A Paga Girl on Gor

I stood alone in the small room, nervously listening for the footsteps of my Mistress.

I felt very apprehensive, somewhat akin to a naughty schoolgirl awaiting her Headmistress's appearance to decide upon measures of discipline appropriate to a wayward pupil. I thought back to my days at the expensive European finishing school that I had attended. I had always been a 'good girl', and not often found myself in hot water, so the prospect of standing, anticipating whatever punishment was to be meted out, was still a novel one for me.

Yes, I thought, that is all that is in prospect; just a curt admonishment and a peremptory command to do better in future. Just as if I were nothing more than a naughty schoolgirl. I tried to convince myself that this was the case, and that I had nothing greatly to fear.

However, my current circumstances were that I was barefoot, my hands bound behind me, wearing only a collar and a tiny yellow garment, too short to adequately cover me, my face strewn with dried male sexual discharge, to the extent that I could not fully open one of my eyes.

I felt it unlikely that a schoolgirl, however naughty, would find herself in such a predicament, no matter how wayward she had been.

I wondered what might happen to me.

It could hardly be said to be my fault that my customer had fallen asleep whilst taking his pleasures upon me. After all, I had seemingly pleased him adequately enough with my lips and tongue. Indeed, pleased him to the extent that he had released those sticky juices currently sprinkled liberally upon my face and hair. Surely, it was hardly my to my own detriment then, that drunk as he undoubtedly was, he had endeavoured upon a further session of pleasure upon my body, this time to find his stamina somewhat short of the task in hand.

I rehearsed these arguments in my head, with the intention of using them in mitigation against my Mistress's presumed disapprobation. Part of me thought that this would be somewhat unwise, and that however unfair the position in which I found myself, my most piteous protests would count for little, if anything, in the overall judgment of my Mistress. This part of me, perhaps the more submissive part, concluded that I should be better off simply accepting any sanctions that might be applied to me, rather than perhaps risking an escalation of the situation by protesting its inequity.

However, in prospect, I suspected, were not the petty retributions that might be due an errant schoolgirl. I had been told that perceived infractions could lead to amercements up to and including being cut up and fed to ravenous beasts. Indeed, I had been given a name that reflected the potentialities of this particular outcome. Surely then, I owed it to myself to protest my case to the uttermost?

I shivered again, torn between these alternate possibilities. I had to make my own case. I had to try to point out the injustice of it all. I was a woman of earth. I could not let them simply extirpate me without at least protesting my innocence in the matter.

I heard footfall, and the door behind me opened.

I did not turn about, but remained looking ahead, trying to conceal my apprehension as my Mistress and Tupp came round before me.

My Mistress regarded me, then pointed downwards.

Immediately I knelt, with as much grace as I could muster, given that my hands were bound behind me. I was again faced with the dilemma of whether to split my knees, or keep them together. I decided, in deference to my Mistress, not to part them, assuming that Tupp, who was, after all, only a slave like myself, did not of himself justify that my legs be divaricated.

I put my head down, staring at the slippers of my Mistress.

"So, Sleenmeat," she said, "What have you to say for yourself?"

I swallowed hard.

I had imagined, earlier, that my Mistress would have laid out the case against me, leaving me to decide whether or not to contest it. Now she had, it seemed, decided to allow me to make my own case. I had to be brave and protest my innocence; not allow my accusers to simply presume me at fault.

"I am sorry, Lady Draca, my Mistress," I said, "I beg forgiveness for my failure, Lady Draca my Mistress."

I trembled, my eyes down. My courage had failed me, and rather than putting forth any evidence in my own defence, I had simply thrown myself upon my Mistress's mercy. I had not possessed sufficient fortitude to do otherwise.

There was silence, save for Tupp's heavy breathing.

"I see, so you freely admit that your efforts in pleasing your customer were so inadequate that he fell asleep?"

"Yes, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

"Why did you not wake him, so that you might attempt to strive try to please him in a more worthwhile manner than simply serving as his mattress?"

"I tried, Lady Draca, my Mistress, but I could not. He seemed extremely tired, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

I had wanted to say 'drunk', and at least make a small point in my own defence, but again I did not have the temerity to do so.

"How did you try?"

"I bit the hairs of his chest, Lady Draca, my Mistress, and wriggled as best I could beneath him, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

It did not sound much, I had to admit to myself.

"You wriggled a bit, did you?" she said, "Did you not consider kicking him, or biting his ear? Do you not know that you are meant to please the customer quickly, and then return to the floor to serve others? There were at least two other Masters awaiting your reappearance, and we are always short of alcoves. There were customers kept waiting because of you."

Her words seemed so unfair. How could I bite his ear? I could not reach him, trapped as I was under his much heavier body. And kicking or biting a Master did not seem like the behaviour of a slave.

"Yes, Lady Draca, my Mistress. Please forgive me, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

I heard her sigh, impatiently.

I trembled, looking at the floor.

"Well, Tupp, what do you think we should do with her? It seems that she is not up to serving in the alcoves."

"Her cleaning also left much to be desired," said the malevolent voice of the misshapen dwarf.

I gasped. How unwarranted was that accusation, after all my work in the scullery!

"A lot of barbarians are worthless when they first start out, of course. Remember the last work slave," he continued.

I was grateful to my Lord and Overseer at least for the words 'when they first start out'. It implied perhaps that there might be a future for me, and that I might be permitted a chance to try to get better.

"Yes, but she is already on her last chance," said the other, "She was sent to us because she failed in her training. It seems that she is basically useless."

I was unable to stifle a sob.

"Well," said Tupp, "the fluids on her body show that she was pleasing, at least for a while. Perhaps other uses might be found for her."

I was desperately grateful to him for making this point on my behalf.

"Hmm...well... I suppose we should try to think of other uses. I suppose the sex fluids on her face mean something, but we obviously can't trust her in the alcoves. I will have to think about it."

I was thankful then for the dried discharge splattering my face. Ironically it was there, of course, because of my ineptitude, because I had been shocked when the Master had suddenly and copiously spurted his seed, and had, in my clumsiness, let him briefly escape my mouth. Had I been more accomplished, I would likely have succeeded in swallowing all of his seed, and there would have been no outward evidence that I had afforded him pleasure.

"You hear that, Sleenmeat? Tupp and the cum on your face have saved you for the time being. Are you grateful?"

"Yes, Lady Draca, my Mistress. Thank you, Lady Draca my Mistress," I said.

I suppose that I was grateful that I was not to be fed to ravenous animals, at least for the time being.

"We will try to think of something else for you to do, but in the meantime, there is the matter of your punishment."

"Yes, Lady Draca, my Mistress. Thank you, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

It would seem that I was still going to be punished, despite it being established that I had to some extent fulfilled my purpose and pleased the Master assigned to me.

"Very well. Firstly, I think that you have shown that you are beneath all the other slaves here in ability and worth. Thusly, from now on, you are to address all slaves as 'Master' or 'Mistress'. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lady Draca, my Mistress. Thank you, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

"Secondly, you have shown yourself unworthy of being kept here, so henceforth you can no longer expect to have us provide your needs. Do you understand me?"

I did not really comprehend what she meant. I shook my head slightly, and murmured as softly as I could, "N-not really, Lady Draca, my Mistress."

"Well, I am not wasting any more of my money on you. To begin with, I am not prepared to provide you with clothing. Unclothe her, Tupp."

The dwarf untied the disrobing loop of my tiny sleeveless dress, and it fell to the floor leaving me nude apart from the collar about my neck.

"You will no longer be fed or watered, but will have to fend for yourself in the matter of such provisions."

"Y-yes, Lady Draca, my Mistress," I stammered.

Being nude was bad enough, but how was I meant to fend for myself? Was I going to have to steal food? Or simply starve slowly to death? I wondered what I was supposed to do.

"And you will no longer have the privilege of living under my shelter. From now on, when you are not working, you will be chained outside in all weathers."

I gasped.

"Finally, when the tavern opens tonight, I will personally punish you in front of the staff and customers, to make an example of you"

I wept.

"Take her and chain her out in the yard, Tupp."

"You do not want her cleaning again today?" asked Tupp, with a hint of disappointment in his voice, I thought.

"No," she said, "Take the worthless beast from my sight and put her in one of the beast cages, That might teach her her place a bit. I will see you later for your punishment, Sleenmeat," she said, "In the meantime, enjoy the pleasures of your new home, as you will no longer be permitted to live under my roof."

I was conducted from her presence by my Lord, Overseer, and now, additionally, Master.

I was taken out into the yard, that which contained the pump, that from which I had spent much of my first day laboriously drawing water.

He took me to the cage of that great grunting beast that had frightened me on the first occasion that I had ventured out into the yard. He opened the door thereto, and thrust me inside, despite my sobbing protestations.

"Enjoy your new home, slut," he said, "Watch out for your roommate though, he don't like sharing his cage much."

I struggled to my knees and went to the bars.

"Please, Master," I wept, "Put me in the other cage!"

I knew that the other cage contained the birds, somewhat like pigeons, and was in a much cleaner state.

"Foolish barbarian. They would probably peck you to pieces. You are safer in here."

"Yes, Master," I wept.

It seemed that I was to share a cage with the giant grunting beast. The cage was about nine feet by six feet, and about four feet in height. It seemed hardly large enough for the beast on its own, let alone with me also added to its contents. Too, the cage was far from pristine, and smelt. There were bars around all sides, some muddied and so on. The floor was covered in planks, on which had been piled dirty straw. I looked around apprehensively. The beast was glowering at me, as if caught between surprise and hostility, that it should suddenly find a companion in its cage.

I cowered against the bars, wondering if it would attack me. It was similar to a huge, hairy, wild boar, with large fangs pointing upwards from its lower jaw. It was large enough, I thought, to crush me if it so desired. Given the dimensions of the cage, even pressing my nude body to the bars so that I was the furthest possible distance from it, I was only about two or three feet from those horrendous tusks. It could gore me in an instant.

It grunted, somewhat irritably, but went back to feeding from the trough on its side of the cage. It was, at least at present, docile.

I remained close against the bars, and put my legs under me into a sitting position. Given the dimensions of the cage, I could not, in any case, stand upright. The beast seemed content to gorge from its trough. I supposed that it was being fattened up for slaughter. It seemed to ignore me as it fed, and my fear began to subside. The sun came through the bars of the roof, and I tried to get in a comfortable enough position leaning against the bars to fall asleep. Given the state of the straw on the floor, I did not want to sleep on it, plus doing so might have brought me closer to the beast, and increased my risk of being crushed by it. Yet I was so tired.

The worst aspects were the smell, which was still in my nostrils, the various insects that were flying about the cage, no doubt attracted by the contents therein, and tiny scurrying beasts that I now discovered infesting the straw.

Despite the conditions I must have dozed off, because I was awakened by the poking of a stick into my arm. I saw there outside the bars Tela and another girl, blonde and blue-eyed, like myself.

"Hello, Sleenmeat," said Tela, who of course had been the one that had poked me, "What are you doing in there?"

"I...I...the Mistress decided to put me in here," I stammered.

"Oh," she said, and I thought that she was suppressing a smirk, "Have you been put in there to mate with Heracles?"

"H-Heracles?" I stammered.

She smiled sweetly, "Your cage-mate. I think you would make a good match. So long as he didn't fall asleep of course."

I blushed, furiously. It seemed that she was well acquainted with what had occurred. I looked down not wanting to answer her.

The other girl spoke, "You are probably lucky, I do not think he is in rutting season at the moment. He will be docile if he has enough to eat."

"Perhaps," said Tela, a little crossly, I thought.

"I expect Mistress will let you out soon," said the other.

I heard Tela sigh.

"Alright Tuka, thank you, I was talking to the barbarian."

"Yes, Tela," said Tuka.

"So are you comfortable in there?" asked Tela.

"Not particularly," I answered, "Do you think Mistress will soon let me out?"

I addressed this latter to the other girl, who seemed more sympathetic to my plight.

I felt another poke with the stick.

"Remember to call us 'Mistress', Sleenmeat," said Tela, "Otherwise you will be punished."

"Yes, Mistress," I replied quietly. It seemed that Tela was well informed on the structure of my various punishments. I wondered again what made her so hostile to me.

"I hear that Mistress is planning a new name for you," said Tela.

"Yes, Mistress?" I asked. I thought it would be good to have a new name. "Yes," said Tela, "You will be known as Sleeping-Furs."

She laughed, no doubt pleased with her joke. I saw the other girl laugh also, but more so as if she thought it best to do as Tela did, rather than through any particular malice.

"It will be as Lady Draca, my Mistress, decides, Mistress," I replied, quietly.

In truth I did not mind the potential new name too much. I was quite aware of the reference, which I suppose on earth would translate to something like 'Mattress', specifically a name implying that I was something for sleeping on, but it was preferable, I felt, to Sleenmeat. I wondered whether this was indeed Lady Draca, my Mistress's intention, or whether it was simply Tela teasing me a little. In any case, she, seeing that I was not greatly hurt me with this reference, simply poked me again with the stick.

"I have to go and practice my new routine," she said, "And it smells too much here. Good luck, Sleeping Furs."

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied, simply. It seemed like most of her type, if she couldn't hurt she soon got fed up with trying.

The other blonde girl stayed behind.

"Don't worry too much about Tela," she said, "She can be unpleasant, but she won't dare to hurt you."

"Thank you, Mistress," I said.

"I am Tuka," said the girl, "I come from the north. Do you come from the north?"

"Not really," I said. I suppose, I did come from the north, but north on another planet. I did not think that was what Tuka was asking, "I am a barbarian."

"Oh," said Tuka, "I thought something like that, from your accent."

"Oh," I said, "Thank you. Are you a dancer too?"

"No," said Tuka, "Just a paga slut, I hope to be trained as a dancer some day though, how about you? Is it true that a Master fell asleep in the alcoves using you?"

"Yes," I sighed a little, "But he was very drunk."

"Still," said Tuka, "It doesn't look very good on the tavern does it? Don't they teach you to please men in Barbarian Land?"

I reflected on this.

"No," I answered, "No. They don't really."

"Oh dear," answered Tuka, "And yet they pierce your ears?"

"Yes," I said. I wanted to change the conversation. Tuka seemed friendly enough, but her questioning was annoying.

"May I ask you what the writing says on your dress?" I queried.

She looked pleased.

"Well," she said, "I cannot read, of course. but I have been told that it says...errr..."

Here she thought a bit.

"Yes," she went on, "The top line says 'Juicy Pudding'."

As she said this, her hand pointed at the symbols higher on her dress.

"And the bottom line says 'One serving'. It is clever isn't it? It could mean One Serving at the Juicy Pudding, or it could just mean 'One Serving Of Juicy Pudding. Lady Draca thought of it, I think. All the dresses are the same, though she has said she might get some new ones if we do well. She is very kind."

I smiled a little. Such had not been my experience. At least I now knew what it said on the dress, although I did not think the information was particularly useful, as it turned out. Especially I had been told that I would no longer be permitted clothing. Still, I had shown myself that I could glean information when I wanted to.

"Thank you, Tuka," I said, "I had asked Lady Draca and she hadn't told me."

The blonde's face darkened a bit. "Oh, then you shouldn't have asked me," she said, "The Mistress did not want you to know. Now I will get into trouble if she finds out I told you. You tricked me."

"Don't worry, Tuka," I replied, "I won't tell her."

The other scowled.

"I think you are meant to call me 'Mistress'," she said, less pleasantly.

"Yes, Mistress," I answered.

She went away. She had been friendly, but now it seemed that I had alienated her with my stupid behaviour. Why had I felt the need to tell her that Lady Draca had not divulged the information regarding the dress? I had been so foolish.

I watched Tuka disappear into the house. She was blonde and blue eyed, certainly, but whereas my figure was well-proportioned, hers was spectacular. I did not doubt that she would well please the tavern's guests in the alcoves. She was incredibly beautiful and voluptuous, and yet had referred to herself, routinely it seemed, as a 'paga slut'.

I wondered whether I would be able to get back into her good books. It would be nice to have a friend on this planet, I thought.

Heracles grunted loudly. I was pleased that Tuka had told me that it was not rutting season.

My eyes looked over at the contents of his trough. They were disgusting. Yet, I was so very hungry.

I contemplated trying to feed from the trough.

I was hungry and the contents looked disgusting, and no doubt Heracles had already rooted through them for the best bits.

My tummy rumbled.

I looked into the trough. The contents were indeed revolting, but I saw what looked like a half eaten vegetable, similar to a turnip, at my end of the trough.