Chapter Text
Jason
The halls of Samos were lined with many of the finest slave girls Gor had to offer. All decked with fine silvery Gorean silk, the sort that would be too pressing for the mechanistic world of the Earth humans to recreate, to refine. They have no patience for the fine detail, with technology clouding their sight to the true value of fine created silk. But here, on Gor, we men knew the necessity, the absolute need, to have silk, made with patient hands, made to perfection, for how else would our slave girls know their place. It was, as a younger, more naive, a less sure of his maleness, self would have said, part of the process.
Samos waved for a slave girl, what was her name, I had no known way of knowing, though as she was nothing but a slave, not even a free woman, her name was no concern of mine or hers. Regardless she began to clap the pair of symbols strapped to her slender female hands together, the jingle jangle of her several sashes made of Earth coin, because as everything from Earth, it was useless, so instead it was given to adorn this slave girl, rung through the hall. She danced a grand slave dance, sashaying her sensual hips and spreading her arms out wide only to come crashing back with the stunning sound of the symbols puncturing the air’s quiet sound.
So with this fine display, I pet the bound slave girl’s head beside me, like she were a pretty Earth kitty, “So Samos, you have summoned me.” I started.
“So I have.” He responded, also petting his other other slave girl.
“And the reason for such summoning?” I inquire.
“Well, a man with no known name has told me something of great interest.” He supplied.
“No name?” I pondered, “Could he too be a rare male slave like the ginger slave over here?” I indicate the slave which has been dancing her slave dance. The symbols, I have noticed, have become even more disruptive since our conversing has begun. I singled for her to stop, for every Gor slave girl knows precisely when to stop and start, so she stops for her master and fear of the whip in my hand.
“No he is not a slave, or I presume he is not, for he has told me of new planets with women muchly like those of Earth. Poor girls trapped in the mechanics of their social norms and societal structures that cannot be female due to the fear of backlash.” Samos answered in a very detailed and manly way. And if for I wasn’t male, but female, I would have shed a tear for those poor poor other planet women, not knowing the truth about their femaleness. For I remember my dear beloved Beverly, how headstrong she was when she was restrained by the Earth world academia, instead of me restraining her… Perhaps it should be our place to educate these women.
“Perhaps it should be our place to educate these other planet women.” I suggested. It seems Samos, clever man that he is, was thinking such the same thing.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He agreed, “But sadly I shall not, for the time being, part take in the splendid pillaging and slaving that you and the man with no name, who has yet to make his appearance, shall go on. For I have set my sights on a tiny town named Galloway in that of the US of A and decided that I can’t refund that trip.”
“Ah Galloway.” I said despite not knowing of it. “So this man with no name shall be here soon with my assignment.” I presumed.
“Precisely.” A new voice said, presumably from the man with no name.
He was a gorgeous, in a non gay way, Gorean man who stood seven feet high at least, with his most finest slaving leathers on tight. They strapped across his chest, covering his erect nipples, and he wore a manly leather skirt hiding his maleness from us, for that was solely for the slave girls to see.
He strode in, brazen, and ready for the charge. “So this is the man you have said can help on our expedition in your place I presume, Samos.” The man with no name presumed correctly.
“Aye.” I spoke up, raising my hand from the slave girl's head, but then for a moment I noticed her tense, and how foolish. Only new slave girls ever tense, what right does she have, for she is of Gor and has been raised to know better than to tense when her master does not wish her to tense. I grabbed at her hair once again, less gently though from when I was petting, for this was a punishment. “Do you tense at your master's retreating hand?” I inquire.
“No master.” She said clearly, as Gorean girls know I have hearing problems and must speak in such ways. Better than those Earth women who mumble out their testaments to me. As I kept my much stronger and larger hand sturdily in her hair, she relaxed, and I triumphed once again, now knowing she knew her place as a lowly female slave well endowed with her femaleness, and muchly secure in it.
“Well as I have my own plans, I would still, if you would allow it man with no name, to hear where mayhaps you and Jay-son of Ne-Yor-Ch will be off to, surely in a reasonable amount of time.” Samos started again, pleased with my handling of his slave.
“Yes.” The man with no name said strongly, and walked towards Samos, with a carrying heavy furniture slave girl coming up behind him with a chair. He muchly sat, and indulged our intrigue. “There are two notes of interest, and so I have noted them on this map of space I have made for our space travel.” We nod at his explaining, “Those being the Lands of the Barbies and a Village hidden by leaves…”