Adventures on Hor Ch. 03: Owned

CHAPTER 3: OWNED

The travel through the wasteland proved to be uneventful. Though riders were spotted along the way, it did seem that word had somehow preceded the caravan and even a group of marauders did not wish to attempt an attack on a caravan with Goran leading the way.

Once the caravan had reached the relative safety of the other side, as if they had traversed a treacherous open sea, Goran left Cat with the borsin while he finalized the negotiation for his services. Since the caravan wasn't attacked, nobody was killed or taken in the process, and nobody lost any goods, he was entitled to the maximum of their agreement. Cat watched him inspect an array of swords, which seemed curious to her. He already had two crossed over his back and several daggers. How many did he need? Cat watched from her location with the borsin she stood beneath gently stroking his neck with both hands, his head lolling and gentle sounds escaping him. She couldn't hear well and many of the Horean words were still unfamiliar to her despite the rapid learning she had achieved in the short time with Goran. She watched as he carefully examined various swords, tested them for weight and balance, and occasionally glancing back to her in the process. Finally selecting one, he also selected lengths of sheer material, shoes made of hide, and a bag of coins to complete the transaction.

The caravan was settling in a clearing for the night while Goran desired to continue with the remaining light. He wanted to enter the next small city well in advance of the caravan. He only confided to Cat that there was negotiation he wanted to enter before the caravan added to the demands on certain merchants and craftsmen.

When they made camp for the night and settled after the meal, Goran handed Cat a thin bag made of some kind of hide and the hide shoes she saw him receive. The shoes were more like sandals with straps. She looked up from her presentation position in front of him as he lounged near the fire. Days were consistently hot, which dictated his desire to be shirtless and her to be naked. Though nights would cool, the fire and blankets were sufficient that more clothes were rarely ever needed for the region she had been exposed to so far.

She opened the bag and pulled out yards of fabric, very lightweight, very sheer fabric. "You became a scientist, a soldier, and commander in your life. Was your mother ever successful in the instruction of sewing?"

Her fingers were inspecting the fine fabric. She could see her fingers underneath even in the dark by only the light of the fire. But the fabric was fine and well woven. She looked from the fabric and sandals to him, "For me, Master?" She smiled. She remembered Slave Rule Eight: Slaves possess nothing not given to them by their owner. Her smile broadened. She was given something to wear even if it still revealed her. "Ai Sar. Though I was more of a tom-boy than the girly-girl she wished for, she was able to sit me down long enough to learn sewing and cooking."

"If your sewing is as good as your cooking ... Your first garment, to be worn when I direct in the cities. Remember that I said I wished for you to stand out, to attract attention as an exceptional slave?" She nodded. "This garment should reflect that. I envision a garment that attaches at the neck in front, leaves your breasts exposed, drapes around to your back at the waist leaving your slave mark showing. Below the waist should be flowing and exposing." He could see her eyes gleaming in the light of the fire and he smiled and held out his arms to her. She quickly replaced the fabric into the bag and crawled into his waiting arms. "I can see by your eyes you already have a vision of what you will create. I know it will please me."

She nearly purred with delight. She kissed his chest and rubbed her erect nipples into his skin and moved her dripping pussy over the tight hide pants he wore. There was no rationalizing it. No explaining why or how the change in her had occurred. All she knew was that she truly was content in her position with him ... she was a slave to this man and it was like a fulfillment of herself. Her life experience and training contradicted what she felt. A woman dedicated to strength, independence, and intellect ... now fully content to serve a man ... but this was certainly not just any man.

She had tried to wheedle information out of Goran in anticipation of what a city, even a small one, might be like on HOR. His descriptions didn't prepare her for what she encountered as they entered the outskirts. He assisted her down from the borsin. She was wearing the sandals on her feet and nothing else. She walked alongside the borsin as they approached a gated entrance to the city, walls of about the height of the borsin surrounding the city. Goran, mounted atop the borsin, drew attention from everyone. She had not seen a similar animal in the days of travel and by the looks of the people they passed, they hadn't, either. The guards at the gate watched him approach, hardly noticing the slave next to the borsin, as Goran glared at them from high above as if to dare them to challenge their entrance. They didn't but diverted their eyes to less threatening visitors.

Cat had to control the delight she felt by the looks of apprehension she saw in the eyes of men as Goran made his way to a stable, which seemed entirely inadequate to restrain his borsin if it had any interest in even leaning against the fencing. Without bridle and reins, the stable master had no idea what to do with the massive borsin. Goran assured him that if it was fed, it might not feed on the other rides in the corral. Goran could barely contain himself from laughing at the look of fear he received back. The borsin, of course, was a grazing beast.

After Goran dropped the packs and weapons from the borsin, Cat was to move it into the corral. The man working the stable watched in fear as Cat attempted to move the mountain of stubborn flesh, pulling its main, pushing on its flank, and swatting its hindquarters. She stopped upon hearing Goran's voice after only moving him halfway to the enclosure. He did not appreciate being put into fencing.

"Having trouble, slave?"

"Master, this borsin is the most obstinate creature ..." He walked up to it and stopped in front. It lowered its head for petting, then calmly followed Goran into the corral. Cat was flapping her arms in frustration. "How do you do that, Master? For me, it is like moving a boulder stuck in the ground."

"These beasts, Cat, are quite intelligent. Force isn't always the best way."

They each picked up the packs and equipment, Goran taking most of the weight, and headed down the street. Although Cat was rapidly picking up the verbal Horean language, she had not been exposed to the written form so the signs in front of the building meant nothing to her. She merely struggled down the street in pursuit of the much faster Goran. She was sure she looked quite the sight, naked and weighted down by weapons and small packs. People watched them but not nearly so much her as naked slaves were a common sight even in the city streets following their masters discretely and quietly. Cat didn't feel either discrete or quiet as she grunted and panted under the load hoping that one of the nearby buildings would be their destination.

Goran stopped outside a building that was four stories tall. Cat was intrigued by the city. On the one hand, many buildings appeared well built and finely crafted. The streets were smooth and well cared for. The walkways along the streets and in front of the buildings and shops were paved with bricks. There were street lamps, probably fueled by oil. There was glass in the windows. There were signs of modernization happening but none of it seemed to go in the direction of advanced weapons or transportation. Many of the city people were finely dressed in gowns, trousers, shirts, and capes. And there were also many naked slaves about. The scene seemed to be a paradox to her.

At the edge of the walkway before the tall building, Goran turned to her. "What are you?"

"I am a slave." He offered a faint smile and she realized he was warning her that she must be careful regarding her actions and behavior.

She followed him inside. There was a counter and a wall with cubbyholes and a large ledger on the counter. It reminded her of a movie depicting old hotels. She was correct. Goran dropped his load and moved to the counter. Cat placed her load alongside the packs and assumed the presentation position without being asked. Goran asked for a room.

The innkeeper looked around him, noticing not only a slave but the pile of items. He carefully inquired, "Traveling long?" Very long. Glancing at the slave, he added, "All the rooms have slave rings to secure the slave." Cat glanced up, slave ring? Secure?

Goran didn't turn around, merely added, "Thank you, but it won't be needed."

He had asked for a room on the top floor. It would offer the most security. Once in the room, Cat asked, "Slave ring, Master?"

He pointed to the floor at the end of the bed. Bolted to the floorboards was indeed a heavy steel ring. "Many slaves are secured by their owners." He didn't add anything more.

"May I ask about the borsin? I haven't seen another like him. How did you get him?"

He walked to the window muttering about which direction it was pointing. He looked out and called her to it. She stood at the window in front of him. He put one arm around her naked body and pointed over the other building. "See those mountains in the distance? The snow-capped ones ..." She nodded while feeling his hand grab a breast and begin fondling it. She leaned back into his body and sighed. "That range is thought to be impenetrable. On the other side, though, is another life, if you will. A different group of people, very secretive and independent. All who have tried to cross it have died, either by exposure to the mountains or ... well, mysterious circumstances." He chuckled. No longer needing to point, both his hands were busy fondling and stroking Cat's breasts and stomach down to her pussy. She groaned at the attention but she also was interested in the story.

"But somehow you managed to penetrate the impenetrable?"

He chuckled and pressed her against the window panes, one hand loosening his pants. "Penetrate ... I like that word. Don't you like that word, Cat?"

"Ai Sar, very much." She gasped as she felt his hard cock press against her ass, then move lower between her parted thighs to slide along her wet pussy lips. The bottom half of the window was open to let in the air. Her breasts were pressed into the upper half. She glanced down and could see people moving about the street. When his wonderful cock penetrated her pussy and drove much of it into her in the first thrust, she cried out. "OH ... GOD ... YESSSSSS ... MASTER!"

He thrust twice more to become fully embedded in her pussy. She was panting, loving the feel of his massive cock buried inside her. He pinched her nipples to get her attention, "Are you still listening to the story you wanted?"

"Oh God ... (gasp) ... of course, Master."

He slowed his thrusts but continued moving inside her. "Where was I then ... aaah, yes ... the people beyond the mountains had sent an emissary to seek my assistance in a small matter. Well, a large matter. One of the warlords here was moving a small army to support an effort to conquer the mountain and discover what lay on the other side."

Cat gasped and panted as she moved her pussy over his cock as much as he was thrusting into her. "You ... they ... oh, yes Master ... ughmmmm ... mmmmmmm ... they wanted ... you to stop ... them?"

He thrust in hard causing her to cry out her pleasure. He pressed hard, "Cum on my cock, Cat. Give me your orgasm in front of the window. Cry out your orgasm and let all those people see and hear what a sensuous slave you are." He thrust hard, pressing her into the window and she cried out over and over. Slowly people below began looking around for the source of the cries until more people assembled and began pointing up at their window.

"OH GOD, YES MASTER! YEEESSSSS! FUCK YOUR SLAVE, MASTER!" Her orgasm was shattering. Goran wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as her body quivered and quaked. She went limp and he pulled out of her and carried her to the bed. He wasn't done with her, though. He stripped off his boots and pants, then lay on the covered bed and pulled her to him. She looked at his raging hard cock and straddled him, sitting down on his cock. She shivered with resurging lust.

He put his hand on her hip to indicate that she should make it slow. "My story. No, they didn't intend for me to stop a small army. They wanted me to instruct them in fortifying their defenses against the army. In the end, half the army was destroyed and the people didn't lose anyone. To those of the army who left with their lives, they believed the mountain had defeated them as if it was possessed by spirits. It was taken as an omen that the mountains were impossible to pass."

Cat was slowly fucking him up and down, her arousal increasing quickly as was Goran's. "What did you do, Master, that made them think that?"

He pinched her nipples as his eyes seemed to focus on something very far in the distance and Cat knew he was deep in the memory of what happened. "We had just enough time to prepare. Many of the people were in the snowfields high on the mountain. Others were on the cliffs over the only possible canyon route into the mountains. We set a landslide at the back of the army. The people felt panic and acted a bit too early but it was sufficient. I intended to trap the entire army. Then, from far above, snow began moving by prying large chunks of the ice loose. From that height, a massive avalanche resulted and covered the portion of the army trapped by the landslide. I worried about the army behind the landslide but ... they turned and fast marched back. There is now a legend about those mountains being haunted and possessed."

Her slow fucking motion kept them aroused but in check. "So ... the borsin ..."

"Yes ... the borsin ... I was taken over the mountain to one of their villages. Cat, you should have seen it ... there were great herds of those beasts. They were wild, though some were able to be used. Men had to exert dominance over the borsin and, if he was successful, it was his forever and only his. There is some connection. I said they were intelligent and they are. The borsin isn't tamed or domesticated, Cat. He just honors me with his obedience. To put a bridle or saddle on him would be to dishonor him."

"But, Master, how did you and the borsin get back over the mountain if the pass was blocked by rock and ice?"

He laughed, grabbed her, and rolled them over. She wrapped her legs around his hips as Goran began fucking into her. He kissed her, "It turns out ... there was a very easy route hidden further up the range, a series of deep, hidden canyons and a long cave leading through the mountain."

"Master, you said there is a trick. I want to be able to control the borsin, too."

He smiled devilishly, "There were women who rode them, but I am not sure you would like how they won the borsin to them."

Before she could pursue that with more questions, though, he drove his massive cock deep into her and gave her something more intense to focus on.

After fucking her to another screaming orgasm and finding his release, they ate. Then he enjoyed her more in the comfort of a real bed. The walls were thin and their antics were heard over several floors. Not that Goran cared. Goran wasn't the sort of man who cares what strangers thought. And if Goran didn't care, Cat certainly didn't.

The next day was spent moving from shop to shop where Goran searched for particular items of interest or need. One of the first shops was a sword craftsman. While Cat knelt out of the way in the presentation position, she tried to listen to the conversation. Cat had carried the new sword Goran had bartered with the caravan for his services. They often talked in hushed tones as if they were in the presence of something special and perhaps that is the way someone like Goran or a sword craftsman reacts with fine swords. Goran laid one of his swords alongside the new one on the counter. His sword was massive in comparison, a thick gleaming blade with a slight curl and wider toward the end before tapering to a point, again.

She heard Goran's final instructions, "I want a similar hilt and guard but the diameter should be slightly smaller. The butt end should bear my symbol. The shape and balance of the blade should be the same but to scale to the shorter length. The edge should be honed to slice paper." Goran turned and gazed at Cat as if trying to decide something else. Finally, he drew his dagger, moved her head forward and down, and slice off a length of her long dark hair from underneath where it wouldn't show. "Lastly, braid this hair and fasten it to the guard of the hilt. If you can add some flashy stones at the end, it would be perfect."

The craftsman appraised the sword, asked if he could hold Goran's for reference, and nodded his acceptance of the task. Then, "This is a gift, then. For someone special?"

Goran looked the man in the eyes, "Yes ... very special. It must be worthy of a smaller warrior." The man nodded. Except to appraise her on entering his shop, the man had paid little attention to Cat.

At another shop, Goran had Cat hand the craftsman the ring of black metal. Goran indicated the locations he wished the metal to be engraved with his symbol. The craftsman then measured her neck, his hand touching her breasts casually as if he was appreciating a finely carved sculpture. Indeed, owners of fine slaves rarely objected but considered it a compliment for owning a slave worthy of attention. Goran merely stood and watched as the man not only measured and considered Cat's neck but touch and felt other parts of her body.

Finally, the craftsman offered, "Sir, perhaps such a slave might also be adorned with other items. Perhaps dangling jewels from nipple clamps. Breasts like these ... such a rare thing to encounter. Some further decoration might enhance the specialness of this creature."

Both men were now holding a breast. Her nipples hardened instantly. Goran tried to hold back a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, but she noticed it before it was pulled down. He was enjoying her experience as a piece of meat. Their time together had largely been alone. Cat was experiencing what being a slave in this society was really about. Goran broke the moment and suggested the man have samples for his consideration when they returned.

After turning for the door with Cat submissively following behind, Goran stopped and half turned. He looked into Cat's eyes, then to the man. "You've given me something to think about, though. Can you tell me if there is an ink artist?" The man smiled and gave direction.

As they walked along the path given to them, Goran asked, as if to no one in particular, "Why would you have a collar?"

Cat immediately responded as she had learned of the Horean ways, "To show I am owned."

"What of a collar like that being made for you?"

She had to fight off a smile, "That men would know who my owner is."

"A collar can be removed, though." It wasn't a question. It was something in all this she had maybe pushed out of her mind. As a marked slave, a collar could easily be traded for another. Her downcast eyes almost didn't notice that Goran had stopped and turned toward her. They were standing before another shop. "But ... what of an inked mark?"

He didn't wait for a response. He turned to enter the shop. She had to scramble to follow after the impact of his words hit her. An inked marking would be permanent. The ink isn't decoration or demeaning ... the ink is commitment.