La Kajira

But more enjoyably was the visual of the two people in the room with us. The man from before had a slighter build, in the same way as my Master and with the same unforgiving strength in his features. and he sat on a chair by the bondage rack as if perfectly at home. His hazel eyes were the kind of warmth that invited and enticed and, up close, his shoulder length hair added this touch of wildness to his image, the only touch of it he really had. His slave sat at his knees and she looked up with the same kind of excitement on her face that I felt. She wore a mirror image of the shift styled dress I wore, except hers was red, and she had a slender band of a collar on over top of what I thought must have been her real collar. That first one, too, seemed as if it was made to be part of an atmosphere and a charm hung from hers, where mine was without that. Bells formed an anklet for her like I had and she had a kef symbol in marker on her thigh. Even her pose was a slave girl's pose, though not one from the book. She sat gracefully, with her legs tucked sideways beneath her.

And there was a yellow lily barrette in her hair. "A talender!" I squealed it and the man above her laughed.

"Oh, God, there's two of them."

"Uh huh!" His slave looked so excited over the fact. "It was something private for him, at first, when we dated."

"That's the most romantic thing I've ever seen and heard!" I skipped at Master's side and he paused to smile at me, a kind of happiness in his features, basic and joyful. "May I hug you, please?"

His eyes danced with the question, even if I wasn't even thinking of the words or what I was doing. "Of course you can." It made it all the better and I couldn't have put into direct words why he needed a hug at that moment, but he did and I awkwardly lifted my tethered hands to his chest, pressing against him in facsimile of a hug, breathing in his scent when I buried my nose in his shoulder. It was only later that I would have been able to put it into words, that I wanted to hug him then because it was the nearest and dearest expression of gratitude I had for that moment, for how he gave me that moment when it was pure fantasy, for how he wasn't even trying to make dreams come true except for his own and being close to who he was as a person gave me moments like that one. "Brave girls often receive rewards merely by proxy, dear heart," he said softly when he drew away, touching my chin with the whip again. And that time I nuzzled it, enjoying the fact that my tied wrists ensured I had no way to keep the hug when he was done. "Come here and let me introduce you. This is Christopher and Deirdre."

He fixed a chair to sit across from Christopher at a strange table setup that was obviously makeshift and I eagerly curled up on my knees where I knew my place in that picture so clearly was. Right across from Deirdre in a mirror of her pose. "I'm so happy."

She laughed and her face glowed with this kind of basic pleasure that made me want it, what she had that gave her that. Master had said that Christopher chose everything down to what she ate and when she ate it. "You should be. Master has played all kinds of games here when training different slaves and uses his own slave to help, but no one else has gotten the talender reference. And look at you. White silk!" Her eyes glowed while her Master watched us with a wry smile. "This is the first to see someone play white silk fantasies."

"Deirdre, speak freely for the rest of the night, baby," Christopher said softly above her, watching me curiously.

"Yes, Sir."

I blushed, biting my lip and looking away from Christopher, trying to cover up the reality of the real reason why that fantasy had turned into a thing for the night, when it didn't really matter, but he made a low sound anyway, still watching me. I curled up closer to my Master, but his eyes were soft when I looked up at him. He winked while Christopher spoke. "Now that... is fascinating."

Master looked down, stroking my hair. "Like you said. It wasn't about the sex. That was just part of it, in the end. And there really was only one person whose approval mattered, which wasn't mine or yours."

Christopher stood up, so that Master watched him and then I tilted my head curiously with his next action. Because he retrieved a lanyard from a duffel bag to the side and used the key on it at the lock connecting the chain at Master's throat. "Leave it to you, as much as you're into romantic drama even more than me, to go absolutely as overboard as you possibly could in proving yourself."

Master touched his throat, as if curious at the sensation of that chain not being there, and then hesitated. "I-" He cut off. "Are you..." But whatever the rest of that was didn't seem to be to his liking, either. He finally seemed to settle on, "Thank you," in a very strange voice.

Christopher shook his head and then looked to me with a playful gaze that made me grin. "A virgin," he said, so that I laughed. "He enticed a virgin into the heaviest end of kink relationships. It's not like it's fucking cat play or, I don't know, a light one time control scene. No, no, this is the all out 'slaves are livestock or less than animals' brand of full on slavery and he wants it as real as can get and adds real life white silk play on top of it. And you want to know why I know that should come off, Nathan?" Master blinked, then nodded shyly. "Because you're so much you, in that weird way of honor obsession that my first reaction wasn't even doubt. Literally anyone else, I would have had some wild questions and concerns." He laughed a little. "And I didn't have any. White knight. White silk. Why not?"

It was Deirdre who took over in asking me questions, something that seemed planned in advance and that made me wonder at her Master's command to speak freely. Her voice turned quiet and soothing, in a protective way that made any last residual fear fall away when she directed it to me. "So you got to see everything when you walked back here, right?"

I smiled and nodded. We went back and forth, after I glanced up at Nathan in a search for his approval, which he gave readily, and I talked softly about the whip scene. Deirdre grinned and said, "That's Jackson and Essie. She wanted to try exhibitionism play and he likes making a scene." She asked me what I thought of everything so far and I answered with happiness because it was wonderful, even if I said I didn't think I could do most of the kinks just on my own. She asked about that too, quietly questioning, "You wouldn't want to try anything?"

To which I answered, before I could think about the words and what they were, "Not without Nathan. I want to do what he wants. I trust him."

Because it was true, even when Deirdre quietly spoke of other types of play or of how people sometimes only wanted games, saying that people like Christopher and Nathan didn't like the thought of these things being games. She said there were a lot of people, for instance, that started out with things like pet play and then she winked and added, "I like to play a cat." She talked of being made to meow while I grinned at why that would probably be fun for someone to do and I definitely understood why someone would want to be pet all over. She was careful with these conversations, I would realize later.

See, she didn't focus on the sexual aspect of them, something I would later think of as really clever with what she knew about me. She focused more on the feeling of giving up control, just asking questions, making suggestions. "You really could try some of them, you know. I know what it's like to be surrounded by all this for the first time is why I want to make sure that it's clear."

My first thought was that her speech had changed after Christopher's command, although I couldn't place my finger on the exact nature of that change. It was just something different, some undercurrent that was not the same anymore and it had been like that. I had to think away from the extremely arousing distraction and focus on her words.

And then I realized that there was a reason why this offer was being given to me from someone like Deirdre, when she was someone I would naturally enjoy and feel happy with, when she knew a book series that I was starting to love. It was because Nathan and Christopher knew submissives by then and they knew that another slave or submissive would be someone less intimidating, someone who would make me feel safe enough to maybe agree, if I was ever going to. It was the gentle atmosphere that, if I had any other curiosities, I would have definitely taken the chance with what I knew about Nathan and the games he wanted to play.

But I didn't have a one. I curled closer to his knee, laying my head against him. "I know and thank you, but I don't want to. I just want this fantasy."

Christopher finished the conversation by looking at Master. "Are you satisfied?"

He stared down at me and his eyes were fire. "You really want this? You really want to be my slave?"

"Yes, Master." I wanted it all the more after seeing Deirdre at Christopher's side, especially with the knowledge that he had just used her, even then, to ask these questions of me. It was one of my favorite thoughts about Gor, how slaves weren't just for pleasure and sex. Kajirae served in any way to please, meaning that any skill they had was something for them to better serve their Master. Other sources, I would later learn, called them "tools to be used" and I didn't so much like that turn of phrase, for obvious reasons with the sound of it. That phrasing just didn't fit with how Nathan acted, even while it was accurate. It was the correct idea with the completely incorrect spirit, if that makes sense.

I loved it and this place was getting to me with those ideas in my mind. I think the real truth about it all was that I found myself as in love with Nathan as he was with me and that made the real fuel behind the fantasy. His desires were so built into his character that he had decorated rooms in his house after this. It fit him, as part of who he was. So, while I probably wouldn't have been kinky in other ways, that bondage bed was making me all the more aroused with thoughts of giving up that level of control to someone like him, when he was like a rock of strength.

I stood when he tugged me by my still tethered wrists and he smiled with me. And then I shivered when he unlocked the chastity belt. "Little white silk."

"W-what are you-"

"Trust me," he answered softly. "Kajirae don't question." He finished unlocking the chastity belt, while I had the thought that it had only been on for a short time and that I appreciated the fact he had apparently only added it to create a dramatic image, one that was like the white silk slaves in the House of Cernus.

I stared up at him with a heightened sense of fear, swallowing, but the truth was I did trust him. And I'd known what I was signing up for. "No, no. I'll soothe some of your fear. It's not the whole thing, but being a kajira is extremely sexual and I haven't iterated that part very much. I didn't want to mislead is all and I want you to feel some of that touch before I ask you again."

"Yes, Master." I shifted when he had me unlocked, when he studied the mess I'd made on his chastity belt, glancing at me with a kind of amusement that made me shiver. My world turned a little hazy and I had that prickling, delightful sensation across my skin again, the kind that went with waiting for his commands, so I could please him. He held the rope end that went up to my wrists and stood close to me, but not quite touching me. His eyes made it easier, too, made me smile shyly, even though I'd blushed furiously with his studying the amount of cum I'd poured. "I'm sorry. I really like this place and I like this feeling. It's like floating, kind of, and it makes me feel happy and turned on when you tell me I'm brave."

He chuckled, keeping me distracted from Christopher and Deirdre, which wasn't hard with the amount of shock and nerves the thought gave me of getting more sexual with this. "There's a word for that headspace," he said softly and his eyes didn't give me a single hint.

The whip handle made me shout, made me burn and it wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before. I sobbed at the end of a low cry, falling against Nathan's arm while he watched. It wasn't even a sex toy, but it was so much for that one moment, cumulative from how he'd let me sleep in that room of his with his own whip hanging on the wall, up to how it felt when he used another of his own to lift my chin, up to how good it felt to please him, up to the books. It was everything, all at once, with the stroke of a whip handle over my pussy and I quaked in his arms, riding the handle where Christopher manipulated it, placing one hand on the back of my shoulder in a control hold. "A Slaver's Caress," Christopher said softly, "is much more effective when it takes a little kajira by surprise."

"Oh, my God, please!" I stared up at Nathan and his eyes were calm and easy, detached from the sight of me in any sexual sense, even while there was a great deal of attention and care with them. "Please, it hurts!"

"Good girl." Those words only made it worse, when that sensation of ecstasy across my skin felt like it had broken into a fire that I didn't think would ever be sated. "We like little responsive slaves and their desire. It makes you rather easy to control. You want me to fix that need?"

"Yes, please, Master, please." I was whimpering and I couldn't stop, even when Christopher pulled away from me.

"Good little kajira. You please me first. It's part of a slave's life that you please your Master and he takes care of you and every need you have. On your knees." I practically fell when he pressed on my shoulders, knowing where this was going, and dying a little for it to get there. His hand was a stern circle over my collar, clasping my throat in a way that made me feel like an animal. I watched when he unbuttoned his jeans, when he fitted himself with a condom, and then opened my mouth so fast that he chuckled. "Good girl." I felt a little bit of fear with the thought of how big he was, when I wasn't sure how good I would be at this, but there was one thing for certain.

I wasn't thinking about being scarred or any of the rest. I was just burning, craving to please my Master, to hear more of that praise when he was so kind about giving it, when I knew it was true and it was earned because he didn't lie. And then Deirdre grasped my hair and I moaned because I knew. I knew what she was.

First girl.

"Open wider for him. They'll train your mouth with a ring gag if they have to." I didn't want him to have to do that, but it turned me on with the thought that I could either please my Master or he would train me to do it, that he wouldn't let me get away with failure. I obediently opened wider, whimpering, and then moaned eagerly when he filled my mouth.

Master was kind, too, and he went slowly, inch by inch, letting me adjust. I gagged a little on him and then had to make myself swallow. His hand was soft in my hair and the rope end of my bound wrists was tugged, keeping my wrists above me, so that I purred happily, taking him as best I could, breathing through my nose. That wonderful headspace was intense, so intense, and I never wanted to leave it, not if this was what went with serving. "Good girl." He made a low growl of a sound over me, the kind that made my heart sing when it was animal with his pleasure. "Don't worry, I know that gag reflex will give you problems for a while. If you still want to be my slave, I'll train it out of you." I moaned, toes curling, and my mind was numb, but I was in ecstasy. He laughed over me in delighted depravity and I realized that this side of him was part of what he'd been trying to warn me from, but I only loved him all the more for it. "You'll get used to toys of all sizes and I think you'll love them sooner rather than later, when every turn with one is practice to better serve Master."

He pulled out of my mouth so that my lips stayed parted for a second before I even realized it and swallowed. "Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

"Good girl." There was something of an exhilarated coo in his voice and he filled my mouth again while I closed my eyes, feeling starved. I had begged, had told him I felt so empty and it thrilled me that he was filling me up in a different way. I worked on him, thinking that I was grateful to him for having done this in the way he did it. Because I wouldn't have loved it as much as I did if not for the careful emotional build he'd given, the gentle assurances and conversations of how forward he was about the kind of relationship he wanted. I think that mental headspace of feeling so much pleasure in pleasing him would have terrified me, actually.

As it was, I only surrendered to it happily, knowing that he would take care of me and that he had me. "Jesus Christ, Missy," he growled over me and I whimpered, Deirdre pressing me forward in a rocking rhythm and by then, I was sucking his cock far easier, taking him deeper and deeper. "That's it, let Deirdre guide you. She's been a slave for a little while now and you obey a first girl, understood?" I couldn't answer but it didn't matter. I showed I understood by being a good slave and obeying when Deirdre forced me forward, even if I choked harder on him, even if it hurt a little bit. But then I gasped eagerly, feeling a strange hunger when she let me up for air, because it was all the better that it did hurt, that it wasn't easy to serve him. It made me feel this rush at having succeeded and I purred greedily, taking him again when he filled my mouth and that time he fucked in and out of me.

I arched, crying out around him when I felt his release, wishing I could enjoy it in full without the condom. And he made it obvious when he did finish because he grabbed my head and pumped inside of my mouth, hissing in ecstasy above me. Thrills shot through me, the kind that I instantly wanted more of, when he was so vocal about his praise and when it came with obvious amounts of pleasure, when he was so controlled that this moment where he let his control go made me burn.

I pant slightly when he let me up and then lifted like a doll when he tugged me to my feet. "Good girl." He cooed it and I cuddled into his arm, feeling warm, so warm, in that way that was almost frightening again. See, it was such an intense rush to please him that it made me well aware of how far I would go to do it, because the sound of his pleasure with me was better than orgasm even, so much so that if he told me to give up orgasm for a time, I'd have done it. And that was something that was terrifying or would have been.

Except for how much trust I had in him. I moaned in his arm when he used the handle of his own whip and it was no offense to Christopher, but when my Master held the whip it was even better. He worked the handle and he wasn't even filling me with it, another thing that made me whimper when I realized that it was quite deliberate for him to keep me empty and virginal, because he merely slid the handle between the lips of my sex, twisting his wrist to massage me. "That's it, good girl. You want to cum for Master?"

"Yes, please, Master." And my voice was breathless.

"You'll cum from the whip, then, and why is that? Answer me out loud."

"Because la kajira!" I yelped it, knowing the answer he wanted, feeling so happy to get to give that answer.

Because la kajira. Because I'm a slave girl.

"That's right. If you keep saying yes through tonight, then that's what you are." He turned the handle, stroking me in a rapid motion, so much bliss from the action that my world started to blur around the edges of my vision. I bowed my head and that felt even better, then held onto him tighter, desperately, then-