FictionMania Story Chrysalis of Gor

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Chrysalis of Gor

by: Tex Monday

View Story Details

Rating: XAdd Review Read Reviews, Last Review 01/24/15 (5)Added:01/23/2015

Complete:no Synopsis: Harold McMasters was a regular guy when he was taken by agents of the

Priest Kings and changed into a beautiful girl to be a slave on the Planet

Gor. (This is the first of three parts- background,physical change andslave training prior to being taken to Gor)

Categories:Chemical or Drug Induced Change Mind Altered, Hypnosis,Brainwashed SciFi Stuck The OperationKeywords:

This story is based on the "Chronicles of Gor" novels written by JohnNorman.I claim no rights to these characters, ideas or specifics listed here.This story is a work of fan fiction.

Chapter One

Third Hand, Fourth Day of the Month of Se Kara



Present Day

I lay my head to the sand, the silk and bells still moving from thebreeze. My body was covered in sweat, heart racing. All around me, Icould hear thunderous noise; men slapping their shoulders in approval.

I dare not lift my head until ordered to. After all, I was only aslave.

"Was she not wonderful, my friends?" a man yelled, walking next to mein the sand pit. The noise grew louder, followed by yelling from themen in attendance. "Be sure to pay you two copper tarsks for thepleasure of her company. We will draw from the lottery in 2 Ehn. Nadu,Tana."

I rose to my knees, spread apart, back straight, head down. Theposition of the pleasure slave.

"Is she not beautiful...exquisite in her silks and collar?" The mencontinued to slap their shoulders with the hands. Men began to throwcoins, mostly Silver Tarsks to the sand before me. I looked up at theman next to me, he nodded and I began to collect them and place them inthe silks around my waist. A slave must never touch coins unless aMaster allows it. I quickly scooped up the coins, counting them tomyself. I knew that Master would keep track of how many were beingthrown to me. Any missing coins would result in my hand being cut offor worse. Once I was finished, I left the room kneeling in the hallway.

Farvus arrived and looked down at me. He was the manager, for lack of abetter term. He ran the tavern, making sure everything was as it wassupposed to be. I was well aware of his eyes roaming over my body as

the men in the tavern did earlier. I blushed. It still took a littlegetting used to.

"Rise," he said. I stood up, holding the silk with my fingertips. Heran his hands through the pile of coins and smiled. He began takingthem out and placing them in a small sack on his belt. I kept my headdown so as not to look at him. A slave girl is at the mercy of herMasters and must do as they command. "You did very well today."

"Thank you, Master," I replied, blushing just a bit. I had been dancinghere for some time. I never thought I was that good, compared to theother girls, but he told me otherwise.

"When I am finished," he continued, "you will come with me to seePortous."

I nodded. "Yes, Master." I shuddered. Portous was the Tavern Master ofthe Slave Bells, the tavern where I now worked. He could be a kindMaster or a cruel Master. It depended very much on his mood. Lately, heseemed cross with his paga slaves. Just yesterday, I watched him beatone of the girls merely because she had dared to look at him as hewalked by. I waited patiently for Farvus to finish.

"Leading position," he said. I leaned into his hand, allowing him tograb my hair, then rose and headed towards Master's office.

The door was closed with a small metal sign on the front. I was unableto read the writing, most barbarian slaves are illiterate. He knocked



at the door as I kneeled quietly.

"Enter!" The voice boomed through the wood of the door, nearly shakingthe rafters. Farvus opened the door and I, still in leading position,entered before him. Portous was a large man, slovenly, with a hugebrown beard and dirty, long wavy hair. He always seemed to havesomething in his beard; bread, paga that spilled from his goblet or

worse. And he smelled. But it didn't matter. He was my Master and therewas nothing I could do about it.

"I've brought the slave girl, as you requested," Farvus replied. Hestopped and I quickly kneeled before him, head down, knees exposed, inthe position of the pleasure slave. I didn't know what he wanted mefor. It was better to be prepared for anything.

Portous was writing something in a book. He looked up quickly, spottedme and waved his hand to Farvus. Farvus nodded and left the room.Portous went back to his writing, ignorning me. I knelt there quietly.A slave is not permitted to speak unless their Master allows it. If I

did, my tongue could be cut out. He took a bite out of a piece of Sar-tarna break and slurped his paga. My head was still down but I couldimagine that small pieces of the bread were stuck in his massive beard.He cleared his throat and put down the quill. I heard the chair moveback from the desk and could hear his feet coming down the small stairsbefore his desk.

"Ah, Tana," he said, as if my presence there was a surprise. "I heardyou did very well in the dance tonight."

"Thank you, Master," I replied. "Tana wishes to be pleasing." Masterwishes that his slaves talk about themselves in the third person.

He laughed, rightly so. I would be pleasing whether I wished it or not.He sat down on another small chair a few about 10 horts from me.

"Tower, Tana," he said. I changed my position so that my knees werecloser together. This seemed unusual to me. Most men I've seen havepreferred the Nadu position, with knees spread.

"You have seemed very sad lately, Tana," he continued, taking anothersip of the paga. I looked up, a confused look on my face. I had neverheard of a Master caring about the feelings of his slaves.

"Master?" I asked.

He laughed. "You think because you are slave, that I should not carefor your feelings, hmm? Well, you are property. I care that you arewell as I would care for a pet sleen who could not track or a vulounable to lay eggs. A Master CAN care for their slaves." He stood up,glaring at me. I quickly put my head down.

"To my boots, girl." I quickly fell to my stomach, crawling across thefloor and kissed his boots. He had not washed in some time and thestench almost made me throw up. A slave girl must do as she iscommanded...no matter what. "But you must still remember that you areonly a slave."

Portous laughed then pulled his foot away. "Tower," he commanded. Ireturned to the Tower position. "As I said, you seem very sad lately.Are you not happy here?"



I stopped and looked up slowly. "May a slave speak, Master?"

He nodded. I looked up at him a bit more. I could see the pieces ofbread in his beard, as I suspected.

"As Master knows, Tana is a barbarian slave." He nodded again. A

barbarian slave is one that is not born on Gor, but brought over fromEarth. "Tana has been missing her family lately, Master. She feels thatthey may be worried about what happened to her. That is all. If I havenot been pleasing, I would ask that this slave be whipped." I loweredmy head again.

Portous laughed heartily. "You have been very pleasing, Tana. You havehelped bring a great deal of coins to our tavern." He walked over to asmall desk, removing paper and quill and placed them on a small table."I have methods to allow information to be sent to your world. You maywrite your tale to your family and I will see that it gets delivered."

I looked up, tears in my eyes. "May a slave ask why, Master, that youwould do this for her?"

He smiled. "Consider it a reward." He gestured towards the chair."Begin now. You have 2 Ahn before the lottery is completed. You maywrite during free time, when you are not serving or dancing. Do not letthis interfere with your duties, slave."

I quickly stood up and sat on the chair. In all my time, no Master hasever allowed me to be seated this way. The cushion was soft and thematerial felt wonderful against my skin. He pushed the items closer tome and stepped out of the room.

"I will have Farvus come for you when it is time," he replied, as hewalked out of the room.

I picked up the quill and examined it. The story would have to be inEnglish, I thought. I dipped the quill in the ink, watching as itdripped back into the container. I placed it on the edge of the paperand began to write a letter. A letter that I never thought I would beable to do.

"Dear Mom and Dad,"

I put the quill down, shaking my head. What could I possibly say tothem? That I've been abducted by aliens from a planet in our solarsystem? That I'm now a slave girl at the mercy of men? They'll thinkI'm crazy or worse, not believe that it's actually from me.

I picked it up again and took a deep breath. Sort and sweet, I thought

"Dear Mom and Dad,

I want to tell you that I'm alive and well, but you won't be able tofind me. Things are very very complicated. I hope that this story willhelp to explain this. You have to believe that everything I say here is

true. I am safe and sound.

Just remember that I love you and miss you very much."



I took another deep breath.

"Love

Your Son, Harold"

Chapter Two

Thursday, The Twenty Third of June

Three Years Ago

My name is Harold McMaster. I'm 25 years old and work in a smallaccounting firm in Philadelphia. I'm not what you might call the bestlooking guy in the world, far from it. Short, with glasses and a smallpaunch from too much fast food and pizza, flat feet and ears thatpeople tell me are just slightly too big for my head.

My job is pretty boring. It's very busy from January through April, butafter that we're all fighting for whatever work we can get our handson. So I spent a lot of time surfing the net and playing computergames.

I don't have too many friends there. Everyone kind of keeps in theirgroups; the partners in their big offices, the juniors in their cubes,

the guys who talk about sports or the women who talk about shopping ortheir husbands or boyfriends. I didn't fit into any of thosecategories, so I just kept to myself. I ate lunch at my desk, listeningto the radio or reading an online magazine.

One of my favorite things is to cook. I spent many nights in the smallkitchen in my apartment, listening to music and making meals formyself.

That night, I had come home from another uneventful day at work. Istopped quickly at the market to pick up a few things; chicken,tomatoes, some spices and other stuff. I put the chicken into a skilletand began to brown it. The tablet had some music playing and I dancedin the kitchen as I worked.

I sang and danced, feeling slightly like one of those silly 1960's go-go dancers.

"HA!" I sang, holding the spoon up like a microphone. Spinning around,I saw the three men standing silently in my kitchen. I jumped, droppingthe spoon and moving against the counter near the sink.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?" I yelled.

One man spoke to another. I couldn't understand what he was saying.

Another man laughed, looking at me.

"What did he say?" I demanded. My voice was shaky. Each of these men



had to be six feet tall and built like a football player.

"He said that I was right about you being able to dance," he replied,laughing again.

I could smell the chicken burning on the skillet. I picked up the spoonand held it out, trying to defend myself.

"I...I said get out of here!" The third man walked over slowly. He woresunglasses but even behind them, I could see the command in his eyes. Ishook hard. I was very afraid. He easily grabbed the spoon, snapping itin half, then backhanding me across the face. I hit the floor andtasted the blood in my mouth. He reached up and turned off the stove. Icould hear the chicken sizzle and smelled the delicious scent from myposition on the floor.

"He seems a typical man of Earth, isn't he?" The third man continued,wiping his stained hand on one of my kitchen towels.

"Please don't hurt me," I said. "You can have whatever you want."

"What we want," the first man replied, slowly taking steps towards me."Is YOU."

"ME?" I exclaimed, my voice squeaking. "What...what do you want withme?"

"That will all be explained in time." The man replied. He saidsomething again in that language I didn't understand and the two mengrabbed me by each arm, holding me tight. I struggled in vain to freemyself. The two men laughed.

I could see a needle in the first man's hand.

"Throw him to the floor on his belly and tie his legs," he said, stillholding it. The two men, quickly, expertly, threw me to the floor of mykitchen and using some twine, tied my ankles together and then tied myarms behind my back, crossed at the wrists. There was no way for me tobreak free. The first man ripped my shirt sleeve and injected me withthe cool fluid.

"All will be explained to you in short time." He concluded. My bodyfelt heavy. I tried to fight to keep conscious, but it was useless. Thethree spoke in the unknown language as I felt myself being lifted andplaced into a large van. This was stronger than any anesthetic that Ihad ever had and in a few minutes, I was out cold.

Chapter Three

Monday, The Fifth of December

Two and a Half Years Ago

My eyes opened slowly. The light above my head showed bright enough

that I had to blink several times before I could see. My mouth was dry.I licked my lips and tried to moisten them. I was in a fog. Was it alla dream? I remember the three men in my kitchen. I tried to move my



wrists, they were stuck. I pulled harder and felt the cold metalagainst my skin. I blinked again, trying to clear my head. I lifted upas far as my neck would allow. I was naked. My ankles were bound thesame way as my wrists. No. It wasn't a dream.

"HELP!! HELP!! SOMEONE LET ME OUT OF HERE!!"

Silence.

"IS ANYONE OUT THERE?

ANYONE?? PLEASE!!!"

I struggled again against the chains. They wouldn't budge. I lay myhead back, defeated. How the hell did I get into this??

I stayed still for a few moments running theprevious....days...weeks...events in my mind. The three men...boundhand and foot...injected with a needle.

A moment later, I heard the door open. I wasn't able to see it from theangle where I was laying. I struggled to move, twisting and turning. Ifelt a small hand on my shoulder.

"Stay still, Mr. McMaster." She looked over me, her blond hair fallingbelow her shoulders. "You'll only hurt yourself." He voice stillsounded faint.

"Please...where am I? What are they going to do to me?"

She giggled. In any other circumstance, it would sound sexy.

"I don't have any information, but the doctor will be right in." Shetapped my shoulder again. "Sit tight." She replied, giggling again ather own joke.

"Let me out. Please. I don't have much, but you're all welcome to it. Iwon't tell anyone what happened. Please, Miss." I continued. I knew shecould hear the desperation in my voice.

Before she could answer, the door opened again and I could hearfootsteps coming towards me. The girl moved to the side and a largebald head entered my view. The man looked down at me, adjusted hisglasses and backed away.

"Good, you're awake," he replied. There was a slight accent in hisvoice but I couldn't place it. European maybe, with a hint of AmericanSouth?

He moved down and came into my view. I suddenly remembered the girl andbeing naked. I blushed horribly. The doctor laughed.

"Miss Criswell, would you please prepare the equipment?" He said. Shenodded and walked out of my view towards a number of pieces ofmachinery against the far wall.

"Doctor...please....please, let me go," I whined. I could feel my body

shaking. I wanted him to see how desperate I was. I felt like I wasgoing to cry.



"Now, now, Harold. You have nothing to worry about," he replied,adjusting his glasses again. "This is a relatively painlessprocedure....although" he paused. "I've never tried it on a manbefore." He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well. Live and learn, Isuppose." He began to hum as he helped the nurse set up the equipment.

The door opened again and another figure entered the room. I couldn't

see who it was but I felt a shiver run up my spine as he came close. Heleaned in and whispered in my ear.

"You danced divinely," he whispered, laughing. I couldn't help thetears flowing from my eyes. It was him. One of the men from myapartment.

"Let me out. Please...I won't tell anyone what you're doing," Iexclaimed.

He moved into my view. He wore the same black suit and sunglasses thathe wore that same night.

"And what, pre-tell, are we doing?" he replied. I was silent. I didn'tknow. In fact, I had no idea. He noticed my expression and laughed."That's what I thought."

I lay there quietly, watching him move. The nurse and doctor werefinishing setting up the equipment. A large machine was pushed next tomy head I felt like something was being attached to me.

"Can you tell me where I am, please. How long have I been here?" Iasked.

The doctor looked at me, absently. "I have no idea. I only come in at

the end of the procedure." He shrugged his shoulders again and wentback to his machines.

"As for where you are," the man from my apartment continued, "that isnot important. But if you must know, today is December 8th."

I lay back. It was summer when I arrived.

"You've been here for about....6 months," he finished. My eyes openedwide.

"Six...Six MONTHS??" I yelled.

He nodded, laughing again. The nurse walked over. She had a large bitin her hand. It seemed like something that electrotherapy patientswould put in their mouth..or at least, movies that I'd seen wherepeople got shock therapy.

"Open your mouth, please," the nurse said. I looked at her desperately.The man walked over quickly and slapped me.

"Must an order be repeated?" he yelled. It took me by surprise and Iopened my mouth quickly to avoid another strike. She placed a bit in mymouth and told me to bite down. The man leaned over to within a fewinches of my face.

"This is the first lesson that you must learn, Kajira," he saidhissing.



Kajira? What the hell is that? Sounds like some kind of forest animal.

"And if you remove that before we tell you, you will be punishedagain." He walked back a bit, taking a chair and sitting down."Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajira...it could get you whipped." Hefinished. "But, we do owe you some kind of explanation. Have you ever

heard of a place called Gor?"

I shook my head. I had never heard of any place like that, but I'm anaccountant not a master of geography

"It is a planet in the same orbit as this one on the other side of thesun. It's a very different society. Men are warriors...strong andfearless. Women are slaves." He looked at the nurse, who blushedharshly. The man smiled. "Men are dominant and women are submissive. Itis a wondrous place to be a man." He stood up and walked over to thenurse, touching her neck.

"You would look exquisite in a collar, girl," he said to her. Sheblushed again and the doctor cleared his throat. The man turned back tohim, smiled and went to sit back down.

"We are going to turn you into a slave. A FEMALE slave," he finished.My eyes opened wide. I started to protest but remembered the slapacross the face and thought better of it. "THAT is all you need toknow, Kajira," he said.

The doctor walked back over into my line of sight. He brushed was wasleft of his hair with is hand, fixed his glasses yet again and lookedto me.

I'm sure I was crying.

"Well, um, since you've been here we've had you under heavy sedationand been pumping you full of female hormones. In order for this machineto do its job, there has to be as little resistance with your bodychemistry as possible. We've removed your testicles to block the flowof testosterone in your system. In fact, you have the beginnings ofsome very lovely breasts." He laughed nervously.

I thought for sure I was going to throw up.

"This machine behind you will be attached to a chip that we implantedin your skull a few weeks ago. It contains tiny nanobots that will helpto change your appearance. No one will ever know that you were oncemale. It, uh, also comes with a 'Plan B'." he stated rather matter offactly.

I looked at him. Plan B, I thought. He must have sensed the confusionin my eyes.

He laughed, tapping me on the shoulder. "No need for you to worry aboutthat. It's only used as a last resort." He cleared his throat again,fixing his glasses one more time. "As I said, we've done this procedurea few times on women. It's easy to use their chemistry to adjust theirphysical appearance. We've never done it to change someone's gender,

but...we'll see how things go."

The nurse flipped a few switches and I heard the machine buzz and hum.



"I wanted you to be awake," the man from my apartment said, "so thatyou can see exactly what is going to happen to you."

The doctor walked to my head again. I felt him adjusting something.

"All right, Miss Criswell," he said.

Suddenly the room began to spin. All I could see for the first momentswere bright lights and heard a whirring sound in my ears. I screamedbut my sounds were muffled by the bit in my mouth. The shocks quicklyran through my arms and torso, down my legs and even between them. Istiffened in my restraints, feeling the metal ripping into my skin. Iclosed my eyes for a few moments, trying to keep from passing out.

"Things should clear in a moment," I heard the doctor yell over themachine. As he said, a moment later the lights stopped and the hum ofthe machine died down. I started to breathe easier. I looked down at mybody. There were no changes. I smiled through the bit. Maybe the change

didn't work. Maybe they'll let me out and I can go home.

"Phase two, Miss Criswell," the doctor said. I heard another switchbeing flipped and the hum became louder. A dull pain, like when yourfoot falls asleep, flowed through my body. The tingling becameconcentrated in various parts of my body. I looked down to my chest. Itfelt itchy. The small breasts, MY small breasts, began to grow...starting with the nipples, getting larger and harder, then the breastsfrom there grew out like a plant would. More like cantaloupes. No, likewatermelons. I could feel the weight of them on my body, pressing medown. I looked at my arms, they were becoming thinner and longer. Myfingers were becoming thinner as well and the nails grew quickly outfrom my fingertips. I couldn't see my legs but could feel the same

thing happening to them; thinner, longer. I closed my eyes. I didn'twant to know what was happening between my legs. My tiny cock tingledand pulsed. I could feel it shrinking. The area between my legs tingledmore. I could tell it was gone; I didn't even have to look. The lastplace was my head, neck and face. It felt like someone was stickingsmall pins into my entire head. I squinted in and tried to see what washappening. I closed my eyes again. I started to cry. I prayed that thiswould be over quickly.

The machine whirred down. It seemed like an eternity.

"Phase three, Miss Criswell," the doctor said. I sighed heavily. Myeyes filled with tears. How much longer could this go on?

"This won't be quite as bad, um, pain wise," the doctor said. "Whatwe're doing is filling your head with information that you'll need whenyou get to...um, where you're going." He laughed nervously again as thenurse pulled the last lever. My mind immediately thought of the oldFrankenstein movies. 'Pull the last lever...No, not the lastlever...pull it I tell you!!'

I felt my mind being flooded; pictures, words, all flowing uninhibitedinto my brain. I tried to comprehend it all. As quickly as I processedit, something else took its place. Eventually, I leaned back and let itall flow in. It was amazing. There was so much information, so many

things to learn. I felt myself smiling.

"I think we're finished, sir," the doctor stated. A moment later, I



heard some switches flip and the machine began to whir down. Slowly,the noise became quieter and the tingling in my head subsided. Ibreathed heavily. I became aware again of the bit sticking out of mymouth.

"Open your mouth again, please," the nurse said. I did as she asked andshe took the bit out of my mouth. I opened and closed my jaw, loosening

it up. I looked up. She was smiling at me. Her hand brushed against mysoft hair. I didn't notice how long they made it. "You look beautiful,"she said. I smiled back at her. She began to undo the cuffs around mywrists and ankles.

"Now, you're going to be very weak and groggy for a while. And yourcenter of balance will be a bit off. So let us help you up and take youto your room to rest, ok?" I nodded.

I opened my mouth to try to speak, but the doctor stopped me.

"Your vocal chords are still adjusting," he said. The doctor and the

man from my apartment put their arms out and helped me off the table. Inoticed how large my breasts actually were. It seemed that thewatermelon comparison was a bit exaggerated, but they were definitelylarge C cups. I slid down from the table to the floor, realizing thatit was a farther drop than I expected. I tumbled forward but the two ofthem caught me. I reached up to brush my long, red hair out from myface. I could tell it was wavy and very soft. I took small steps,trying to keep my balance. It took me a good 20 feet before I couldwalk without having to completely hang on to them. As we walked, Inoticed that I was being stared at. I couldn't see much beyond my largebreasts, but I'm sure that a naked woman in a place like this wassomething they don't see very often.

The doctor opened the door and the man helped me to the bed. The roomwas bare except for the bed. I flopped down, feeling my breasts jiggleas I hit the bed.

"You will rest, Kajira," the man said, "And we will begin your trainingsoon. Is that clear?" The way he spoke these words were different thanhow he spoke before. It seemed foreign to me, yet I was able tocompletely understand it.

"Did you understand that?" the man asked. I nodded slowly, still unableto speak. "Good. The chip gave you a working knowledge of the Goreanlanguage. Consider yourself lucky, Kajira. Most slaves have to learn itquickly when they arrive or be beaten." He laughed. I shuddered again.He turned and left the room.

"Uh, rest up," the doctor said, watching our exchange. I don't think heunderstood what was said earlier. "We'll check on you in a day or so."

The doctor left and I looked around the room. It was empty except forthe bed, a small dresser and a full length mirror. I leaned up. Mybreasts felt heavier than I remembered. I felt foggy from themedication, but managed to slide out of the bed. I also realized that Iwas shorter than I was before. I turned to the large mirror against thewall and stared at the body looking back at me. She was stunning...Longred hair flowing in waves down her chest and back, huge firm breasts

and a voluptuous body. I stepped slowly towards the mirror. The realityof my situation finally hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a woman...asexy, vibrant looking woman..one that I would have killed to be with.



My hand went to her...MY hair. I touched it and the girl in the mirrordid the same thing. It was soft and shined, the small amount of lightin the room reflecting off it. My eyes were clear and the brightestgreen that I had ever seen. Her pert nose and sensous lips struck myattention next. I moved my lips in various expression and, of course,she did the same. I could imagine myself, still as a man, lying on topof her watching as she made these cute little movements of her lips

begging me to take her...harder and faster.

"Ohhhhh...." I said. I watched the face of the girl in the mirror asshe said it, my brain struggling to comprehend it. Her voice was likesilk....

"Oh, Harold.....you make me sooooooo hot...mmmmmm." I felt my kneesbuckle at those words, almost falling to the floor. I pouted a few moretimes, moaning again, breathing heavy at the reflection staring back atme. I placed my finger on my lips, making a 'shhhh' pose. The effectwas incredible.

My small hands went down from my lips, down my body. I couldn't believethat this was MY body now. Thoughts raced...different emotions flowedthrough me.

'This can't be me...but....look at her. So sexy...' I thought

'No...focus! You're a woman now.'

'But...look at her. She's...I'M amazing!'

I touched my breasts with both hands...my fingertips sliding around theoutside of my nipple then along the sides and underside. I gripped themfirmly, feeling their weight. I moaned again. My hands pushed and

squeezed on them, each move adding to my excitement. The skin wassmooth and soft as well as I moved the hands down my stomach to my.....

"Well, enjoying yourself?"

I turned around quickly. The man from my apartment was standing in thesmall hallway, watching me. I tried desperately, and in vain, to covermy naked body with my small hands.

He walked over and roughly pulled my hands away from my body, holdingthem.

"Modesty is not permitted to slave girls" he said in Gorean. Ishuddered again. I contemplated struggling against him in an attempt tofree myself, but the grip on my arm was like a vice. There was no way Icould get free. He smiled, looking at us both in the mirror. He touchedmy neck softly with his fingertips. "You will look exquisite in yourcollar, slave."

The doctor came into the room quickly followed by his nurse.

"Leave her," he said. "She just finished the procedure and needs torest." The man stared at the doctor, his eyes red with rage. A momentlater, he turned back and released my arm.

"You will not touch your body, Kajira," he whispered in my ear, inEnglish this time. "That pleasure will belong to your Master."



leaped out bed, almost falling on the floor. I was naked. I had notbeen allowed any clothes since I arrived here. "It is time you beganyour training!"

For the past two months, I had been poked and prodded by doctors andnurses to make sure that all the changes took hold and that I washealthy. They took blood and gave me various tests. It was exhausting.

I hadn't seen the man from my apartment in all that time. I assumedthat he forgot about me, obviously I was wrong.

"I must protest," the doctor said. The man turned to him, eyes glaringagain. He pulled a dagger from his belt.

"We can settle this with steel, doctor," he replied, holding the knifeout. The doctor stood, frozen. His nurse ran in and screamed.

"Shut the door!" he yelled to the nurse, She quickly turned and slammedthe door.

He turned his attention back to the doctor. "Your usefulness is ended.Weak and pathetic are the men of your planet. You can stay and learn oryou can leave...." He turned back to me. I shook standing there. Thepower in his voice and presence was overwhelming.

"Kneel." He commanded in Gorean. I slowly sank to my knees. The floorfelt cold on my legs.

"Your first lesson, girl." He took a large metal collar out of his bag.I could see the metal glistening against the morning sun. "Do you seethis?" I nodded. "This is your collar." He turned it. The lightcontinued to reflect off of it. I could see some writing on it, but wasunable to see if from the distance. "One of its purposes is to express

your slavery upon you."

I looked up at him, my head tilted.

"Slavery?" I asked, slowly enunciating each syllable.

He laughed, throwing his head back. His entire body shook.

"Of course. Do you think we did this for fun?" he replied. He leaneddown, holding the collar in his hands. "Lift up your chin, girl."

I shook a bit. I wanted to stand up and run. Slavery. The wordcontinued to rattle around in my head.

I slowly lifted my head. I watched as his hands took the collar aroundmy neck. I felt the cold metal against my throat and heard the click ofthe lock. He let go and the weight pressed against the base of my neck.Tears welled up in my eyes and I began to cry. He smiled.

"You are a slave girl," he said, matter of factly. I knelt there indisbelief. "La Kajira. Say it."

"La Kajira," I repeated.

"Remember that. It may save your life," he said.

I hung my head. I had been collared and been made a slave. It doesn'tseem possible. I tried to remind myself that I was Harold McMaster, an



accountant from Philadelphia, not a small, blond slave girl kneeling ona cold floor in front of a man who was now my Master. There must besome way out, some means of escape. I reached up and touched the coolmetal of the collar. I ran my fingers across the front, feeling theletters that had been etched on to it.

"I...I can't do this!" I screamed in English, forgetting for a moment

how girly my voice sounded. "You have to let me go." I slid my fingerbetween my neck and the collar pulling furiously. "Please....Please letme go."

His smile changed to anger and I felt the back of his hand hit me. Iwas knocked to the floor, my head hitting the tiles. There was no timeto react. He grabbed my hair, pulling me back to my knees. My handsreached for his wrists, holding them tightly as he moved my body.

He moved his face close to mine, speaking in Gorean again. "You willdo...exactly...what I tell you to. Is that clear?"

I tasted the blood in my mouth from his slap.

"Yes...yes..." I screamed again.

"Yes....MASTER," he corrected. I paused. Another strike hit my face.The pain was excruciating.

"Yes...Master." I said. I could taste more blood in my mouth and feltit drip on my body as I spoke. He let go of my hair and I fell to myhands and knees.

He stood over me, his hands across his chest.

"I will be lenient on you because you are a new slave. For a remarklike that, you could be whipped." He walked over to the closet andopened a small duffel bag. From it, he pulled out a whip. I slidbackwards a few inches. He walked towards me and sat in a chair,playing with it, uncoiling the strands.

"This is a gorean slave whip," he said, matter of factly again. "As youcan see, it has five strands." He cracked it in the air in front ofhim. I jumped. "It is very effective in training slaves." He pulled outthe strands as someone would unpin a girl's hair from a bun. I staredat it.

"It is said that it is good for a slave to feel the whip." He stood up."On your hands and knees again, slave."

I watched him walk over to me. I knelt there, frozen.

"Must an order be repeated, girl?" he asked, cracking the whip over myhead. I screamed and quickly got on my hands and knees.

I shook as I saw his feet walking around my body. The coils of the whipwere being draped across my body. I could feel how thick they were. Ilooked up for a moment, he growled.

"Head down, slave," he yelled. I quickly put my head down. He continued

to tease me with the whip. I wasn't sure if I could hold this positionmuch longer. The anticipation of the stroke was driving me crazy.



"You are," he finished. "Kneel...Nadu," he said. I pulled myself up tomy knees and looked up at him. He grabbed the whip again and sat backon the chair.

"No," he said. "Back on your heels. Knees wide."

I did as I was told.

"Wider, slut," he yelled. I blushed and forced my knees open wider."Place your hands on your thighs, palms up. Straighten your back."

I tried to do as he commanded. My body didn't want to move in thatposition. He stood up.

"I said Straighten your back, girl." He pressed the whip handle into myspine. I yelped quietly. "Belly in...breasts out. Come on, girl!" heyelled, swatting my stomach and my breasts with the whip handle again.I struggled to hold the position. My body was aching. "Lastly, head

down in deference and submission." I lowered my head. I could feel thecollar against my chin. It quickly reminded me of what I was.

He stepped back and sat down again. "Eh...better," he said. "THIS isthe position that I want you in when I enter a room. It is the positionof the Pleasure Slave."

My eyes opened wide. I looked up, but noticed him staring back at me. Ilooked back down."

"Pleasure slave, Master?" I asked. He cracked the whip again.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he asked.

"No, Master."

"Then you will keep quiet," he finished. "A slave must ask to speak."

I knelt there quietly again. I could sense that he was smiling.

"Can I speak, Master?"

"No. The correct statement is 'May a slave speak'"

I took a deep breath. "May a slave speak, Master?"

"Yes."

"Pleasure slave, Master?" I repeated.

"Yes, that is what you are. A slave who will be used to give pleasureto men," he replied.

"I....I...." I stuttered again.

"There is nothing to say, girl. That is why you were changed. That iswhy you look.." He paused, licking his lips. "...the way that you do.Men will pay a great deal for a trained pleasure slave. I looked up

cautiously. The tears flowed from my eyes again.

Now..stand and then kneel again, he said. I stood up slowly and knelt



as he commanded. I could tell that he was pleased.

You will practice that later this evening, he said, standing up. Youshall not move until commanded to do so. He left the room for amoment. I stayed where I was but noticed the large mirror against thewall again. I turned my head slightly so that I could see myreflection. It was amazing. My long red hair flowed across my breasts

and my body looked incredible. I could see why men wanted women tokneel before them this way.

My thoughts were broken by the door opening again. I quickly put myhead down, in deference as he had said. A small bowl was placed beforeme. It looked like oatmeal with pieces of meat in it.

Eat, he said. I reached down to pick the bowl up.

Not like that, he said. I stopped. He picked it up and placed it onhis lap. Come over here, girl. Stay in position. I moved a bit closerto him. Lift your head and open your mouth. I did as he commanded. I

watched as he picked up a piece of meat and shoved it into my mouth. Ithought I was going to choke. Chew, he said. I chewed it up andswallowed. He laughed, stirring the contents. Slowly, he picked upanother piece of meat and shoved it into my mouth. The meat was tasty,sort of like chicken. I chewed it and swallowed again.

Keep your mouth open between feedings, he said. I knelt there,looking at him, mouth open like a fish. Another piece was shoved in mymouth.

This is called Slave Gruel, he said. Between this and exercise,your body will become much more curvy. I nodded, still chewing thepiece of meat. Do you wish water?

I swallowed. Please, Master. He nodded and picked up a large pouch.Head back. I tilted my head back and he poured water into my mouth. Idrank as best I could but choked on a bit of it. He laughed again.

Very good, Kajira, he said. The bowl was placed back on the floor.You will continue eating but you will not use your hands. Is thatclear?

I coughed, trying to clear the end of the water out of it. Yes,Master, I said. He nodded and sat back in the chair. I looked at theSlave Gruel. Kneeling down farther, I began to eat it like a dog wouldtaking large bites of the gruel and swallowing it. I could feel itgetting on my face and in my hair. Master laughed a few times watchingme eat. I felt humiliated.

This is done by Masters to enforce the centrality of your position,girl, he said as I ate. It is to teach you....exactly....what youare. Do you know what you are?

I nodded again. Tell me, he said.

I lifted my head up, my face covered in gruel. La Kajira, Master, Isaid, then went back to finish eating. When the food was nearly gone,he dropped a piece of yellow bread into the bowl.

You may use your fingers with the bread to get the remaining food fromthe bowl.



Thank you, Master. I said. I knelt back up. This time, my knees wereslightly more together, which made it easier to steady the bowl. I tookthe small piece of bread between my shaking fingers and sopped up theremaining food. The bread was crunchy and tasted very good. When I hadfinished the bread, he took the bowl away from me, putting it on thetable. I knelt back again as I was, waiting for his command. He wiped

my face with the back of my hair.

Dance, he commanded.

I knelt there, nervously. Master?

That day...in your apartment...while you were cooking....you danced.Dance for me, Kajira, he replied.

I thought back. That day in the apartment, Harold danced. There is nomusic, Master, I replied.

He jumped up, grabbing the whip again.DANCE!

he yelled.

I stood up. My mind raced back to that day, eight months ago. I was socarefree back then. The worst thing I had to worry about was that Iforgot to record my favorite television program. I continued to thinkback to my old life, Harolds life. What song was on that night? Ibegan to hum a song. My body moved to the music, slowly. I began byclosing my eyes..letting the feel of the song come to me. Then, handsroamed over my breasts, touching my face and rising over my head. Iclasped my fingers together and moved my hips and waist. I could hearthe melody in my head as I danced. I hummed louder and I unclasped myhands and threw them out to the side. My legs moved very little, Imostly used my body to feel the music. I felt myself moving faster, the

pace quickening as I danced. My breathing increased and I could feelmyself sweating. I spun a few times and almost screamed. I felt that Iwas lost in the song..there was nothing else but me and the music. Ispun a few more times, feeling my hair waving in the spin. Finally, Ifell to my knees, exhausted, my head against the floor. The music wasbroken by the sound of clapping...slow, steady clapping.

Well done, he said. I opened my eyes and looked at him still sittingin the chair. You have some talent, but we will work to improve that.

I blushed, incredibly embarrassed. He stood up.

Continue practicing. We will improve your skills. He walked out andclosed the door behind him. I watched as he left, still breathingheavily. Was that me? Did I do that? I never thought I could move thatway.

I reached back and was brought back to reality by the gruel in my hairand the sweat on my body. I walked into the bathroom and started theshower. I had been excited by my body before, but those times werevisual...the sexy, voluptuous girl staring back at me in the mirroreach morning and evening or seeing her face in the small mirror as Ibrushed my teeth. This was different. This time, the excitement wasbrought about by her movements...MY movements. I could tell that sheexcited Master and that the dance excited me at the same time. It was

more of a feeling...it was amazing. The steam rose from the shower andI stepped inside. I cleared my mind and let the water flow over me. Igrabbed my hair, which had become rather long, and pulled the food out



of it. I washed my body, touching my nipples which had become veryerect and jumping slightly at how they felt. I touched the rest of mybody..feeling my skin tingle again as my dainty fingers trailed overit. I had to stop myself. Master said I would be whipped if I touchmyself. I felt unable to control myself. My hands moved slowly down mystomach, touching just above my lips. I hesitated. I breathed deeply.My hands shook. My fingernail was right there...I knew....I must....

Suddenly, I felt my hands pulled roughly behind me and tied together bythe wrists. As I protested, a large wadding was thrust into my mouthand tied tightly from behind. The water of the shower was turned offand I was pushed to my knees. I struggled weakly, but the person wasmuch stronger than I. A large bag was placed over my head and tiedtightly around my neck.

MMMMPPPPHHH!!!

I felt myself being lifted up and thrown over someones shoulder, stilldripping wet. I kicked my legs hard, but was rewarded with a swift slap

on the ass.

Stay still, Kajira, a voice said. I immediately obeyed. The mancarried me for a bit and I felt myself thrown roughly on to a hardsurface. A heavy restraint was placed over my neck and stomach, which Ithought to be chains and I heard small clicks from just by my head. Adoor slammed and I heard an engine start. The vehicle pulled forwardand I struggled vainly against the chains holding me down. As we pickedup speed, I began to cry, not knowing what was going to happen next.

Chapter Five

Friday, The Tenth of February

Two Years and Four Months Ago

The ride had seemed long. I felt the car twist and turn around longroads and bumpy highways. It felt like forever since the night in thehospital room. The wadding in my mouth became wet and slimy as Idrooled all over my breasts. My head knocked against the roof of thetrunk and I screamed a few times as I was thrown around.

It also seemed like forever since Id eaten. Once during the trip, thecar stopped and I heard the engine being turned off. The trunk openedand I could immediately feel the change in temperature as the cold windblew against my naked body. I felt myself being taken out of the trunkand thrown against the snowy ground.

Nadu, Kajira, the voice said. I immediately knelt and the bag wastaken off my head. I shook my hair, knotted and ragged from being stuckin the bag, trying to get the tangles out. I blinked to adjust to thescenery when I saw a blindfold being placed on my from behind.

Do not move or scream or you will be whipped, the voice continued.Besides, theres no one around to hear you anyway. He laughed and

placed the blindfold over my eyes. I knew better than to struggle.These men, Im sure, were like my Master in the hospital; not ones tobe trifled with. I did quickly notice the license plate of the car



before they put the blindfold on. I would have to remember that.

They removed the gag and I spit and coughed trying to get the taste andsmall pieces of wadding out of my mouth. A moment later, I smelledmeat. Freshly barbequed. I sniffed the air, much like a dog would untilI found the source of the food.

Open your mouth.

I did so and pieces of meat were thrust into it. I chewed slowly,savoring the tastes and flavors. I felt a hand in my hair and my headpulled back.

Ow! I screamed.

Chew faster, he growled. I did as he commanded, chewing the meatquickly and swallowing almost whole pieces as he kept shoving them inmy mouth. I nearly choked from the large pieces. I then felt somethingshoved at my lips.

Drink, he commanded. The water poured down my throat quickly and Igulped and swallowed as quickly as I could again. When they weresatisfied the wadding was quickly shoved back in my mouth and the hoodplaced back on my head. I felt myself being lifted back up and droppedhard back into the trunk. I heard the lid slam and I screamed againthrough my gag. The door opened and was closed and the engine startedagain. I felt the bumps hard as we started moving again, then it becamesmooth as we hit the highway.

My mind began to wander again. We had been driving for what seemed likedays. The car almost never stopped and when it did, it was only for ashort time. I heard muffled voices now and then and tried to yell out

or kick the side, but I was well tied.

I fell asleep for short periods of time. They were not restful orpeaceful sleeps. My mind would race, flooding with events of the lastfew months:

We are going to turn you into a slave. A FEMALE slave.

This is your collar. One of its purposes is to express your slaveryupon you.

You are a slave girl. La Kajira. Say it. La Kajira Remember that.It may save your life.

One kept creeping back into my thoughts. It scared me.

It, uh, also comes with a Plan B. No need for you to worry aboutthat. Its only used as a last resort.

I cried again. I hoped that I never had to worry about Plan B.

The car finally stopped and the engine turned off. I could hear thedoors open and the trunk popped. There was no wind this time as thestrong hands lifted me out of the car and over their shoulder. Ibounced on his shoulder as he walked and I was finally deposited on a

hard dirt floor.

That will be all for now, a voice said. I recognized it as my Master.



Nadu, Kajira.

I knelt quickly and heard footsteps on the dirt and felt the sack beinguntied from my head. It was removed and I squinted a little, adjustingto the light in the room. The blindfold was then removed and he kneltdown in front of me.

The rest of your training will be more in accordance with Goreanways, he said. I looked around the room. It was a dirt floor withsmall thatched walls, like something you would see from peasants in themiddle ages. There was a couch along the far wall and a cage along theside wall.

We will start by putting you through slave paces, he said. I lookedat him curiously.

What are slave paces? I asked. He growled. Master, I finished.

He smiled. Slave paces are movements, attitudes, positions and such

designed to display a slave. Your new Master may require them so thathe may assess you. We will work slowly, as you are an untrained slave.But your Master will expect nothing less than perfection so you willlearn these very quickly. Is that clear?

Yes, Master.

Stand. Turn away from me. Place your hands behind your back to beready for slave bracelets. I did as he commanded. Lift your head,turn it to the left. Again, I did as he commanded. This is Lesha, hefinished.

Yes, Master, I replied.

Now, kneel down. back on your heel. back straight. hands on thighs.He reached down, turning my wrists up. Keep your head up. knees wide.I felt so vulnerable. I had done this position before, but it had beensloppy and untrained. In Masters hands, I felt like I was being moldeda bit more. My body tingled as he touched me. This is Nadu, as youwell know. The position of the pleasure slave. Memorize this one well,he finished.

Sula! On your back, legs open. Hands at your sides, palms up, hebarked. I tried to do as he commanded, but he groaned. Stupid slave.He kicked my legs farther apart, almost as far as they would go. THISis how I want it, he said. Do not make me get out the whip.

No Master. Please, I pleaded. I had seen the whip on his hipconstantly since I had been brought to that hospital so long ago. I hadnot yet felt it, but I was sure that I didnt want to.

Stand. I stood up. Do it again. Quickly! I dropped to my back witha thunk, spreading my legs, hands against my body, palms up. I couldsee him shaking his head.

Not very delicate. But since you are training, I can overlook that,he said. Next. Roll over on your belly. Cross your wrists behind you.Cross your ankles as well. He watched as I completed the pace as he

commanded. This is the position most used for binding slaves. It isBara. Do you think you understand the paces, girl?



I...I believe so, Master. I stuttered. It wasnt a lot, but I neededto get it right.

We shall see, he replied. As I said, we will start slowly. He puthis hand at his side, touching the whip that he always carried.

Lesha! he barked. I stood up and turned away from him, hands behind

me, head turned slightly to the left and chin up.

Sula! he barked again. I fell to my stomach and paused. The whip cameoff his belt and he unwound it. I...I dont remember, Master. Hecracked it over my head. The sound made me put my hands behind my head,covering my ears. On your back, legs open. Hands at your sides, palmsup! I did as he commanded, quickly. The cracked the whip over my headagain. I trust, stupid girl, that I wont have to show you thisagain.

No. No Master. I promise. My voice shaked and my hands, sitting nextto my body, trembled. I rolled over to my back and tried to remember

the position.

He sighed. It is time for bed, girl, he continued. He pointed at thecage in the far corner of the room. Over there. You will crawl to yourcage.

Cage? I will be sleeping in a...cage? I asked. He stared at me,annoyed and stroked the whip slowly.

Yes. A cage. All animals sleep in cages.

But, I am not an animal. I am a person, I replied.

The sting from the lash sent waves of pain down my entire body. It wasas if I was on fire. The pain radiated from my back, out to my arms andlegs. I couldnt believe how much it hurt. The second lash came downjust as quickly and I screamed....a womans scream. That made merealize again what I was. I wasnt Harold McMaster from Philadelphia; Iwas some unnamed slave girl being whipped by a harsh Master. Anyresistance that I had left my body and I fell face down on the dirtfloor. Another lash fell on my back and I opened my mouth, but no soundcame out. I was paralyzed with pain and fear. My eyes welled up withtears and when he stopped, I could hear myself sobbing.

Crawl to your cage, he said again, slowly. I lifted my sobbing bodyup, moving slowly towards the cage. I could hear him following me, hisboots scuffing against the dirt floor. When I reached the door, he tookout a key and unlocked it, then opened it. I continued moving insideand he slammed the door behind me.

I will give you exactly 15 Ehn to get used to your surroundings beforeextinguishing the light. Make sure that you learn it well. He turnedand walked back towards the front of the room.

I sniffed, wiping the last of the tears from my eyes with my hand.Stupid, foolish boy I said to myself in English, not realizing thewords I was using. What in the hell made me think that I could arguewith him?

I looked around. The cage was small. One could only enter it on theirhands and knees, head down. I supposed this was just another part of my



submission to my Master. There was a small bit of straw in the cornerfor sleeping, the rest was dirt. I was unable to stand up in the cell,I could get to my knees but no higher. There was another small bowl inthe other corner, I assumed for food and water and a small bucketfor....well, I didnt want to think about that right now. I crawledover to the bit of straw. It was cold and a bit damp. There were noblanket in the cage and I didnt dare ask Master for any. I curled up

in a fetal position and lay down.

Times up. Sleep well, little slave girl. We begin early in themorning, he said, walking around the room and blowing out the smallcandles.

The lights went out and the room became very very dark. I lay shiveringin the hay, shaking. I wasnt sure if the shaking was because I wascold or frightened. The whip marks, still fresh on my back, also mademe shudder. I curled up in a fetal position and cried myself to sleep.

Chapter Six

Wednesday, The Twenty Third of May

Two Years and One Month Ago

Wake up, you miserable slave! Master yelled. He banged on the barswith the whip that he always carried on his belt. I jumped up, stillnaked, feeling my breasts bounce as I crawled to the door of the cage.Its something, even after all these months, that I havent gotten usedto.

What is the duty of a slave girl? Master yelled.

Absolute obedience, Master.

What are you?

A slave gir.

What is your duty?

Absolute obedience, Master.

He smiled, then opened the cage door. This was our routine everymorning. In the darkness, Master would pound on the cage door, have mego through my paces and then let me out.

Ka-la-na to the third ring, girl. Quickly! he yelled.

I quickly ran to the small bar that Master had put in the corner. Overthese past few months, he has taught me to serve wine and otherbeverages to him as a proper slave girl. I took the wine and poured itslowly, nervously, into the goblet up to the third ring. I walked backto him and knelt before him, holding out the goblet.

Your wine, Master. This slave hopes that it quenches your thirst, Isaid.



Again, he said.

I held up the wine again, pressing the glass to my lips.

Here is your drink, Master, I said. I beg to serve you further inany way I may.

Again, he said.

For your pleasure, I bring you paga and a slave.

Again, he said.

I pressed the goblet to my belly and then to my lips and held it up tohim again. It took me a while to do this without bumping the glassagainst my breasts.

This girl tenders drink humbly to Master, I said, nervously. Shehopes Master will later find her suitable to give him pleasure.

Finally he took the goblet from my hands and drank it.

Dance, He yelled.

I stood up, slowly. I hated the dance. It was embarrassing, demeaning.He made my body...this female body move in ways that were foreign. Ilifted my hands above my head, placing the backs of my hands together.Master had taught me a few positions; how to stand, where to put myhands and feet, when to rise to my feet and when to stay on my kneesdepending on the dance I was doing. I decided to do the whip dance.Master had seemed to enjoy that one the best. I moved my body acrossthe dirt floor as if I was about to be whipped. My hands turned so that

the palms were pressed together, then moved down before my face andrested at the end of my nipples. I could feel them harden as I brushedagainst them. They rested there a few moments as my hips swayed backand forth, as if to avoid the strike of the lash. I threw my arms outand spun my body wildly, my hair flowed and my breasts bounced.Eventually, I fell to my hands and knees; laying there, breathingheavily and my hair covered in sweat. I looked up. Master was smiling,his hand on the handle of the whip. He removed it and swung towards me,the last wrapping around my throat and on my collar. I reached up totouch it and quickly moved my hands to my collar instead. I had beenbeaten last time I laid my hands on Masters whip. He pulled me towardshim, I vainly struggled as part of the dance and reached him, droppingto the ground and kissing his sandals.

Master smiled. Your dance was....acceptable, he said.

Thank you, Master, I replied, kissing his sandals again. He removedthe whip from my neck.

To my lips, he said. I quickly stood up and kissed his lips. Deepdown, I hated this as well. I was still a man. Still Harold McMaster.No matter what they do to me, I must always remember that.

You are ready, he said. In 6 hours, there will be a Voyage ofAcquisition to the Planet Gor. And you will be on it. He touched my

hair softly. I shuddered. There is one more thing that you need tolearn before you can go, he continued.



Master? I asked. He attached the leash to my collar and led me overto the small couch. He hooked the chain to a ring connected to it andthen slipped a bracelet on my ankle. This was also attached to anotherpost in the floor.

Master? I asked again. He remained silent as he stood up again. Thenhe removed his shirt.

Lay down. Do not make it necessary for me to chain you any further,he said. My eyes must have been the size of saucers. His body was welltoned, he had huge forearms and muscles all over his chest. I lay downas he commanded.

You need to learn how to pleasure a man, he said. I started to dartup but his hand was on my chest, pushing me down.

Master, please. No.

I said, Lay down. Must an order be repeated? he replied. I shook my

head and lay back down. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Icant do this. Im a man. Im not a woman. I cant please men!

No matter what I do, you may not yield unless I allow it. You arewhite silk, a virgin. Remember that. It could also save your life,he continued. I lay quietly, shaking, every impulse screaming to standand run.

I felt his hands touch my body, softly and tenderly. He traced behindmy ears and down my neck. Goosebumps rose on my body. Continuing, hetraced down across my shoulders; his hands moving up and over themseveral times. His touch made my skin tingle and I know I moanedsoftly. He moved over to my left breast, tracing the underside and

around its shape. He moved from one to the other, like a maestroplaying an instrument, touched and teased them. I could feel my nipplesharden again and a wetness between my legs. Master used his other handand touched my wetness. I gasped and spread my legs wider for him,wanting and needing him to use me. I could see him lift his hand up,rubbing his fingers together and smiling.

His hand moved down my stomach in a slow, straight line. Using only hisfingertips, he made a circle around my belly button and moved back upagain. I gasped again, wanting him to go lower and to take this girl.

I tried to fight for a brief moment. My mind fought back. I am not awoman or a slave. I am Harold McMaster. I am a man! I wanted to standup to run, but I was frozen in place, not only by the chain on my neckand ankle but from the sheer pleasure that was overtaking me. I sat upquickly, the chain pulling against the ring on the couch.

More...please Master. Do not stop! I yelled. A voice in the back ofmy mind screamed.

He smiled as I fell back down in the dirt. His hand moved from mybelly, touching my thighs. I spread my legs more. I couldnt help it,couldnt fight the feeling pulsing through my body. Master continuedtouching the inside of my thighs, first left, then right. He ran hisfingertips over them, moving up and down. I felt the wetness in my

pussy, feeling the moisture dripping on to my thighs where Mastershand stroked them.



I must fight. I must. I have to stop this. I...I cant keep feelinglike this.

His fingertip touched my lips and a spark shot through my body, My legsjerked and more wetness flowed from my body.

You will not yield, slave, Master said.

I bit my lip and nodded. I must not disobey Master. I am his. I amslave. My duty is absolute pleasure. I want nothing more than to pleasemen.

No. I must fight this. I have to...have to....

Masssssterrrr!! I screamed.

Beg, slave. Beg me to let you yield, he said.

My voice shaked. I had to obey.

Please, Master. Please.... I yelled. I was embarrassed that my voicewas that loud. The voice in the back of my mind screamed back at me.

No, he replied. His hand touched my pussy lips again and my bodyjolted again. I screamed.

MASTER!!! I yelled. My mouth opened and head flew back against thedirt. I shook my head, dirt getting into my hair. My body buckeduncontrollably. I wanted more. I needed more.

Beg. Slut, he hissed. My body shook more. I needed for him to let meyield. I wanted to....wanted to be....his girl.

Master....please....please....let this girl yield. She begs you,Master! The voice was slow and sensual. My body ached with desire.

His finger entered my pussy and I closed my eyes. Those same feelingbuilt up higher, unable to be controlled. The voice yelled and screamedat me, but to no avail. Harold McMaster was fading quickly at the handsof this Gorean Master.

You may yield, girl, he said slowly and quietly. My body exploded. Iarched my back, head slamming back into the dirt and my cuffed anklefighting vainly against the chain.

I love you, Master!! I screamed as the juices flowed quicker. Thevoice in my head screamed and then was silent. I could tell at thatmoment I had been taught my slavery. I knew now that this is what mylife was to be like and that there was no more room for HaroldMcMaster.

Master removed his fingers and wiped them off on my body. He removedhis pants and knelt down beside my head. He pressed his cock against mywet lips.

Perform, girl, he said.

Without thinking twice, I opened my mouth. He slid his cock in andclamped my lips down on it. I began sucking, not really sure what I wasdoing but trying to please him. That was all I wanted. I wanted to



please my Master. A slave girl wants nothing more than to please men. Ineeded to please Master.

He grabbed my collar and held me in place as he slid his cock in andout of my mouth. I wrapped my lips tighter on it, sucking as hard as Ipossibly could. I needed to taste him. It didnt take long for him tobuck his body wildly and shoot his hot cum down my throat. I swallowed

as quickly as I could, trying not to spill a single drop. When he wasfinished, he pulled his cock out and wiped my mouth off with my hair,then fell back on the couch, tired.

He smiled. Well done, slut. You will make an acceptable pleasureslave.

I blushed. Thank you, Master.

He stood up and began to dress. I watched him, blushing.

This is only the beginning of your road to your slavery, he said, as

if reading my mind.You have a lot to learn and hopefully, you willfind your true master and truly know your slavery.

I looked at him. True Master?

He sat back down on the bench after finishing. Yes, girl. Your TrueMaster is your absolute and natural master, the ideal and perfect malefor you, dominant and uncompromising, who, could, and would, demand andget your full, yielding sexuality, which a woman can give only to a manwho owns her totally, before whom, and to whom, she can be only anadoring slave. He cleared his throat and for a moment, I sensedsomething.

But, on to final things, he said. He looked at his watch. We havetwo hours. It is just enough time to prepare you and get you to theproper embarkation point. He picked up a few items from a table andsat back down. Kneel here, girl.

I sat up on my knees before him. My body was still dripping with my ownjuices and I was still able to smell his scent. He picked up a needleand held it before me.

Do not ask any questions as I do not feel like answering them. I willexplain what each of these items are as we use them. Understand? heasked. I nodded. This first needle is a stabilization serum. It stopsthe aging process and allows Goreans to live for very long periods oftime. It is a series of four injections. You will get this one now andthe others will be administered in transit. He had me turn around andinjected the needle in my thigh. I winched, but stayed perfectly still.

Next, he lifted up a large goblet and held it out before me. Drinkthis. Every drop. I took the glass and sipped it.

Ugh...its bitter, I said. He stared at me and I continued drinking.

This is called slave wine. It is probably unnecessary for you becauseof....well, who you were..but it is necessary that you have it. Itallows a slave to engage in sex without getting pregnant. I almost did

a spittake as he spoke, but managed to slowly swallow every drop. Hetook the cup and checked it. Open your mouth, he said and checkedthat I had swallowed every bit of it.



He picked up another needle and held it out in front of me.

This is your final item. This will prepare you for the long journey toGor; to your new home. It is merely a heavy sedative. You will fallasleep here and when you awaken, you will be there.

May a girl speak, Master? I asked. I blushed, knowing that he did notwish to answer a lot of questions.

Quickly, slut, he replied.

What will happen to me when I arrive?

You will be taken to a slavers house and be prepared for your sale. Ihave a buyer for you already. Your life will not be an easy one.But..if you are pleasing and serve him well, you will find it nottotally unpleasant, he said. He leaned in with the needle.

Master. Please forgive a curious girl...

I said.

I was interrupted. Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajira. You mightget beaten for it. He smiled. It is an old Gorean saying. He paused.Speak quickly girl.

I took a deep breath. Master. Might this girl know the name of hercurrent owner? The man who began her training and taught her what itwas to be a slave? So that when men ask, I may tell them and honor youMaster.

He smiled again, leaning in again and injecting the needle into mythigh.

My name is Lolar, Head Slaver of the Market of Sermis, he said.

I looked into the eyes of Master Lolar and smiled. It was the lastimage I saw as I faded into unconsciousness.

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