Spy of Gor Ch. 02

This story is based on the John Norman Chronicles of Gor series of novels. (As always, copyrights are the property of the copyright-holder(s).) Translations for Gorean words (those whose meaning cannot be determined by context) can be found at a number of websites. And for those Gor fans who quibble with details or believe this goes too far afield of the Chronicles of Counter-Earth, remember ... this is fiction.

Sensation returned again. This time, it was dark.

Marius lay naked on a floor, he assumed somewhere within the master's house. He had a splitting headache, the hangover, he deduced, from whatever they had made him drink. His ass — both buttocks and anus — was sore, presumably from his rape, as was his chaq and other muscles. His knees and his buttocks were also scraped raw, either from the rape or from getting to or from the room where he was raped, he surmised.

He wondered idly what was in the drink that would simultaneously stimulate someone and remove the drinker's inhibitions. He had never had sex with a man, and was never even curious about it because of Gor's cultural taboos. And yet he not been as hard as he was while being raped since the time he was on a mission and celibate for an entire Yhn.

Marius was not alone. Also lying with him was the kajira, up against him, presumably for body warmth, similarly naked, her buttocks pressing against his groin.

Rapes of males by other males were as discussed in Gorean society as the concept of men loving men — only furtively in private conversations. Submissive men were anathema to free Gorean men, some of whom would try to kill pagar kajiri over their disgust with a kajirus' submissive nature. Although, he imagined, not a kajirus as large as the ebony one.

He had once served as a pagar kajirus after the Ubar had tasked him to infiltrate the home of a free woman thought to be colluding with the Kurii. The woman had once threatened to penetrate him with the handle of a whip, but had not carried out her threat beyond running a whip handle up and down the crack of his ass after whipping him.

He couldn't rule out the possibility, but he had never seen a pagar kajirus like the one who had raped him. That made him wonder, even with the red silk, whether the kajirus was instead a fighting slave or a bodyguard of the master.

Which brought another question to mind: Why was he kidnapped? He did not know either the master or the kajirus from sight. He had never been to this house. Free women had been known to be kidnapped and sold into slavery, but not free men from his experience.

The master was, based on his clothing, from the green caste, a physician. And yet he seemed to own several female slaves and at least one male slave. That seemed like a lot of slaves for a physician. Was the kajirus actually his bodyguard? Why would a physician need a bodyguard?

And he had a slave goad, which was rare and expensive. Why would a physician need a slave goad?

Instead of asking questions that resisted answering, Marius tried to analyze his situation in the darkness. He had been captured, and now was without money or clothing, not even boots. He assumed he was in Ar, but he couldn't be sure of that, and he did not know where in Ar he was. Even if he was not a collared or branded slave, he was nonetheless a captive of this master's house. Even if he could effect an escape, that would get him only out of this house, not back where he should be if he was somewhere other than Ar. And given how many slaves were kept naked by their masters in part to discourage escape, as soon as he escaped from the house, he would be presumed to be a slave. Being recaptured by this master would be bad; being captured by someone else — panthers, or outlaws, or a slave trader — might be worse. Since there was no official record of his actual job, he could effectively disappear without rescue.

The one emotion he did not feel was shame. He had clearly been captured not randomly, but as part of some kind of plot. The rape was unquestionably part of the master's effort to break him. His sexual release, while unnatural by Gorean norms, was forced as part of his being penetrated, as well as by the kajira's efforts at the behest of her master.

What Marius needed more than anything else at that moment was information in order to figure out what to do next, including when and how he could kill Trask. The kajira was one potential source of information, though the difficulty was overcoming her natural fear of her master.

The kajira moved slightly in her sleep, her buttocks brushing up again against his groin. That gave Marius a flash of inspiration, a way to overcome the kajira's fear of her master, or at least give her something different to think about.

Marius wrapped one hand around her mouth, and clawed one of her breasts with the other to awaken her. "Silence!" he whispered.

Marius then used his other hand to fondle the breast he had just clawed. He kissed and licked her neck, then moved his hand around her hip to between her legs, putting his middle finger just inside her fadu. As he expected, she was wet. It was too dark to see her emerald eyes, but he remembered from seeing her hours earlier how stunning she was.

Then he stopped. "I need to know," he told her. "As long as you tell me what I want to know, you will get this," reinserting his finger inside her, touching her slit, making her stiffen and inhale through his hand. She nodded her head.

"Where is this?" he asked, stopping his stroking.

"This is Ar," said the kajira. Marius resumed stroking her. He would have liked to ask her where they were in Ar, but he thought it unlikely she would know.

"Who is your master?" he asked, again stopping his stroking waiting for her answer.

"My master is Trask Kahire. He is a physician," she said. He resumed stroking her.

"How did I get here?" he asked.

"A girl does not know," she said. He didn't move his hand.

"I do not! A girl was told to come to the chamber. When this girl came in, you were chained on the floor."

He resumed stroking her.

"The kajirus who ... was with the physician. Who is he?"

"He is Qamar, the master's bodyguard," she said.

Marius was not surprised to hear that. He thought Qamar's might have been the hand with the repcloth whose capture scent knocked him out.

"And what is your name?"

"A girl is named Tarana," she said, starting to breathe harder as she became more aroused and wet.

"I am Marius," he said softly. "I need your help."

"A girl has no larma to offer you," she said. "A girl has no love furs. A girl has only her slave heat. A girl wishes to yield to you."

Marius turned her over so she lay on her back and moved on top of her from the opposite side. Without being told, she assumed the sula position, spreading her legs. "Slave lips," he said.

Tarana pursed her lips. Marius kissed her, continuing to stroke between her legs. Despite being told to be quiet, Marius could feel through his lips her scream as she yielded.

Marius then got on top of her and slid inside her. Tarana wrapped her legs around his back to give him deep penetration. He alternated between sucking on her nipples — her breasts were large enough to bring both together and suck on both at the same time — and deep kissing in part to prevent her from making noise that might wake up someone in the compound.

She didn't ask permission to yield, but technically he wasn't her master. And as he erupted inside her, he didn't care about permission.