Birds of a Feather: Chapter 16
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, photographer Morgan Croft, and a teenage runaway nicknamed Pikachu were sent to Gor to become slave girls. Morgan became Cricket, a champion racer pony slave. Pikachu demonstrated a talent as a storyteller but acquired a deadly enemy in Martin, an ex-Nazi and a long time mentor of her owner, Arbus the master slaver. Lois learned that Martin has lured Superman to Gor in order to make it easier for him to take revenge on Wonder Woman for a defeat during WWII Determined to save Troia form the Ubar of Cos, Diana finds herself sold to Clark of Kent, who came to Gor planning to pose as scribe with his slave Kara while he looks for Lois and Wonder Woman. Shortly after that, Clark acquires a slave who her former-master says was once Morgan le Fay. At the witch Slave's suggestion, Diana is renamed Aganipe. Meanwhile, the Priest Kings send out a team to kill Diana and Clark. During the attack Wonder Woman regained her lost memories of Earth.
After a long search and a high stakes wager with her ambitious owner, Clark acquires Cricket and Lady Viveena(Bina) and learns that Lois was being trained in Ar only after a time consuming search and a hair-raising high stakes gamble. As they proceed toward Ar, Clark becomes more Gorean in his treatment of his slaves; one by one they have become his full and abject slave girls. Meanwhile, even after saving her from a lethal gang rape, Rollo fails to convince Pikachu not to run away. She takes Martin's Lugar with her.
Chapter Sixteen: Conquest, Wagering, and Sword Play
That evening, Arbus finally ordered Lois to his furs. Once there, she suffered for five hours under the influence of a passion goad in her rectum while he used her vagina too briefly to induce a climax. He was withdrawing each time after a few strokes in her wet hungry pussy then forcing her to pleasure him to climax with her skilled mouth. After three hours of this torment, Arbus began inquiring if she was ready to make her slaves' submission. Denied speech by his orders, all she could do was nod her head vigorously whenever her mouth wasn't filled with cock. Even after he had her agreement he let her sexual frustration continue for another two Gorean hours. When he gave her permission to speak, Lois abjectly acknowledged Arbus as her Master as well as her Gorean legal owner.
To the slave's surprise, her world dissolved in a tremendous orgasm merely by hearing him pronounce her a full slave and tap her clit while inserting his fingers in her mouth. All the rest of that night in Arbus's sleeping chamber, Lois the slave found levels of ecstasy she had never felt with Clark.
In the morning Arbus had held his sword at her throat and offered her the courtesy of choosing between slavery and death. Lois had not hesitated; she again spoke the words of legal submission. They came easily to a woman who realized that she was now a slave. Arbus had been right in his comment that she had been born in the body of a natural slave but had been raised in society that denied that reality.
Because of the conditioning she had been given, she had become more and more sexually aroused with each phrase of the ritual. Thus she was grateful that Arbus immediately chose to use his slave. She was taken three times by her Master. The first time he physically overwhelmed her, using her orifices with complete disregard for her comfort. Yet because her pussy was already dripping wet and her clitoris was engorged with blood she came to a screaming orgasm as he battered at her loins with his hips and sex.
Then he tied her up with binding cord and proceeded to explore and tease every square inch of her body. When she pleaded and then begged for him to hurry he gagged her with her wadded up slave's tunic and started over. By the time he entered her to complete the Master's Second Taking, she understood that she was completely at his mercy. Her climax was cataclysmic. Not even the ecstasy of the night before compared to her first ever-slave orgasm.
They had sex one more time. It was almost like making love except that she was commanded to keep thinking about the fact that she was now property. With Lois silently thinking "I am owned now, I am just a helpless slave girl," even the tender way she was held and caressed was simply another expression of the will of her Master. He owned her body and mind and it pleased him to bring her to another slave orgasm. This one went on and on. Lois passed out from the power of the maelstrom of sensations and feelings.
Immediately afterwards she was whipped to remind her that she was just a slave. She endured the first five blows in her usual stoic silence. She did not hear or see Arbus change whips but suddenly she felt as if strips of flesh were being torn from her back. It also felt as if an electric shock had been given to her spinal chord. She convulsed in her bonds, suddenly overwhelmed by feelings of panic and despair. She was more afraid of the next blow than she had ever been of anything in her life. With every nerve ending now sensitized to pain, the special metallic Kurri slavers' whip struck her again. Lois's fear gave way to stark terror.
The beating continued with a tharlarion whip. She screamed for mercy until her throat went raw. Then, with long pauses to enhance her terror of the next blow, the Gorean bullwhip whip struck her three more times on the buttocks and legs. When her Master demanded to know if she now feared the whip she sobbed: "Lois fears the whip, Master. She will not be so foolish again."
You are not Lois anymore, slave. You have no name anymore. Lois Lane has been legally dead for months and Lois was just a slave name for our convenience. You are now simply a nameless kajira awaiting her training. Are you ready to be trained now?"
"Yes Master, I am ready." Immediately after these words she screeched again in pain and fright as she was lashed again. She sobbed. "A girl is sorry. A girl is sorry, Master. Please tell her what she did wrong."
"It is your master who will decide when you are ready. I will say when the time is right. Does a girl beg to be trained?
"Yes Master, this kajira begs you to permit her to be trained."
"That is better. Now we are going to cut you down. You will crawl to me and kiss the whip and the hands that wielded it. If you can do this to my satisfaction, I will know it is time for you to be formally trained."
The nameless slave who was once Lois did as she was commanded. She put every bit of her skills into trying to placate the man who held the power to make her life Heaven or Hell and to showing him that she was grateful that he had consented to correct her faults rather than kill her outright. Satisfied, he said, "I once refused to give you a new name because you were a free woman pretending to be a slave. Is that no longer true?" She rubbed herself against him and said, "There is nothing left of that foolish woman who thought herself your equal. This nameless slave wishes only to please her master. Let her please you, Master. Use her as the slave she is in her natural slave's heart." As she found herself vigorously used by man after man of the House of Arbus and Rollo, the nameless new slave cried out happily. When evening came, the master slaver pronounced "I believe you deserve a new name." "What is it," asked the slave?
"You are now Kafka."
She asked, "Kafka?" He nodded that she had pronounced the name correctly. She paused, thinking. Then she asked, "Like Bruce and Selina's child?" "Whose child?" questioned Arbus, who had heard both those names before. Kafka said, "I beg your indulgence. They were a couple I knew on Earth, Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. They had a beautiful little girl and christened her 'Kafka.' I was her godmother." Arbus asked, "The mother's name was Selina Kyle?" He persisted, now smiling broadly as a rush of happy memories raced through his mind. "Yes it was, Master!" Kafka affirmed for him, although she wondered why this news had made him so happy. He then said, "Do not grow too attached to the name. Your new master will probably change it. Kafka asked, "My new master?" Arbus answered, "Yes, you have been sold."
"To whom, Master?"
He chuckled, answering only: "Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajira." It was a very old and common saying on his world. Kafkaheld her tongue, using it instead to give pleasure to her Master. Lois Lane had never felt this content and emotionally fulfilled giving sexual service to a lover. Now it was difficult for her to think of herself doing anything else.
Unbeknownst to them, Martin was returning to the house. A nude, unconscious Pikachu was slung over his shoulder. The pistol was hidden underneath his tunic.
* * * *
As he gazed at the passing crowds, Clark simply stood where he was. Aganipe stood in front of him, bent at a right angle at her waist. His cock was buried in her hot and talented cunt. He was not fucking her; they were both standing still. For the present she was basically just a cock-warmer. But then, one used slaves when and how one wished, and she felt fantastic. Aganipe wore her pony girl's harness and bridle; there was still a bit in her mouth. Yet she was mounted on her master's cock so she was content.
It was the height of the Spring Love Festival and they were standing at the edge of one of the main plazas of Ar. Occasionally a free woman would give them a disapproving look, but both of them had grown used to that. One grew used to disapproving looks from free females quite quickly on Gor. Given that Clark was dressed in the black of the Assassins, nobody challenged him.
There were many ponygirl teams working out in that plaza. The Grand Championship Derby was tomorrow and each owner wanted to tune their team to perfection. Clark watched his potential competition with interest. Bina stood beside him. She and her team watched with more critical eyes. These were their competition, opponents to be scrutinized for their relative strengths and weaknesses.
Superman was actually more worried that he would not be allowed to race than he was about the outcome. Fortunately, Morganna had assured him that a golden tarn piece in the right hand would assure a position. They were here, not only to sign up for the race, but also because Morganna believed this was the best place to start their search for the House of Arbus and Rollo within the warrens of Ar. It was even possible that either Arbus or Rollo would be present.
Suddenly Clark felt Aganipe's vaginal muscles clench strongly. Her whole body tensed up. Her dangling breasts started to jiggle and bounce as she started to breathe faster. Through her bit she whispered, "Master! Over there, it is them!" Clark suddenly saw what she was talking about. A new ponygirl team had entered the plaza. A squad of armed guards walked with them wherever they went. The guards wore the livery of the Imperial guard of Cos and held their drawn weapons like they were the best of the best. The ponygirl on the right was a lithe, stunningly beautiful, green-eyed olive-skinned brunette. Clark had read that the former Ubara Talena was one of the most beautiful women on Gor. Now he believed it. The other ponygirl seemed a somewhat-younger duplicate to his Aganipe. He would have to think of a new name for her when he acquired her, perhaps 'Valkyrie.' But what really startled him was the rider. He looked at Bina and exclaimed, "She's you!" Bina answered, "Yes Master, she is my sister." Clark remarked, "She is more your sister. She is the spitting image of you. She is your twin, she has to be." A thought came to Clark, "Could there be three of them?" He half-expected the third one to appear, driving Queen Hippolyta.
He had to admire the precision of this team. The pair moved as one animal. Even their hips and breasts tended to sway the same. Had this been a show contest, Clark's team would not stand a chance.
He continued watching the team as it drew closer. In a minute, the team stood at attention just a few feet in front of Clark. Clark again scrutinized the team, particularly the eyes of Donna Troy. He saw no recognition of her sister. There seemed to be little sentience or intelligence behind them. That was true for both sets of eyes on the Pony slaves. They stared ahead like… well, like animals.
Clark did not notice at first, but the free woman driver was trying to get his attention. Kara had to nudge him in the ribs. Realizing his mistake, Clark asked, "May I help you?" "My name is the Lady Florinda," the driver informed him. "I see you have gotten to know my sister. I must say she has never looked better. I must also say that I am much impressed with your team. Will they be racing tomorrow?" Clark answered, "That is my intention, but it has not been determined whether they will be allowed to race." "You must talk my Free Companion. He has considerable sway with the Racing Commission on such matters." Lady Florinda told him. "Come along. I will take you to him. He is anxious to talk with you." Taken off guard, Clark inquired, "Really? How could that be?"
"Your reputation precedes you, Clark of Kent!"
"Who might your free companion be? Is he a retainer of Lurius the Jad?"
She answered, "Not exactly. Come along. I do not like to keep my companion waiting. I will give you a ride." Clark was reluctant until Morganna hopped aboard. Then he stepped onto the chariot. It was a close fit but Lady Florinda did not seem to mind. He could feel the pressure of a dagger sandwiched between him and Lady Florinda. She did not seem to be interested in using it, though. Embarrassed by the pressure of her body he assured her, "I can walk." She answered, "Do not worry. I just want to experience an inkling of what my sister has been experiencing. Is she a good fuck?"
"She is adequate. How are you?"
She chuckled at his sally and assured him that she was much better, "Too bad you will never find out!" She remarked ruefully.
"Why is that?"
Her tone changed abruptly, "Don't be presumptuous. My delights are now reserved to my Free Companion, and to he alone!" He watched as the chariot wound its way through the winding streets and beautiful soaring towers of Ar. At last, they rolled to a stop at the base of a particularly regal tower with the banner of Cos hanging from a high balcony. Lady Florinda pushed her way between Clark and Morganna to take his arm, saying "Come this way. This will not take long."
Reluctant, Clark held back. He realized they were still surrounded by guards. He did not particularly fear them, but he worried about any sort of altercation; a scuffle with Lurius' guards might reveal some aspects of Clark of Kent that Superman did not want any better known.
Morganna, on the other hand, was serenely confident. "It is all part of the Dance." She assured him. "Come along." Clark considered her words: "The Dance Macabre? Why does that not reassure me?" He wished Morgan would elaborate and looked his question her way. She certainly noticed his puzzlement, but she only winked at him.
With a compliment of Guards behind and in front, the trio proceeded down a long series of short hallways and stairs until they came to a great room with a magnificent view of the city skyline. The chamber reminded him of what the decadence of Rome must have looked like. There were slave girls all over the place. Some of them were suffering various degrees of torture. Other servants, functionaries, and retainers walked about, most of them wearing robes that appeared to be togas. In the center of the room reclined a huge, grossly fat figure which reminded Clark of Star Wars' Jabba the Hut. He too, had guards around him.
Lurius of Jad looked up from a Kaissa board, "Companion! This is an unexpected delight." He remarked with obviously forced sweetness. "I did expect to see you until late evening. What brings you back so much sooner? I thought you would be spending this time to prepare for the race." Noticing that all eyes were upon her, Lady Florinda walked sedately up to the man and sat down in the high chair beside him. She reached to the table then popped a grape into her mouth. Only then did she speak: "Lurius, I bring you Clark of Kent!" The fat man beamed with approval at this news. "Why Florinda, I did not realize that you were so resourceful. It seems you are going to be much more than just a political asset by my side. I picked very well indeed when I choose you for my companion rather than your wealthier sister. You are a reminder to all that a scroll should never be judged by the decorations on the tube." Clark asked, "Am I to understand that you are Lurius, Ubar of Cos and that Lady Florinda is your free companion." Lady Florinda answered for him. "My Lurius and I have only taken the Oaths of Companionship recently. You could call this journey to Ar our honeymoon of sorts. He had never seen the towers of Ar and I promised to show them to him. This is the Festival of Love, after all." Lurius said nothing further on this topic, His eyes were on Morganna. "I see that I have been brought a bonus," he remarked. "It has been a long time, Morgan of Wales." Morganna knelt down and answered, "It has, My Lord!" "Are you telling me that you know this bit of slave fluff," Lady Florinda asked. She seemed disgusted by the idea. Lurius rebuked her sharply: not because she had done anything wrong but because making those around him uncomfortable was one of his chief joys in life. "Not only do I know her, but all she has to do is say the word, and she will be taking your place beside me." Lady Florinda grew pale. He then asked, "Well Morgan, are you willing to reconsider my offer?" She answered, "Our dance was a passionate one, was it not? But you have always said that a man who chooses a free companion for either love or passion is a fool. " "True," he conceded, "Janina is a far better slave than she was free companion.' Long ago, well before he became Ubar of all the cities of Cos, Lurius of Jad had conspired to kill his free companion's parents and enslave his wife. "Then wear my collar." he invited.
"Ubar, I fear it will not be you who ignites my slave fire."
Miffed at her refusal, for few women so lightly refused him, especially now that he ruled nearly a dozen cities, Lurius of Jad did not disguise his dubiousness at her decision: "Will it be this one? He does not seem the type." Determined not to let the sadistic pedophile get the better of her in repartee, Morgan brought up what had to be a raw wound in the Ubar's ego. "You would be surprised, my Lord. My Master has done wonders with your rebel ex-slave. How many men of your capital city died in her rebellion? The tales of that day have found their way into the paga taverns of Gor. Would you like to hear one of the songs?" She asked, her eyes dancing with merriment. The Ubar of Cos, waved his hand in the Gorean signal for negation, and turned his full attention to Clark. He began "I believe that you have something that belongs to me." "It is my understanding that she is no longer yours, and that in fact you long since recovered what was once yours. It is public knowledge that you tried and sentenced the slave who started that rebellion of your galley slaves. By what right do you claim my ponygirl?" Clark asked, Lurius sighed. "That is a trivial technicality. The Larl Woman is wanted for crimes against the state of Cos and for the murder of assorted masters. As an Ubar, I must insist that you surrender the criminal slave for my judgment." Clark bristled, "Is that a threat? If it is, than let's be at it!"
As if bored with the whole matter, the Ubar of Cos picked up glass of kalana wine and downed it. He then reminded Clark of the harsh realities of his situation:
You could undoubtedly smash my body like a bowl of eggs, man of Krypton, but you would have to do so to everyone in this room. Who knows which might be an agent of the Priest Kings? They like to place such spies in my court, and I like having them there. They have proved very astute counselors so far.
Even if they are not watching at this very moment, the Priest Kings might get suspicious when they learn that one man killed Lurius of Jad and his entourage. It would not be hard to put two and two together. How long do you think it would take from them to retaliate?
At Clark's look of astonishment, he remarked that no one could be an effective ruler on Gor without at least some knowledge of the activities of the Priest Kings. Then he continued:
Yet I suspect that if I attempted to take the steed in question from you, you might do something just that foolish. This leaves us at a temporary impasse. You have something that is mine and which I am determined to have back. You, on the other hand are unwilling to give her back and I cannot simply take the bitch from you.
There would seem to be just one way out. I must change your mind about retaining ownership of the fair Princess Diana of the Amazon panther girl tribe. I happen to possess something that you want, is that not so? What have you come to Ar to seek, after all?"
Unwilling to confirm or deny what might simply be speculation on the Ubar's part, Clark hissed, "Get to the point!"
"We are both dissatisfied with the present situation. It would be much better if one of us was content, would it not?"
"Not if it was not me!"
Suddenly Morganna interrupted them, "You and your male egos! There is going to be a race. Both teams are going be in the race. Whoever wins will win both teams. That is what you both want, isn't it?" Lady Florinda gasped at such effrontery from a slave girl, but Lurius chuckled deeply in appreciation. He said, "As usual, Morganna speaks the truth without flattery. I so miss her fine counsel. Can we agree, whoever wins gains the other's team?" Clark answered, his face still grim, "Agreed. But you had better hope that I win." Lurius raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?" His voice was mild, but at the last word the guards came to attention, one hand on their sword hilts.
"Let's just say that it would be better for all concerned if my team emerges the winner."
"I could have better men than you killed for such a remark. Your presence is becoming tiresome. If there is nothing further I can do for you, my men will show you out.
Never one to abide by protocol, Morganna jumped on the rhetorical closing. "As a matter of fact, there is, My Lord Ubar. Would you happen to know where the House of the slavers Arbus and Rollo can be found?" Lucius smiled, "I am indeed familiar with that establishment. They do very fine work. One of my aides will give you the directions." Lurius and Florinda watched the pair leave. A few minutes later, Lurius asked, "Do you still plan to race your team yourself? If you lost you would become slave to that man." She answered casually, "I could well imagine being a First Girl to him. It would be quite pleasant, I should think." "First Slave? My intelligence reports indicate that the man has acquired some very talented slaves, already. Aren't you being a bit presumptuous?" Lurius teased his companion. She answered in the same spirit. "The Ubara of Cos must be presumptuous. Otherwise your reputation will suffer." Lucius laughed. He was increasingly enchanted by this woman whom he had chosen primarily for political reasons, and because he couldn't stomach the idea of her viper of a sister at his table. "Florinda, you run a great risk of my becoming fond of you, or worse yet my developing a passion for you. You know what would happen you then?" "I consider myself warned." She responded. A free companion of the Ubar's youth was now the palace slave Janina. Life with this man would always be a dangerous adventure.
Arbus noted that Rollo was chopping wood. Yet he did not go up to talk to the big Viking. Instead, he returned back inside the building. He thought about sending Rollo on an errand, but if he even spoke one word to the man, Rollo's suspicions might be roused. No, it would be better to leave Rollo be. He closed the door and then had it barred.
One of his men came up to him and said, "The girls have been assembled." "Good." Arbus responded. "In a few Ehn Rollo will be breaking down that door. Then he will proceed to break down this door. You are not to try to stop him. Do you understand?" "Sir?" asked the puzzled young man. "Rollo likely will attempt to kill anybody who tried to stop him. It is best for all that you leave him be." He turned and exited to the adjoining room. Sylvia attempted to follow him. But suddenly he turned again to face her. "No, Sylvia your place is out here!" Sylvia protested, "My place is in there with my girls."
"Are you fond of Pikachu?"
She answered, "Yes Master, quite fond!"
"Then your place is out here. There is nothing that will happen in there that you have not seen before."
She answered, "Yes Master!" An order from one's master was to be obeyed.
He walked inside. He closed the door and then barred it.
Inside the girls in training waited in rows, frightened and nervous. Kafka was front and center. Every set of eyes was centered on Pikachu. She knelt, nude, frightened. Eta knelt behind her and to her right. She too was shaking.
Martin stood beside Pikachu. He was wearing his dress SS uniform in full regalia. The only thing incongruence to it was the short sword, sheathed and strapped to his side. He seemed to be in a triumphant mood. Arbus said, "Pikachu, you have been accused of thevery and attempting to escape. Is this charge true?" Tears in her eyes, shaking, she answered, "Yes, Master,"
"Do you understand the penalty for thevery?"
She answered, "Yes Master!"
"The punishment for thievery is additional branding. I understand Martin has already given you a penalty brand before he returned you to this establishment. Is that right?"
She nodded her concurrence and he continued.
"Since it was from him that you largely stole from that was just. I will not brand you again this day but be warned my lenience is not unending.
That leaves the matter of your attempted escape. Do you know what the penalty for attempting to escape is?"
She answered, "Yes Master. The slave girl is hamstrung"
"Do you have any idea what hamstringing feels like."
She answered in a small voice, "No, Master."
"It is incredibly painful. It is probably more painful than anything else you have felt in your life. Do you understand?"
She answered bravely, "I think so." Arbus answered and said, "No you don't. You are to be hamstrung for attempted escape. Your Achilles tendon will be cut, your calf muscle will roll up and you will never be able to use that foot again. But it will be a reminder to the other girls: An unforgettable warning against ever attempting such a stunt themselves. Do you understand?" Pikachu answered, "Yes, Master!"' "I don't think that is truly necessary." Martin interjected, "**Surely, if our little Pikachu submits and declares herself a true slave then there is no reason that her shapely calf should be distorted." Then he instructed Pikachu, "**Just look into your heart and admit to yourself to what you truly are, a slave girl."
Pikachu remained silent. If Martin wouldn't want a hamstrung slave then that was what she was determined to be. Besides that, she didn't think she was a slave girl in her heart; she was only a legal slave on a planet that allowed the ownership of human beings.
Arbus commanded, "Eta press your scalpel against Pikachu's tendon!" Eta pleaded for reconsideration of the order, "Master, Please!" Arbus said menacingly, "Does a command have to be repeated?" The kindly teacher of whom Pikachu had become fond was nowhere in sight, this aspect of Arbus was terrifying. Eta answered, "No Master!" She bent forward and pressed her scalpel against Pikachu's skin but she did not make a cut. She whispered, "Please Pikachu, submit, even if you don't mean it." Yet Pikachu remained silent. Arbus ordered**, "Cut the tendon." Eta began to press her scalpel into Pikachu's skin. Pikachu winced in pain as a small stream of blood ran down her ankle. Suddenly there was a clatter of steel as the instrument fell to the ground. Arbus growled,** "Eta!"
"Master, I am sorry. I cannot do this. I was taught to repair bodies, not to damage them!"
"Stand aside." Arbus ordered. Then he walked behind Pikachu and pulled out his razor-sharp Gorean short sword. He placed it against Pikachu's shivering leg. He demanded, "Do you submit?" She whispered her refusal, and he sliced the sword into her ankle. The tendon snapped. Pikachu let out a blood-curdling scream that tore at Lois's heart and made her cover her ears. Yet the teenager continued screaming in her pain. All present heard Rollo's distant reaction. "Pikachu!" he roared. In his mind Arbus counted down**, "Three…. Two…. One." There was a distant dim thump. Arbus counted,** Six…. Five…. Four…. Three…. Two…. Then there was a sharper thud as Rollo began to use his great battle ax on the door.
Pikachu continued to scream, her eyes wide in pain. Her voice was going hoarse as she rolled up in a fetal position. Then there was relative silence as Pikachu's mouth was open but little sound came out.
Martin got to his knees beside Pikachu. She looked at him wild-eyed. He said, "You will now submit or you will be hamstrung again. Now that you know what it feels like you surely will do so. Reach into your heart. You know it is what you want." She looked at Martin, tears streaming from her eyes. At first she said nothing. There was silence except for the distant thump and Rollo's anguished call for Pikachu. Gradually her lips formed to pronounce a word. With supreme will, she was able to force out a single word, "No!" Martin became wild eyed. "How dare you! How dare you!" he screamed. "You will be punished for such insolence!" Arbus reached into a pouch with his free hand. "No," he said "she won't." The master's slaver's voice and manner were authoritative. He withdrew a key. Martin screamed. "You have to make an example of her. You've got to!" Arbus answered, "I plan to." He pulled out a small key. He reached over and inserted the key into the lock on Pikachu's collar. He turned it. There was a click as the collar opened. He opened it wider, removing it from her neck. She looked in surprise at Arbus as he did so. Martin screamed, "What are you doing?" Arbus ignored Martin. His attention was on his property girl. "You are free." He told Mouse Suzuki. "Do you understand?" Martin screamed "What! You can't do that!" Pikachu continued to stare at him, mutely. At last she forced out the word, "Free?" "Yes, you are no longer a slave girl!" Arbus confirmed for her. Pikachu rasped, "NO…LONGER…A…SLAVE GIRL!" "That's right, Pikachu." Arbus affirmed. "Or Mouse, or whatever your name is now." With that confirmation Mouse began to cry again, only this time she was weeping happy feminine tears of emotional overload. Aghast, Martin exclaimed, "You can't be serious. What message are you sending to these girls?" Arbus answered, **"Good Point." He stood up and said, "**Anybody else who wants to be freed should step forward and I will hamstring them also." No girl moved. Save for Pikachu's joyful but pained weeping, there was silence. And then abruptly Martin's jubilant shout startled them all: "I claim her!" He was suddenly ebullient once again. "What?" asked Arbus.
"She is an Earth girl, without a home stone. I claim her as my slave. The Codes make it that simple, Arbus. Are you going to challenge my claim?"
"No, but I must warn you that there is somebody out there who in little more than an Ehn will do exactly that.
"But it will be a fight between him and me. This will have nothing to do with you. You won't interfere, right!"
"Why should I? She is not my slave girl. If Rollo wants to die over her, it is none of my business. It will be a matter between the two of you." He smiled reassuringly. Quite pleased now, Martin chuckled knowingly. "Very bright. I only now understand what you are doing. She is not your girl, so you are no longer part of this. Your honor will remain intact. You are a very wise man, Arbus." "Thank you." Arbus responded, his face was bland but his eyes twinkled. Martin turned his attention to the girl. He proclaimed triumphantly. "You are mine, girl, to do with what I want. Do you understand?" Arbus spoke silently, the words audible only in his mind, "Say it now, little one; you are only entitled to a single chance." As if she had heard him, the free woman from Earth proclaimed, "I claim the right of Slave's Choice!" Caught off-guard by this development, Martin exclaimed, "What?" She said, "I. Melissa Suzuki of Metropolis, refuse to give slave submission. I would prefer death to slavery. I choose death. " Martin screamed, "It is denied." Arbus said. "A Captive's Choice has been made, Martin. You can't deny her death except by letting her go on her way. Otherwise you must give your captive the quick clean death the codes call for. Give her a quick death, Martin. She deserves that!"
"I will give her death, but it will be neither clean nor quick. It will be the death I say she deserves. I have been offended and I will be satisfied."
"I don't think you fully understand the situation here." Arbus remarked in a final attempt to reason his way out of a confrontation between his friends. "Even should you want to betray the codes of your caste, there isn't time to give her a long painful death. In very few Ihn Rollo will be here and he won't let you do it." Martin asked, "How is he going to stop me?"
"He is not, because by the time he breaks in here the situation will be resolved."
"How so?"
"Either you give her a quick death, the death she is entitled to as a free woman, or I will kill you for betraying the codes of the Scarlet Caste." Arbus drew his sword and moved into attack position. "You can't be serious!" Martin protested. He had thought that Arbus was on his side in this dispute over the story-telling kettle girl.
"Draw your sword!"
"Why? She is just a slave girl. She is not worth losing your life over."
"She is a free woman that Rollo is very fond of, as am I. We chose to defend her life and freedom. Now draw your sword or yield your capture rights."
"NO! I love you. You are like a son to me!"
"Draw your sword!" Arbus thrust forward. Automatically Martin reacted. There was a clash of steel.
With a final thud from Rollo's shoulder the outer door gave way. Rollo pushed his way in, his great ax in hand. He stood there a moment and then charged the second door. The great blade broke through the second door with one swing.
Meanwhile, Sylvia, who had been listening at another door, had already run into the Street of Brands screaming, "Help! Help! They are killing each other. My master needs your help!" She ran wildly, attempting to get someone's attention. She did not know how long she had run or even where, when suddenly she ran into something with a dull thump. At first she thought it was a wall. But then she looked up and realized that it was a man dressed in black. He was looking down at her curiously. He asked, "Can I help you?" His voice was kind, and entirely sincere. She blinked her eyes and asked, "Who are you? What are you?" He answered, "I am Clark of Kent. Do you need help? "You are Clark Kent, you're kidding!" She was dumbfounded
"No, I'm quite serious." he answered, and then remarked "You seem to be in some distress." She answered, "We must hurry. There is no time!" Rollo kicked away the last remnants of the door and stepped in. He looked around. Martin was standing in the center of the room. There was blood on her uniform. His sleeve was cut and blood was seeping into the fabric there. To one side knelt Arbus, grasping his stomach. Blood flowed through his hands. He looked at Rollo in sorrow. Pikachu lay on her side near them. She screamed, "Run Rollo. 'For Gods sake, run!" Rollo screamed, "I will kill you!" He rushed forward.
Contemptuously, Martin met his charge. Just as he so often imagined, he deftly dodged Rollo's attack and slipped his sword between Rollo's ribs and into his heart. The movements went just as he always envisioned them, except this time Rollo was not there to be skewered!
The Torvaldslander had slid to his knees and leaned back underneath Martin's thrust. With one arm he swung his great ax wide. Martin saw the ax coming and started to dodge it. But the ax cut into his calf muscle, just above his boot. With the giant Rollo's awesome strength behind it the ax continued, slicing through his leg. It caught Martin in the middle of his thigh. Yet still the stroke continued on. With a look of complete surprise rather than pain on his face, Martin felt himself fall to the floor. In front of him were his legs, severed. He looked at Rollo and asked "How?" Rollo stood up and said, "I conditioned you like a lab rat, you stupid bosk."
Suddenly there was a crash and a wall gave in. Standing on the other side was a man dressed in black. Everybody took a moment to stare at him.
Martin could see his lifeblood flowing from him. He was weaker with each passing hand of Ihn, and yet that was okay; he did not want to live without his legs. But he was not dead yet, he could take Rollo with him to Hell or Valhalla. He pulled his Lugar from its holster.
As he did so he saw HER. The witch who had haunted his dreams for so many years was standing behind the big Assassin coming through the hole in the wall. Suddenly he knew who the intruders were. Two quick shots would do it: One into the bitch, and one into the man. And at last his need for vengeance would be sated. He pointed the gun at the bitch (she wasn't looking!) and pulled the trigger. There was no shot, nor even the distinctive click of the firing pin. He cocked it manually and got the same result.
In his puzzlement he glanced up at Rollo. The seven-foot tall Warrior was in the process of bringing his ax down on top of Martin. Martin's last thoughts were of his hope that perhaps Rollo was right in his beliefs. "Perhaps there is a Valhalla and my lost men will be waiting for me. Some of them have certainly been waiting long enough"
The ax blow crushed Martin's head and continued through his body until it lodged itself in the floor below. Martin's head disintegrated with a gusher of blood that splattered all near Martin. Some of the slave girls from Earth fainted. Everyone else seemed stunned in shock and horror.
Screaming "Master," Lois now ran to the man who had conquered her body and will. Arbus allowed himself to slip from his knees and into Lois's embrace. He looked up at her and asked, "Selina named her little girl Kafka?" Lois answered, "Yes!" Then Arbus noticed the strange man helping to hold him. The man was saying, "We will get you help!" The big stranger spoke only a single word to the tall slave girl beside him: "Morganna." The exquisite brunette darted out of the room. "You are Clark Kent, aren't you? Arbus asked, The man answered, "Take it easy. Do not strain yourself." Arbus coughed up some blood and said, "I am so glad to meet you. Your wife was a remarkable woman. I am afraid that I have ruined her for freedom, though." He closed his eyes, thinking one last time about Kafka, that spirited filly that he never broke. Morganna knelt beside Arbus and drew him to her bosom. Then she shook her head. "Master, I am afraid he is no longer part of the Dance, even as you will one day cease to dance." Clark answered, "I know. I have always known that I am not immortal." Lois started to beat her balled-up fists against Clark. She shouted, "Why couldn't you have gotten here earlier. A day, an hour, ten minutes, or even one minute would have made all the difference.
Rollo cradled Mouse against his chest tenderly and attempted to reassure her that it was over. He saw that the collar around her neck was gone and realized what that meant. He reminded her that she was now free and should be rejoicing. But it did not cheer her up. Mouse could only smell the blood, look at the bodies, and weep.
Sylvia crept back into the blood-splattered room and knelt beside her beloved master of so many years of her life. She began to pray, for she knew not what else to do. She was now a slave without a master; never had she felt so alone in her years on Gor.
A small crowd began to develop, gaping at the large hole in the wall and what it revealed inside. Word began to spread through the streets that Martin of Bremen was dead, though many refused to believe that pile of body parts in the odd uniform could possibly be him. Others knew that it was, including the slave Ayeka and her young son. They wept for joy.