Her Capture

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A Gorean slave girl is captured in the city of Ar.
1.7k words
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simply_cyn
simply_cyn
223 Followers

High above the glorious city of Ar with its brightly colored banners and flags that blow in the breeze, a lone tarnsman swirls high above in the clouds in search of a beauty to snatch up and add to his chain of slave girls. Pulling on the five strap of the war bird’s bridle, he sends the huge tarn spiraling downward into a passage between two cylinders to get a closer look at a girl that has begun her long trek across one of the high bridges below.

The girl known as Nalani stepped forth into the bright light of the Gorean day, clad in whispering silk and adorned with golden armlets and bracelets that catch the sun’s rays in a dazzling dance of light. Blinking from the brightness of the morning even as auburn curls are set afire in the bright day, her beautiful features reflexively lift to its warmth. Long lashes flutter closed, unaware of the lurking danger overhead as her bared feet carry the girl over the path of the bridge which she has trod hundreds of times. Unknown to her, the tarnsman overhead begins to drop lower and lower upon the huge war tarn as the girl travels towards the cylinder that hold her Master’s chambers. If she could have detected the silent descent of the bird or caught his wild grin as he expertly dodged tarn wires and guardsmen that surely paroled the gates, she would have run for her life.

The tarnsman secretly smirks as his mind turns to the girl that is nearly his as he kicks the bird to approach her closer at a faster rate, keeping an eye on the red-haired beauty that is the target of his approach. The sun glinting off her jewelry makes her an easy target for his grasp as he loosens the safety sash on the bird. Smiling triumphantly, he hangs a bit off on the right side and reaches down to grab her up in his strong hand.

Inhaling deeply, the girl’s stormy blue eyes open as her bared feet hit that well-known halfway mark across the high archway engraved upon her owned soul. Mink brown eyebrows furrow at the blur in the sky and it is as if she knows what it is yet hesitates in her surprise that a tarnsman has made it this close within the walls of Ar. Suddenly her eyes widen as a reflexive scream surges through her collar throat, her racing heart erupting through the flurry of beautiful tiny feet that race into action. Wild blue eyes look for a retreat but in horror she sees that the doorway is still so far away and tucks as much as she can as she begins to race for her life.

Seeing his quarry at exactly the right point on the bridge, the rider aboard the tarn dives directly towards the girl, knowing she is all but his. Flaring the tarn to a sudden stop that it almost hovers in front of the frightened girl, he plucks her like a ripe fruit for the picking and hauls her belly up and over the saddle, screaming, “Ho!” Hearing his master’s command, the tarn quickly swoops off into the hiding glare of the sun as the raiding warrior tears off the girl’s silks and tosses them into the wind before binding her tightly before him.

The captured girl flails wildly even as she knows instinctively that she is not match for the strong warrior. Silver tears sting sapphire hued eyes that gaze upon the sudden invasion into the only world she has even known. As if it is merely a nightmare from which she can awaken, she is unable to tear her gaze from him. The slave girl trained within coming to life, she can’t help but become excited even within the paralyzing fear that has taken hold of her slender form. Her cries lift into the still air as if time has frozen around her as she feels her beautiful silks give way beneath his forceful hand and the strength of binding fibers that lick deliciously along her captured flesh. Shuddering across his lap upon the mighty bird, her eyes close tightly as her unmarred back is exposed to his scrutinizing gaze and then feels a sudden lurch as they are lifted back into the air. A sudden need to black out suddenly comes over her as the ground begins to rush away.

Steering the bird directly east and past Argentum, her crosses over the Vosk Delta to his home, the Isle of Cos where he dives directly to the ground from the bird’s maximum altitude. Chuckling at the girls piteous screams, he lands and climbs down to pull her along by her flaming red windswept hair and throws her naked form to the ground. Securing a long heavy chain about her throat, a shiver of delight rocking him as the lovely sound of the lock clicking loudly, he holds the opposite end in one hand as he cuts her bindings free. As he kicks her away from him a little, a snarl of triumph proclaims his will upon her. “Dance kajira!”

Nalani cries out as her tender flesh is thrown harshly to the ground, lifting her chin in defiant insolence. Blue eyes flash in anger that he has taken her from the only world that she has known and degraded her in such a way as if she was nothing more than a beast. Her now nude form heaves with the pent-up rage that bubbles up along with the fear that she can feel licking along her bared spine. But she obeys in frightful disdain, stretching upwards as the weathered chain licks along her tempered flesh like a thousand tongues of fire. The girl’s slender fingers wrap reflexively around the coarse steel fit for an animal and tugs harshly in her futile attempt to rip it from his hands. The need to flee from him is over-powering as she clings to the defiance that has sustained this far.

Walking slowly to where the girl has stretched upwards, he leans over, still grasping the chain and with the other hand slips between the chain and her throat to lift her to her full height upon dainty feet. Then with a grin that sends a ripple of apprehension down her spine, shoves the girl backwards before taking a step back to look upon her succulent form. Extending the space between them until she is at the length of the chain that dangles from her neck, he notes how its weight causes her to sink heavily into the sand of the pit before him. The chain’s opposite end, held firmly in his right hand, is suddenly but not gently jerked, causing her to stumble towards him a few feet.

Feeling her body lurch towards him, she senses his wordless command to dance for his pleasure. It reverberates in every movement. The end of the chain ever so slowly pulls the wanton slut closer to him, as if she is his newly acquired prize. Every yank brings her deliciously closer to him but then she leans back, the chain wrapping around her slender waist. Pulling the links tight an inch, then two more, she adds length as she begins to dance in a futile attempt to gain more ground. But even as she plots her escape, a slow ache begins to build within as she dares to momentarily look into his eyes.

He smiles and digging his heels into the sand, begins a rapid succession of pulling the girl to him. Hand over hand; he pulls three long arm lengths of chain to him, dragging her closer, watching as her fiery curls bound and sway. He grins as she futilely fights the confinements that pull but even more so, the longing that begins to rise in her slave belly. Her hair reflects the setting sun beautifully as she is pulled closer to his strong form.

A soft cry is released but the girl is confused. Chained beast that she is, she is so unsure if her confusion stems from fear or if, in fact, from a desperate need to be closer to him. Cold steel bites into tender flesh as a crescendo begins to build in the heaving beat of her heart, much like that of a kaska drumming out her ultimate surrender. Her breath begins to grow ragged as dark blue eyes fall upon the power in his strong hands that controls the chain pulling her closer. She can’t help but notice the contrast between sweet heated flesh and the cold steel that claims her captive. Slowly, but purposefully, he pulls her closer with only a few feet left of the cold chain between them. Weaving the links through his fingers, he manipulates her closer and closer, watching with a smile as she has no choice but to submit to her natural fate.

The girl can feel her defiance begin to fade as he draws her closer, her mind beginning to close out all around her but him. Rushing hot from sweet lips, her breath comes in heated pants as the coils of his chain suddenly wrap around her heart. Lifting blue eyes in a haze of confused passion, the beat of the drums penetrate even as they mimic her slave heart that thumps in wild protest within her heaving chest. The wanton slave grows restless before him in the surrender of glistening chains that wane in contrast to the desire that pounds through every movement … every inch of stretching sinewy flesh.

And then with one last yank that spirals the dancing girl to her knees before him, he stares down in unbridled lust over the slave girl sprawled before him. His smile becomes triumphant as she assumes the position of the pleasure slave, silken thighs blossoming wide before him even as a tremble snakes down her spine. He weaves the chain more around his fingers as she prepares to submit, sitting back as her willowy arms lift above her wild windswept auburn hair to cross delicately at her dainty wrists. As her voice lifts upwards in a husky caress, he is assured that she is, indeed, his. “La kajira, Master … your kajira.”

simply_cyn
simply_cyn
223 Followers
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Andromeda7Andromeda7almost 13 years ago

Nice story , I enjoyed being back in glorious Ar for a while.

AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
Gor IS not fair - and not an excuse.

Since Gor is not fair, this story is not fair, and people are therefore free to not like it. And a "Gorean" not seeing her/his own lifestyle as a kink is not really very meaningful anyway. I for one do not hope for this to become normal again.

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
Gor Is Not Fair.

Gor is Gor. This is an excellent story, and fits properly in Science Fiction/ Fantasy and Non-consent. BDSM is iffy, as for a Gorean, fictional or Lifestyler, this is not a kink. This is what normal used to be. This is what normal could be again, if men and men's women act with courage to make it so. And if SF/F readers expect their stories to be entirely from the People's Republic of Egalitaria, they should know there are some who find this to be displeasing, and seek to expand the parameters of SF/F. The title alone should have told them that this story is not their cup of bazi tea, and Gorean tags should drive the point home. If a story has Gor, Gorean or Kajira tags, then be Gorean or be gone.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
rape??? yeah right

first of all, how can this be rape as the girl is never physically molested by the Master??

second of all, this is a Gorean based story...therefor, it is Sci-Fi/Fantasy...

this could even conceivably be considered a Gorean slave "dance" for online presentation, depending on how one looks at it.

wonderfully well written story....would love to see more!!!

a gorean kajira in training

AnonymousAnonymousover 19 years ago
"Gor" _Is_ SF/Fantasy.

Works set on Gor _are_ Science Fiction/Fantasy, and so are as entitled to be here as on any other category. BDSM is also not inappropriate, but SF/F is _quite_ appropriate for this story. Science Fiction and Fantasy are about expanded possibilities. One takes a risk that that expansion might take one past their limits. If one can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen!

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