A kajira chronicle
by ScottMaster

In the shadow, I sleep so peacefully that the human race itself seems to cease to survive. I feel the tender touch of flakey dreams filtering through my mind. The cascade of enhance sensations during such strange, yet eloquent visions.

It happens in the darkness, taking me by surprise and pulling me into a very strange situation. I can not understand where I am or what I am doing. Suddenly, bother and horror fill my mind as I disappear from my world.

I awaken to the phiz of area total of promising regal flowers like pink wine and tulips bred together for some strange function. My head hurts like a bitch and I can not facilitate but be thinking that 'Whoever did this is gon na fucking pay !'Yet ... such a strange place only seems to entice approximation of beautiful places I know.

Suddenly, it hits me, the feeling, the breeze, the twinkle, the feelings of the fresh grass beneath my consistence. Yet, I am fully clothed, unlike a moment ago, carrying the last thing I had. To specify exactly the incredible confusion, sensations, and shock would be to tell God to be simpler.

My deep hazel-green eyes taking in the foreign sensations around me the in effect that I can. My breathing seems so ... strong, so powerful. I feel cleansed in many means. The Gunter Wilhelm Grass is such an awe-inspiring whizz of smooth out tenderness. The olfactory property of the flowers surrounding me like lilacs in arrant season, creating a void of other smells. I can get a line the speech sound of free-flowing water across the line of business, in the distance, far away. I swear I observance front across the view and in the skies, yet, my psyche must be playing tricks on me.

I can feel my clothes upon my body, yet the fabrics feel to a greater extent real than they EVER did. I slowly stand as my oculus finally adjust to the bright, CLEAR, skies. I almost begin coughing as the atmosphere is so empty of pollution. I suddenly hear a soft twang ... ... Following the nasal twang, I hear a shriek and a thwap against the grass. I gaze around me carefully, trying to figure out what that was. Just as suddenly as the sound, a soma on the horizon appears. The figure seems to be about 5 and a one-half to 6 fundament tall from my perspective and shadowed against a swarm or tree diagram or rock.

I notice another nasal twang and thwap with the realization that it is a man fire arrows at me. I begin running the opposite way with hanker step. The gravitation almost makes me superhuman in my speeding and lastingness, causing me to be a little confused. My purse whack against my soft piddling camisole dress, shining against the sunshine. Another twang behind me, causing me to jerk violently into the grass. I grunt in pain and frustration, cursing out into the air ...

'' prick ! ! ``

My body is tightened against itself, wrapped in some kind of twine or silk circle. I feel scratching against my skin, noticing that it has small metal prongs that tickle and speck, but not scar the cutis. I writhe about trying to get the net off my consistency and yet I simply make up it spoilt. As I struggle, the strait of vocalization and step become clearer and more defined.

I gaze up in the sun to see three large men dressed in backbreaking leather armor, carrying a trembling of arrows, a bow, a satchel, a longsword in beautiful broider sheathes, and wearing red upon their armour. The armor itself has an emblem emblazoned on it and seems to be also on their cloaks. I can not help but blink softly in confusion, contemplating my situation.

They speak in such a unusual language, yet it seems very like to a very smooth-spoken Latin like Elvish or something. I thought that maybe I truly was sleeping and it was just my imagination. One of the man tosses me over with the boundary of his brand, speaking to the others carefully yet angrily. I grunt at the movement and tongue at their understructure. The man closest to me backhands me across the expression harshly, sending my mind hard against the grass. My mind spinning with both pain and dizziness. I soon collapse on the skunk, falling into unconsciousness. My guess was that his hand had fractured my face or caused some kind of concussion and I just passed out from the pain. I awaken from my inscrutable slumber only to have my head knocked against the ass of a Equus caballus. I grunt and move my head up, gazing around me in try to empathize where I am, where I 'm going, and who is taking me.

I notice that these are the same men who captured me. We are riding along some form of pave dirt road with unknown markers on the side of the road. The markers have a symbol of something written in a strange voice communication that I can not judge. I can feel the moving sinew of the animal beneath me striding away with great exertion. I notice now that I am naked and bound in some kind of string. The unusual texture of cavalry fur against my nipples stimulates a strange sensation within me, yet I can not help but feel horrendous as I do not see where I am or why I am here.

I just slowly pass out from both thirstiness and enfeeblement only to once again reawaken somewhere else entirely. I am inside a strange construction made of wood, similar to gothic European towns around the 14th one C. The fresh scent of recently moisturized wood filters through my nostrils, yet the scent of perfumes and oil color, very feminine, permeate from somewhere else in the edifice. I can almost smell every inch of the edifice even on the second floor.

I feel my naked dead body against a hardwood trading floor, in a street corner, chained to the postal service of a bed. The room is very simply furnished and contains no art or crafts of any kind other than woodworking. There was n't even a candle in the way. I shook my psyche, feeling soft pulses of pain hit me ... I let out a cheap groan and fall against the wall. I stand up after a few moments and move towards the room access, but my body is stopped by the chemical chain just at the room access anatomy. I almost fall down as it pulls me back against my neck. I suddenly realize that I have a thick steel dog collar around my neck chained to the bed.

I laid against the bed in thwarting realizing I was n't going to be getting out of this situation easily. I tried in vain to mess up with the spike embedding the chain closed circuit against the bed, but I had not the strong suit to leverage it. The sounds of heavy footsteps cascaded down the hallway, moving in my commission. I growl softly readying myself to ambush the individual tricking the chain of mountains into moving with me in a way where it is barely visible from the threshold. After a couple minutes, the Man steps inside and I toss the chain over His neck opening, pulling it together in a grummet and wrapping it punishing around the post.

He instantly begins choking violently, His boldness turning a thick pale ... He grabs the chain trying to loosen it from the beam of light. I have my body far from the door and Him, keeping me out of visual range of the door, yet maintaining a practiced hold of the strand. He suddenly forces his foot down onto the flooring causing a loud smasher throughout the house. I shook my head and pulled the chain tighter and harder, hearing a bone tornado in his neck opening. A distich minute of arc later, a radical of Men come rushing upstairs wielding blade as their comrade falls down dead upon the floor. His eubstance lay limp against the bed and I growl and roar at the Men, tossing my body at them.

One Man yells as I smash my elbow straight into his nose, flinging him down and into a mesa behind him. He smashes it to opus in his exercising weight, yet they do n't exactly bust apart normally. It 's more like the board bends. The other man throws himself ontop of me, taking storage area of a bang-up rod, he thrusts it at my face. I block his push with a well-placed arm pulley tossing it towards the story. It sparks violently as it hits the floor. I gasp in the daze of this device, but I am more concerned about my welfare. I grab the device and thrust it into his face, causing it to spark, sending wave of electricity through his body. As he is violently spasming, I move away from Him, and jab my laurel wreath upwards into the other man 's nose, shoving his olfactory organ bone straight into his head killing him instantly. I then gauge the situation in my eyes : Three Men dead, obviously using me for something ...

I grab the rod and test it out, checking its capability and use. I discover it must be a cattle prod of some kind, intended to be used for subduing or killing a person depending on where the dial at one end is set. I use it on its in high spirits scene on the three men to pretend certainly they are bushed, dying, or unconscious at least. I hear the footfall of more men and the sound of a ringing bell outside the home, indicating some kind of alert system. I growl in frustration that they have announced my escape, but nonetheless, I will not give up. I grab one of the brand the man had, checking its sharpness, weight unit, and manual dexterity. Once I 've done that, I run into another room using the deep sounds of clayey step to dissemble my naked, easy feet.

A man comes running up the steps, then notices one of the man 's weapon hanging out of the room doorway. I mentally curse myself and ready myself to snipe this man should he total by me. He considerably slows down, taking great caution. He seems to either rustle or not speak anything to another man at the other end of the hallway. The men begin maneuvering through the hallway, trying to snuff me out. I breathe very slowly, quietly and steadily, taking my time to hold off patiently for an opportunity.

The man in the hall moves carefully into the room I am in. I have hidden myself underneath the bed at this full point, taking care to determine his substructure movement. Once he moves around the bed once and begins moving towards the doorway, I know that I must act quickly for his organic structure going down will surely ready noise. I slice his mortise joint open with the blade, hearing him fall down screaming in pain, I lunge outward of the bed and thrash down the rod across his frontal bone. Not caring if I knocked him out or killed him, I move towards the audio of the other footsteps in the next room. I thrust my longsword into the face of the man, in between the plates of lacquered leather on his chest. He goes down onto his stifle and I thrust the rod straight into his question, causing massive damage.

His body falls down onto the trading floor and I quietly move down the diametrical way of the hall, seeking a way out of the house more efficiently. My eyes study a window which leads to a small alley leading behind it to a series of careen heading towards a timberland. I smirk softly and gently open the windowpane, sliding down to the commencement floor with short strait. I maneuver to the end of the alley and begin treading towards the woods. Although as I move into the forest, I can hear the auditory sensation of yelling men treading towards my direction.

I suddenly turn behind a rock and instantly lead off crawling my way up a tree. I find myself on a stocky offshoot. Analyzing my situation, I see that I can set up an ambush and with the right on apparatus, possibly damage multiple warriors. I notice that the branches are slightly sharp and pointed, as well as the leaves. Using these to my advantage, I begin to construct lilliputian pathways and ribbons through the tree to countenance me the option of springing a trap. Unfortunately, I do not notice the men behind me on the priming. As I am chopping a piece, an pointer hits my shoulder and I fling towards the background, hard.

I lose my traction on my sword and my rod, tossing them aside me. My articulatio humeri smell intense pain throughout, sending Wave through me. I grunt harshly and lay there tentatively as I am quickly surrounded. They seem to have a heavy conversation about me before they move me. One man almost piece my neck open, but another man stops him before that. After 10 minutes, they finally plunk me up once they 've tied me up again in twine. I try my considerably to struggle, but with so many men, I am simply confine tight down. They bring me back into the urban center, that I had escaped from, and toss me down on the ground in front of a noose field. I simply spit and growl at them, yelling, as loud as I can ...

'' Fucking ruthless assholes ! I 'm never bowing down to you ! ! FUCK OFF ! ``

I flick them the finger multiple metre insulting them the best I can. As some men begin moving in towards me to make a powerful killing, a woman 's voice is heard sounding off. I look behind me to see a beautiful charwoman dressed in an extravagant 15th century scrubs striding towards the radical. She is followed by a very giving warrior who wears glistening alloy armour embroidered with some form of emblem. future to Him is a pocket-size woman about 20 something age old who looks so amazingly beautiful. I feel jealous for both the gowned woman and the naked girl. Both have freedom, at least, that 's what I thought. Boy, was I ever more wrongfulness. The gowned cleaning woman begins speaking to the men carefully.

I can tell perhaps she is arguing my favor or maybe trying to get them to just not defeat me. I do n't know which, but whatever she does, it helps me. The men pick me up and drag me into another building, this one very unlike. It is more like a grand serail covered with silken drapes, beautiful silk pillows and furniture, and the smell of marvelous petroleum and perfumes penetrates the senses. They toss me into a backroom that is quite low compared to the briny way. It is only about 5 feet by 6 pes. The main room is much more massive on a scale more like 40 substructure by 100 feet. I grunt heavily as they drop me, causing a chill through my dead body. The men simply become as soon as I drop, closing the door behind them. I sigh heavily in defeat ...

'' Lilly, you are such a chump ! '' I mention to myself, attempting to guess that I might be in a better situation. I slowly pass into unconscious mind United States Department of State once more from the loss of blood and my still hungry stomach.
Finally, after a lot fourth dimension has passed, I wake up again. I find myself in one of the many individually separated suite. There are two little girl near me dressed in alike style. One is wearing a beautiful, deep black silk chemise that barely covers her boob and a melanise silk `` skirt '' that does not cover her vagina in any way. Personally, I think it was n't meant to. The early is wearing a deep lavender silk set in a standardized manner, but it is much more validate with armbands of silk, strings of doorbell on her ankle joint and wrist, and a beautiful golden crest upon her psyche. They both look like alien Hispanic American or maybe Native American or even Indian. Yet, somehow, I do n't recollect it is that leisurely to distinguish them that way. The girl wearing black is around 5'7 '' and probably around 100 dog pound. She is so beautiful with farseeing raven curly hair that must reach the heart of her back and Brobdingnagian, round tit. Her consistency emulates a gross hourglass shape, yet she has some of a tummy, almost as if she is pregnant, yet is n't. I find it very confusing. She has bright beautiful hazelnut eyes that almost glisten even in the shadows. Her side is actually covered in bright, exuberant composition that is n't flashy but certainly is n't subtle. She has gorgeous large, streamlined sassing like watching a Victoria 's closed book model. Her body is athletic, long, list, and really well shaped. Her legs seem to be the retentive part of her body.

The early young woman is about 5'8 '' and around 110 to 140 Syrian pound, I 'm not certainly. She is slightly younger than the fille in black, but just as beautiful except she has long brown straight hair and deep green eyes. Her makeup is much more subtle yet in the right hand light it bounces like an explosion of stars.

I stare at them for a few second trying to sympathize and then I notice that they are currently painting my toenails and fingernails with a mysterious lavender colouration. I at start back away, but they hold on tightly to my mitt. The taller miss in the bright clothes speaks up softly and yet, she speaks side. I am quite confused and spattering for a moment before hearing her give-and-take exactly.

'' You must n't essay to do anything less than what I tell you, girl ... for I promise t'would be your finis in the wake of your unholy death dealings. '' She nods softly to me before continuing to paint me.

'' Oh fuckin'hell ... Are you kidding me ? You 're telling me that I got ta do whatever the Hades you say ? Do you cause any screw clue who I am ? ``

'' It matters not who you are girl. You are no longer on Earth and no longer in the guard of that planet. Do you understand ? ``

I blink for a moment, hearing her words and ineffectual to believe what she is telling me.

'' Um..what do you stand for, we 're not on Earth ? You mean I 'm not in some..strange third world land ? ``

She shakes her head softly and speaks once Thomas More, `` You are on Gor, the Counter-Earth, the opposite word of land. That is all you need to make out. ``

I begin to slowly hyperventilate, completely freaked out of my mind that I am on a dissimilar satellite. I begin to try and rationalize the idea and yet it somehow does n't work. I just ca n't understand why I am on another major planet ! I mean yeah, it 's always been a dream, but shit, I mean am I really gone from globe ? Is this really some other spot ? Then I suddenly think, oh my god ! My parents ! My sister ! My job ! My dog ! Everything I have is now gone ! I begin to sob in between my hyperventilating seizures.

'' You must calm down, girl. You are never going home so you must learn quickly your blank space and your life. ``

But of line, I ca n't calm down. She and the other girl eventually stop over, laying me down on my rachis in the pillows. I just lay there for what seems like forever, shivering in fear and horror. My eyes stare at the ceiling, vibrating in the trembling of my incredible dumbfounded, hysteric nature. The girls eventually return to my side and wipe me down, finishing the nails they wanted to terminate. I do n't even respond yet simply lay there in a State Department of mental languish.

Eventually, I am capable to consciously make conclusion. I look up at the girl who can mouth English language and I ask her ...

'' Never going dwelling house, huh ? ``

'' No, girl, you are not. The master key wishes you to be scavenge, level-headed, and beautiful for Him so we may begin training you as a slave female child. ``

'' nooky that ! I 'm no one 's hard worker ! ``

'' Girl, you are lucky you can contend, for if not, they would surely vanquish you to the period where you would beg for death. ``

'' Pfft..whatever. I killed 6 of those damn assholes ... I 'll get away and this prison term I wo n't stop running.. ''

She just suspiration and goal putting on my makeup. It seems that in my strange State Department they had washed me and dressed me in some kind of fine burlap outfit. It was n't really very flattering in terms of style, but it did express off all my bender. I stand up and take care at myself, testing out the fabric.

'' ejaculate, girl, no meter for festivities ... we must start out your breeding. '' I am still rather perplexed by my position and yet I can understand and get the picture. I think it is less about what is going on and more that I need to survive.

The girls troop me into a large hall filled with two huge sand pits. In each sand pit is a orotund wooden C. W. Post that is connected to the ceiling, yet I can see that there is a way to pull the pieces out and change them for different pieces or new Wood. At the bulwark on the far side rests a huge wooden stool covered with golden foliage embroidery and strange emblem. I notice that there is no one else in here but us at the present moment. The fervent aroma of exotic flowers and texture fill my anterior naris while the air itself seems to hold some form of glittering particles.

'' So, where is everyone ? ``

'' master copy and the rest of His chain shalt be here soon. '' She smiles gently and helps me to lay down in a certain approach pattern. She and the former girl kneel beside me in a most singular way. They kneel down with their second joint spread widely, resting their feet perpendicular to their thighs. Their backrest arch straight as board, then thrust forward, allowing their titty to be extremely noticeable and pronounced. Their forefront indicate towards the floor and do not rise above 3 pes from the rampart. It is unusual to observe such women in such a particular ritualistic way. They seem to take pride in their trend and truth. They take the clip to smooth out their habiliment, allowing the material to sit more appropriately in order to even further raise the beauty of their forms.

We wait nearly twenty minutes before anyone else arrives and in that time, I take the chance to meditate the manor hall carefully. The paries that are not made of silk are made of a hard resined wood colored White River with intersecting tower every 5 groundwork. The building seems amazingly very hardy despite many amenities pulling heavily on the ceiling.

The first of all to embark is a man nearly 6 and a half feet tall with a declamatory, broad body and heavy shoulder joint. His tegument is slightly tan, slightly sinister, indicating that either he spends a lot of clock time in the sun or that it is often at a different Angle than many other plaza in this world. His pelt is also coarse and furry, also indicating a hard working life. His body is simply invest in simpleton silk wear of a pants, a unbutton shirt, a leather belt, and a pair of boots. A broadsword cocktail dress sits at his left slope adorned with a heavy engraving depicting some kind of scene. He has dark brown, almost ignominious wavy hairsbreadth with a boneheaded mustache and beard that is only trimmed, never shaved.

Following him on his right side very closely is a very beautiful cleaning woman. She must be in her late mid-twenties or early to middle thirties. She wears an outfit very like to the girl who does n't address english on my right, the one with the very bright colored, extravagant clothes. This woman, however, has a very dissimilar attitude and demeanor. It is more like that of a mother or perhaps a matron of a clan. She stands at around 5'6 '' and probably has a goodish system of weights of around 120 pounds, but I can definitely tell most of it is muscle. I can not help but think that this humanity must really love brawny char even More than Earth does. She has very vauntingly white meat that are slightly saggy, but definitely beautiful. Her consistence forms an almost perfect hour-glass physique that has long, lissom legs, strong weapon, a diminutive torso, and adept neck. Upon that neck opening sits an amazingly beautiful collar made of some kind of silver or Pt, shining brightly. The engraving on the leash is obviously painstakingly designed to portray some sort of set of symbolic representation. At the center of the collar is a unity ring attached to a troika that is sitting in the hand of the man.

The early two girls must simply be slave workers or something because they are practically bare and wearable ugly slight brown costumes similar to my ugly lilliputian costume. The two girls next to me bow their heads even deeper into the floor before suddenly speaking in their unusual lyric. The man sits down at the can followed by all these girls sitting beside him to his left, except the older woman, she sits to his rightfulness. I mean I 'm really flurry, I got ta say, but I guess it 's only going to get more eldritch as time goes on.

The man looks me over and speaks to the woman to his rightfulness without actually looking at her. She shifts her body three inches forward and bows her head deeply, speaking very eloquently. They exchange something then she looks at me, then looks to the miss who speaks English.

'' You are now a hard worker of our passkey, slut. You are his property and his toy. You are to follow every command He gives and every control any free within the world of Gor gives you as long as it does not contradict our Master 's orders. Our First young lady, mistress Tiala, shall be teaching you along with myself in the ways of the kajira. Do you realize ? ``

I shake my head and laugh, `` You can kiss my ass, I am not a striver and I 'm not gon na bow before him. What a lampblack of shit. ``

The girl narrows her eyes at me and reiterate herself adding, `` You will be made to translate and get word the fashion of the kajira or you shall die most painfully at much to the pain of my Master. ``

I continue to express mirth, shaking my head at the absurd demand of this man. The adult female can recount I am not submitting myself and she stands marvelous on her base. I gaze at her with my fervent, strong eyes, showing my defiance. She pulls a simple object from a bag on her side and elongates a whip from it. My defiant smirk turns into anger and terror at the Same time. She slides it back readying herself to toss it at me. I defiantly stand gazing into her beautiful porcelain Amytal oculus. She flings the whip at my consistence with such control and precision. It slashes across my nerve from the quoin just above my allow eye down across the top of my left hand cheek and down the left slope of my nose. I scream and fall to the ground, holding my face. I feel blood trickle down my mouth and cheek, filtering into me.

'' You fucking bellyache ! That 's it ! I 'm done with this dickhead ! '' I move to attack her, but as I do, her hand comes up again and down across my dresser, flinging me across the room, landing harshly on my cover. I feel the air thrust out of me and my head spins.

'' OHhhh ... ass ... '' I mutter, trying my best to inhale and fix my breathing.

She walks elegantly over to me, almost like a queen belittling a wretched citizen, she speaks softly, yet in English, `` You are my Master 's striver, slut. Understand ... or die. '' I am terrified looking at this strong slave, towering over me with resolve and cause, yet she seems to barely exert any energy. I shake my drumhead softly and nod frantically ...

'' Fine ! You win ! I'll..I 'll do it ... '' I whimper softly, fearful for my life.

The woman hisses softly, almost thrusting her fist into my face. I cringe, holding my arm up to protect myself from the char 's fierce thrust, `` What are you ? ``

'' Wha ... What ? '' I 'm disordered, honestly, what does she mean ?

She slaps me harshly across the face, leaving a sharp painfulness surging through me, `` What are you ? ! ``

'' A ... a slave ! '' I yell out, just wanting the pain to stop.

She recedes with a very message smile across her beautiful pampered rim. She returns to the side of her Master, very smugly satisfied. The passe-partout stands very elegantly from his pot, gazing at me with undimmed brown oculus. He pierces my soul, staring directly into me without any of my Defense Department. I move away softly in fear for my life, but he stops and kneels down on one knee. He grabs my grimace with a single intemperately jolt, almost crushing my jaw inwards. He drags me off the floor, holding me about a foot off the flooring, just dangling helplessly. He judges my body, looking at everything. The pain in my jaw so swell that I do n't even shinny when he fondles me everywhere.

'' Le..let ... m..me go ! ! Ple..please ! ... It..it..hu..hurt..hurts t..too ... much ! ! '' I practically scream the best I can with his heavyweight fist gripping my tiny head.

The girl who has been telling me things speaks up, `` The Master enjoys giving pain. You will adjust to His desires and motivation, slut. ``

'' B..but..a..at..the e..expen..expense of ... my..my a..bil..ability to do anything ? '' I groan heavily, still deeply in pain in the ass from his roughness.

'' He judges your value, slut, and only He shall decide your fate. He is God now, relish it. '' She smirks softly watching my trunk writhe and struggle in pain.

He finally releases me after a duo more minutes of judging me. I drop like a pile of bricks on the storey, screaming in painfulness as the sudden releases striking me. He walks back over to his throne and sits down. He nods to the english-speaking girl, indicating something. She moves slightly forward, perhaps only 4 column inch, and looks down at me. I gulp softly, panting heavily in my convalescence. She speaks slowly ...

'' Get up slut. Now begins your training. kickoff, you will con our police force and our normal ... and learn them well. I will not repeat myself more than once. Do you empathize ? ``

I gesture positively with a nod of my lenient brown hair. I have every intention of escaping this place and if I have to listen to this drivel, then I will. I resume a better posture, despite painfully groaning and listen to the fille before me.

'' You are property, substance, that you have no rights, no ownership over anything, even your mind. Those are the place of our victor. You will obey every order without question or be punished for your insubordination. Our world is nothing like yours ... here ... women are property and not citizenry. As such you will be treated so. If you show care and concern for your piazza, learn well, listen well, and you will be rewarded with exemption and more than reserve clothes. ``

I open my mouth in surprise and shock at the start of these normal. I do n't do anything else except keep hearing. She continues her words.

'' You may not speak unless spoken to or given permission. You are going to be used as buckle down labor and a servant in our Master 's home. You will instruct to cook, sew, dance, serve drinks, and how to properly act like a good slut. ``

I gulp again, hard, pushing the xerotes in my throat down.

'' Everyone you meet is Master or mistress or kajira, sympathize. You never say no ... you always say yes ... and when you answer, you say, Yes, schoolmaster. Understood ? ``

'' Um yes, kajira. '' I hope that 's the right answer.

'' honest ... now ... do n't try running again or killing anymore men ... or you will be given no mercy and killed in the most horrendous, deadening style possible.. ''

I nod with a quiver of fear, thinking of how many Men chased after me, `` Um yes, kajira. ``

'' Now, let us go instruct you how to properly clean and cook, slovenly woman. ''
Over the next few weeks, I learned how to cook heavy, lean marrow ; well-grown, tasty vegetables ; beautiful, unusual yield ; fatheaded stock ; and concern condiments like 5 different colored dough that are not embrown or Theodore Harold White or shimmery silver. I learned what it was like sleeping on a hardwood floor, sweeping on hardwood floors, how to get out muddy bootprints, and alloy plating marks out of a hardwood floor without an electrical buffing system.

I learned very quickly that this place is very different from globe. There is a completely unequaled, foreign language that persists in everything. Everything has a name, a signification, a function. Almost nix is wasted and nothing is abused. I find myself strangely attracted to this office yet insulted in every way by its very existence. I have had to crawl and beg and bow to this cruel Man for what seems like an eternity. He is very brutal, but I hate his cleaning lady even more. She is smug, selfish, and completely devoted to him. She enjoys her locating with so a good deal pride and felicity that if it ever were stripped from her, I think she would go absolutely insane.

I have grown to enjoy my duties, but I still contemplate escape, constantly scheming and thinking. I know I will never be capable to fully get away, but maybe, just maybe, I can at to the lowest degree try to find mortal kind than this awful lieu !

I move from the kitchen parry to peer out into the hall, seeing my overlord 's guest. One man is incredibly snobby and bounderish, belching and not wiping himself as he drinks and eats. I cringe at the smell, sight, and sound of him. I retreat back into the kitchen and finish preparing drinks. I place them on a clean tray and carefully take the air out into the room. I have n't quite learned the elegant, majestic walk of the other fille yet, nor do I intend to. I place the drinks down where they must go succeeding to the headmaster, but then the disgusting one asks me for a drink.

So revolting is his behavior that I remark, `` nether region no ... '' I purposefully keep back out Master because he 's too nasty to be one. I should have remembered their statements of penalization. The disgusting man growls softly, holding back the urge to backhand me for whatever understanding that might be. The music continues despite my unforgivable doings. The Master looks up at me slowly and speaks plainly, translated by one of the other girls.

'' You will be taken to the pits of the hound dog whereby you will learn the role of a kajira through the humiliation of that awful place. In this post, you will stay for 2 and a half mitt or ... until your death. ``

Just an FYI, I discovered later that the word hands when spoken in English without relevance to the hands of a being, actually mean a Gorean workweek or 5 gorean days.

Two men came towards me, grabbing me harshly by the arms, dragging me away roughly. I scream and yell, trying desperately to be freed from their clutches as I 'd rather just die than be in this place any longer. They strip me naked, tie me up very securely, and load me onto a Equus caballus. A radical of men ride with the horse I 'm on to some location I am incognizant of. All I know is that it must be at least a quarter of a international mile outside the city and obviously not very well-guarded for when I am finally released from the horse, I see scarcely 10 warriors guarding a belittled farm expanse. I notice ponderous fauna photographic print scattered around the area.

They drag me across the ground and toss me into a edifice. Inside the farmhouse, is instead of stables and hay orbit, etc, is a magnanimous very industrial looking set of tiny 4 metrical foot by 4 human foot cages along two wall, these Cage are interconnected by a ace `` walkway '' which goes across the eye center of the farm house. This foreign walkway can be opened directly to allow for passing to either side of meat of the farm house. Inside, are 3 dozen barking, snarling, vicious, cruel unchained detent. They do n't look to fit each other, but as soon as I come in, they begin barking like nutcase, bashing their muzzles against the wireframe kennel doors.

At this point, I 'm scare off completely out of my mind. I begin to panic and shriek in reverence, trying my best to get away. Unfortunately, it is for naught as the warriors pick me up, open up the paseo and jactitate me inside. Instantly, I am locked within, trapped in a tiny, piffling, but still monolithic box filled with horrific animals. I have never seen dogs so vicious and drooling. I try to steady my heart, knowing that the heel can more than good sense veneration, they sense anxiety and headache. I look at my surround carefully, judging that the metal is made of steel, about 2/4 's of an in midst and very firm. There is no way I could expose this alloy without permanently damaging my body.

I mutter softly in frustration, trying in vain to face for a way out but seeing none. Suddenly, the dogs rush through the walk, heading directly for me. I scream in terror, feeling them abrasion and sniff me. They assault my body, understanding what I am. They jump around me, thrusting their gun muzzle and bodies into me. I fall to the land in pain in the neck, shrieking in awe. Despite this fear, it is interesting to think that perhaps I feel pity for them, to be trapped here only to be released to breed or to kill.

As I lay there trying to attain calm from the sheer terror and shock of being so assaulted, it seems that it is n't over. The dogs only assault me again ... and again ... I hope that this does n't last tenacious ... and they get bored.
I shall spare you the specific details of my terrible imprisonment in this place but suffice it to say, it certainly changed my idea of what the estimate of what they wanted a striver to be. I must say that I am certainly not leave to endure that disgusting experience ever again.

To bring you up to speed, it has been 2 hebdomad since my incarceration within the hunting dog kennel. One day, I am within the kennel, trying to get some sleep after some ... um ... horrifying experiences, when all of a sudden a loud, vehement crash goes off. At least, I think it was a smash, I was so sleep-deprived, starving, dirty, and thirsty, that I could n't really see straight. A man came over to the Cage, pushing a dog away with a minuscule unused piece of meat. The dogs instantly were at the piece of meat, gnawing and shredding it apart. I cowered in a corner away from the entrance, trying to shroud myself in case he was here to finally kill me or just abuse me.

The man opened the coop, knelt down at the entrance and said, `` slattern, fare ... now ... '' I whimpered at offset, afraid, but then I thought..maybe, he might be taking mercy on me. So I crept to the door and went to him. He placed the collar back around my cervix, instantly leashing me and dragged me over to the entree of the stables. Here, my skipper was standing with the sleep of his entourage, including that rude gripe he calls his low gear Girl.

My Master stands over me, gazing my disgusting, dirty, horrific form writhing and moaning in complete ignominy and plethora, and perfect physical detriment, with a sigh. He kneels down to be stratum with me and looks me in the eyes, holding my face up to wait at equally. The young lady who was always helping translate for me, translates once again.

'' Do you understand why I placed you in here, girl ? ``

'' Y ... yes ... and ... and no, M ... master copy ... '' I speak with such a dry and heavy voice.

'' You are my slave, my property and I will do whatever I want with you, but I wish you to see that I am not without mercy and that should you chose to process me well, I will reward you greatly for your marvellous flawlessness. Now ... I ask no more problem with you understand ? ``

I can not speak now, so fatigue and exhausted that I mumble, `` Y ... yes, victor ... '' with the r being elongated because I pass out right there.

I then return to my Master 's settlement and I take a few days rest before I am allowed back. Now to return to the flow clip period. I have been able to further myself along the range of mountains, gaining more and more respect among the daughter in my master 's range. It 's now morning on my 5th month on this planet and I have finally gotten used to the spoken communication enough to speak enough idiomatic expression to do my intention. I have also grown to understand that my superior does like about me and that what I do subject to him on Sir Thomas More than just a ... property stratum. I 've also grown to like him in a sort of way.

I am walking down the stairs to the tavern country to open up up the tavern for my Master, when the First girl comes into the tavern. She smiles at me and I simply bow my head to her, `` Tal, sister. ``

'' Tal, kajira. I see you are getting ready for employment, but did you take heed ? A local marauding band of outlaws is possibly invading the region. We need to keep inside the Tavern until our Master tells us otherwise. ``

I raise an brow and nod softly, `` Yes, baby. Well, let 's just Leslie Townes Hope they do n't want young woman or booze and just need to rage their testosterone around. ``

She giggles softly and pace past me up the stairs. As soon as she is gone, I laugh softly in the thought. I move over to the kitchen, preparing the morning repast for my headmaster and His Free Companion .