A Barbarian Girl On Gor Ch 09

The creature was almost on top of me, and I had resigned myself to being trampled under its feet when there was a cry, and, to my intense relief it seemed to be pulled up, as if the rider of it were controlling it, as one might control a horse or camel.

It came to a halt just a few feet away from me; in another step or two I would have found myself crushed under its trampling reptilian feet.

I opened my eyes, and whimpered pathetically as I looked up from my position on the ground.

The rider dismounted elegantly. As I had noticed when first seeing the rider upon the animal, both legs had been on the same side of the saddle. Thus the rider had been mounted in a side-saddle fashion.

I deduced therefore that the rider probably was a woman. I say probably, as her garments were concealing and did not particularly reveal the lineaments of her figure. With a feeling of surprise I grasped that in their basic form and even in their colour they were close to those that I wore. Those in which I had been garbed before leaving the house in which I had been previously incarcerated by the gang of vagabonds.

Even her hair, where a few strands escaped from her garmenture, was golden, and approximated to the colour of the crude wig that had been placed upon my own head. She even wore a veil, which item of clothing, I now realised, was that which had been attached to my own mouth; that which covered the voluptuousness of my own lips.

She regarded me; I could see pity and empathy in her eyes. She knelt down beside me, and, said something to me in her language. I did not know what to reply. She produced a small vessel, made of animal hide or some such. She pulled up my veil, and I felt the top of the little bottle pushed between my lips. The sensation of water in my mouth for the first time in days was greatly welcomed. I gulped and sucked eagerly at the bottle. The woman regarded me solicitously. Her eyes were kind and, I realised, very beautiful; additionally they were blue, as were my own.

Behind her I then saw figures. It was two of the gang of vagabonds that had stolen me from the market place. One of them carried a hood such as had been placed upon me when I had been taken from the square to be gang raped and placed in the little cage. I wanted to call out to the girl, she that had solicitously stopped to see how I was, and to give me water. But I could say nothing, the bottle of water in my mouth, my hands tied behind me. I burbled, the water spilling down my chin, trying to warn her of her imminent peril.

I was too late. One grabbed her by the waist and the other pulled the hood over her head. She let out a muffled scream, but it seemed that there was no one around to hear. They tied her, then placed her in a sack, perhaps the very one in which I had been taken.

The sack wriggled and writhed on the ground. They turned their attentions to me. One of them had hold of the reins of the dinosaur. It seemed trained, and despite its appearance had the bearing of a domesticated beast. They undid the knots holding my hands behind my back then, to my shock, I found my limbs tied tightly to the saddle and rigging of the beast. My position was uncomfortable, leaning forward, legs wide, straddling the great beast. The ropes meant that I could not fall from it. There was the crack of a whip, and suddenly, to my intense discomfort, the beast began to run, as it had been when I had first espied it, when I was lying tied upon the ground.

Now I was fastened tightly upon it, bouncing up and down painfully, the rampant beast running to I did not know where, uncontrolled and unsupervised, its fate and my own now interlaced. With every step of its powerful hind legs I was jostled on its back. I screamed loudly as it ran. I was terrified. The ropes binding me on the creature were tight. They were obviously well-tied, as despite the jostling of the beast the knots holding me on the creature held.

I heard further shouting, and saw that to each side of me were further creatures, similar to that upon which I was tied, both being ridden. The riders were garbed in helmets and military clothes. Both were undoubtedly men, and of magnificent build, veritable warriors in physique and bearing. One was now riding alongside me, keeping up the same pace as the beast on which I was riding.

He reached over and grabbed the reins of the beast. He called out loudly. I realised that the beast was slowing down. He called out again; the beast slowed further.

Soon, he had brought it to a halt. I felt a surge of relief. I wondered what might have happened to me; how long I could have survived upon the back of the creature. I felt myself bruised.

The men stepped down from their reined in mounts. One came to investigate more closely and seemed surprised to find that I was tethered in place upon the creature. He asked a question of me. His voice was not of an inflection that I had heard previously here.

Normally a male addressed me in a peremptory tone, barking out a command. His tone however was more conciliatory, more concerned, as if he might be enquiring as to my safety or condition. He began to untie the bonds securing me to the beast. The hair on the wig that I was wearing brushed his hand.

I saw his eyes registering bemusement and surprise as he realised that the hair in contact with his hand was artificial. He looked at me more closely, and called to his fellow. He asked me another question. This time his voice was less pleasant. The other fellow was by him now, and they both regarded me. My eyes must have looked very scared and frightened above the modest veil covering my mouth.

The men exchanged more words. One of them reached for the wig, that of the cheap, artificial material, and gently pulled it. It moved a little on my head. He pulled it further, then removed it from my head, exposing my shortened hair; that which had been cut from me by the recycler in the market place.

The men appeared angrier. They talked to me again, the inflection now that of a curt question. Confused and frightened I uttered the only phrase I knew in their language, the little phrase that I had been taught by rote, "I am a slave girl."

The effect was surprising and instant. Both men shouted crossly, and one of them put his hands to the veil that covered my mouth and neck, ripping it savagely from me. The discarded veil revealed my mouth and also of course, the band around my neck, that which had been placed upon me at the training house.

This seemed to incite them to more anger, and they began to pull now at the modest dress I wore, almost tearing it from me in their haste. Soon I found myself squirming on the ground before them, once more nude. When they saw the circular mark that had been painfully burnt upon my leg, their fury seemed to be provoked still further. They shouted at me repeatedly, and kicked me as I lay sprawled on the ground. I was weeping now, and had stopped using even the small phrase, having discerned that uttering it was not aiding me in my predicament.

One of them hauled me to my feet, supporting me by my arms. The other barked out a statement or question, I did not know which. I shook my head in non-comprehension.I felt the back of his hand, hard across my right cheek, then the flat of his hand on my left cheek. I felt that my teeth would almost be dislodged, such was the power of his open hand.

The barking of questions or commands continued, interspersed with various physical assaults upon my body. At one stage I was punched, viciously, in the solar plexus. I was babbling in English by now, but all, of course, to no effect. The hands that supported me were withdrawn and I slumped to the ground, beaten and terribly dejected.

I wondered if it were their intention to kill me.

Above me they seemed to be discussing my fate, I barely conscious laying nude upon the ground.

Eventually a decision seemed to have been made and I felt myself lifted to one of the beasts. I found myself arched before the saddle upon the beast, the man mounted on the saddle beside me. I was tied firmly in place, but this time there was no pretence that I was riding the beast. I was unequivocally tied as would be a captive, and furthermore a female captive. He spurred the beast to motion. The other man rode behind, guiding the beast upon which I had formerly been tied with a rein.

I was hit no more, but simply ignored, as if I were freight being carried to some destination. I moaned softly, my back painful under the motion of the beast, but secured firmly in place by the bindings on my limbs. Thankfully the journey, though uncomfortable, was not lengthy.

We came to a large building, gated and guarded. A call was made, and then a counter call by the guard riding the beast and we were allowed to pass into the inner courtyard of the building.

I found myself untied by the man and was placed over his shoulder and then taken down some stairs. I was thrown unceremoniously into a small room with no windows. Upon the floor was straw. I heard the door close and then a lock on the outside of the door put in place. The room that I was now in was undoubtedly a cell or dungeon. Once the door was shut the room was thrown into darkness.

I shivered, wondering what was to happen to me now. The room smelt of a musty dampness. It was cold. I shivered in the straw, feeling my bruises from my two contrasting journeys upon the reptilian beasts.

I felt something bite at my nude flesh. I whimpered. My body was bitten again. I brushed at the place where I had been attacked to fend the unseen assailant away. I felt another bite. I got to my feet. Another bite came upon my ankle. I wailed louder. The straw seemed full of little insects, and it seemed that they were hungry. I brushed the straw away with my bare feet, to try and make a little island amidst the straw. I stood in the centre of it, and the attacks upon me diminished. I wondered what it would be to try and sleep in the tiny straw-filled room, the dirty flooring material infested with biting insects. I heard scuttling and rustling.

I am very fearful of "creepie-crawlies". I do not know if this is genetically coded within me, or whether it is a particular fear. In my old life on earth the merest sight of a spider or cockroach or such could turn me into a quivering wreck. Now I found myself in a darkened room, nude and barefoot, sharing it with any number of such beasts. I supposed it could be considered a mercy that I could only hear and feel the scuttling insects that now shared my space, and not see them. However, at least being able to see them might ensure that I could take measures to avoid the tiny animals. As it was, I could only sense their approach, and then feel a sudden surge of fear and revulsion course within me when one suddenly brushed me or bit at my bare foot.

I wrapped my arms around my bare body, trying to keep warm. I wondered with trepidation what would happen to me now. The guards certainly did not seem happy with me, especially when they found out that I was a slave girl. I wondered why this information had annoyed them so. I considered how long I might be kept in the tiny infested cell.

I had been given a brief drink of water by the kindly girl, at least before she had been taken by the gang of men. I was still terribly hungry. I had not been given the opportunity to eat for some days. I had never experienced such hunger. I wondered how long I could survive without food.

I felt another bite at my ankle. An insect had apparently traversed the straw free portion of floor to take a painful bite at my ankle. I sobbed, and stamped my bare foot, hoping that I might squash my tiny assailant. Although I was ostensibly alone in the dark, cold, damp cell, it would seem that I had in fact many tiny cellmates. Cellmates that were obviously hungry, and, like myself, had not had a meal for some considerable interval of time.

I do not know for how long I was kept in the cell, hungry and alone, except for my tiny cellmates. There were no windows so I could not tell whether it were day or night.

Eventually. the guards came for me, two of them. Each grabbed me by an arm and I was frog-marched out of the cell.

We went down a long, gloomy corridor, I being half-led, half-dragged by the two guards. They took me through a door into another room. I gasped as we went into it. From the walls hung chains and whips. There were tables upon which people could be laid. There were other implements of pain on shelves and such. It was lit by torches of flame at intervals around the walls.

It seemed permeated by the smell of fear. Like my tiny cell it had no windows. It had all the trappings of a mediaeval torture chamber. I whimpered with fear as I looked around. Was it their intention to kill me, to torture me to death?

I was led to the centre of the room and chains were attached to my wrists. By a pulley arrangement, the chains were hoisted until I was dangling by my arms, the tips of my toes just touching the flags of the stone floor. I recalled my experiences with Professor Jones and Diogenes. I knew now all too well what was likely to occur when I found myself in such an exposed, vulnerable position, hanging nude, my flesh quivering with fright.

Sure enough I heard the swish of a whip being unfurled. I shuddered, and my bottom lip quivered with fear. One of the men came round to the front of me and spoke. His intonation was that of a question. Of course I had no idea of his words. Tears rolled down my face. I said my little phrase. I heard the swish of the leather and a crack as my back burnt with an indescribable slash of pain.

I spoke in English "Please, please, I don't know what you want! Please don't hurt me any more!"

The man shouted at me again. All I could do was whimper pitifully. Sure enough the whip was once more laid across my body, a line of pain now mingling with the first. I slumped in the chains; my arms and shoulders ached but it was as nothing compared with the pain from the whip.

My head was down now, and I felt the man's fingers at my chin, lifting my head up to meet his eyes. His eyes were harsh, steely grey, with no hint of mercy. It seemed that he was well used to the whipping of girls such as me. I whimpered again in English "Please...please...I don't know what you want to know."

He regarded me curiously, and spoke to me in his language, looking me in the eyes. I whispered again in English "Please, what do you want to know? Please let me know what you want from me."

He grunted, then allowed my chin to fall again to my chest. He barked a curt word of command. I expected to feel again the whip lash my body. To my surprise I felt myself being lowered to the ground. The chains were removed from my wrists. I fell to the floor. I was kicked once or twice in the belly and on my legs, but not, it seemed, with any great degree of malice. I wondered why my punishment had been stopped.

I was once again supported by the two guards and dragged back along the corridor to the tiny damp cell. This time they tied my hands behind me and then threw me within.

I lay on the filthy straw in the blackness. I heard the familiar rustling and scuttling of my tiny cellmates. With my hands tied I was now more than ever at the mercy of their depredations upon my flesh. I squirmed in the straw, trying to crush some of them with my naked body. It would seem that the places where the whip had cut my body held particular attractions to them. No doubt the blood there was as something of the nature of a feast or a delicacy to their insectivorous appetites.

I was in the cell for a long time, battling my tiny insect assailants, writhing in the straw. I wondered whether it were to be my fate to be minutely gnawed to death tiny piece by tiny piece.

Eventually I must have lost consciousness, and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep. I dreamt of the things that had happened to me; the training house with its depending cages, the market place where I had tried and failed to earn my keep, the recycler who had cut my hair, the gang who had stolen me, raped me, and then tied me to a reptilian bipedal beast.

I was kicked awake. I did not know how long had passed but once again two men were there. They escorted me along the corridor as before, each holding an arm, By this juncture I was too weak to walk.

I was thrown into the other room, that with the implements of torture, illuminated by torches on the walls. I was terribly frightened. They dragged me to one of the tables and chained me upon it, each limb to one corner. I heard them leave the room.

I was alone. I groaned on the table, helplessly spreadeagled. Eventually I heard the door open behind me and footsteps come across the stone-flagged floor.

I squirmed on the table and tried to move my head to see who had entered, but I could not.

I heard a voice. A familiar voice. A voice that made my flesh crawl as I was chained, absolutely helpless on the table in the room filled with torture devices.

"Well, my dear. It would seem that our paths cross once more,"

The newcomer came closer to the table and my tear-filled eyes met those of Professor Jones.