it would look like.  I had failed to report to Niketas last night and needed to figure out a way to see him soon.  I went outside and went for a swim, the water chilly but taking my mind from things.  Mirus came out to the pool and was surprised to see me swimming.  He joined me without saying much and we swam, but not in his usual competitive manner.

Lina came out of the house with towels and the early morning rays of sunshine turned her hair golden.  Mirus left the pool and she dried him off with a towel.  After he was dry, he told her that she was now assigned to me, and that she was to attend to me whenever I was in the house.  I should have been thrilled to have the collared beauty at my disposal, but I was not.  I could only think of Mena, and what she was doing at this exact moment, where she was waking up.

After breakfast, I went with Mirus to go to work at the lumberyard.  He told Dimos that I was to be placed on the payroll as a carpenter.  Niketas had expected me to return to him last night, which I could not do under the watchful eyes of Tereus and Mirus.  While working, I could not help but think if Niketas had lost patience with me after failing to report to him last night.  By lunchtime I had grown bored of the lumberyard work.  The repetitive work of assembling ladders did not require much carpentry skill and I was not learning about any new tools.  The work I did was mostly with chisels, which I was already proficient with.

The day was long and seemed like it would never end.  When it did, I planned to go to the city guardhouse in hopes that Atticus or Niketas would be there for me to provide an explanation and an update.  Mirus had other plans; he offered to take me to Dautium Square hoping to see Julian and talk about obtaining new papers for me.  It was hard for me to say no to him and appear that I didn’t care about new papers, but I also knew that I needed to go to the guardhouse and report.  I feared that if I didn’t report soon, I would lose the faith of Niketas and become an enemy of the state.  I needed papers but I was not looking forward to speaking with Julian.  I preferred to have my papers issued by Niketas if possible.

Mirus and I walked to Dautium Square, following the tall imposing figure of Tereus.  The walk to the center of town was several pasangs away and I wondered if it would take us an ahn to get there.  We talked about the weather, and the upcoming races.  As we walked and got closer, we passed two massive cylindrical towers built very close together.  I remember being amazed the first time I saw them and I was still impressed by them.  A suspended walkway connected the two towers very high up, at least two-thirds up the height of the towers.  There were many other towers not far away and a concentration of them in what was the city center.  There are easily over a hundred of these massive towers in this city and I am still in awe at the size and sophistication.

As we got even closer to the center of the square, we began to see the numerous taverns that are concentrated in this area.  We passed by an awning that had a dozen naked women, kneeling beside each other in a line.  They all wore collars with an attached chain, which connected them together in a coffle.

Approaching the center part of Dautium, we passed a half dozen large taverns, each with nude or nearly nude women displayed near their entrance.  Many taverns had more than one woman on display.  The collared, usually chained women called out to men as they passed by, flaunting their bodies in provocative poses while proclaiming very submissive, seductive promises to anyone who enters.  We arrived at The Shackle and Chain.  There were three beautiful women chained to a central pole near the entrance.  The entrance was open and wide, inviting.  As we went to the entrance I could see a silken feminine figure dancing, visible from the street if one looked in the right direction.  The kajira danced in slow wanton movements, the transparent yellow silk she wore accenting her undulating slave flesh.

“I don’t see Julian. Try and get us a corner table Tereus,” said Mirus.  We worked our way over to a corner through the busy tavern, not drawing any attention as most of the men were focused on the sand pit in the center of the room with the dancer.  Music came from a small section next to the dancing pit, the musicians playing notes that the dancer used to emphasize her fluid taunting motions.

“Rykart, I own many slaves and I favor some more than others.  Some of them I am very fond of. Trem doesn’t own a slave but he too has his favorite paga sluts.  I know you miss Mena, but on Gor you don’t have to miss the pleasures of a kajira. As you can see, they are all around us and this is just one of numerous taverns in the city. The variety of available women in collars will cure any man who might miss a particular slave. This afternoon the paga is on me, choose a new kajira to help you move on from Mena,” Mirus said.

“You not love your favorite slave? Rimici?” I asked.  He paused, and before he answered a beautiful brunette wrapped in diaphanous red silk came to our table where we sat on floor cushions.  She knelt gracefully in nadu and said cheerfully, “Welcome to The Shackle and Chain masters. Gia begs to serve you paga and in the alcove furs. The use of Gia is complementary with your order.”

Mirus ordered a ka-la-na; Tereus and I ordered paga.

“Rimici is first girl and she is a favorite. I do not love her and sometimes other slaves are more favorite. Did you love Mena?” he asked.

“No, but I am fond of her. It might become love.”

“Rykart, you will probably never see her again. I am blessed with having enough wealth to own many slaves. When a man owns many, he does not fall in love with one of them. He is surrounded by women who are eager for his gaze, his touch. They vie for his attention. Having these women constantly seeking his affection keeps a man from developing feelings of love for an individual kajira. Gorean men rarely fall in love, and when they do, they do not speak of it and try to hide it. The best thing for you now would be to enjoy the varieties of Gor, as often as possible. Start now and take Gia to an alcove, or any of the other beauties this tavern has to offer.”

“Yes, you are right,” I said but not believing it.  It seemed sad to me that Gorean men would hide their love.  Do they feel that expressing love makes them less masculine or dominant?  It didn’t seem to matter what any woman might think of a man’s masculinity after having her thigh branded and a collar locked around her neck.  And what was more dominating than having a man impose the position of nadu on a naked woman, her knees spread wide as she knelt, waiting to obey his every whim while holding a whip over her?  Would any woman question her master’s masculinity or dominance if he displayed love for her while she was chained to his slave ring?  And if she did question, did it matter?

Without a doubt, The Shackle and Chain, has an exquisite offering of gorgeous kajirae.  Calling it a tavern is an understatement.  It is a decadent establishment, lavishly decorated and tailored for hedonistic pursuits.  The marbled interior, high ceilings, spacious alcoves, and luxury bathrooms remind me of Caesar’s Palace casino in Las Vegas.

I should been thrilled that Mirus brought me here, but I couldn’t shake my mood, my depression over the loss of Mena still heavy.  I appreciated what Mirus was trying to do for me, helping me to move on from her and enjoy life again.  But I wasn’t Gorean and I needed more time.  I knew there would be other women in my life and that I would eventually acquire another kajira.

Mirus was expecting me to take one of these women to an alcove and be cured.  I wasn’t in the mood but I knew it would be awkward and perhaps offensive if I did not accept Mirus’s gift.  Maybe I could take one of the girls into the alcove for a while and he would assume I had put her to use.  I ordered another paga and watched as Gia served it.  She was beautiful and had a body any man would be delighted to enjoy.  I drank my paga and watched as the other paga girls worked, delivering drinks and plates of food to men at low tables.  I noticed a woman that seemed familiar.  A beautiful blond walked by carrying some food.  I remembered Atticus had pointed her out saying that saying she was a barbarian, new to her collar and that she squirmed well in the furs.  Her name was Thea and I was interested that she was a barbarian.  When Goreans spoke of barbarians I wasn’t sure if they always meant that the person was from Earth.  I wondered where she was from.

Thea had a perfect body, seen even through the pleasure silk.  She had long legs, was sweetly hipped with a narrow waist, and her large breasts were well shaped and prominent.  She was exquisite.  She was the one I would take to the alcoves, and when Gia returned to our table I asked for her to be sent over to me.  Soon, she appeared at our table.

“How may Thea pleasure masters?” she said and dropped to her knees in nadu.  Her Gorean was good, much better than mine, but I could tell she was not a native speaker.

“Alcove,” I said as I stood up.  She followed me into the alcove and knelt on the floor next to the large shelf covered in furs and containing the ever present slave rings.  I closed the thick velvety curtains and sat on the edge of the bed-like padding on the shelf and looked down at her.  Her large breasts were wrapped tight in the green silk and strained against the fabric as if appealing to be set free.  I was distracted by this sight and not sure what to do as I had not planned on putting Thea to use, but merely wait a while before rejoining Mirus.

“Does Master like what he sees?” she asked seductively.

“Yes, you are beautiful, very pleasing to eyes.”

“May Thea ask you a question Master?”

“Yes.”

“Your accent is not Gorean.  Where are you from Master?”

“Where are you from Thea?” I countered, not answering her question.

“This kajira is from the slave world Master.”

“Earth. What part?” I asked.

“This kajira is from Montana. Does Master know of it?”

“Yes, I wandered Yellowstone. Speak English,” I said.

“Master, kajirae are forbidden to speak slave languages.”

“Does a command need to be repeated,” I asked, looking up at a whip that hung on the alcove wall.

“No Master. This slave begs forgiveness,” she said quietly in English. It was nice to hear English again.

“Do you know the men I was sitting with?”

“No Master.” I wondered if she was being honest as I thought Mirus was a regular here.

“Do you know a man named Atticus, Captain in the City Guard?”

“Yes Master, I know him.”

“How often does he come in here?”

 “I don’t know you, and talking in English about him is strange. I am frightened. What do you want?”

“Nothing,” I said, changing my mind about asking Thea to give Atticus a message if he came in this evening; I wanted him to know that Mirus had prevented me from reporting to the city guardhouse.

“Do you know Roland?” she asked.

“No.”

“I have only known two men on Gor who were from Earth. Roland is one of them and you are the second. I thought you might know him as it seems extremely rare for men of Earth to be brought to Gor. Where you brought to Gor as a slave?”

I remembered briefly seeing Roland the first time I had come here, he had come with Julian. What I remembered more significantly about him was when Atticus told me that the next day Julian had branded his hand, marking him as an outlaw and then banished him from the city.  I did not know Roland, only of him.  I wondered, had he been brought here as a slave and then somehow became free?  I had not heard that men were brought to Gor as slaves, and why would anyone want to do that?  Was there a market for enslaved Earthmen?

“No. I came as a free man to enjoy life with collared women at my feet, awaiting my pleasure. Women like you,” I said.

“Ha! I don’t believe you. American men are weak and are conditioned to cater to women.”

“The men of Montana cater to women?” I asked.  Of all the states in America where I thought of men catering to women, Montana did not come to mind.  I thought of all the ranches and cowboys, real cowboys.  Sure, many of them are polite, respectful and even chivalrous when they encounter women after long spells in the saddle and living in bunkhouses while they worked the range.  But I didn’t think of them as catering in the sense that she meant; nothing compared to the modern metrosexual city slicker men in numerous overpopulated states.

“Well, yes they do. Montana men don’t put women in their place like strong uninhibited Gorean men. There is no comparison,” she said.

“These Montana men, who cater to women, are they the ones who put you in a collar?”

“I was betrayed! I was the leader of a strong band of women, independent women who didn’t need men. Did you ever hear of the Wyld Wymen?” she asked.

“No.”

“We hunted animals and even men. I was betrayed by a woman who I trusted.”

“Hunted men? What do mean?” I asked.

“We defended our territory; captured men who trespassed.”

“This woman who betrayed you, she put you in a collar and placed the kef on your thigh?”

“No, she betrayed me and traded me to ranchers who abduct and enslave women, then send them to Gor. I’m guessing on a ship very similar to the one you boarded to get here.” Her story was becoming interesting now, sounding similar to the Organization I worked for, only in a rural Montana setting.

 

“These ranchers don’t sound like weak men,” I said.

She was silent for a moment then said, “What do want, why are you here?” She paused and asked, “Have you come to buy me?”

“Why would I buy you?”

“To set me free. You are an American, you know that it is wrong to enslave people. Defend my rights!”

“Your rights? We are on a different planet! Seeing you on the floor before me with your knees spread wide and silk wrapped around you like a birthday present doesn’t seem wrong to me.”  I leaned over and pulled the slipknot tied on her left shoulder.  The silk slid down and away from her torso and her breasts sprung free. She recoiled slightly, surprised by my action.

“You are a woman and I am man and your natural role is to serve me when you are at my feet. It’s not wrong. What is wrong is that our world has strayed away from nature, devolved into a mass of human unrest and discord. The ways on our world that deprive men of their true manhood are wrong. You no longer have rights, you are a slave. Surely you feel the collar on your neck?” She touched her collar briefly and then moved her hand back to her thigh as I stood up to take the whip from the wall.

“Please forgive this slave Master!” she exclaimed in Gorean.

I brought the five leather blades of the whip down on her left shoulder blade and she cried out.  The silk fell away from her completely.  “I told you to speak English,” I said calmly.

“Yes Master, please have mercy!” she said in English.  To my disbelief, I found that I had become aroused.  Was I a sick fuck for striking a fellow American and feeling lust?  But I didn’t feel like an American, I felt Gorean and my blood was up, heart racing.  Thea had forgotten her place as a slave and her deportment had become insolent.  She had attempted to exploit a perceived weakness, assuming that I would come to the aid of a woman in peril.  I supposed my arousal came from the need to correct a woman who should be submissive, and the feeling of power I felt making this correction stimulated me.  She was clever, spirited and feisty.  I struck her again on the same shoulder and she cried out loudly once more.

“Submit to me as a slave,” I said.

“This slave submits herself to you Master! This slave begs to please you Master!” She cried out and bowed forward, head down between her arms, which were extended to me, wrists crossed.  “Lesha,” I said and replaced the whip, finding binding fiber.  She immediately put her hands together behind her back, while turning her head to the left, exposing her collar to me.  I took the binding fiber and very quickly tied her elbows together, watching her hands splay out behind her.  I then clicked a leash onto her collar, which I tugged on, making her move on her knees to get closer to me.

“Do you know how to please a man as a slave?”

“Yes, Master!”

“Good,” I said as I put my eager cock in her mouth and let go of the leash to grab the hair at the back of her neck.  I didn’t wait to determine the quality of her oral skills, as I took control of her head, taking my pleasure from thrusting into her mouth and throat.  She gasped and drooled, her eyes watering as my rough use continued until climax, which came surprisingly quicker than I thought it would.  I let go of her hair, but did not withdraw my member until its swelling began to subside.  She looked up at me hesitantly, her timid gaze questioning what I would do next.  Black mascara had started to run from her eyes in small teary streaks.

“May a slave speak, Master?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“This slave apologizes. You have proven to this slave that you are not weak, that you are not like other Earthmen. This slave begs you to buy her, to take her home and continue to master her, showing her the place of a woman before a man such as you.”  I heard her request and received it as a compliment.  It was a powerful compliment that I needed to hear at the moment, and I felt like ravishing her again, this time letting her squirm well in the furs as Atticus had stated.  I untied her elbows, releasing them from what was surely an uncomfortable position.

“Please buy Thea Master. Put Thea in your collar,” she said I as sat on the edge of the couch shelf.

“Convince me Thea,” I said and laid back.

When I returned to the table I noticed that Tereus was not with Mirus.  “You look like a different man Rykart. Thea pleased you well?”  I thought it was interesting that he knew her name, but she had denied knowing Mirus.

“Yes, she squirms well in furs. I am exhausted. Atticus said she is new to collar, but I could not tell. She was very eager and begged me to buy her,” I said.

“O? Shackle and Chain kajirae are forbidden from asking customers to buy them. She should be reported for correction.”  I did not reply to him as I didn’t feel like reporting Thea’s infraction.  Tereus returned and Mirus suggested that we depart, which I was glad to do.

When we got back to his manor, I was met by Lina who accompanied me to my guest room.  I was weary and was hoping I would be able to sleep tonight.  Lina begged to serve any needs I had.  I told her I was tired and wanted to be alone.  She asked if she should stay or report to her kennel for the night.  She told me she would return early in the morning to attend me and seemed disappointed when I sent her away.  I hoped the paga would lull me to sleep.  I couldn’t stop thinking about Thea.  I felt guilty about how I had treated her.  I had abused her by taking my built up anger and frustration out on her, using her insolent behavior to justify a harsh punishment.  I suppose a cruel reality for paga slaves includes enduring callous treatment from customers who take out their aggressions in the alcove like I did.  I did not understand why she had begged me to buy her, especially after having abused her.  Was it something so simple as a woman being attracted to a dominant male?  Did she think after placing my collar on her that I might grow soft in my treatment of her since we shared the common bond of being American?  Did she believe that my Earth sensibilities were still approachable, and that she could eventually manipulate an easy slavery?  Was tavern servitude so unpleasant that she would risk the whip, breaking a house rule and entice me to purchase her?  I drifted to sleep, the thoughts of Thea lingering on my drowsy mind.