"Interesting `place' this," I said to Sanda Talen as we searched for a place to wash off our new purchase. A few of the idlely curious following us, more due to my reputation than anything else, I suppose. The town of Thistle being quite attractive in its way, reminding me somewhat of similar towns in my own native France. This part of Trelandar well known for its fine wines, I might note. My vineyards are not large, but the product is quite good. Mara was walking with Lady Tirana, the girl angry at me now for having whipped Gayle as I had. I had considered it necessary to find out the truth, and I had done so. I would make it up to Mara later on, although I had no intentions of letting Mara start another "relationship" with Gayle as she had with her sister. I had every intention of allowing Gayle a great deal of freedom, but on the other hand she would remain a slave girl, not a collared "free woman" like her sister had been! "That" I promised myself as she walked behind us on a rawhide leash, her hands bound behind her back, a dirty strip of blue cloth around her hips her only attire. Public nudity, even that of slaves, being frowned upon. As it was, Gayle attracted ample attention from the young men, who delighted in running up and slapping her curvy bottom as she walked along behind us, Gayle taking such treatment with the sexual insolence of the female slave who knows her power over men. I considered the idea of fitting her with a chastity belt. The 26th Century has some very interesting types too here!
"I suppose so," Sanda smiled, "Although being born here, I suppose I've never really noticed it." Thistle was old, there being a number of old ruins that dated back to the 21st Century before The War changed everything. I suppose it had a different name back then, but no one I've met seems to know what it was, so I guess "Thistle" will have to do for now! There was an era after The War when there was a general reversion to barbarism, and most structures that survived The War (The Lorr did not destroy small towns) were put to the torch or otherwise destroyed in what appears to have been a sudden violent burst of senseless destruction! Where Man showed his worst side to his own fellow man! There having been "race war" that followed The War, I note here. Proof that Janet didn't follow my own advice here on the matter, I having pointed out to Janet that "racial equality" is something that you have to "earn", not something governments "give" to you.
I watched three young Warrioresses, proud in their black, swords at their hips, cadets from the Academy, strolling on by. While the Academy is on my estates, it is not under my domain, but comes under Darlanis', being on what is called "crown lands". Those parts of Trelandar that belong to the Empire itself. Sharon would be coming to the Academy in another two years. It would be easy to visit her as it was but a few hours ride. I wondered if Darlanis had realized that. We might again establish the sort of relationship that we once had before Darlanis took her from me. Once again I might have my beloved "golden girl" back again!
Gayle looked at herself in the mirror. Smoothing the silk down against the feminine curves of her body. Many women are excited by its feel against their soft skin. I noted that she even resembled my Sharon more now that she had something to cover herself. I hated myself for having whipped her as I had, although I suppose that it was just as well, since it proved to the wench I was the sort of a mistress that she would have to obey without the slightest hesitation! There is a great deal to be said for the old Biblical saying about "sparing the rod and spoiling the child." It is as true now as it was back in the 20th Century when Dr. Spock and his ilk preached the foolishness of never spanking or disciplining your children. The results were a crime rate that went up sky-high at the end of the century before Janet Rogers finally restored "social discipline" as best she could!
I had allowed Gayle to wear clips and a strap, and to shave her pubes. I had warned her that she was not to seek the company of men. That she was to "behave herself like a lady" and in no way ever let Mara see what little girls should not be seeing! I had purchased for her a lovely golden collar to match Yvette's. Purchased her earrings, slim circles of gold to wear in her ears. Sandals to protect her feet from the sharp rocks. Some lipstick and cosmetics. Perfume, all the things a young teenage girl has to have to look her best. She was, after-all, Mara's slave girl.
"Thank you, mistress, for all you have done," she breathed, going to her knees before me, dropping her head demurely, knees together as was proper before her mistress. The hem of her blue silk shift high on her thighs as was proper for a collared wench. Sanda frowning a bit to herself, having approved of none of this!
"You understand, Gayle," I said to her, "That your future behavior will determine if you retain the privileges of being Mara's slave girl or not." Otherwise I would use her as any other wench on the estate. What I had done for her would give her considerable "incentive" to remain in my "good graces", I hoped!
"I understand, mistress," she answered. Adding, "I will not disappoint you." I did not think that she would. I liked this girl. I fear more than a mistress should. She was not like her sister. She didn't have that barely veiled "arrogance" that Maris had towards me before she escaped. Her attitude was better. She was a nice girl, well bred, not a slut like many slave girls.
Gayle Marn regarded me from beneath lovely lashes, squinting against the sun off the ocean, her face and figure reminding me much of Sharon's. I thought her golden collar was lovely there snug around her slim neck. It appeared more like "jewelry" than a "badge of bondage". The wisp of blue silk over her shaved pubes was quite provocative as were the lovely golden disks that covered her pierced nipples. The men in my employ had been warned the first day that I got her that she was "off-limits"! Sanda had been "pleased" by that, especially since Gayle was a golden haired beauty whose body was already starting to blossom out into glorious womanhood! She was perhaps 5'7", and 35-25-36. She didn't have the "regal" features like her sister had, but on the other hand I liked her face better than I had Maris', having seen "enough" of Darlanis' features to last me for some time to come! Gayle was so much like Sharon that I feared for the feelings she aroused in me. I wanted to take her in my arms, stroke her hair, hold her close. I wanted to give her things, see her smile, let her know that she had nothing to fear from me. I wanted to "mother" her! To make another "Sharon" out of her!
I myself wore only clips and a strap, a brief bit of black silk fitted to my body, the scars from Sisa's attack now fading. The afternoon sun was hot and bright to the west, a cool breeze off the ocean soothing as we laid side by side on the big beach blanket. Mara played contentedly in the wet sand near our feet, naked as the day she was born. It is not the usual practice here in the 26th Century to dress small children in bathing attire.
"You are quite different from what I first expected you to be, mistress," Gayle ventured, looking at me there on the blanket beside her, regarding me from those lovely azure eyes of hers. My hard muscular body well tanned, the scars I bore telling much.
"And what did you expect me to be?" I asked her. Raising up on an elbow to face her. I thought of her older sister. Of Mara's delight in gaining a girl better than the one she had let go. Gayle in any case being more suitable for Mara than Maris had been in my opinion at least. Gayle was more "playful", less "serious" than Maris had been. There was nine years difference in their ages. Gayle being sixteen to Maris' twenty five.
"Not kind and understanding like you are, mistress," Gayle answered. She hadn't held the whipping I had given against me. I was glad of that, although you aren't supposed to ask the forgiveness of a slave girl for anything you do to her. You are the mistress, she is but the slave girl whose only choice is to obey!
I saw no reason to abuse her or mistreat her. I do not get perverted enjoyment out of such things. I kissed her cheek. She was much like my Sharon in so many ways. I feared I would not be able to discipline her properly if the need ever did arise. No doubt Sanda would be able to, Gayle being a beautiful Dularnian. Sanda having little love for Dularnians of either sex. I suppose having one's only son fighting against them does that to you.
"I happen to believe that I can get more out of you with love and understanding than with whips and chains," I told her with a smile. I wondered if her older sister would have been as responsive. I rather doubted it. I did not think that Gayle would fail me in the trust that I had placed in her. She had felt the lash, the weight of the chain. A girl learns swiftly.
I had carefully explained to her how I wanted her to respond to Mara's questions about life. Unlike most 20th Century girls, Mara had seen animals mate and the resulting kittens, puppies, calves, foals, and so forth. She knew that women gave birth to babies, and that these babies grew up to be little boys and girls like her. I do not believe that children in most cases should be shielded from the truth. From the realities of life as it is. I will admit that when Sharon had admitted to me a few months ago that she had lost her virginity it shook me up just a bit, but that's to be expected, I suppose. We all have our "illusions".
"Do you think my sister will make it to Dularn?" Gayle asked. It had been almost a week now since she had stolen the little sailboat and set out on her voyage to distant Dularn. I admired her courage, if not her intelligence. She was a Warrioress. We are sometimes noted for not being too cautious about such things. It is sometimes said of us that we are the sort who venture where more wiser people often fear to tread. I suspect that it is true. I know of several examples of such incidents.
I did not answer for a minute. She had not used my title of "mistress", which spoke much of her feelings. Despite whatever I thought of Maris Marn myself, she was still Gayle's older sister.
"I hope so for her sake," I answered her. Gayle's eyes held mine. She understood. I had explained to Mara that her new girl would be kept shackled at night and that I would hold the key. I prayed that Maris would make it to Dularn safely if only for Gayle's sake. I didn't want Gayle thinking that I had driven her sister to take reckless risks that resulted in her death at sea!
"Mistress, may a slave ask a question?" Gayle ventured a few seconds later. Looking down into my eyes as she propped herself on an elbow. She is a very beautiful girl. A very nice one too!
"Of course," I answered her with an encouraging smile, the sun hot on my nearly completely naked body, Gayle having oiled it against the burning rays of the sun. The touch of her hands had been pleasant. A bit too "pleasant" for my own liking, I found!
"If my sister is recaptured and returned to you, what will you do to her?" I sensed in her the fear that she felt. I had the power to do with Maris as I felt fit, including the maiming or killing her in any way that I wished. I was still her owner.
"Legally, I believe that she was let go," I answered. There was a question as to "whose" property she had been. Mine or Mara's? Lady Lana had been the legal owner, but since the wench had been Mara's, the question was a valid one I thought. Mara had told her to go home, and since a slave girl must obey, it is quite possible that Maris had been merely obeying the orders given her by her mistress. I pointed this all out to Gayle, who seemed quite interested in my thought processes on the subject.
"How did you become a slave here in California?" I asked my young slave girl as she soaked up the sun, her body oiled to keep her skin soft and feminine. Cancer of all sorts being as easy to cure as the common cold. There is something to be said for such technology that makes such things possible, even if it is "Lorr"!
"There was an attack by an Imperial raider upon the ship transporting me to Arsana," she told me. The Empire, like the Dularnians, having a number of privateers commissioned as commerce raiders, although the term "pirate" is probably more proper considering the nature of many of them. There is a regrettable tendency on both sides to "commission" anyone with a ship capable of long sea voyages. The trouble is that many of these are just out to make a "pile of gold" any way that they can. Often by kidnaping women and selling them as slaves. There is sometimes very little difference between a "pirate" and some "privateer"!
"And so you ended up here," I said. Her sister had been captured as a spy posing as a prostitute in Sarn. Maris had made the mistake of forgetting about Lara Warsan's Prostitute Guild! While spies are usually beheaded, Maris had been worth too much on a slave block for anyone in their right minds to "waste" such beauty as hers, so she eventually ended up as I have stated as little Mara's own personal slave girl after Lana found out that her husband had grown perhaps a bit overly fond of the Dularnian!
"I was sold in Trella to a slave broker, who in turn sold me to the slaver from whom you got me," Gayle told me, looking out over the sea. We were about half a mile from the cove where the Squala was being worked on, being repainted. On a little beach that I knew from what Sanda had told me Lana had often used when she had wished to sunbath herself in private. I found the curves of Gayle's young firm breasts beautiful when she sat like that. I admire beauty in all its forms, both male and female.
"Are you homesick?" I asked her, touching her shoulder with my hand, seeing her eyes look into mine. She had suffered much before becoming Mara's. She was after all only sixteen, the age when many young girls her age are just discovering themselves.
"Yes, mistress," she told me in a soft voice, her eyes wet and liquid. "I miss my home very much." I took her in my arms then and let her sob on my shoulder, holding her, stroking her hair as I have done with my Sharon or my beloved little Mara.
"If you wish, I will see to it that your father learns you are safe with me," I said to her. She was no longer a slave girl just then to me. Just a lost waif far from her beloved home.
"Lady Lorraine, look at the big kitty up there looking at us," Mara interrupted, pointing with her hand to a spot above us where the forest started. Her words striking terror to my heart!
A cold chill going over me, I turned and looked, gasping in horror at the creature there, a creature from a time now only a bit of forgotten history. Its famous fangs having given it its name: SABER TOOTH TIGER! One of the terrors of the 26th Century!
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