"They fell upon me in my sleep," he said. "I wakened to a knife at my
throat. I was chained. They much s****ted with me. When they wearied of
me, I was taken, leashed and manacled, to a lonely beach, at the edge
of Thassa, bordering on the western edge of the forests."
Hunters of Gor Page 13
An adventure in the Northern Forests of Gor part 2
With a startled yelp, Matto stumbled forward, trying to keep up as he
could within the confines of the little slack she allowed between the
cords that bound his ankles, eager to avoid any more pressure being
brought to bare on his balls. Humiliating, he shuffled along like a
belled kajiria, taking many small steps, his barefeet shuffling across
the jungle foliage, whereas before he would have strode like any man;
already he was being conditioned to his knew status, how he hated this
woman for what she had done to him. Within his bonds, Matto seethed
helplessly at his plight, but however much he aimed imaginary daggers
into her back, he loathed himself more for allowing such a fate happen
to him. What would his family and friends think, he doubted they
would even recognise him and even if they did, they would not deign to
acknowledge a slave.
Miserable and in pain as he was pulled along by his balls and neck
leash, not only from the dry shaving of his hair or his tight bonds,
but also from the jungle foliage bru****ng and sometimes scratching his
unprotected ****d body. Being led alternatively by the ball and neck
was not a pleasant experience, especially the course binding fibres
about his ball sac.
Thankfully she soon led him them through less dense foliage. As they
progressed up the trail they started to pass dead bodies, mostly male
but occasionally a female. Ban****ra ignored the fallen men, but paused
at each of the women; for each she whispered a small private
remembering and closed those eyes.
With a growing dread Matto noticed that all the dead men had been
stripped and castrated. He became fearful for his own life and
manhood.
Stopping Matto knew enough to fall to his knees, for once he was
grateful to be kneeling, it meant he was resting his weary and sore
body. He wondered where all the other hunters had gone, had they
escaped and what had happened to those he had seen fall beneath the
women's nets and bolas? His captor tied his leash to a tree, leaving
him, searched what remained of the scattered baggages.
Ban****ra returned shortly, and with a tug and kick urged him up.
Without warning other than with a tug to his leash, Matto struggled to
his feet, progressing his captor again around the outskirts of the
battle.
After only a short distant she stopped, this time she made him kneel
with his head to the dirt. Matto felt his leash collar pulled back,
before being pushed on to his side, she then drew his feet back behind
him and tied them to his hands, securing both bindings by an
additional knot that meant too much pressure, either from his ankles
or wrists would be painful for his already well trussed ball. Checking
the bindings were not too tight so as to stop his circulation, she
squeezed her little finger between his flesh and the fiber on each of
his bonds. Content that he would not lose any of his body from poor
circulation, she fetched a discarded tarpaulin; she covered him,
concealing her booty.
"Kajirus, you will be silent. From now until permitted otherwise, you
will communicate only in whimpers, one whimper for yes, two for no.
Anything more from your mouth, and I splice your tongue so you are
totally one with the s****s in the grass. Do you understand me?"
She heard his single frightened whimper, and smiled. Satisfied, she
went hunting.
Left alone in the dark, in pain for the first time realised he had
been effectively and easily hogtied. In rage Matto fought the thongs.
He pulled at them with his feet and wrists, with difficulty he
shuffled about as far as his bonds would allow him, soon discovering
what even small movements meant for his balls. He was perfectly
secured; he had been bound by a panther woman.
With curiosity Ban****ra watched her slave's squirming beneath the
tarpaulin, puzzled that he even try, surely he knew Panther Girl did
not tie bindings that would permit escape.
From under the lead edge of the tarpaulin he had a small window of
daylight, from which sometime later he saw her again, well her feet,
presumably still searching more of the discarded packs, this time
further a field. Unable to do anything other than grin and bare the
discomfort, after an extremely long and stressful day Matto dosed off.
Her existing booty, the new kajirus, secure and concealed, Ban****ra
searched quickly and efficiently, looking only for things of value
that she would otherwise have to trade for, but at the same time she
only selected items she and her beast of burden could carry. Not
wanting to be found alone in the open she searched only those packs
relatively close by, she even subdued her cry of delight when she
found a good selection of blades that her sisters must have missed.
Returning with her lute of blades, food and some few surprises she had
found that would be amusing to use with her new slave she was not
surprised or concerned that her pack animal had fallen asleep. Sleep
was typical of males anyway, but Ban****ra was not angry. Let him sleep
when he could, his energies were needed for serving her, not thoughts
of escape or revenge. Perhaps he had accepted his fate, she hoped so,
and it would be better for him in the long run. But then again a bit
of backbone in a male slave, to prove he was once really a free man,
wasn't a bad thing, it just meant their breaking and taming was more
fun.
Leaving him be, she scouted round the trail, searching for signs of
her sisters, seeing if they had ventured to the coast to trade their
new captives straight away to unload the livestock or whether they had
returned to the settlement. Finding signs for both, she concluded that
the various bands of panther girls had gone their separate ways. The
need for collective action over, old rivalries and factors were once
again already in place. Ban****ra sighed, such bitterness was
frustrating, it meant she would have to watch her back and protect her
loot until she returned to her own clan's hunting grounds. It meant
for a potential difficult and diverting journey.
Returning for her property, Ban****ra studied the form under the
tarpaulin, wondering if it would not just be easier to take the tarsk
to the coast and sell or trade him there. She lifted off the covering,
discarding it. The kajirus was still asleep. She studied his form, hog
tied and ****, admiring the curve of his rear, his sturdy back, and
the possibilities of his cock. He had the makings of an agreeable
plaything, if she were to discard him now, just for an easier trip,
she would never know. Besides, she would have to trade more loot than
she wished when at the coast if she lost her beast of burden.
Crouching down, she un-sheaved her knife and placing the point of her
blade where her finger tip had previously been, cut his bonds, awaking
her sleeping kajirus.
Matto groaned in pain, but swiftly struggled to his feet as he was
pulled up by his leash, despite his aching limbs. Warily he eyed the
un-sheaved knife in her hand. He did not like the look of the grin
playing on her lips. This woman and her fla****ng blade terrified him.
The knife always seemed to be in her hand, and, as she spoke, she
always seemed to play with it.
Sheaving her knife, Ban****ra vigorously rubbed his aching legs and
arms, rubbing him down, soothing his cramping and sore muscles.
For Matto, it was all he could do to stand up as she roughly addressed
his limbs. It was a far cry from the luxurious and *****c massages he
had experienced by trained slave girls. Nevertheless it was equally
welcome.
Satisfied his muscles would not cramp or delay their travels, Ban****ra
ceased working his limbs. Bringing into play the first of her newly
discovered toys for him, Ban****ra pulled out a slave hood. Indicating
he kneel, Ban****ra drew it over his head, plunging him to darkness and
belted up the buckles. Then, playfully spinning him round she darted
back and forth beside him, tweaking his skin, his nipples, his
manhood, his arse cheeks, until in confusion he fell to the ground
with a muffled cry.
Quick as a larl she pounced on him and gave him the kiss of the
panther at his lower belly, marking him as hers and as a kajirus.
Drawing back she smiled at her work, the purple and red bruising
already marking him. It wasn't as good as a brand or a tattoo but it
would do for now. Playtime over, for now at least, she barked a
command and kicked him to his feet, her hooded and leashed kajirus.
Roughly taking his arms, she bound his writs together loosely behind
his back. Next she load him up with her loot, spreading the weight
across his broad shoulders, using leather saddle bags. Satisfied his
load was secured, she took a step to admire her beast of burden. What
a sight he was from head to toe, head dark leather, neck and chest
tanned, groin pale white, legs and feet tanned. Well soon enough he
would lose his whiteness, and loaded down as heavily has she had, he
showed strength. But would he have stamina she wondered, his thighs
and calves looked sturdy enough but only time would tell. With a tug
of his neck leash, she set off again.
Ban****ra kept them on the trail path this time, heading in land,
deeper into the northern forests.
Despite his plight and the demanding weight he carried, Matto welcomed
the open and easy travel at first, as no longer was his bare body
unpredictably slapped with foliage. He felt his manhood flapping back
and forth, slapping his thighs, he felt shameful. Walking blind was
difficult, a sensation that increased his vulnerability no end but he
soon found himself sensing and anticipating her subtle guidance
through the two leashes. However as the sun came up to noon, the sand
beneath his feet began to burn the soles of his barefeet. Indeed as
they progressed he began to suffer from lack of food, water and from
the sweltering heat generated within the hood. His body was covered
with sheen of sweat Thus far; she had supplied him with neither food
nor water.
Twice Matto stumbled and fell, neither time did she stop, instead he
was dragged by the leash till screaming, unseeing he regained his
feet; if the surface he was on was not sand he was sure he would have
badly been cut and bruised. Matto guessed this woman knew that the
sand would cause his body little damage, so she cared little that he
experience discomfort when he lost his footing, and was dragged along
behind her. The third time he collapsed, he blacked out completely,
trying to regain his feet.
pet_kajirus@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
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