It is always the eyes.
It is the first thing I seek when I view a woman. It is the key to attraction. If the eyes do not intrigue me, do not mesmerize me, then the rest does not matter. A superb body surmounted by "dead" eyes is worthless.
You can call me particular or just picky.
I seek a spark of life, an intelligence, the whisper of erotic promise and humor within a woman's eyes. In many, I see some of these qualities but few have them all.
I engage in an endless search for perfection, for the eyes that encompass all I yearn for.
And in the strangest place, I found the ultimate object of my quest.
I found those perfect eyes.
I was visiting a city north of the Vosk River, close to the Laurius River. I was seeking some rare spices.
I am a Baker. I delight in creating new recipes, using exotic ingredients. I knew of a traveling Merchant with cargo from Anango who would be visiting the city. He, Kensra of Turia, often dealt in spices and wines.
It was a holiday in the city, the birthday celebration of their Tatrix. The streets were busy with the festivities and merriment.
I joined the throng on the great Plaza as they gathered to wish the Tatrix well wishes. She would make a brief appearance.
And as part of a long tradition, the Tatrix would give gifts to her people.
Copper and silver tarsks would be tossed to the crowds with a few gold tarns mixed in. I did not care for the coins. I came to see the Tatrix.
She had not held power long. The last Administrator had brought the city to near ruin with his wasteful spending and incompetence.
The people had been ripe for change. They were being crippled by their government. Someone needed to step in and seize control before the city was a shambles.
And the Tatrix seemed to be their savior. She was wise and efficient. She was a Scribe, on the High Council of the city.
Her supporters presented her as a viable candidate and no one stood opposed to her. She seized control from the Administrator and he escaped from the city, barely avoiding execution.
In the last three years, the city had been brought back from the brink of disaster. It was not even starting to prosper.
The Tatrix had wrought positive change and most of the people fully supported her.
There were a few dissenters, as there always were. People jealous of her status and power. They told stories of the cruelty of the Tatrix. They tried to demonize her but the vast majority of people ignored their lies.
One of the Ministers of the Tatrix announced her appearance and she stepped onto a colorful balcony on a vast Cylinder. She was resplendent in fine silk robes, the colors reminiscent of the fine birds of the rainforests. Her veils, including a resplendent veil of state, covered all of her face except for her eyes.
I had an excellent vantage point. The Tatrix looked out into the crowd, in all directions, lingering for several Ihn each time. During one of her pauses, my eyes locked onto hers.
I was stunned. I could not move. How funny Fate could be.
I had found perfection in the eyes of a Tatrix.
I had found the object of my lifelong quest.
And I had to have her.
I was not seeking a Free Companion. I was seeking a kajira. I was seeking a woman I could possess totally, own completely.
I sought a woman who would fulfill herself through the paradox of the collar.
I was not seeking children. I was seeking a woman to cater to my every desire.
Only the collar could satisfy me.
But, how to collar a Tatrix?
I was but a Baker, not a Warrior or Slaver. Yet, like all men, I knew much about such matters. The Paga taverns were often filled with men bragging of their captures, giving the details of their cleverness.
I might not know all the secrets of abducting women, but I possessed a solid foundation.
Obviously subterfuge would be essential to my plans. I did not have the skills to simply force my way into her Cylinder, slay her guards and escape by tarn. Such would remain only a fantasy to me.
No, I needed to entice her away from her protection, away from her guards. I needed to set the bait as if I wanted to lure an urt out of hiding.
My mind contemplated a myriad of options, remembering the stories I had heard time and time again.
There were the legal traps, those certain laws that would lead to the enslavement of a woman if she violated them. Unlike Ar, the couching laws were not in effect here. She would not be likely to become an impoverished debtor.
Could I get her to engage in behavior more appropriate to a slave and then prove it in court or to a magistrate? Could I get her to submit to me? Could I trick her into either of these?
The legal angle was tricky, maybe beyond my abilities.
Tassa powder. Capture scent. Anesthetic darts.
If I could get her alone, any of these could render her unconscious and thus permit me to enslave her. Could I somehow get her to trust me enough to meet me alone?
Tassa powder in a pie, cake or pudding?
Could I simply charm her until she begged for me to enslave her? She was my perfection but would she see me as her perfect Master?
She was a free woman, of very high station. She would likely deny what is in her soul. She would deny her own fulfillment.
I think subterfuge would be my best option.
I eventually decided on a plan.
I purchased two buildings in the city, ones that abutted each other. I bought one as myself, the Baker. I bought the other under a disguise, a Merchant seeking to open a silk shop.
I then hired a discrete Builder, one I paid very well. He made a few renovations to the buildings according to my ideas.
I rarely used the Merchant shop. But, as the Merchant I did make friends with a man who operated a business in draft tarns. I used his services to transport cargo crates out of the city to Ko-ro-ba.
I used the other building to make a small, elite bakery that specialized in custom-made cakes and pastries.
I often sent free samples to the Tatrix and her court. Sometimes the Tatrix even sent a few minor requests through a messenger.
Five months passed.
I then received a summons to the Central Cylinder to meet the Tatrix as a formal feast. I eagerly accepted and sent a return message for her to visit my shop and sample some special treats I wanted to create for the feast.
Surprisingly she accepted and told me that she would arrive in four days.
I hurried to ready everything for her visit.
Four days later, the Tatrix and her entourage came to my bakery. It was a crowded building with little room for maneuvering. The cooking equipment took up much of the space.
This was an intentional design.
Some of the guards have to wait outside as they could not all fit within the shop. A few went to the rear of the shop to watch the back door and windows.
I invited the Tatrix into my private tasting room in the back. The room was too small for more than two people.
Her guards examined the room first. They searched the room for weapons but found only baking supplies and finished pastries. They searched the floors and walls for secret doors but found them all quite solid. They searched me thoroughly and found nothing to alarm them. They even tasted a random sampling of the pastries to ensure they were not poisoned.
The Tatrix apparently trusted me and agreed to partake of my wares in the private room. She reassured her guards that she would be fine. She did not fear assassination from me. And as the building was surrounded and there was only a single exit from the room, she could not be abducted.
The guards wanted the door to remain open but several matters ensured that it would have to be closed. First, it opened into the room so if it was open it would be an obstacle to the Tatrix and I. Second, it was attached to a powerful spring that forced it closed once someone was not holding it. Third, the Tatrix was a trusting soul in some respects. I did not worry her.
I began by describing to the Tatrix all the different items I had prepared. I told her of the sweet and sour flavors, the fruits and candies, the chocolates and cakes. I opened a bottle of wine and offered her a glass.
She politely declined the wine.
She did not notice me pour some of the "wine" into a cloth. Capture scent!
The cloth went over her nose and mouth and I gripped her tightly. She struggled for only a couple of Ihn and then fell limp.
Capture scent is very quick.
She was now unconscious and had made nearly no sound. I silently bolted the door shut and hurried with the rest of my plan.
I stood on the table and removed a hidden panel from the ceiling, the one place the guards had failed to check. I lifted the Tatrix into the air and crammed her into a tunnel above the ceiling. I followed after her, pushing her forward into the tunnel, and then replaced the panel.
I dragged her through the tunnel to the Merchant shop I owned. I donned my Merchant guise and tossed the Tatrix into a crate.
I loaded up my wagon and left the shop.
I was seen by a couple guards but they basically ignored me. They were fooled by the disguise and had no reason to suspect anything. I rode directly to my friend with the draft tarns.
I hired him to immediately take me to Ko-ro-ba and paid him handsomely.
We made it safely to Ko-ro-ba where I then hired another man to take me to Vonda. I then traveled to Ar and finally ended my journey in Brundisium.
I was safe. And I had my perfection.
When the Tatrix awoke, she found herself nude on the floor. She tried to move, to conceal her nakedness, but found her wrists locked behind her in iron manacles, a short chain between the two manacles.
She frantically looked around and noticed me as I sat there watching her. Our eyes locked.
There was terror in those eyes. The “secure” Tatrix had found that her defenses had not been perfect. Her superior station was now meaningless. She was simply a captive and she knew that would likely lead to her enslavement.
Behind the terror though, I saw again what had drawn me initially. There was still that spark of life, that intelligence, that whisper of erotic promise and humor within her eyes.
The terror would pass in time. It was a natural reaction from a staid free woman who believes herself invulnerable to the natural urges of men. No woman was truly safe if a determined man sought to capture her.
The Tatrix was also confused. I was wearing the yellow and brown of my Caste. A mere Low Caste, a Baker. I am sure she thought it was a disguise. I am sure she hoped it was a disguise. Such a woman would have desired to be captured by a man of High Caste or at least of great wealth. That might have provided her a more comfortable life.
I remained silent, my eyes roaming over her nakedness. She was a tad overweight and her body needed some toning. As Tatrix, I am sure she never exercised and far too often dined on rich delicacies. I would sculpt her body over time.
The Tatrix scanned the rest of the room. It was a basement room with no windows and only a single door. The room was devoid of items except for a thin, thread-worn blanket, a bowl of water on the floor and a bucket in one corner. The starkness of the room was intimidating.
The imperious threats began first. She warned me of the horrible tortures that awaited me when her soldiers came to rescue her. The boiling oil, the ravenous urts, the rack, the razor-honed knives. If I freed her, she would allow me to live.
Her words did not frighten me in the least.
Then the ransom offers came next, the promises of great wealth for her release. Thousands of gold tarns would be mine if I returned her to her city. I could easily purchase hundreds of slaves. She would even give me some of her finest state slaves.
Her words did not tempt me in the least.
And then the begging commenced. The urgent pleas for her freedom, the desperate cries for her release. There were actual tears in her stunning eyes.
Her words did dissuade me in the least.
I then spoke to her for the first time since her abduction. “You are to be my kajira.”
I then moved toward her, a plain steel collar in my hand. She cringed, begging even more for her freedom, promising me anything I desired.
I told her, “I desire only you.”
I showed her the collar and told her to read aloud the words engraved on it. She hesistated but then spoke the words. “I am the kajira of Talos.”
Her tears streamed down her face as I locked the steel around her smooth neck and said, “I shall call you Tiana.”
I then held her face in my hands and kissed her.
It would be the first time that she had ever been kissed like this. The kiss was brutal, a master’s kiss. It was a kiss of claiming, a kiss where she did not even have to respond. It was a taking, making the girl cognizant that she was being kissed by her owner.
When I broke off the kiss, there was a trickle of blood at her lip. I looked into her eyes and past the terror I also saw the beginnings of her desire. The collar and then the kiss had ignited a spark deep within her frigidity.
It would take time to harness that spark and create a burning inferno. But it was only a matter of time.
I would truly free the ex-Tatrix. It was the paradox of the collar. There is no freer woman than the woman who wears a collar. I would liberate the passion within her soul.
I stood and walked toward the door.
As I exited the room, I stated, “I must depart for a bit but will return soon.” I then left her alone in the room.
Tiana had free reign within the room but the door was securely locked. She could not escape. I wanted to give her a little time to herself to understand her situation. Yes, it was a shock but it was also a reality of Gor. She would adjust.
She had no choice.
When I returned, I was accompanied by two men. There was an Iron Master and a Leather Worker. They each set up their equipment within the room as I went over to Tiana.
Tiana was quivering in fear. She understood the purpose of these other men. They would bring a finality to her enslavement.
First would come the branding and then her ears would be pierced.
An Ahn later, their work was completed. Tiana was now collared, branded and pierced. She wore a simple steel collar.
Her brand, on her left hip, was the common cursive Kef. There were steel rods in her ears, rods that would remain for four days.
Tiana still felt the lingering pain of the experience. Her eyes had nearly been drained of tears. The realization of her condition was starting to sink into her. I think she realized that rescue was no longer an option.
Even if she escaped, where could a branded and pierced girl flee to?
There was one more matter to attend to this day before I permitted Tiana to sleep for the night, one more action to solidify Tiana’s condition within her mind.
I brought Tiana to her feet and then locked her manacles over her head to an anchor ring on the ceiling.
I then stood behind her and removed a whip from a pouch at my waist.
To Be Continued...