Birds of a Feather
By Theodoric of York and Wardall Clark.
Warning: NO PORTION of this work may be REPRODUCED FOR SALE for any purpose. DC Comics retains full copyright to Superman, Wonder woman and the other characters mentioned here and John Norman retains full copyright to the planet and society of Gor. Birds of a Feather contains explicit sex and violence**, including scenes of rape and torture. This story is not for anyone under the age of consent** in their jurisdiction to read such sexually explicit material. Authors Notes: This is the conclusion of an ongoing series melding John Norman's World of Gor with DC Comics heroes and heroines. At the end of Chapter Seven is a thorough glossary of terms, places and recurring characters. If you find yourself completely baffled by Gorean customs, terms, or politics you should try reading the series in order: (1) A Cat and a Fiddle [by Theodoric of York], (1a) The Cat and the Shackles. (1b) Under the Shadow of the Bat (2) Diana and the Ubar (3) The Princess and the Mercenary [all by Wardall Clark.] In these earlier works Catwoman, Batgirl, Supergirl, Wonder Woman, and Wonder Girl fall prey to Kurri interplanetary slavers. Selina Kyle escaped to become a legendary Gorean outlaw until Batman came to Gor to re-enslave her. Barbara Gordon wound up as Scully, the abject slave of Mulkar, an agent of the Priest Kings. Kara Zor-El endured years of traumatizing captivity before Batman and Selina freed her. Princess Diana escaped from degrading slavery to a power-mad Ubar only to be recaptured and brought to the Sardar where her memories were altered in a failed effort to make her a docile slave. She escaped by killing her lover/jailor and was at large when Birds of a Feather began. Troia wound up in the hands of the Ubar from whom Diana escaped and was tortured for her sister's crimes.
Lois Lane and photographer Morgan Croft fell into a trap and were raped, and kidnapped by Gorean interplanetary slavers along with a runaway nicknamed Pikachu. Supergirl had been committed to Arkham Asylum for treatment. When Batman and Superman visit Supergirl to arrange for her release, they quarrel about the practice of slavery and Lois' prospects of resisting being broken into a submissive as Supergirl was. Meanwhile, Diana took up with a Gorean warrior from Tyros in hopes of rescuing her sister from the clutches of Gor's most sadistic ruler, Lurius of Jad, the Ubar of the Empire of Cos.
Chapter Three: "WHAT IS A PONY SLAVE?"
Less than two weeks had passed and already Clark held Lois's death certificate in his hands. At times like this, government bureaucrats were annoyingly efficient. Lois and Morgan were officially victims of terrorists. The listed cause of death was being blown apart when the hideout where they were held hostage accidentally exploded. The media reported that very few body parts had been discovered, certainly not enough to make a visual verification. Clark suspected that the agencies involved had refined this sort of cover up to an art form.
He had been answering the phone all day. People were offering Clark Kent condolences. He had to go along with the cover story, of course. His secret identity was not supposed to know officially that it was all a farce. The bogus FBI agents had been very skilled in not tipping their hand when they interviewed him. Thus for the next few days he would have to play the role of the grieving widower. He had already arranged with the Daily Planet to take an indefinite sabbatical from Clark Kent's work.
Legally speaking, Clark was a free man. Indeed, a beautiful and highly sensuous young woman had already moved in with him. He had tried to arrange for Supergirl/Linda Danvers to stay in a hotel until he could make more permanent arrangements, but she was too needful for company, "for someone to hug." in her words. Besides that, Kara was all the family he had left and perhaps all the doctors were right, this was not the time for either of them to be alone. He quickly found that when he held her close it did seem to give him real comfort.
This night Kara was in the kitchen fixing him something to eat. He had told her that he was not hungry but she had assured him that his mood would improve if he ate regularly. Clark could not help admiringly watching her trim figure and slender legs when she emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray. For some reason, her current state of vulnerability had made her more attractive to him, not less. To his eye, his young cousin was now breathtakingly beautiful.
To his surprise, she knelt down in front of him and said "Master, your meal is ready." She looked up at him with hopeful, longing-filled eyes that begged silently that he accept what was being offered. Before he could object to what she was saying, she added, "Humor me. It brings me great joy. Think of it as a little game." "What! he cried, surprised.
"I know that you will not accept me as your slave, not as I am willing to accept you as my master. I know your principles too well to believe otherwise. But I ask you to please believe me when I tell you how much I crave the comfort and security that stems from servitude to a man. I am sure Lex Luthor would love to have me at his beck and call."
"So to achieve them you would serve a villain?"
"I very much need to be owned by a strong man and Lex Luthor is a very strong man. I could easily imagine myself as slave to a man like him."
Clark chuckled and asked, "So what you are saying is that to best serve humanity I should accept you as my slave? Doesn't that sound a little twisted to you?" This was reminiscent of the conversation he had earlier with Bruce Wayne. "All I know is what I have become, who I am. In all seriousness, Ka-El, I can think of no man I would prefer to you as my Master." She told him. "I beg you to allow me to think of you that way. It would be a game between us, a way of humoring my insecurities, wouldn't it? Or are you afraid that you might really start thinking of me as a slave? Is that it?" Finding himself neatly outmaneuvered, and too soul-tired to try to come up with another way to please her, Clark sighed deeply. "Very well, I give in. If it keeps you out of Lex Luthor's hands, then we will play this stupid game. You can consider me your master, until I say otherwise." He wondered what Lois would be saying if she could see the little charade he was engaging in. She would probably be laughing her head off. Kara bowed her head and held out her wrists to him, palms turned upwards, saying " I, Kara Jor-El, formally of the planet Krypton, submit myself as a slave to Ka-El of the planet Krypton, known here as Clark Kent, completely his to do with as he wishes." Then she looked up him and tried to smile broadly; her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "There, that does it; you now have a slave. Would you like to rename me or continue to call me Kara?"
"Kara, don't you think that was carrying this game a little too far?"
"Lex Luthor would not say that!"
"For Lex Luthor it would not be a game."
She answered, "Precisely my point" as she pulled her short dress up over her head to discard it. She was nude underneath. He stared at her perfect white skin and blonde pubic curls, too shocked to remember to avert his eyes. "Put your dress back on. I ORDER you. I am your master, remember?" Her eyes crinkled in the first real smile he had seen since her rescue, she responded "You have a disobedient slave. She will need to be punished!" As she jumped on him she exclaimed happily: "Come on, it is not as if you have never seen me naked before! We have even fucked."
"We were both forced!"
"And yet I still loved the way you made me come. Nobody else does that to me, Ka-EL"
"But I am a married man, Kara!"
"Not any longer. According to Earth law your wife is legally dead. By Gorean law her identity as a free person has been erased by now. That is why according to Gorean law a free companionship ends when either party is enslaved. As we speak, some kajira with Lois' body is probably being fucked and enjoying every minute of it!
"Kara!" screamed Clark. "You have gone too far!" She retorted hotly, "You saw the tapes, Master. You saw the photos. Lois loved what was happening to her even more than that slut Morgan Croft did. "
With that remark Clark's self-control ran out. Angrily, he pushed Kara out his lap to the hard floor. Moving almost too fast for the eye to see, he ripped off his pants and piled on top of her. He pinned her shoulders with irresistible strength and wedged himself between her thighs. He might have come to his senses then, but the naked Supergirl eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist and rubbed her wet crotch against his bare sex. He was rock-hard within seconds.
Before this night, Clark Kent had always been as gentle as possible in his lovemaking, lest he tear a human woman like Lois apart. Now he thrust inside Supergirl violently and repeatedly. She did not seem to care. She rhythmically tightened and relaxed her vaginal muscles to better accommodate him. For a long time, more than an hour, he quite literally assaulted her loins, letting lose all the frustration he had been gathering up this week.
Kara endured the brunt of his frustrations with the authorities. She withstood his sexual pounding as he worked off his exasperation with Bruce and his deliciously desirable slaves. And above all she helped him vent his anger at Lois, the headstrong reporter who had gotten herself captured, raped, and carted off to some distant planet to become a pleasure slave for some unknown master. By the time Superman stopped, he had climaxed twice and Kara had lost count of her own orgasms. Although she had been used without consideration by her Master, such treatment was commonplace for the slave girl she had been carefully trained to be.
They coupled again later that night and this time it was more like making love as Superman was considerably gentler with his cousin. He felt he needed to make it up to her, though she had made no complaints about being forcibly raped. She shuddered with pleasure again and again and when she took him inside her she urged him to faster and deeper thrusts into her willing receptacle.
He had concentrated on giving her pleasure and succeeded better than he intended. When she kissed him and rubbed her charms against him afterwards, the trusting youthful admiration she had showed him when she submitted to him was gone. Kara was looking at him with a young woman's romantic love in her clear blue eyes. He could feel the strength of her emotions in the way made 'Master' into an endearment rather than a title.
It was then the telephone rang. Kara begged, "Please ignore it. It is only Bruce Wayne again!" But Clark looked at the Caller ID. This time it was not Batman. Intrigued, he picked up the phone and said "Hello?"
"Clark Kent, this is Mulder. We met earlier today. Do you remember me?"
"Yes, you were the tall, lanky fellow with an odd accent. What is it?"
"I understand you want to go to Gor."
"Why would I want to go to a mythical planet?"
"Cut the crap, Kent. I know who you really are and you know who I am. Do you want to go to Gor or not?"
"Yes, I do. But I have been told repeatedly that it is impossible. Why do you ask?"
"Because it wasn't me that told you it was impossible. I can get you there, but the opportunity might not last very long."
"What's the catch?"
"I have been informed that we have a problem, a problem that concerns you also!"
Lois Lane knelt nervously while the man played with her nipple. By itself being groped did not much bother her; that had happened often enough in her youth and on this planet in the week past. She and her fellow captives had already been exchanged for a cargo of pharmaceuticals, then shipped in the hold of a galley to a city where they were displayed naked in the Gorean equivalent of a stockyard. For a bag of silver pieces, Lois, Morgan, and twenty-three other girls were picked out of the pen by a huge Viking-type named Rollo, and then flown blindfolded in tarn baskets to a city whose towering white walls could have come out of the works of Tolkien.
By now Lois knew that her body was not hers to do with as she wished; others were completely controlling its use now. That had been made abundantly clear when they recorded her every possible measurement, no matter how intimate. Since that day at the warehouse she had not been raped again, only fondled intimately time and time again, yet it was clear to her that it was only a matter of time before she would be again penetrated with a male's sex. The slaver's house had determined that she was red silk, and thus available for more intimate slave training.
The hard-faced man standing over her teased Lois' nipple with his slave prod. At low power settings stimulation by this devise could be very arousing. Her breast stood hard and erect, defying her inner demand that it not do so in front of the others.
Another even larger Gorean male spoke in excellent English, "Well Lois, I believe that is your name, I want you to say, 'I am a slave girl.'" When there was silence, he said "I'll say it for you! Lois is a slave girl." His partner maneuvered the control on the prod and Lois grasped in surprised delight as sensations of utterly overwhelming pleasure flooded her brain from her nipple. They adjusted the control again and said, "Lois is a free woman." Sparks flew and she cried out in agony. Even after she broke the contact her whole body shook with the residual pain. The master slaver said, "Let's try this again. Lois is a slave girl!" Lois' body quivered in pleasure. Then Arbus said, "Lois is a free woman." Lois started shaking before he finished his sentence, and then again she cried out in agony. The man commanded 'again," and the ritual was repeated. Over the next hour Lois was forced to experience alternating sensations of pleasure and pain as they called her both a slave girl and a free woman. "He's conditioning her like a lab rat!" said a pretty young thing, who until a few days ago had been graduate student in psychology. "What's a lab rat?" asked Rollo, a slaver from a part of Gor settled by transplanted Vikings. His knowledge of English was extremely limited and he was sure that he had never heard that term before. The man with the prod answered, "A rat is a small rodent, found on Earth. It is much like an urt." He paused for a moment and then said, "Arbus, I think you have proved your point. This was interesting at first, but now it is getting boring." Arbus took the prod from Martin, saying, "This is going to be a stubborn one. For new slaves like her it is best to set the ground rules early. Yet perhaps she has had enough for the time being." He paused, looked down at her and said, "Lois is a slave girl!" This time he did not use the prod. She quivered with involuntary delight. Then he said, "Lois is a free woman." She quivered in fear. "Now Lois, what do you want for me to call you, a slave girl or a free woman?" She looked up at him with defiance, a tear rolling down her cheek. No words came from her mouth, but all in the room knew what she wanted to be called. Arbus reached into his tunic pocket. His hand emerged with a small candy. He said, "Right answer. An obedient little slut like you deserves a treat!" He shoved it through her lips. "Now a free captive might spit it out. A free woman captive would also be of no use to a professional slaver and be put to death. It is your choice!"
Lois let the candy slip between her teeth. It did not matter what this thug said; her legal status was on Gor would be irrelevant once Superman rescued her. All she had to do was play along and not get killed.
Arbus, the master slaver of this place of business in human flesh, knelt down and cupped her right breast in the palm of his hand. He ordered, still in English, "Sylvia, come wash this breast. It is filthy and covered with sweat!"
The slave girl named Sylvia knelt down beside her master. She slowly began to lick and kiss the orb that her master was holding. Lois quivered as she felt that expert tongue and lips tasting and licking up the sweat that covered her breast. In her entire life she had never experienced such a sensual, delicate touch. Clark tried, but he was nothing compared to this. Lois wondered how many decades or centuries of experience Sylvia had at this. She wondered what it would be like to be cleaned in this way all over by the slave girl. Lois had no doubt that the brute holding her breast already knew.
Whenever the girl would lick a spot, she would next blow on it with her warm breath to dry it off. Lois had to wonder if this effort was self-defeating for she could feel herself breaking into a sweat all over again. Finally Sylvia mopped up the remaining sweat with Lois's hair. With a brush Arbus made a mark on Lois's breast. She looked down at the delicately scripted letters that he had made then looked up at him curiously.
He answered her mute inquiry by answering, "It signifies that you are to become a pleasure slave. But we both know it is a lie." "Master?" she asked, confused.
"You are not a slave. You are just a free woman pretending to be a slave."
"Master?" she asked, this time worried rather than confused. He answered, "Perhaps I am wrong. I will give you a chance to prove me wrong." He adjusted his tunic and let his limp member show. "Now Lois, I want you to bring me off with your mouth as only a slave girl can." "Yes, master!" she said. She delicately bent forward and gently lifted the member in her hands. She rubbed and tickled it with her fingers as she brought the tip of it up to her lips. Gently she brushed her tongue against the tip of the prick. Arbus quivered in pleasure as she began to lick and kiss him. She cooed happily as she worked her way around the stiffening member. Even though Arbus was ready now, she did not allow it through her lips. He considered ordering her to do so, but decided to wait and see. He was intrigued about what she would do next.
What was next was that her tongue began to play with one of his balls. Then her lips did the same. He gasped again as the testicle slid into her mouth. Holding the orb gently with her teeth she continued to massage it with her tongue. Next she gently moved over to his other ball. After several minutes of alternating from one ball to the next was she ready to take his member into his mouth. By now it was fully hard and erect. Still tickling his balls with her gentle fingers, she brought the penis to her lips. She began to kiss and suck the member as she pressed her face forward. It slid through her mouth and down her throat. He cried out happily as her head slowly began to bob forward and backwards. All the time, her fingers continued to gently caress his balls.
Morgan stared with amazement as Lois picked up speed. She was thinking, "Well Lois, I never thought you had it in you. No wonder Clark had been so hard a nut to crack! Well, I love a challenge. At least now I know what I'm up against." At last, Arbus began to pump his seed into Lois's mouth. When he pulled the limp member from her mouth she seductively licked the residue from her lips. "Master?" she asked. He looked down on her. "That might have been the best face fuck I have ever received from a free woman. You will truly be a wonder when I fully ignite the slave fires within your belly." Arbus picked up her hand to examine it. It was then that he noticed the slight discoloration around her ring finger. "Interesting! You were married?" "I am married." She answered.
"Even more interesting. Slavers generally do not pick up Earth's married women. They are usually more trouble than they are worth. But I can understand why they made an exception with you. Did you love him?"
"I still love him with all my heart."
"Do yourself a favor; forget about him. He is back on Earth and you will never see him again."
She answered, "There's where you are wrong!" Arbus shrugged and remarked: "You would be surprised how many times a slave girl has told me that and how few times it has come to pass, even when she was a Gorean woman talking about her former free companion. Never has an Earth male come to reclaim his loved one. You will soon learn the truth of my words." "We shall see, Master!" answered Lois confidently. Morgan had regained much of her self-confidence and composure since that terrible, exquisite ordeal in the warehouse. She was also extremely pragmatic and willing to adopt new goals when her other goals were no longer attainable or desirable. She was baffled by Lois's response. "Surely Lois must understand that she was not going to be seeing Earth for a very long time, if ever. And Clark certainly was not coming. Clark was one hunk of a man even with his glasses, but he was no Superman." Morgan heard the chief slaver tell Lois, "The sexual desires of a natural kajira burn brightly within you; I shall look forward to using them to ruin you for freedom. Your man had better hurry, or he will find just another slave slut instead of the woman he married." Lois answered, "If my husband had wanted a slave girl he would have made me one long ago. If he is not pleased with your work you will have to answer to him." Arbus suddenly smiled. "You remind me of someone. Perhaps I will keep you for myself, or perhaps I will sell you to a brothel. Time will tell." He stepped over to examine the next slave, ignoring Lois's indignant response.
Morgan watched as Arbus put other slaves through their paces. She studied him, hoping to gain an advantage when it was her time to be evaluated. She had already given up on all her plans concerning life on Earth. She accepted the central fact of her new life: she was a slave on Gor. But that did not mean a girl could not have fun.
Spending the rest of her life on cushions being fucked by virile men was not such a bad fate. She had now set her sights on becoming the slave of a king or Ubar or whatever they called the leaders in this place, and then perhaps his chief concubine. From there she might go on to become his wife. That was an attainable goal worth striving for. She realized that it might take decades, but on this planet with its highly effective anti-aging drugs she would keep her looks and sensuality for centuries, maybe even millennia. And she definitely had nothing better to do. This man would be the first step towards her new goal. She had to be everything he could imagine her to be, and more.
Most of the girls begged or whimpered when he touched them. Of course it did them no good, the fools. These were men who knew well how to use women and force from them what they did not want to yield. It was with satisfaction that Morgan noted that the markings being placed on most of the girl's right breasts were the same as Lois'. Despite her pretensions, Lois was proving to be nothing special. If anything, she was a little older than the rest of the girls. That had to lose her points.
Morgan knew she was still in her prime. She wondered if high slaves had servants. It would give her particular joy in being served by Lois. As the male approached her she felt almost giddy, like a school girl waiting for her first kiss. But she would do a lot more than kiss if she had anything to say about such matters.
As he approached, she allowed hers body to relax. She struck the most demurely sensuous pose she could come up with. Her eyes looked up at him from a downcast face, a 'come hither' smile on her lips. Her forearms artfully cupped and jostled her breasts so that they bounced seductively. Her smile changed to hot desire when he knelt down on one knee in front of her. She eagerly shifted her pose as his hands pressed against her upper legs.
He made a sound of surprise as he squeezed her legs and worked the palms of his hands up her thighs. "Incredible muscle tone!" he commented. "Were you an athlete?" "Yes!" she answered proudly. "I was the fastest distance runner on Earth." It was an exaggeration, but not much. There were not many people, male or female, that could match Morgan's speed in two-Kilometer or five-Kilometer races. She had been considered a reasonable shot to medal in one or both of those races in the next Olympics. She was even a good marathoner, though not competitive at the highest levels. Arbus seemed impressed. He commented, "You are a find!" Morgan was excited both intellectually and sexually by her new master's examination and comments. She eagerly wiggled against his touch and begged "Please Master, let this slave show you what she can do with this body off the track!" She quivered happily as his palms slid up her flanks. Arbus commented to his cohorts, "The slave fires burn passionately in this one, she is juicing already." It was true; an oily residue was now flooding out of Morgan's cunt and forming in a puddle between her thighs. What at first had been an act was no longer acting. Every inch of Morgan was now alive and jumping to this powerfully attractive man's touch. She bit her lip as he slid the palms of his hands onto her breasts. She pressed her excited, blood-gorged orbs into his hands in her need. She tearfully begged, "Please Master!" Again his face showed surprise. "They're real. Not since Kafka have I felt a pair of breasts like these!" She whimpered back, "I am 100% woman. Let me show you what I can do with these breasts!" "Proceed!" he ordered. Her body swayed as she practically swooned with her exhilaration. But then her disciplined mind reined in her emotions. As she regained control of herself the shrewdly calculating part of her personality became dominant once more. She had to channel her emotions productively. It would do her future plans no good if she was to collapse like a giddy teenager. She told herself, "Keep your eyes on The Prize!" In this case that prize was between his thighs, hidden under his tunic. She delicately slid her gifted fingers underneath the leggings to caress and release the object of her desire. She was surprised and a little disappointed to find him limp. But then she reasoned, "Lois did put him through a good workout." She would just have to put him through a better one.
Diligently, she began to tickle the tip of his penis with her finger and she leaned forward to bring her breasts in play. She allowed the stiffening organ between her mammary globes, engulfing it in her softness. She straightened her body and slid her legs underneath her torso so that she could create a better tunnel for his lust.
She began to slowly thrust herself up and down. Her hands cupped her bosom in such a way as to allow her fingers free to play with his balls. She now saw the head of the fully-erect organ appearing and disappearing again in and out of her cleavage. When the head would emerge she would lick and kiss it. When the head slipped into the cleavage she would thrust her face forward so that she could lick and kiss his naval.
Aided by more then a century of practicing self-control with the kajiri he bought and trained, Arbus' face remained impassive as he watched her work at his body. Time passed. She began to breathe heavily as her body strained to continue its breast-fucking of Arbus. Her body was starting to glisten with sweat. She shifted to a slower, deliberate pace that she could keep up all afternoon, if she had to.
Arbus forced her to do so. When he saw that she was herself on the verge of orgasm, he warned her, "Do not come until I do or you will regret it!" Tears of frustration rolled down Morgan's eyes as she continued her efforts. A steam of blood rolled down her chin as she bit her lip in concentration, yet she continued, now at a slightly faster pace. Finally, she felt his warm spunk as it squirted against her face. She looked up humbly at Arbus. "Did your slave girl proved adequate, Master?" she pleaded to know. He looked down at her for a good long time, holding his tongue as he studied her, obviously thinking and considering his options. When she could bear the suspense no longer, she whimpered, "Please Master, let this worthless slave try…" But before she could finish her sentence Arbus interrupted her. "There is no reason, you were quite good. Sylvia is better, but then she has had over one hundred and fifty years to attune herself to my body." He thrust a candy between Morgan's lips. It seemed to a relieved Morgan that it was the best candy she had ever tasted. And being deemed 'quite good.' felt like the best and most important compliment of her life. As he brushed a couple of letters on her breast he told her "You may come." She touched herself between her legs and quickly cried out in joy and ecstasy. "Your slave begs to be used." She pleaded afterwards. "Let me show you what else I can do with my body. You won't be disappointed." "I've spent enough time on you." He answered curtly and turned his back on her. She realized she had better not press her luck. She had already accomplished what she had set out to do. "I was something special. None of the other girls wear the mark I do. Do they?" Morgan was thinking. "Certainly not Lois. She was deemed just another pleasure slave. A little more than half the girls now had markings identical to that on Lois on one of their breasts. Morgan leaned over and whispered to Sylvia, "Mistress, what do these markings on my breast signify?" Sylvia answered, slightly annoyed, "They merely signify what type of training you are to receive, what type of kajira you are to become. You will be a pony kajira. Morgan said, "I already know what 'kajira' translates to in English. It means a slave girl. What does the word Pony mean in Gorean?"
"The same thing it means in English. It merely signifies that you are a pony."
"But what is a pony?" begged Morgan. Sylvia rolled her eyes and answered if she was talking with an addled- brained idiot, "A pony is a pony. Don't you understand English?" It was obvious that Sylvia, the brainless slut, had been a slave girl far too long. "Didn't Arbus say that she was over one hundred and fifty years old? She is obviously suffering from some sort of dementia; her circular reasoning is as getting me nowhere" Thus Morgan kept mulling things over with herself, muttering, "What is a pony slave?" At last she heard Lois' voice calling, "Oh Morgan!" "What is it?" hissed Morgan. In a forced pleasant tone, Lois said, "Look out that open door." Her hands still on her knees, she indicated a direction with her head.
Morgan twisted around and through the bars of the kennel she saw a doorway. Beyond that there was a team of slave girls being put through its paces. There were three of them. The two outer ones were identical twins. The center one was probably their sister. All three of them were similarly attired. All wore leather harnesses designed to accentuate the beauty of their slender waists and deep cleavage.
Each of their heads was graced with what would best be described as a leather bridles which held small metal bits inside their mouths. Blinders had been placed alongside their eyes. Their long hair had been pulled back and braided into ponytails. The harnesses the girls wore held butt-plugs in place. Extending from the butt-plugs were tails much like those of horses.
They high-stepped and pranced as trained animals might. They were even grunting, shaking their heads, and whinnying like horses might do. A master was walking behind them, giving them direction with the reins attached to the bridles strapped to their heads. Lois called, "Morgan, I think those are Pony Slaves!" Morgan shook her head and whispered, "No! It can't be!" Then she noticed something else the girls had in common; they had the same body shape. Like Morgan, all three kajiri were tall, leggy, and full breasted. Of the new girls from Earth, only one other had the kind of figure Morgan was graced with. Arbus was just finishing his appraisal of her. In what seemed an eternity to Morgan, she watched him make a few strokes on her large breast. She immediately recognized the marks. She looked again at her own breast, hoping that she was mistaken. She became pale as her fate dawned on her. Morgan broke position suddenly and ran to Arbus. She threw herself at his feet, hugging his ankles. She squealed, "Please Master, don't make me a Pony slave. I'll do anything to avoid that fate!" Arbus looked down at her impassively. Morgan heard the cross voice of Silvia**. "We slave girls do anything demanded of us, and more, foolish kajira. Now go back to your position before you make matters worse for yourself."** But Morgan persisted. She pressed herself against her master, begging. "Please, anything but that. I don't want to be turned into an animal." Then Morgan felt a strong but small hand grasping her by her hair. Just behind her she heard Sylvia hissing, "I told you to go back to your position, you insolent slut." Pain engulfed her head as Morgan found herself being pulled away from Arbus. Despite the pain, she fought back kicking and scratching at Sylvia. Sylvia merely applied an elbow to Morgan's solar plexus. Sylvia had many decades dealing with panicking new slaves. Despite Morgan's greater strength and agility, she proved no harder to control. Morgan was quickly dragged back to her position, whimpering all the while that she did not want to be turned into an animal. And then she lay on the straw, in a fetal position, still whimpering the same words over and over again, "I don't want to be turned into an animal." Then she became aware of a massive male form standing above her. Her tear-stained face looked up to see Arbus' stern visage looking down at her. He asked his colleague in a dry tone, "Rollo, do you think that I made a wrong decision? You Torvaldslanders like your bond maids strong and large-chested. What do you think, should I change her designation for that of the Torvaldsland market?" Rollo answered, "It seems to me that she has the making of a fine bond maid. She would also make a good pleasure slave. Properly trained, she could make us much gold at the high market of Ar." Morgan began to get hopeful, but Rollo continued, "But you are right. I think she has the making of a superb Pony slave." Arbus turned to the third man in the room, "What say you, Martin of Bremen?" The man answered, "As you know, I was not originally of this world. Despite being here over five hundred years I do not find her shape or size unappealing. I would be happy to take her as a pleasure slave. Plus I am set in the old ways. This new form of slavery does not interest me. But I am of the Warriors, not a slaver. You, Arbus, are the finest judge of woman flesh I have ever known. I would be a fool not to defer to your judgment." Morgan wailed, "There is another free person in this room. Should we not listen to what she has to say?" Arbus answered, amused, "Really, who might that be?" Morgan wailed, "Lois. You said that she was a free woman masquerading as a slave." Arbus smiled and said "I must admit that you have me there. I did say Lois was a free woman. Well Lois, what say you? Do you think that we should consign your dear colleague to the fate of Pony slavery?" Lois held her tongue for a long while as she noticed that every eye in the room was again locked on her. At last she spoke, in a deliberative tone, "I would dearly like to see dear Morgan prancing around in ponygirl livery, but I would beg you to give her a different fate." Arbus asked, "What fate should that be? Should we boil her in oil? Should we free her?" Lois answered, "No, I would not free her. That bitch Morgan deserves to be a slave." "I could give her to you." commented Arbus.
"You should give her to Martin. He has said he would like her as a pleasure slave, which is a better fate than she deserves."
"Yet you would stop her from being a Pony slave if you could?" asked Arbus.
"Yes, no woman deserves that fate."
"Would you take her place?" asked Arbus. "Think long and hard. You Earth girls never seem to think you will be held accountable for your decisions and actions." Lois was quiet for a moment. Then she answered, "I would if you would free both Morgan and the other girl from such a fate." Arbus exclaimed, "The other girl! I had forgotten about her. You don't even know her. As far as you know, she might be worse that Morgan!" "True, but I still would save her." answered Lois.
"But that is not the choice I offered you. Will make you another choice? You can take the place of either Morgan or the other girl, but not both."
Tears running down her cheeks, Lois answered him. "I choose to take the place of the other girl." Her voice was thick with emotion, Morgan cried out, "No!"
Arbus called out, "Is there any other girl willing to take Morgan's place?" There was silence. Arbus looked down at the desperate brunette. He said, "Well Morgan, I think you have exhausted your last option." Morgan wailed, "Please Master, let me show you my worth as a pleasure slave. I swear you won't be disappointed." But he was not listening to her. He asked, "Sylvia, when you were an earth girl you owned a pony, right?"
"You are right, Master."
"What was its name?"
Sylvia answered, "It was such a long time ago and I don't like to think of my earth days much any more. I don't know if I remember." "Think!" demanded Arbus. "Think hard!" Suddenly Sylvia's eyes brightened up. "It was Cricket, Master." Arbus looked down at Morgan. "You are no longer Morgan. Your new name is Cricket." he informed the barbarian kajira of her new slave name. He had done something like this hundreds of time before, destroying a slave's previous identity was an essential step in breaking earth girls to the collars of Gorean men. She looked up at him in misery. Then Cricket nodded her head in understanding. She fully recognized that it would be inappropriate for a pony slave like her to speak. Arbus walked over to the other girl that had been designated as a Pony slave. He knelt down. He lifted her breast in the palm in his hand. Sylvia handed him a damp cloth. With his fingers he tickled her nipple until her breast grew hard. With the cloth he started to rub off the Pony mark. She meekly begged, "Please Master, do not do this. It is not right that Lois take my place!" Arbus asked, "Do you beg to replace Lois as a Pony slave? You would deny Lois her martyrdom, her sacrifice?" She answered, "Yes Master, I would!" "Why?" asked Arbus. "Do you desire to be a Pony slave?"
"No Master, I don't want to be a Pony slave. I dread that fate, but I dread living with the knowledge that I avoided it only because another girl would take my place even more!"
Arbus answered, "Then you shouldn't worry. You will soon learn that as a slave girl you have no choices about your fate save that which your master grants you. It was never in your hands. Your Master is changing your fate. You will be sent to Torvaldsland as a bondmaid." Then he turned to Rollo. He asked, "Do you disagree?" Rollo looked over the big-breasted blonde and licked his lips. "I think she would make a fine bond maid." he answered. "Bond maid?" asked the girl, who was also from Earth.
"Yes. That is what the men of Torvaldsland call their slave girls. You will learn to churn butter, collect dung, and to serve your masters at their feasts and in their furs. You will still be used as a beast of burden when they need one, such as when they load their long ships with cargo. When you are groaning under the weight of a bag of grain or curled up at your Jarl's feet during the long nights up there, reflect upon just how lucky you were today."
"I would be happier if Lois and Mor… I mean Cricket shared my fate!" the girl responded tentatively.
"You might be happier, but I would be poorer by a great deal of gold. Cricket has the makings of a truly spectacular pony slave and Lois will make a truly fine pleasure slave when she at last accepts her fate."
The girl gasped, "But Master, you said that you were going to turn her into a Pony Slave!" She was astonished. "My brain has not become completely addled." Arbus retorted. Then he proceeded to make clear his methods for the free men in the room, since they might one day be master slavers themselves.
Lois would make a poor pony slave but she has the making of a truly superb pleasure slave, once her slave fires are ignited. I will take great joy in personally igniting them myself. When I am done with her, that proud woman will truly be a slave slut suitable only to serve in a brothel.
Though Lois may now be a free woman inhabiting a slave's body, ultimately her will means nothing. Only the will of a master will matter and I intend to make myself her master in every way. I have over a century's more experience with the female body and psyche than she does. Lois hasn't a chance of preserving her freedom.
He paused and remarked with surprising gentleness, "You have a good heart. You will make some northern Jarl a lucky man." "Thank you, Master!" she wept. He paid her no attention. She was just a slave to be trained and sold. He returned to inspecting his newest property girls. If none seemed special, he would train them as house slaves or chamber slaves. * * * *
Firnax's newest slave girl Diana was whistling as he led her through the Forest. Her warrior master was marvelous. He had been forceful and tireless, yet surprisingly tender during sex. After almost two months of abstinence, his long thick sex had felt absolutely terrific inside her. Better yet, he was a good decent man as well as a skilled lover. Under the power of her newest magic lasso he had told her a great deal about himself and the latest activities of Lurius of Jad.
Her new master would still remember the sex, especially the false slave orgasm she had rendered to him, but not the discussions which preceded it. He had told her of Verna's prospective fate as a ponygirl, as well as the fact that Chenbar had forbidden those of Tyros from mutilating human steeds into mute beasts of burden and sexual service. As the Ubar's prized steed, her mother's old friend would be treated with the greatest of care. Nonetheless, Diana felt it best to see whether Verna wanted or needed rescue. When they had spoken, the older woman had spoken with regret of having turned down the position of Marlenus of Ar's companion because in her heart she would rather have been his slave girl.
Because of the influence of the golden lasso, Firnax now believed that he had defeated a panther girl in hand-to-hand combat and then slave-raped her into submission to his bonds on her wrists. As she ordered, he has forgotten that Diana is the Larl Woman, or that she was the one who started the rebellion in Cos. She is simply Diana of the Northern Forests, a free woman destined for the brand and collar. Being of much the same height, build and complexion, Diana and Verna will make a magnificent pair of Pony slaves.
For her part, Diana is elated. She has found a lover with stamina to match her own, and learned of a means of possibly rescuing her look-alike younger sister from one of the most dangerous sadists on Gor. Pony slave races have become the newest fad on Gor and there will be a grand derby in Ar at the next Love Festival. With any luck, both she and Troia will be contestants.
* * * *
At last there was only Mouse. Frightened and bewildered by what had happened to her and the other woman from Earth, she looked up at three men staring at her intently. The one called Arbus was merely evaluating her as he had done with all the girls. That had happened to her once before. Rollo seemed more interested in her right breast; but Martin's stare was one of unbridled lust. She had seen that in men on Earth who had raped and hurt her. She shivered at the memory.
And then she focused on Arbus as he knelt down in front of her. She closed her eyes tightly shut so that she did not have to see his hand as it approached her breast. She began to shake as she felt his fingers gently stroked her nipple. The nipple responded but her skin was cold and clammy. When he reached down to tickle her clit, her cunt was dry. His finger explored the dry channel. He said, "I can't tell, are you white silk? I mean a virgin. She whimpered, "No, Master; I'm sorry." Unlike the other girls in the kennel, Mouse had never really been in control of her life since her stepfather began to molest her. It was automatic for her to think of herself as the helpless slave of these alien men. The frighteningly big man who owned her asked, "When was the first time you were opened? I mean when you had sex?" His voice was soft, and almost kind. She answered, "When I was twelve." "Who first took you?" he asked gently.
"My step-daddy." she wept.
"Do you take drugs?"
"I have tried marijuana a few times." She answered.
"How much do you drink?"
She answered, "I don't." He asked, "Why not?" She answered, "My Mommy is an alcoholic. I am afraid I might be one too!" Then he exclaimed in puzzlement, "What are you doing here? The slaver who picked you must have been dim-witted" She answered, "I don't think they planned it. I just was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Master." "Really? That is interesting. Explain yourself." the chief slaver ordered. She started telling Arbus about how she was abducted, about why she was in the warehouse and what happened there. He listened intently, occasionally asking a question for clarification. At last he pronounced that he had heard enough. "You are right. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. You don't belong on Gor."
Rollo eyes grew wide, and he stared at Arbus. He had never heard those words coming from his partner, and it never occurred to him that he would, especially concerning a slave girl.
Arbus ignored the sounds of astonishment coming from behind him. He explained to Mouse, "I am going to paint a symbol on your breast. Don't be alarmed. I know you can take it. You are a very brave girl. It just designates you as a kettle girl. It means that you are going to have to do a lot of hard work, but you don't mind that, do you?" She answered**, "No, I don't mind hard work!" She paused and then she added,** "Master." She smiled slightly. Arbus slipped a candy between her lips. Martin interjected, "You know that you are my friend. I was present the day you were born and I watched you growing tall and strong. Normally I would say that no one that can read female slaves as well as you, but I must ask: are you addle-brained? If I have ever seen a cuddly little vulo that was meant to pleasure men, it is this one. Can't you see the swell of her breasts and thighs? Look at her left breast; she already wears a brand. Her nose already wears a ring!" "Some free women wear nose rings," commented Rollo. His face was purposefully bland. "If she is a Tuchuk, you can make me into a slave girl!" laughed Martin. Rollo pointed out, "Her skin does have the right coloring for a Tuchuk, and the shape of her eyes is about right." Now there was a smile on his face. He loved to jest and tease. Arbus answered, "Nevertheless, she is not Tuchuk. And that isn't a brand on her breast, it is a tattoo." Rollo said, "Cute little thing, what is it?" Mouse answered, "It is Pikachu." Rollo asked, "What's a pikachu?" Arbus shrugged his shoulders. Martin commented, "Don't look at me. She is the one branded with it." Mouse answered, "Pikachu is a Pokemon. Pokemon means pocket monster in Japanese. Japanese is an Earth language." "Monster!" whispered Rollo. He made the sign of Thor's hammer. Martin rolled his eyes. He said, "I assure you, these things do not exist on Earth. I have never heard of such a thing." "Neither have I," commented Arbus. Mouse explained, "They don't really exist. They are just the stuff of stories created to amuse children." Martin again rolled his eyes. He said, "I thought as much. This girl does not have a body made for the amusement of children. She has the cuddly form designed for the amusement of free men. A night or two spent with a real Gorean male and she will have the mind of a pleasure slave also. We will hear nothing more of these stories meant for children." "Do you really think so?" asked Arbus." Martin answered, "I've taken frigid women before. Once warmed up they make excellent, needful slaves. This slut will prove no different. Give her to me for a night or two and I will prove it. You'll see!" His voice quite intense, Arbus remarked "I have been training women for over two hundred years. I tell you that not all problems women suffer from can be removed by a day or two of great sex. The trauma this girl has suffered is deep and long-lasting. What would you do to her when she did not respond?" "She would!" answered Martin confidently. "Humor me. What would happen if she did not?" demanded Arbus. "She will respond!" answered Martin. "And if she doesn't, I don't think the results would be pretty. " Arbus asserted.
I know you Martin. You were my father's best friend. You served together and you were shipwrecked together. After father was killed, you practically became my surrogate father. I love you like a father. In many ways you are one of the finest men I know. I have no doubt that if I were in danger you would fight through a thousand men to rescue me. If I took up the scarlet of the Warriors again there is no man who I would more wish to lead my legion. You would spend no effort to make sure that we were victorious, survived, or died well.
But I also know all your history. I know your pride and your personal traumas and I know if you take this girl now as a master takes his slave the results would not be satisfying for either of you."
Martin put his arm around Arbus to comfort him. "Don't get overwrought about this." Martin pleaded. "It is not a big deal. She is just a kettle girl, after all, practically worthless. She certainly is not worth putting any wedge between you and me."
Suddenly Rollo picked up Mouse and cradled her against his chest and started walking away with the surprised girl.
"Where do you think you are going?" asked Arbus. He answered, "You can talk about these deep thoughts as long as you want. I want to hear one of these stories about the Pikachu creature."
The two surprised men watched Rollo carry Mouse away.
Martin asked, "Is she going to be all right? He is a Torvaldslander after all. They are not exactly known for their gentle bedside manner."
"She is safe enough. Rollo can be incredibly gentle when he wants to be. Besides, she is not his type. Mark my words, he will spend this night teaching one our new future bondmaid her duties in the furs. I really think all he wants from the tiny barbarian is a story. He is just a big kid at heart. Furthermore, he won't be alone with her. I will be there with him."
"Why worry about it? So what if he does rough her up? She is just a kettle girl. In the meantime, there are luscious slave girls waiting to be taught their passion, slave girls that are not damaged goods."
Arbus answered, "I can have a pleasure slave girl any time. A really good story is harder to find, especially a new one. Are you coming?" Martin laughed. "I think not. I am over five hundred years old; I have lost all interest in children's stories." "Just do me a favor, and take Sylvia tonight." Arbus asked his oldest friend. "You have had her before; she knows you and is an incredible fuck". Martin answered, "That she is. One of these days I am going to have to remember to challenge you for her." But Martin was smiling. Lois and Cricket watched Martin slip off his tunic and lead Sylvia away. Actually, all the girls watched Sylvia being led away, but only Lois and Cricket recognized the tattoo on his forearm. It was decades old and faded, but still recognizable. Though both of them had seen replicas on Neo-Nazis and skin-heads, they both knew that this was the real thing. A shiver went down both their backs, for Martin had once been a member of the Waffen SS.
Sylvia did know Martin. She had been used by him many times and now knew his wants and desires. Thus it was the early morning before she started to scream in pain.