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Panther Tales

By: Snowkemper



Author's note-all characters in this story are adults over the age of 18. 'Girl' is the designation used for all female slaves, no matter how old, and the Panthers use the same designation to show their contempt for the whole slaving system.

*****

Part One - The Trap

The Panther girl called Snow reached out a hand and touched her companion's elbow as they ran down the wide forest trail, and the two slowed to a very cautious walk. A few yards ahead, a juvenile sleen, some four feet in length, bared it's formidable teeth at the pair. For a moment, it stared and snarled, then darted into the thick trees and vanished.

Snow smiled. "A good omen," said the girl, who was known in the cities and villages south of the forest as Ur-Sleena - literally, the sleen from Earth. 

"Can you still hear them?" Snow asked the other girl, and watched as she tilted her head and gazed down the path behind them. The other girl was Gorean born, and her senses were much more acute than anyone from Earth.

"They're still back there," the girl replied, nodding. "And I'm glad we didn't have to challenge a sleen-even a little one-with only one dagger between us."

"Only a little further to go," Snow answered and started back up the trail, running at an easy pace. They weren't trying to leave their pursuers behind; just lead them along. The second girl, called Palm Wine, sprinted to catch up, and soon the two were again running side by side.

Even by Gorean standards, Palm Wine was a beautiful girl. Tall and graceful, with honey blond hair framing an exquisite face and flowing down to the small of her back, she moved with an easy rythmn over the flattened grass. Her simple, loose tunic didn't hide her marvelous body. By Panther standards, she was almost unarmed-only a single dagger strapped to her left bicep. Her only other adornment was a gold cuff around her right ankle, a match for the one Snow wore-the symbol of the Hellion clan. She had joined the fierce clan after Snow and another clan member who called herself Ally had killed her former Master and set her free. She chose to keep her slave name as a reminder of the nightmare she had escaped.

Since her rescue, Palm Wine had been totally devoted to the clan, and to Snow in particular. Indeed, she was awed by the Earth girl, and strove daily to match her ferocity and courage. Still, she couldn't bring herself to alter her appearance the way Snow had. The Hellion leader had been very pretty once, and still had a lovely slim body and amazing electric-blue eyes, but she wore her platinum blond hair very short and ragged. It looked as if someone had casually hacked it off with a dagger-which was exactly what Snow did. Her once-pretty face was marred by hideous scars. From the corners of her mouth almost to her ears, it looked like someone had tried to cut her face in half, and there was a large 'X' carved just below her left eye. She had a golden collar around her neck, her own constant reminder of what could happen to a Panther girl who allowed herself to be captured, and a strip of cloth wrapped around her right leg, just above the knee. It didn't look like a weapon, but in a heartbeat she could convert it into a deadly sling.

Palm Wine pointed to an odd, twisted little tree, and Snow grinned, her facial scars turning a happy expression into something out of a child's nightmare. 

"Shall we dance?" she laughed as the two jogged past the landmark, and for about 20 yards the two girls hopped and shuffled, moving back and forth and side to side, spinning, stomping their bare feet, turning the formerly easy to follow trail into a trampled mess. By the time they were finished, both girls were giggling, and even Snow could hear their pursuers.

"Be safe sister," Palm Wine said simply, and took two running steps, leaped and grabbed a low hanging branch, then swung herself like a gymnast over a fallen tree. Just ahead was a tiny cave, far too small for more than one person at a time to enter. She would hide there long enough for the enemy to pass, then pursue from behind. A bow and arrows were hidden inside the little cave as well.

Snow waited a few more moments, letting the men chasing them get so close she could hear their weapons rattling, then sprinted away. There were six in the party chasing her-mercenaries by the look of them, come north from Laura to try chain luck in the western forests. She and Palm Wine had spotted them the day before, and followed silently until they were sure the men would take this trail. An hour ago, they had moved ahead and showed themselves-just long enough for the men to see two unarmed Panthers, but not long enough for them to recognize Hellions. They hadn't wanted to scare the men off, and no one had seen any of their clan for two weeks, when they had raided a village some hundred miles to the west. The Goreans had given chase immediately, just liked the Panthers had hoped.

Five minutes later, Snow moved to the very far right edge of the trail, running as carefully as a tightrope walker, and came to the end of the path. The hill obstructing her way wasn't very tall, but it was nearly vertical, and there was no way she could get near the top before the men were upon her. She stopped and turned, untied the sling from around her leg, and bent to pick up a fist-size rock. Then she waited, taking deep breaths, her large blue eyes blazing with bloodlust.

When the group of slavers came into view, she bent over and put her hands on her knees, making it look like she was far more exhausted than she really was. The men slowed to a walk when they spotted her, brandishing clubs and tarn prods, and one held a slaver's net.

"By the Priest-Kings would you look at this?" one of them exclaimed. "It's HER!"

The mix of fear and eagerness in the voice made a corner of Snow's mouth twitch upward in amusement before she could help it, but when she looked up her mouth was twisted in a defiant sneer. With a flick of her wrist, she spun her sling and sent a rock flying towards the men, missing deliberately. As the rock bounced between them, she took a small step forward and growled the worst insult she knew.

"Your fathers suck the cocks of Earth men!" she shouted, and bent to pick up another stone. The men before her muttered angrily.The last man in the mercenary group, an officer of some sort judging by his feathered cloak and bright red hat, barked an order over the angry murmurs.

"Get the bitch!" he commanded, and the other five started forward. They were all tall, muscular, bare-chested, ugly and hairy, and Snow's situation looked hopeless. They laughed cruelly and uttered vile threats as they advanced, but after only a few steps, they cried out in surprise and dismay as the very ground beneath them seemed to open up. Hellion captives had dug the pit over a year earlier, and Snow wanted to dance with glee as the mercenaries vanished from sight. Their shouts turned to screams of agony as they tumbled into the pit. The bottom, some ten feet down, was covered with wooden stakes and spikes of all sizes, and even a few broadswords too battered or too heavy for the Panther girls to use as weapons. The officer's eyes went wide with anguish as his men died, and his sword fell unnoticed from his nerveless fingers.

The screams hadn't even stopped when Palm Wine's voice rang out. "On your face or die-NOW!" she snarled, "Or I'll put this arrow through your balls!"

The officer glanced back and saw the second Panther, her bow notched and drawn, and sank first to his knees, then stretched out on the grass, utterly defeated. Snow reached behind a small bush and found a short sword, then danced back around the pit and and pressed the sharp blade to the man's neck.

"It worked perfectly," Palm Wine said, looking into the pit at the bodies. She slipped the arrow back into her quiver and slung the bow over her shoulder. Drawing her dagger, she crouched next to the officer and cut the straps on his pack. She pulled out a pair of cuffs and Snow nodded in approval.

"Hands behind your back-BARA!" she snapped, using the slaver's command as she dug the sword into the man's neck. He wimpered and crossed his wrists behind his back, and Palm Wine snapped on the cuffs. Next, she reached into the pack and found a length of binding fiber. She wrapped it around both ankles and knotted it, tying the man's feet with about twelve inches of slack.

"On your feet prisoner, and no talking. No one here cares about anything you have to say." Snow stepped back and watched the man struggle to stand. She waved her sword under his nose.

"You march in silence. Every word you say will cost you a finger. Nod if you understand," she said evenly and the man bobbed his head up and down, his eyes bulging in terror.

Snow used the tip of the sword to turn him. Palm Wine had emptied the pack of everything but a few coins and a fancy jeweled dagger, and tied it around her waist. She picked up the officer's sword and strode down the trail. Snow poked the man with her own short sword and he followed, stumbling, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Part Two - Trial

They walked into the evening, through dense forest on what could only be charitably called trails. The girls barely spoke, and their captive didn't dare. It was all he could do to stay upright. Walking with his hands bound behind his back and his ankles tied took all his concentration. He was forced to take short, shuffling steps, and his legs, already tired from the afternoon's chase, were soon singing in agony. Even getting little peeks of the lead Panther's lovely bare bottom as she led the trio deeper into the trees was small consolation for his exhaustion and fear.

Finally the girl pushed her head between two enormous tree trunks and held up her hand, halting the group. He couldn't help sinking gratefully to his knees, panting and soaked with sweat.

"The spring," Palm Wine said softly. "We're almost there." She vanished into the dense woods for a moment, returning with a water skin. He lifted his head and gratefully swallowed the cool water she squirted into his open mouth.

"We should have made contact by now," Snow mused, and a heartbeat later they heard a strange sound. "Twee twee, twee twee, twee twee," came the cry, and the two girls relaxed. It was the all-clear call of their clan. If there had been trouble, it would have been three 'twee' sounds in a row. Snow had invented the code so the Panthers could warn each other of danger even if one was being forced to call for her sisters under duress.

There was a rustling of leaves, and Ally appeared. She was a lovely, slim girl with shoulder length brown hair and eyes that sparkled with mischief. "Tal sisters," she greeted them, giving Snow a gentle kiss on the cheek, then wrapping her arms around Palm Wine and kissing her passionately.

"I see you brought a guest," the Panther laughed, looking at the prisoner.

Snow nodded. "He had some friends, but they had a previous engagement in the pit trap."

Ally laughed and tangled her fingers in the man's short hair. "Come on asshole," she growled, yanking him to his feet. "Just a little further."

"Who else is patrolling?" Snow asked as the Panther dragged the hapless captive along by the hair, bent over and stumbling.

"July has the northern half," Ally answered. A few more steps and the forest opened into a small clearing-one of the Hellions half dozen main camps.

"Tal sisters! Welcome back!" a very tall girl cried happily. It was Darkness, the strongest of the Hellions. Unlike most Goreans, who tend to be fair, she had jet black hair and very dark eyes, and a skin tone that reminded Snow of Italian girls on Earth. She towered over Snow and could look the prisoner straight in the eye. She called herself Darkness 'because thats what's in my heart,' and had run to the forests when her Free Companion had tried to betray her and sell her to a slaver several years earlier.

The officer looked around the camp. Another girl sat on a small stool, running a dagger across a whet stone. She had a typical, beautiful Gorean look-light brown hair, fair skin and chocolate eyes a man could drown in. Farther in, he could just barely see a small girl stirring something in a pot, and near her a shaggy bosk calmly chewed leaves off the trees at the edge of the clearing.

"Put him in the cage," Snow said as she walked away from the group. Darkness nodded and her powerfull hand gripped the man's upper arm. "Come on you," and she pulled him roughly. He staggered after her as she shoved him into a cage on the right side of the clearing. It was iron, about 10 feet by 6 feet and just high enough to stand upright in. There were a couple blankets and a wooden bucket inside.

"Who's got the key?" Darkness asked as she slammed the cage door shut. Palm Wine handed her the key to the prisoner's cuffs. "Turn around and give me your wrists," she commanded, and his hands were soon freed. As he rubbed his sore wrists, she strolled away. "You can untie your own damn feet."

Snow walked through the camp. Moving silently had become such an important habit during her time in the forests that she had to make a conscious effort to make some noise. She didn't want to startle Mouse, who was engrossed in making the best meal she could. They didn't dare risk a fire, so the small girl was stirring together a mixture of gruel, berries, dried fish and tubers. It wasn't all that tasty, but it was filling and nutritious. The girl looked up as Snow rustled through the leaves. 

They exchanged greetings, and Snow asked for two bowls of the porridge mixture. As Mouse filled bowls, she leaned closer, her voice quiet.

"You know we need to test him right?" she asked.

The girls eyes were filled with sadness, but she nodded. "I know."

"It's very brave of you to do this for me, Mouse," Snow said with a tender smile. The girl looked up.

"Maybe, but I'm not doing it for you. I'll do it for all of us - and for him."

Snow took the bowls and looked at the girl with concern. "Are you ok?"

"I will be," came the soft reply. "Give me an hour to get in the right frame of mind?"

Snow nodded and returned to the cage. The prisoner was huddled in a far corner, his arms wrapped around his knees. She slid one of the bowls into the cage.

He picked it up, looking at it in the dim light of Gor's three moons, and scowled. Snow smiled ruefully.

"Yeah I know, but it's all we've got. Eat it or go hungry."

She took her own bowl a little ways as the man began to eat. Darkness was sitting close to the knife-sharpener, whispering and occasionally kissing her.

"Have you eaten?" Snow asked, and both girls nodded. "Ok, in an hour or so, Darkness if you will relieve July on her patrol, and Mercy take the south?"

The girls agreed, and Snow promised she'd send someone to replace them before morning. Mercy gave her dagger a couple more swipes, then winked and took Darkness by the hand. Together they slipped out of the camp.

Snow shook her head and ate. She was glad the two girls were lovers. Darkness was a huge help controlling the other girl's rage. Out of all the girls, Mercy was the closest thing to a true psychopath the group had. Her first instinct in any situation was to attack. Snow approved of her willingness to fight, but sometimes it was better to be smart, to plan, or even to retreat. That philosophy had enabled her to beat the odds and survive all this time.

Darkness and Mercy moved into the trees and found a small patch of open grass. Wrapping their arms around each other, they kissed hungrily, their tongues fencing and fighting as they fell to the soft ground together. Darkness lay her lover on her back and slid a strong hand up one of the girl's satiny thighs, up and under her short tunic. Mercy was bare underneath, and she squirmed and moaned into the kiss as Darkness stroked and caressed her softness before sliding a finger inside her.

"Mmm you're so wet darling," Darkness whispered as her finger pushed in deeper. Mercy panted and spread her legs wider, her slender hips twitching.

"More?" Darkness teased, and grinned at the gasping reply "oh fuck yes!" 

She slid a second finger into the horny girl's pussy, savoring her lover's moans of pleasure. Mercy arched her back and rolled her hips, humping the girl's fingers, her luscious body trembling with need.

"Do it. God, fucking do it!" she groaned, and Darkness took the hint, thrusting her fingers in and out of the girl's dripping pussy. Mercy squeaked with delight, thrashing on the grass as her lover finger fucked her so hard her palm slapped her slick mound. Mercy grabbed the girl's long black hair as she arched and twisted, riding the waves of passion, growling like an animal as her climax hit. Darkness grinned and drove her fingers in again and again, wringing every bit of pleasure from the moaning girl, her hand drenched in the girl's flowing cream.

"Ohhhh I needed that," Mercy purred as she fell back on the ground, quivering as Darkness slowed her thrusts, then eased her fingers from the girl's satisfied pussy. The two kissed again, their tongues playing slowly as Mercy pushed the other girl onto her back.

"Your turn," she laughed as she wiggled down between the girl's thighs. She lifted Darkness' short camisk and began planting warm wet kisses on the girl's heated pussy mound. The black haired Panther moaned and brought her hand to her mouth, hungrily slurping Mercy's nectar off her fingers. Mercy looked up, her eyes blazing as her tongue began to flutter, licking and probing Darkness' soft folds. She slid her hands round the girl's hips to her stomach, holding her (mostly) still as her tongue plunged into the soaked pussy.

Mercy was relentless, her head bobbing, her tongue sliding across the girl's swollen clit as it pumped in and out. Her beautiful face was shiny with juices as she feasted on the sweet treat. When her lover began to buck her hips, she sucked her swollen pearl into her mouth and licked the sensitive bud wildly, driving Darkness over the peak. 

"Damn you are soooo good at that," Darkness gasped, and Mercy opened her mouth wide, covering her pouting pussy and sucking out the sweet flowing honey. She ran her tongue wetly up the full length of Darkness' slit, making the tall girl's body shudder, then crawled around and lifted a knee, straddling her.

Darkness grinned as the lovely, heart shaped buttocks wiggled back towards her, and she lifted her head to slide her tongue deep into the waiting pussy as Mercy lowered her head back down between her thighs.

The soft growls and snarls of the two Panthers 69 drifted through the trees and into the camp. Snow shook her head ruefully. She had glimpsed the two together--their lovemaking looked more like fighting than tenderness, but it seemed to be what they wanted. She hoped their prisoner heard the noises too. Being aroused would give them all a better idea of exactly what they were dealing with.

She approached the officer's cage, looking at his empty bowl and holding out her hand. Carefully, he handed it through the bars.

"More?" she asked, and he shook his head, still afraid to speak. She set it aside and stared into his face, her electric blue eyes glittering in the semi-darkness.

"I'm going to ask you some questions. Don't try to lie," she warned in her soft voice, and he nodded.

"What's your name?"

The man looked down. "Kal-El," he replied, and she let out a soft snort of laughter.

"Really?" she asked, smirking. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"They didn't give me much time. It was the first thing that popped into my head."

"What's your real name?" the little Panther asked, and he hesitated.

"I know you're Earth born. Your accent and looks give you away. So what is it?"

"Michael," he answered, still looking at the ground. "Michael Graves."


Panther Tales Ch. 02



Any character engaging in any kind of sexual activity in this or any of my stories is over the age of 18.

*****

Panther Tales II-Snow's Story

Part One

'At least it's finally over,' Sally thought as she walked awkwardly toward the sleen pens. A guard held each of her biceps, towering over her small frame, making sure she didn't fall. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and her ankles were hobbled, forcing her to take short, shuffling steps.

'Give me liberty or give me death.' The mantra flashed through her mind again. The simple phrase had helped give her the strength to resist for three endless, brutal months since she had been kidnapped from her apartment on Earth and brought to Gor to be turned into a slave girl.

She had snarled it at guards and trainers, barked it at the other girls when she saw them weakening, and chanted it to herself when she was being beaten or raped. In the end, sadly, it was all in vain. The rest of the girls were now docile kajira, and she was about to become sleen food.

She heard the growls and snarls of the massive predators, and felt strangely calm. Now that the moment was at hand, she realized that yes, she truly would rather be dead than a slave. Her anger-the fury that had served her so well in the kennels-was quiet but still there, simmering just below the surface, still there if she needed it.

She jerked to a halt, surprising the two men flanking her, and looked up at the one on her left, her electric-blue eyes blazing with defiance.

"I can walk on my own," she snarled in Gorean, and the guard blinked in surprise. A big part of Sally's resistance had been her absolute refusal to say a single word in their language, or even to acknowledge that she could understand any of it.

"How about that?" he said with a smirk. "The little barbarian can speak a civilized language."

Sally rolled her eyes. "Any idiot can learn Gorean in a week. It's barely a language-but I guess it has to be simple so you animals can use it."

She turned back toward the cage, her head held high. The guard raised an arm, as if he was going to strike her, then thought better of it. Why bother when in a few moments she'd be torn to pieces anyway?

Sally thought about her father as she shuffled towards the cage, and for the first time in her life she actually appreciated the rat bastard. She had once told a friend 'the best thing I can say about my Dad is at least he never molested me,' but now she realized that all those times he had used his belt, a switch or his fists on her when she was a little girl had made it possible for her to endure the whippings and beatings she had received on Gor. 

It gave her a huge advantage over the other girls in the kennels. The ones from Earth all seemed to be spoiled rich girls-Sally doubted any of them had ever been struck before. And the Gorean girls all seemed resigned to their fate, having been taught all their lives that the only girls that wore collars were the girls that deserved collars.

Next she thought about Max, and her eyes grew misty. He was the one good thing that had ever happened to her. 

At 16, she had run away from her rural North Dakota home, working her way east all the way to Philadelphia. Those three years had been a tough, hungry time, but she'd survived, and in Philly finally caught a break. She found a job serving drinks in an upscale lounge. 

She was sure she'd been hired because the manager-a butch lesbian lady in her 50s-had enjoyed flirting with her. Sally wasn't interested in girls, but she had learned early in her life to use her looks when she could. She didn't think she was that gorgeous-too skinny and flat-but she was cute, with striking blue eyes, platinum blond hair that had earned her the childhood nickname 'Snow', and a naturally soft, flirty voice. 

The contrast between her angelic looks and fiery personality surprised a lot of people. She had a dangerous temper and had been in more than her share of fights. Small yes-only a couple inches over five feet and barely 100 pounds-but she was stronger than she looked and utterly fearless.

Maxwell Lewis was forty years older than her, and hopelessly smitten from the first time he laid eyes on her. From a distance, it looked like just another horny old man and young golddigger couple, and maybe it was at first. But as they spent time together they grew to care for each other deeply.

He loved her energy, her fire, and the way she attacked any problem head on. In return, she loved how gentle he was, how he lifted her up, exposing her to art and music and a world she'd never even dreamed of before. He helped her get her GED, and encouraged her to take sculpting, ceramics and self-defense classes. She wasn't sure if her feelings for him were love, but the tears she had shed at his funeral were 100% genuine.

She especially loved how secure life was with Max, both emotionally and financially. He was steady and stable. She knew he'd never hurt her, hit her, belittle her or make her feel stupid and worthless. And the money was amazing. She sometimes felt he spent more in an average month than she'd made in her entire life.

For their first wedding anniversary, they'd had a big party. That's where she first met Weston Summerville, who was a junior vice-president in one of Max's companies. He was in his 30s, tall and good looking but with an arrogance she immediately disliked. When he asked her to dance, she was going to refuse but Max insisted. 

Weston had hit on her right there on the dance floor, crudely and appallingly. His approach was basically 'I know the old man isn't giving a hot young thing like you enough sex-why don't you let me make up the difference?' It took all of her self control not to kick his smirking ass right there in front of everybody.

"Yeah, he's a pig," Max had said when she told him about it later, "but sadly he's also the kind of driven, ruthless bastard every company needs a few of. Don't worry about him angel." She hadn't liked it, but she agreed you couldn't fire a guy just for being a sleazeball.

For two years, everything was wonderful. Then one awful night it ended suddenly. They were supposed to co-host a charity art auction, but Max hadn't been feeling good and stayed home. When she got home late that night, he was gone. A massive brain embolism, the doctors told her. He was only 65, and she was a 22 year old widow.

For a few months she was a basket case, lying in bed, her phone turned off, barely able to function. But they'd talked about what would happen after he passed away, and eventually she forced herself back out into the world.

She ran into Summerville again a few weeks later, and this time when he started his slimy I'm-God's-gift-to-women act she DID slap his face, leaving him rubbing his cheek, his eyes burning with anger.

Max had two previous wives and a couple children, but still left her with more than enough to live comfortably, as well as the penthouse apartment they had shared. She once told someone who'd been worried about her financial situation, 'When I was a kid, if you wanted to eat a lot of times it meant you had to go kill something. I'll be fine.' Others wondered how she could stay in a place with so many memories. The truth was, she liked being reminded of Max and their happy time together.

Very late one night, almost ten months after Max's death, she was awakened by noises in the other room. She went to investigate, and their were two men in her apartment-massive, hulking men with long hair and rough features. Before she could scream or run, another man popped up from behind the open bedroom door and clamped a powerful hand over her mouth. 

She kicked and struggled, thrashing wildly, but couldn't escaped his hold. The three brutes surrounded her, and she felt the sting of a needle in her left thigh.

When she woke up, she was naked in a cage on Gor.

There were twenty-one girls in her training group-eight from Earth, the rest Gorean born. Eighteen were left, soon to be seventeen once the sleens were done with her. The first day was lectures, threats, a medical exam and a whipping. The guards, about half of whom spoke English, called it a taste of the strap-five lashes and a warning that any disobedience would be punished by much worse. 

Most of the captives, especially the Gorean girls, were cowed pretty easily, but a few resisted. Sally was one of the last girls whipped, and it did something that surprised her, and scared her a little. When the first blow fell, it lit an angry fire inside her. She was furious. 

The blazing rage roared through her, obliterating the pain and fear. She screamed her defiance and cursed the guards, yanking at the ropes holding her wrists and ankles until they bled. 

They gave her an extra five lashes, but it was just fuel for her fury. The instant they untied her hands she swung at the nearest guard. It wasn't much of a punch, but his eyes widened in surprise-Goreans weren't used to bravery from kajira, let alone violence. 

She continued to thrash and kick and scream as they dragged her to her cage, and in the darkness she yelled obscenities and kicked at the bars with all her strength until finally collapsing from sheer exhaustion, barely noticing the sounds of the other girls whimpering and sobbing all around her.

It was still very dark in the chamber when she woke up. It was then she gave the first of her 'lectures.'

"Who's here?" she called into the gloom. "What are your names?"

A few girls replied, a few just began crying, and some of the Goreans grumbled at her in their strange language.

"Are you American?" Sally continued. There were some answered yeses, as well as a couple girls who identified themselves as Canadian.

"Give me liberty or give me death!" she sang out. "Recognize those words? Our ancestors fought and suffered and died so we could be free! Are you such cowards you're gonna give that up and disgrace their memory just because some asshole taps you on the butt a few times?"

There were murmurs, sniffles and even a couple of 'hell no's', and Sally lay on her back and bent her knees.

"I will NOT be a slave," she snarled. "I will die first."

She began kicking again, bruising her bare feet against the bars. The clanging sound echoed through the chamber, and she grinned when at least two other girls joined her.

A door opened, and some light entered the room. Several guards hustled in, growling angrily and slapping at the girl's cages.

"Stop that! Stop it right this instant!" one of them commanded as others lit lamps and torches. "Any girl that makes any more noise will be whipped!"

"FUCK YOU!" Sally screamed, and kicked even harder, but she was the only one. Sadly, the courage of the other girl's melted when they saw a guard brandish his whip. Several guards surrounded her cage, and she spun around quickly, poised on her hands and knees as one unlocked the door.

The cage was only about four feet high by six feet long, too small to stand but deep enough to stretch out. She braced her feet against the back bars, and when the first guard reached in to grab her she launched herself, shrieking with rage and clawing at his face. 

She managed to draw some blood, but soon found herself back on the X-shaped whipping frame. Ten more lashes did nothing to silence her, and they were forced to gag her.

The second day the girls received collars-simple bands of plain steel hammered into place around their necks-and each one was branded, a cursive letter 'K' burned into their upper left thigh, about the size of a silver dollar.

If Sally had thought she knew anger before, having a mark burned into her flesh made her previous rage seem like mild annoyance. Even gagged, her fury and defiance was obvious, and some of the guards began wondering if a mistake had been made bringing her to their kennel.

It began a pattern that would endure her entire time in captivity. Even as the other girls gave up their pride and dignity, too afraid of punishment to do anything but obey, Sally kept battling. Even seeing other girls killed didn't subdue her. 

The first murder took place after only a few days. She was pretty sure it was planned-the girl was Gorean, probably the least attractive girl in the entire group, and didn't seem any more defiant or inept than any other girl. The guards gathered them all in two rows-Sally gagged, with her hands bound behind her back-and called dragged the victim out of the line. 

One held her arms and yanked her head back by the hair, and another slit her throat. As she lay there bleeding to death, the guard waved his bloody knife at the shocked, crying girls.

"You are slaves. You are property. Your owners can do whatever they wish with you. They can sell you, whip you, maim you, fuck you or kill you and no one will care."

About a week later one of the guards, frustrated when a girl wouldn't stop clutching his leg and begging for mercy, grabbed her by the hair and flung her against a wall. She broke her neck and died. 

And a month into their training, when they moved past simple phrases and poses and started their sexual training, one of the girls panicked when a guard forced her to deep throat him and tried to bite down. They impaled her, and left her hanging on the spike right in the middle of the girl's cages for two days, her screams of agony turning into whimpers and moans as she weakened.

It all just made Sally angrier and more determined to resist.

She did win a few victories. Her second night in the cage, they left her wrists tied behind her back and put a bowl of slave gruel on the ground, expecting to degrade her by forcing her to eat like a dog. Instead, she slipped her feet over the chain and managed to twist and squirm until her hands were in front of her, nearly yanking her arms out of their sockets. 

When they added a second rope up above her elbows the next night, she simply refused to eat, and spent the whole night tugging at her bonds until fresh blood dripped from her fingertips. For three days she ignored the food, convincing them she was serious, and from then on they left her untied in her cage.

They had daily 'classes' in speaking Gorean, beginning with the phrase 'la kajira' (I am a slave), and continuing through simple commands and useful phrases. Sally absolutely refused to say a single word in Gorean. Any time they took her gag out and demanded she say la kajira, she responded with curses and insults.

Whipping her just made her shout them louder, and before too many days her back and buttocks were so welted and raw they couldn't use the lash without risking unsightly scars, which would significantly lower her value as a slave.

Likewise, her wrists and ankles grew so raw and bloody they were reluctant to cuff or tie her, and any time they did she struggled and yanked wildly at the bonds, heedless of the injuries she was causing herself. Eventually they resorted to having a guard hold each hand and foot when they needed to restrain her.

She even got in a few blows of her own. One night when they were still trying to get her to lap her food straight from the bowl like an animal, a guard stuck his arm through the bars to try to pet her hair. She got his thumb in her mouth and bit with all her strength, ripping away the skin and leaving him howling. 

She managed to poke another guard in the eye badly enough that he showed up a few days later wearing an eye patch, and kicked another in the balls hard enough that he collapsed to the ground moaning and puking. 

They tried to force her to kneel-the simplest, most basic slave pose. No amount of slaps or lashes could make her go to her knees voluntarily, so they tried holding her down. As soon as the guard released the pressure on her shoulders, she was struggling back to her feet.

They tied her wrists to her ankles, and she showed her defiance by flopping onto her side. Finally, they tied her to a post, with cords wrapped around her neck, stomach, and legs, but the whole time she rolled her eyes and shook her head, effectively communicating her contempt in spite of the gag silencing her.

The guards also had to separate her from the other girls. Her resistance set a dangerous example, and besides she never passed up a change to exhort the others to stay strong and fight back. 

Slave training is a delicate thing-one set back, one moment of defiance, can undo weeks of work, and slavers make their money by processing girls as quickly as possible. By the second week, the only time the rest of the girls saw her she was fully bound and gagged, her bruised body serving as a warning of the consequences of disobedience.

The one thing Sally couldn't figure out was why they hadn't killed 'her.' It wasn't like she was especially beautiful or desirable-compared to the rest of the girls, she felt pretty plain. And she had done much, much worse things than the girls that had been killed. 

She overheard guards say on several occasions that they considered her a waste of time. Average looks, disobedient, lacking 'slave heat'...but still they kept her prisoner and tried futiley to train her.

The 'heat' issue was probably the most puzzling for the guards. In their arrogance, they were used to the girls they raped moaning and thrashing and showing great enthusiasm-not realizing most of the passion was artificial, a desperate attempt to curry favor and avoid punishment.

Gorean males assume all they have to do is stick their dick in a girl and she'll fall in love with them and be their slave for life. Admittedly, some of the girls did get aroused. When you take everything from a woman-every possible source of happiness, of satisfaction, of joy-it's not surprising she will greedily accept the only pleasure they're allowed to have. 

Sally, on the other hand, hated every second of it, and made her disgust clearly known. 'Training sex' with her was a chore none of the guards wanted.

The answer to why they hadn't killed her had come earlier in the day, and was the reason she was finally bound for the sleen cage. They'd left her pretty much alone for a couple of days, barely even bothering to try to get her to kneel when they brought her gruel (she never would). 

Then this afternoon two guards had come to her cage, one with cuffs and the other carrying a tarn goad. That meant they weren't screwing around. A tarn goad was one thing she couldn't fight. The blast of electrity it emitted was strong enough to affect a bird large and powerful enough to carry two or three warriors, which meant it was more than strong enough to knock a small woman unconsious. 

Sally settled for grumbling 'fine, asshole' when they ordered her to turn and give them her wrists.

The first guard grabbed her by the hair and pulled her along in the 'lead' position, forcing her to stumble along, bent at the waist. He got careless, and forgot who he was dealing with. She twisted her lower body away from him, then took two quick little jab steps and flung herself at his near knee. 

There was an amazingly loud 'CRACK', and he collapsed, clutching his knee and howling. Sally hit the ground with a thud, unable to use her hands to break her fall. Dazed, she still tried to struggle to her feet to get in another blow, but the other guard was on her before she could rise, digging his knee into the small of her back.

"Stupid bitch!" he snarled as more guards surrounded them. The pained moans of the injured guard were music to Sally's ears, and she loudly taunted the wounded man even as three guards picked her up and carried her into a small training chamber.

She thrashed and fought, but in vain. She could more than match the guards in brains and sneakiness, but was no match for their raw strength. In moments, she was suspended in 'rape ropes', tied so securely she could barely move.




Panther Tales Ch. 02



The hanging ropes went around her waist, wrists, elbows, knees and ankles, leaving her sitting in mid-air, her legs spread wide, spitting angry curses at her tormentors.

A man sauntered into the room. He was tall and bare-chested, wearing robes that hung low on his hips. He looked at the helpless girl and smirked.

"They tell me you're a hopeless case. I guess we'll see."

Sally's eyes widened in shock. Her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment as her brain tried to register what it was seeing. Finally, she managed to snarl "You!", turning the single word into an ugly epithet.

Weston Summerville gave her a mocking bow. "You remember me! I'm so pleased," he laughed.

It sometimes seemed to Sally that she had been angry non-stop since her arrival on Gor, but she'd never felt anything like this. She began throwing herself against her ropes, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You motherfucker!" she screamed as she struggled futilely, succeeding only in making her small body bounce in their rope prison. "You son of a bitch! I turned your worthless ass down, so you had me KIDNAPPED and DRAGGED to another fucking PLANET?!?" 

Summerville gave her an arrogant smile that made her blood boil. "Yes little slave girl, it was me. I arranged to have you brought here. Cost me a pretty penny too-but I always get what I want."

Sally was so angry she could barely see. "You asshole!" she shrieked. "I'm gonna rip your tiny little dick off and shove it so far up your fat ass you'll CHOKE on the fucker!"

Summerville ignored her and continued in a calm voice. He was playing the role of Gorean master-always in control of himself and his surroundings.

"They tell me I wasted my money. Let's find out, shall we?"

He dropped his robe, revealing his slick erection. Warned about her lack of response, he had prepared by smearing massage oil on his cock. The thick shaft bobbed as he moved between her wide open legs.

She was still snarling curses and threats as her pushed into her, a triumphant smile on his face. Finally! After all these months of waiting, she was his!

"The only reason...you're still alive...is because I already...paid for you," he managed to gasp in between grunts of pleasure. She was wonderfully tight, and he swelled even harder as he forced himself into her inch by inch, ignoring her angry rantings.

"This is the first...I've been able to get here...since you were taken...ohhhhh!" 

He groaned with lust as he shoved the last inch in, gripping her slim hips and pulling her body to him. He stared down at her angry face, buried to the hilt in her soft pussy.

Finally, the reality of her rape broke past her fury. It brought out another side of her defiance-she knew from experience how to deal with this situation!

"I thought you were gonna rape me," she mocked. "When are you gonna put it in?"

Sally looked down between her legs. "Oh crap you did! You're just so fucking small I didn't even realize!"

Summerville snarled with anger and slapped her face, then started pumping, confident her helpless position and his powerful thrusts would soon ignite her passion even against her will. He couldn't have been more wrong. 

She continued to mock him mercilessly as he slid in and out, and finally in frustration he called for one of the guards and had her gagged. That took away one of her weapons, but she had others. She had learned that even gagged, you could form words deep in your throat, almost like a ventriloquist. The phrase she growled was muffled but unmistakeable.

"Eat shit!"

Then she closed her eyes and let her head droop, making 'zzzzzzz' noises, feigning sleep.

At last, after ten minutes of fruitless pounding, Summerville gave up. The lube was drying, his dick was getting chafed, and he could see just how right her trainers were.

The bitch was useless.

He had never been more disappointed. All those weeks, dreaming of coming to the kennel to find her, trained and docile, kneeling and eager to please him, dissipated. He grabbed his robe and left the room.

The Chief Trainer was waiting for him. "I am sorry my Lord," he began. "We tried every technique we have. Of course we will refund your fee."

"I don't give a shit about the gold," Summerville snarled. "Feed the bitch to your sleens."

*****

The lead guard was putting his key in the sleen cage's lock, and the beasts within were beginning to howl eagerly, when Sally and the guards heard a voice.

"What in the three moons is this all about?" 

*****

Thank you for your feedback! More to come!



Panther Tales Ch. 03



Author's note-as always, all characters in this story are 18 years of age or older if they engage in any kind of sexual activity.

*****

"What in the three moons is this all about?" 

Sally and her guards looked up in surprise as the deep voice rang through the small courtyard. A lone man approached, dressed in a worn but fine quality tunic and breeches. They were red with gold trim, identifying him as a Warrior, but even were he only wearing rags there would have been no doubting his caste. Even casually strolling, the man moved with a powerful, dangerous grace.

He was careful not to appear threatening, keeping his empty hands in plain sight and his movements slow and measured. He stopped a few feet away and looked over the scene, a small smile on his face. 

"Well?" he asked again. "What's the story here?"

The guard still standing next to Sally cleared his throat. "Just disposing of some trash, my Lord."

The warrior let his eyes roam over Sally's nude form. "Girl!" he snapped. "Don't you know enough to kneel in the presence of a free man?"

She turned away and took another shuffling step towards the cage, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, still refusing to acknowledge anything said in Gorean. The second guard chuckled.

"She's a disobedient little bitch. Useless for anything but feeding the sleens."

The warrior's smile widened. "Such a tiny thing will barely be enough for a mouthful."

"Her owner ordered it, my Lord. He's given up on her."

The warrior's expression grew thoughtful. "Seems like such a waste. Tell you what-I'll take the girl off your hands for a copper each."

"We can't. We have our orders," the guard at the cage door replied. "And anyway you'd just be wasting your coin. The girl is untrainable."

He smirked. "All girls can be trained. And I like a challenge. Make it two coppers each. I'm only going to be in the area a couple more days. No one will ever know you made a profit off her."

The guards exchanged a glance, and the first one nodded slightly.

"All right, it's a deal." the second said. "But I have to warn you again-this one is hopeless. We've had her for three months and she's just as wild and defiant as the day she arrived."

The warrior pulled a few coins out and handed them to the men. "Well, if I can't make any headway, I'm headed towards Ko-Ro-Ba soon. A few weeks in those kennels will make a proper kajira out of the little beast."

Sally watched the whole transaction silently, keeping her expression blank. The first guard grabbed her arm and spoke to her in English.

"Congratulations girl. You're a true kajira now-you've just been sold."

Sally snorted in contempt. "Fuck that," she snarled, and tried to pull away, but the guard spun her bodily to face the warrior, gripping her biceps firmly.

"Ugly motherfucker," she spat, and the guard laughed.

"Does she speak any Gorean?" the warrior asked. "What did she say?"

"She does. She just refuses to. And you don't want to know what she said."

Sally's new owner reached out a hand and stroked her cheek possessively. "Don't worry, little beast," he crooned. "You'll find I'm a good Master-very demanding but very fair."

Her white teeth flashed as she twisted her head and snapped at his wrist. He jerked his hand away, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"She is untrained!" he laughed. Suddenly his expression grew dark. Quick as a flash, he had a handful of her long blond hair, jerking her head back and glaring into her eyes.

"Don't try that again little slave," he growled. She sneered at him.

"My lord," the second guard interjected. "Someone may come along any second."

The warrior nodded. "Good doing business with you. Come along girl." He put a big hand on the back of her neck and began guiding her away. Sally responded by going limp, letting her body fall gently to the ground.

"Good luck!" one of the guards sang out, and they left, laughing softly. The warrior looked down at his newest purchase and shook his head.

"I know you understand me, girl. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Sally looked up at him, her electric-blue eyes blazing. "Fuck you," she snarled in English.

"As you wish," he replied, and yanked her to her feet. He was a large, powerful man even by Gorean standards, and it took no effort to throw the small girl up over his shoulder. She squirmed and thrashed uselessly as he carried her away, trying and failing to spin her body around enough to bite him.

He gave her a couple hard swats on the rump, but instead of getting her to settle down it just fueled her anger, and she writhed even more frantically. A few more steps and he set her down with surprising gentleness. Sally tried to roll away, but he pinned her in place with one sandalled foot. As she growled and cursed, he took a length of binding fiber from his pack.

Quickly and efficiently, he tied the fiber around the ropes on her wrists and ankles, hog-tying her. A simple cloth gag quieted her to tolerable levels, and he hoisted her back on his shoulder.

"Dealing with slaves is simple," he said, giving her another whack on the butt. "For every problem they cause, there's a solution."

They turned a corner, and she got to see a Gorean city for the first time.

Superficially, it resembled a Colonial era Earth city, all wood and stone and people on foot. There were shops with hand-painted signs, street vendors selling their wares out of carts with wooden wheels, and a group of children chasing each other around, laughing and squealing with delight. It was the adults that made it clear this wasn't Earth.

Sally saw huge, burly Gorean males working bare-chested; Free Women in their elaborate robes and veils, always accompanied by guards or suitors; collared slave girls in their beautiful, skimpy silks or sometimes stark naked, scurrying about on their errands or trailing their Master or Mistress like a faithful puppy dog; and once a squad of soldiers wearing matching breastplates and carrying long spears.

Few of them even glanced at the man carrying a bound, naked girl over his shoulder, and the ones that did either nodded a respectful greeting or simply ignored what was apparently a common sight. The casual acceptance of her situation made Sally realize just how alone she was. No one would help her. No one cared that she was a kidnapped prisoner. She was truly on her own.

After about fifteen minutes, they passed through a gate and out of the city. Sally noted that there was a large group of well armed guards at the entrance, checking and inspecting everyone coming in to the city, but just one at the exit, and all he did was nod and say 'be well.' Apparently it was a lot easier to leave than to enter.

She was carried down a hard dirt road, then they turned on a smaller path. She could still see the city walls when she heard shouts of greeting. Carried feet-first, she couldn't see where they were going until after they had arrived.

It was a kind of camp, with several large tents half-circling around a fire pit. A simple stockade-a row of poles pushed into the ground-arched around half the camp, and at the back of the area was a high, imposing barrier of thick, thorny bushes. Another man in Warrior garb stood sentry at a gap between the poles, and welcomed her captor back warmly.

"Did a little shopping eh?" he laughed, and the man carrying her chuckled.

"You know I'm a sucker for a bargain!"

He carried her to one of the tents as she looked all around, alert for anything that might be useful. She saw about a dozen warriors, mostly lounging around on small stools or on the ground, and a few girls doing chores. Most of the men raised a hand or called 'Tal' as her captor strode through the camp. 

He pushed through the tent flap and set Sally down, not too roughly, on a pile of fur blankets. It was near dusk, and the interior of the tent was shadowy. It was about fifteen feet square and sparsely furnished-a few chests of various sizes, a brazier, several plain three-legged stools, and two big piles of furs.

There was a wooden stake driven into the ground just behind her, sticking up about three feet, with a chain dangling from the top. He turned her collar so the single O-ring was in the back, then clipped it to the chain. He ran his hand down her long blond hair, eliciting more muffled snarls of anger from her throat.

He unsheathed a plain dagger and crouched down next to her. "Hold still little beast," he said mildly, "I'm going to free your legs. Don't thrash or you might get cut."

He sliced the hogtie rope up by her hands, then slipped the dagger under the binds on her ankles and cut them away, making a dismayed sound when her saw the raw condition of her ankles.

"We have some salve that will help that. If you're good, we won't have to keep tying you up and you can heal."

As soon as she realized her legs were untied, she scrambled away, pushing with her feet until she was as far from him as the chain would allow. She glared up angrily and bent her knees, ready to kick if he approached, but he merely chuckled and stood up.

"I have a few things to attend to girl. I'll be back shortly."

He put his knife back in it's sheath and walked out. Sally noted how the tent flap opened to the right when he pulled it back.

She silently counted to ten, forcing herself to remain motionless, listening carefully for any sounds, her eyes scanning the tent for useful items. Her teeth clenched as she rolled up onto her knees.

'Idiot didn't even ask the guards what I was capable of,' she thought angrily as she pulled her hands apart as far as they would go, then hooked her toes over the rope binding her wrists behind her back. She fell on her side, grunting and panting with strain as she worked her legs through, inch by agonizing inch. It stretched her arms and shoulders nearly to the tearing point, and cost her a little skin off her knees, but finally she had her hands in front of her.

Quickly, she unhooked herself from the chain and yanked the gag out of her mouth. She stood up shakily, her legs and especially her arms cramped and stiff from the bonds, and picked up a log from next to the brazier. It was about three feet long, and thicker than ideal, but she could hold it easily enough with both hands.

She moved one of the little stools over by the tent's door flap, placing it so anyone entering would have to push the material between himself and her. She climbed up, resting the log on her shoulder, and waited.

Anyone who saw her at that moment would have run in the other direction as fast as they could move. Her face was a grim mask of determination. Her mouth kept twitching, and her blue eyes burned as her rage simmered, just waiting for the right moment to erupt into violence.

At last, she heard footsteps approaching, and she eased the log off her shoulder, her heart pounding as the adrenaline began to flow in earnest. She bent her knees a little and her muscles tensed as she silently prayed the bastard hadn't decided to bring someone else in to show off his new slave. Even thinking of the word made her lip curl in anger.

He stepped through the opening, careless in his arrogance. As soon as his head appeared, Sally stepped off the stool and swung the hunk of firewood with all her strength, letting gravity add to the force of the blow as she fell.

The wood connected with a 'thud', and he staggered forward one step before falling on his knees and elbows. Sally managed to stay on her feet, and brought the makeshift club down two more times. He made one small moaning sound, then sprawled on his face on the dirt floor of the tent. She had cracked his head open, and the flowing blood was very dark in the gloom.

Moments passed, and she wrinkled her nose as the smell of death filled the tent. She looked down at the body-the first person she'd ever killed-and realized she felt nothing. It didn't feel like murder. It was more akin to killing a pesky skunk or raccoon back home. 

'Fucker deserved it,' she thought, and went to work moving him deeper into the tent. He was far too heavy to lift or even drag, so she was forced to roll him back to the furs. She piled more furs on top of his corpse, hiding his body.

She began digging through the chests. She found a shirt she could wear-it was baggy as hell and hung down almost to her knees, but it was the best option she had.

In another chest she found a few keys on a string. She tried them on her cuffs, and somewhat surprisingly the third one unlocked them. Apparently Gorean slave owners commonly used cuffs that could be opened with a common key. Finally a piece of luck!

She kept looking. She wasn't going to leave the tent until very late, when hopefully the only person out and about would be the guard at the entrance-or maybe he would even be asleep! She shook her head-that was probably too much to wish for.

She found a pack she could wear over her shoulder, and threw in a dagger, a second shirt, a sort of gourd that looked like it would work as a canteen, and a big handful of gold coins. She had no idea how much money it was, but it sure seemed like a lot.

Finally, she felt she was as prepared as she could possibly be. She sat on the stool close by the door, the warrior's sword across her knees, and munched on a kind of biscuit. It was dry and tasteless, but it was food. She looked with longing at the sword, but knew she couldn't take it with her. It was too hard to run carrying something so bulky, and if she was spotted before she got out of the camp there was no way to explain having it.

Thirsty, tired, but excited by the prospect of escape and freedom, she waited. If anyone came in, she decided she would try to kill him and then make a run for it. She knew her chances weren't good, but at least she could go down fighting-and maybe take a couple of the animals with her.

Time crawled by as Sally sat and thought, trying to remember everything smart she could think of about being a fugitive. She thought back on the hunting and camping lessons her brothers had given her as a little girl. The phrase 'the human eye is attracted to movement' kept popping into her head, reminding her that sometimes her best move would be to not move at all.

There were occasional bursts of noise from the camp, but no one peeked in-she assumed no one wanted to bother a man who was busy 'enjoying' a new play toy. Finally she couldn't stand to wait any longer. Feeling a bit silly with a dead body in the same room, she took a few minutes to stretch out her arms and legs.

Then she shouldered the pack, picked up the firewood, took a deep breath, and slipped out of the tent.

She took a couple steps to her left and froze, watching and listening. There was no activity, but it wasn't that dark. A few embers still shone in the fire pit, and the reflection of Gor's three moons kept the night from being too black.

She took a moment to look up at those moons, and for a brief moment the hopelessness of her plight threatened to overwhelm her. She was alone and friendless, not just in another state or country, but on an alien planet!

She took another deep breath and clenched her jaw. 'Feel sorry for yourself later,' she thought. 'Right now we have shit to do.'

She spotted the exit to the camp, and the guard sitting on a stool. She walked over slowly, her head bowed, trying her best to look meek and frightened. When she saw him turn her way and stand up, she started babbling nonsense in Gorean.

"Master...my Master wants...Master said to...ummm the Master asked if you..." she mumbled as she moved closer and closer. The guard watched her, an amused smirk on his face.

"Master needs...please Master..." she continued until she was only a couple steps away. Then she looked past his left shoulder and opened her eyes wide, as if surprised.

"What the hell is that?" she squeaked, staring at nothing.

The guard fell for it. He started to turn to look, and she flung herself at him, swinging the log, putting every ounce of her weight behind the blow. The wood slammed into his jaw and he crumpled like a boxer that just took a perfect right cross.

She put her small hands on one end of the piece of wood and hammered it down onto his head, dropping to her knees with the force of her effort. There was a sickening 'crunch,' and when she looked his jaw was hanging at an impossible angle.

She didn't waste one second to check if he was still alive. With a quick glance behind her, she scurried out through the gate and into the night.

As she ran, she thought about how she had been brought to the camp. It seemed like the city should be to her left, and she peered into the dark until she caught a glimpse of it's shadowy walls.

'OK,' she thought. 'City to the left-we go right.'

She forced herself not to sprint, keeping a steady, ground-eating pace. She was appalled at how quickly she started to breathe heavily. All those weeks of being caged and bound so much had ruined her cardio fitness. She was forced to vary her speed-jog, walk, run, walk-giving herself some rest as she moved.

What mattered what putting as much distance as possible between herself and the camp before morning came and they discovered the two bodies, or maybe one body and one injured man. When her side began to ache, when her legs began to wobble, when her breath came in ragged gasps, she forced herself to keep going.

Looking up into the alien sky again, she saw an exceptionally bright star. She made the arbitrary decision that she would follow that star. At least that would help keep her from going in circles.

She chose to stay within sight of the main road. It was mostly open fields here, with a few patches of trees. All she wanted now was to find water and a place to hide before dawn broke.

On and on she walked and ran, only her will and her fear keeping her going. At last, when she was staggering with fatigue, she made the decision to head for a fairly large stand of trees about a mile to her right. At least she could find a place to hide and sleep.

She caught another break. There was a tiny pond, no bigger than a backyard goldfish pond on Earth, between the road and the trees. She fell on her belly and stuck her head in the cool water, than drank her fill.

A few more steps and she was in tiny forest. Her muscles trembling from exhaustion, she managed to drag a couple deadfalls together and crawled under them. Taking the dagger out of her pack, she clutched it tightly and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.



Panther Tales Ch. 04



(Thanks to everyone for the comments and votes! We're getting there, and yes eventually there WILL be an erotic element to this story! As always, any character in any of my stories that engages in any kind of sexual activity is over the age of 18.) 

*

Sally dropped to her hands and knees as she reached the edge of the tall grass, her eyes locked on the small hamlet about thirty yards ahead. This was as close as she could get before breaking cover, and she wanted to be sure there was no movement in the night.

The two harsh, hungry weeks since she'd escaped captivity had transformed her. None of the people she'd known on Earth would recognize her now. The combination of travelling, fear and not quite enough food had melted away every surplus ounce, and what was left was all stringy, corded muscle.

She felt as tough as a strip of beef jerky.

The biggest change was her hair, or more accurately her lack of hair. After only a couple days, she'd taken the dagger and hacked off as much of her hair as she could. It was cooler, easier to deal with and now there was nothing on top of her head for an enemy to grab.

Plus, it made her less attractive, and to Sally's mind that was a plus. Several guards had commented about her beautiful long hair, and the last thing she wanted was to look beautiful. Maybe if she uglied herself up, the slave catchers and other animals would pass her by without a second look.

Her face was still pretty, but thin and drawn, and her expression was grim and determined. Her most recognizable feature was still her large, electric-blue eyes. They blazed with intensity as she stared into the dim night.

She hadn't starved. The first night she risked eating some berries, and they turned out to be sweet and juicy and (thankfully) not poisonous. She remembered thinking 'if these are gonna kill me, I hope it's at least fast' as she tossed the first one into her mouth.

She'd found two types of berries and two kinds of fruit that she could eat. She'd also armed herself, making a sling from her spare shirt, and managed to kill a couple small, rabbit-size rodents and a few birds.

Her older brother had taught her to use a sling, way back when she was a little girl growing up dirt-poor on Earth. 'If a cop or game warden sees you with a gun, or a bow, it's hard to pretend you're not hunting,' he'd said as he twisted his sling and tied it around his head. 'But a sling? In a few seconds it's just a head band.'

She'd giggled and used her own sling to tie her long blond hair into a ponytail. 'Or a scrunchie,' she said, and he laughed and squeezed her shoulder affectionately.

He'd taught her a lot that was useful in her current situation. How to move quietly, how to set simple snare traps, how to skin and clean what they killed, how to use a sling to hurl a rock with deadly accuracy. It had been years since she'd hunted that way, but it came back with a little practice.

Unfortunately, she didn't dare make a fire and risk being seen, so she was forced to eat her kills raw. She cut each animal open, found what she thought was the heart and liver, and used her dagger to chop them into pieces small enough to swallow whole. The first time, her stomach had churned for a few moments until it decided it liked being fed and settled down.

Still, it was much better to steal food from villages. The little farming communities were spread out about two days walk apart, and every one had yielded something. Goreans apparently didn't have watch dogs, and they didn't post guards in these tiny towns, so slipping in and out was pretty easy as long as she was silent and quick.

In every one, she'd managed to find something either drying or being smoked. A couple times she'd even snuck into one of the dwellings. Gorean peasants didn't have locks--the poorer villages didn't even have proper doors, just hide flaps. She wondered if it was because they had no enemies, or were just too fatalistic to care.

One of the most useful things she'd stolen was a simple piece of cloth, almost like a towel. She'd wrapped her hands and feet with strips of the soft, thick material. She always liked being barefoot back on Earth, and during her time in the kennels she hadn't had shoes to wear, so her feet were used to rough conditions.

Still, a little protection helped. Her hands she wrapped to better use her other new weapon. She'd found a long, straight pole almost as long as she was tall. It was another lesson from her brother. 'A big stick is better than a sword. It gives you a longer reach, it's easier to use, and you won't accidentally cut your hand off.'

She practiced with it as she walked under the Gorean moons--twirling it, spinning it, blocking imaginary strikes and thrusting back in attack. She wasn't sure how well she'd fare in an actual battle, but at least she'd have a fighting chance. Plus it strengthened her arms.

For now, she set the pole and her pack down and drew her dagger. She crept cautiously from her cover, headed for the nearest building--it was the smallest in the little village, and she pegged it for the smokehouse. 

When she reached the small building, she leaned her head against the outer wall, listening and sniffing. The air here on Gor was remarkably pure, and it almost seemed like her senses were more keen than before. She heard nothing but the normal night sounds around her, and her mouth watered at the smell of roasted meat.

Carefully, she slipped her hand between the hanging hides covering the doorway and tossed in a handful of rocks, then spun away, her back pressed against the wall, her dagger at the ready. If there was anyone inside, the rattle of the pebbles would hopefully draw him out.

Moments passed and nothing happened. With a last look around, she slipped inside.

Jackpot! Just inside the door was a bird of some kind, about the size of a chicken, roasted and salted and hanging to dry. She grabbed it and dashed away, her small feet making almost no sound on the grass and dirt.

She allowed herself a rare smile as she gathered up her meager possessions. No rumbling stomach tonight!

She looked up, finding the odd looking star she'd been following from the beginning, and hurried to put some distance between herself and the village before morning. For a good mile she stayed low, her fighting staff clutched in her right hand.

Sally didn't know, but she was travelling almost due north/northwest. If you had a map of Gor, you could draw a line at a 45 degree angle from the city of Besnit towards the northern forests and be copying her route almost perfectly.

It was excellent farming country, rich black soil and fertile valleys mixed with small patches of forest--hence all the small peasant communities. Slavers didn't bother the farmers much--they were too important in feeding the cities.

She stopped and sliced off a generous chunk of breast meat, than walked briskly, eating as she moved. Another couple hours and it would be time to find a hiding spot and sleep through the daylight.

If a person had to be a wandering fugitive, there were certainly worse places than Gor. Yes, there was the ever present danger of slavers and outlaws, but intelligence and caution greatly reduced that risk. 

For one thing, the weather was ideal--warm days, cool nights, never terribly humid. Even the couple times it had rained, it was a warm rain--not too uncomfortable to be stuck out in.

Also, it seemed to Sally that, compared to Earth, there was less life on Gor. Back home, going into a wooded area meant being immediately surrounded by clouds of annoying gnats and misquitos. Here there weren't very many bugs. As a consequence, there were also far fewer birds.

She shuddered to think about trying to sleep under (or in) fallen trees back on Earth. It would have meant sharing your 'bed' with countless spiders and insects, worms and grubs, creepies and crawlies. Here, however, it wasn't even an issue.

'All right, so Hell is rather pleasant,' she thought, feasting on her stolen bird. 'Too bad it's full of demons.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two mornings later, Sally woke with a start to all kinds of noises.

She had burrowed into a brushy thicket for the day, after walking around it several times, checking it carefully in the Gorean moonlight to make sure she'd be well concealed. It scratched her up a little, but hell--she was already covered with scratches, so what were a few more?

She wiggled in the direction of the sounds and peered out through the leaves. Without even realizing it, she had stopped within view of what appeared to be a Gorean highway. Her eyes widened as she watched a caravan of carts pass, each one pulled by two or four large, furry animals that reminded her a little of Earth bison.

At least twenty of the wooden wheeled wagons went by. About half had an armed soldier walking alongside. Some were loaded with logs, some filled with crates. A couple had cages filled with live, squawking birds. And one had a very large cage filled with beautiful, terrified looking girls.

The sight made her blood boil, and her teeth clenched with anger. She had to fight the urge to run screaming to the road and start swinging her pole. It would be a suicide mission, and all she could do was watch helplessly from her hiding spot.

It wasn't the first time Sally had seen caged slave girls on her journey. In one of the villages she had entered, there had been six naked girls sleeping in a cage, piled together like kittens. She had ached to smash open the cage and rescue the girls, but knew she couldn't.

Even if they could get away without waking up the villagers, she knew from her time in the kennels how the girls would act. Meek, cringing, easily terrified, prone to panic and incapable of doing anything without being told. As awful as it was, she had to leave them where they were.

For all she knew, if she tried to rescue them they'd probably scream for help from their captors, and then she'd be in a cage too.

She shook her head, hating this place that reduced some women to such a pitiful state, and squirmed deeper into her bushes. She closed her eyes and slept, knowing she needed to be alert when night came and she had to cross that highway.

Sally slept lightly, fitfully, seeming to pop awake as every new group passed on the highway. She was all too aware of how vulnerable she was, and how easy it would be for someone to find her with only a cursory search around her hiding spot, and how impossible it was for her to escape quickly. All she could do was stay still and quiet and hope no Gorean decided to go for a wander.

The day seemed endless, but finally the sun set and traffic on the road slowed to a trickle--nothing but an occasional single cart, or a rider or two on what looked like wierd, mutant horses. It seemed safe enough for her to crawl out of her hiding spot. Keeping the bushes between herself and the highway, she stretched her stiff muscles, peed, and stretched some more.

Gripping her fighting stick tightly, she approached the road, ready to dive to her stomach at the first sight or sound of approaching Goreans. Her heart pounding, she broke into an all-out sprint, dashing across the stone surface of the highway, not stopping until she crested a small hill a couple hundred yards beyond. Gasping, she collapsed on her back, staring up at those three insane moons.

When her breathing was back to normal, she took a couple long drinks of water, and cut the remainder of her meat in half. 'Not much left of either,' she thought as she walked briskly, eating on the move. She knew she needed to put some distance between herself and that road for safety's sake.

Several hours later, the wild grass turned into some type of grain crop, and she knew from past experience that meant a village was near. Sure enough, off in the distance she saw buildings. It was easily the largest she had seen in her travels, and she skirted around until the star she had been following was directly behind her when she faced the farming community.

She set her pack and pole on the ground, drew her dagger, and went towards the village. Now when she left, all she had to do was head straight for her 'guiding star', and she could find her stuff.

It was very late at night, and there were no lights, no sounds, no movement at all in the community. Sally assumed all the hard-working peasants were sound asleep. Hanging on three hooks on the outer wall of one of the huts was a dress, or gown. 

She looked down at the man's shirt she was wearing. It was tattered and filthy. She had dunked herself in water whenever she was lucky enough to find a big enough pond, but the idea of new, clean clothing was irresistible. The dress was too long, and would be baggy on her skinny frame, but she had her dagger and could easily make some crude alterations.

She was reaching for it when something caught her eye. There was a kind of palisade ahead, like an enclosed, fenced-in area. Curious, she crept closer and peered between the wooden slats--and sucked in a shocked breath.

There was an enormous bird within, crouched down and apparently sleeping. 'Like something from a fucking Godzilla movie,' she thought as she stared in wide eyed wonderment. The thing was bigger than an SUV.

'It must be a tarn,' she thought. She had heard the guards talk about the giant birds that could be raced or used in battle like prehistoric fighter planes. An image of Fred Flintstone flying over a battlefield, throwing big rocks and yelling 'yabba dabba doo!' popped into her head, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle hysterical giggles.

'Damn I'm tired,' Sally thought. 'I need to get those clothes and find a spot to sleep.'

She took one last look at the massive, silver-grey bird--and almost screamed when it opened one fist-sized eye. She froze, scarcely daring to breathe, as the creature appraised her through the fence. Then it made a soft noise, ruffled it's feathers, and seemed to go back to sleep.

Sally let out a long, ragged breath. 'Fuck this,' she whispered to herself. 'Time to go.'

She gently took the dress down off it's hooks--apparently Goreans hadn't invented clothespins yet-- and folded it under her arm. It was green and brown with some gold trim, the fabric very soft and not too heavy. She gave it a little stroke, and then almost had a stroke when a deep voice rang out through the darkness.

"What are you doing?"

She wheeled and saw a man walking towards her. He was wearing a knee length white shirt, like a Victorian night gown, extremely bright in the dark night. A typical Gorean male, he towered over her, and his steps ate up the distance between them.

"What are you doing there, girl?" he demanded again, and Sally fled.

"HEY!" he yelled, and she saw tiny pinpoints of light begin to appear in other huts as she raced away. She looked up, finding her star, and hauled ass out of the village.

If she hadn't found them right away, she would have abandoned her pack and pole, but she got lucky and almost tripped over them. She muttered 'shit shit shit' as she hastily grabbed up her stuff, and for the second time that night flew into a flat-out sprint. The man lumbered after her for a bit, but stopped when he got to the sown fields.

Sally didn't stop running until she had a stitch in her side and was starting to see black spots before her eyes. 'Fuck, that was too close!' she thought as she slowed to a panting, limping walk.

Sally climbed to the top of a small hillock and looked around, scanning the darkness behind her with concern. She didn't see or hear anything, so she took a few moments to rest and change into her new clothes. As expected, the garment designed for larger Gorean women fit her like a tent, but she had her dagger to make some improvised alterations.

She sliced off most of the sleeves, and hacked off the skirt just above her knees. The dress was very soft on the inside too, and roomy enough not to inhibit her movements even if she kicked or did a splits.

She cut her old, ragged shirt into strips, and with some experimentation was able to rig a way to tie her pole to her back. It was much easier to run or walk with the pole strapped to her body instead of having to hold it in her hand.

She took a big gulp of water, and rose with a sigh. As tired as she was, she still knew her safety depended on movement, and she guessed there were still a couple hours of darkness left before dawn broke.

Sally walked as quickly as her exhausted legs allowed, as far as she could go, pausing only once to fill her water gourd and dunk her head in a small, cool stream. She was nearly staggering with fatigue when she finally spotted a decent spot to hide for the day. Her cover wasn't as good as it should have been, but she was simply too tired to care. She lay down, using her pack as a pillow, and was sound asleep in seconds.

It was still bright daylight when she was awakened by loud noises--banging, clanking, thumping sounds, and ominous shouts. Her legs groaned as she rose to her knees to check the commotion.

Her breath caught when she saw the source of all the noise. A dozen men, coming from the direction she had been fleeing, stretched out in a long line, banging sticks on shields and kettles, making as much noise as possible. The closest were maybe a hundred yards away, headed straight towards her.

'Ahhh fuck,' she hissed, and frantically grabbed for her pole and pack. No time to tie the big stick in place, no reason for stealth, she burst from her hiding spot and ran, ignoring the way her stiff legs protested.

The shouts behind her grew louder, the pounding noises more intense, but the men didn't start running in pursuit. They kept up their steady pace, and one produced a horn and began blowing long, loud notes.

'All this bother for one fucking dress?' she thought angrily, but she knew it wasn't about the dress--it was about the possibility of capturing a slave girl.

As she dashed across the grass, most of the noise behind her stopped. She risked a look back, and noted that most of her pursuers had stopped and were looking skyward. She followed their gazes, and the sight chilled her.

It was the tarn, now with a rider perched on its back, flying straight for her. Something was hanging down its right side.

She watched for a moment, her forehead creased in puzzlement. A lasso? Did he really think he could catch her that easily?

She turned and ran some more as a stray thought popped into her head--something she had heard or read long before. 'Runners run--they don't attack.' Her lip curled as that thought led to another memory of her brother, and how angry he would get watching horror movies.

'They always just panic and run, or do something stupid like hide in a closet. That's so dumb! Don't just run--run with a purpose. Look for a weapon, look for an ambush spot, look for a way to fight back. Idiots!'

Sally wasn't just running. She was running with a purpose.

When she saw the huge bird's shadow, she stopped and turned. The leather noose came closer and closer, swinging down some thirty feet. She waited until the last second, then flung herself in an easy roll to her right, dodging the trap and immediately springing to her feet to run some more.

She kept her eyes open as she ran. There! Off to her left--rocks! Ammunition!

Again, the tarn's shadow fell on her, and she spun, her weight on the balls of her feet. This time, she dropped straight down, breaking her fall with her forearms as the tarn rider swung the lasso to her right. Goreans were so predictable. He expected her to keep doing the same thing.

Goreans do not cope well with the unexpected. The tarn circled now, as if thinking. The rider had obviously expected her to just run in terror until he could drop the lasso around her. 




Panther Tales Ch. 04



'Sorry buddy, I'm not that dumb,' she muttered as she reached the stones. She shrugged her pack off her shoulder and dropped her pole, jerking the knot that tied her sling to her right thigh. Bending, she quickly found two suitable rocks. One she loaded into the sling and the other she held as the bird approached again.

It was a long shot, but a huge target. Three times she twirled her sling, then let the rock fly. It didn't connect solidly, but the glancing blow was enough to make the tarn flinch and the lasso miss her. Fast as lightening, she sent another stone into the air. This one hit, smacking the bird in the side, just in front of the wing.

It screamed and turned away and up. It looked like the rider was struggling to control his mount.

Sally wasn't aware that she was grinning widely. 'You thought you were an eagle taking on a mouse, didn't you? But this little mouse has claws!'

She loaded up again as the rider took the tarn up high, than dove towards her. She should have been terrified, but her adrenaline was pumping and she stood her ground.

'It's a bird. It flies. That means hollow bones. No matter how big the fucker is, it can't be that tough.'

Her next rock missed, although it came close enough to the rider that his body jerked. The follow up, though, nailed the tarn on the beak, rocking it's big head violently.

It was hard to tell which was louder--the bird's scream of anger and pain, or Sally's scream of delight.

She waved her arms, beckoning, challenging the rider. "Come on, asshole!" she screamed. "Plenty more where that came from!"

Twice more the tarn dove at her, and twice more she drove it away with solid blows to its feathered chest. The bird's cry after the last stone struck it contained a new note--fear. Its flight path seemed to turn erratic.

She looked back as the tarn circled away. None of the villagers were anywhere to be seen. She assumed they had gone home, confident that the tarn and rider would deal her with.

'Arrogant bastards,' she thought as she watched the bird slowly drop. Was he trying a new tactic? Coming in low and fast?

No! He was landing!

She practically danced with glee as she watched the warrior dismount, a tarn goad clutched in his right hand. She felt like she had won round one.

He stopped maybe fifty feet away.

"Kajira that handle or use weapons are executed!" he shouted.

Sally snorted. "Well, if I see any kajira, I'll be sure to tell them." she answered.

"You are in big trouble, little slave girl. Stealing, attacking a warrior, running away--you will die screaming in agony."

"Eat sleen shit," Sally snarled. "I am NO ONE'S slave!"

He took a few steps towards her, keeping a wary eye on the sling and rock in her hand. "Kneel now, and beg for forgiveness, and maybe I'll spare your life."

She couldn't help it. She laughed out loud.

"Shit. I got a better idea. Why don't YOU kneel and beg for mercy, and maybe I'll spare YOUR worthless life!"

The man's features twisted in anger, and he charged.

Sally's arm spun. She waited...waited...aiming low like her brother had taught her...and finally let the missile fly. It slammed into the warrior's thigh, and he fell to one knee with a grunt of pain. Another stone followed almost instantly, and he instinctively raised his arm to protect his head. The rock smashed into his right elbow, and the goad fell to the grass.

She flung one more stone, but missed. A few quick steps and she had her fighting pole in her hands, and rushed him as he struggled to his feet. The goad shook in his left hand, and he held his injured right arm close to his body.

Sally was done talking. Her blue eyes blazed as she took out half a years frustration and anger on the man. The pole was a blur in her hands as she spun it, raining down blows with both ends. The tarn goad went flying. There were loud cracking sounds as arms and ribs shattered, and she drove him to his knees. Finally, a two-handed blow crashed into the side of his head, and he slumped down, unconscious.

Panting, she looked down at the man's still form. "Yabba dabba doo, motherfucker," she snarled, and the pole hammered down on his head again and again. She didn't stop until her arms were so tired she could barely lift her pole. His skull looked like a melon someone had tossed off a roof.

Sally threw her head back and howled her triumph and fury.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead and looked over at the tarn. It stood placidly in the same spot it had landed.

Slowly, she approached the huge bird, frowning when she saw the harness and straps.

"Poor thing," she said quietly. "You're a slave too."

The huge bird looked down at her calmly. Apparently its tiny tarn brain didn't connect this small human with the enemy that had been flinging stones at it minutes ago.

There was a scabbard hanging from the tarn's left side. She gently drew out the sword.

"I would have brought this. Not that it would have mattered."

The tarn watched her with mild interest as she used the sword to cut away the harness, saddle and packs. She removed everything that had been strapped to it.

"We are not enemies," she told the bird, and laid a hand on its neck. "And now you're free."

She gave it a soft smack on the back with the flat part of the sword. "Go," she called, and the tarn took a few quick steps and launched itself into the sky. It seemed to Sally that its caws sounded joyful.

She dug through the riders packs, finding some rations and a few more gold coins. Then she trudged back to get her own pack and her trusty sling.

'Well hell,' she thought. 'Guess I may as well stay up and keep moving.'

It was nearly dark when she crested a hill and stopped dead in her tracks. Before her, stretching in both directions as far as she could see, was a vast expanse of trees.

She had reached the Northern Forests.



Panther Tales Ch. 05



Author's note: As always, in any of my stories any character that engages in any kind of sexual activity is over 18 years of age. I'm enjoying writing this sort of anti-Gorean story, and thank everyone for their comments and votes! 

*****

The first week in the forest were the best days Sally had spent on Gor. She found some safe hiding spots, it was pretty easy to find food and water, and there were even a couple small caves she could safely light a small fire and cook the small animals she killed.

Fruits and berries were plentiful and easy to pick, and one kind of tree had slim, strong vines that were ideal for making snares. She had gained back some of the weight she had lost during her escape, and no longer looked hollow-cheeked and emaciated.

She was still far from happy. She was often bored, desperately lonely, and spent most of her time thinking about all the things from Earth she missed. There were so many little things she had taken for granted that she wished she had now.

She missed Chinese takeout. She missed ice cream. God, she missed soft toilet paper. Wiping herself with leaves, and then having to dig a hole and bury her waste every time she took a dump, had gotten old in a hurry.

She missed having a razor. Out of habit, she used her dagger to scrape away some of the hair under her arms, but didn't dare use it on her legs. 

'Thank heavens I'm blond,' she thought, 'or I'd look like a Persian cat!'

She was surprised how much she missed watching TV. Back on Earth, she really hadn't watched that much. She made a point never to just have the TV on as background, the way so many people did. Even so, not having the option made her want to cry.

'Right now I'd blow all the guards back at that damn kennel for an hour of C-SPAN.'

She missed shopping, beer, silly supermarket check-out magazines filled with the latest celebrity gossip, and listening to Max tell her about his day at work-even when she didn't understand half of what he was talking about.

'For you, my love,' she whispered. 'You told me to be strong after you were gone.'

She looked around at the trees in every direction and smiled bitterly. 'I didn't expect to have to put up with THIS shit though!' 

She tried to stay busy, to keep herself from thinking too much. She spent a lot of time practicing with her sling and pole. She was confident that if any imaginary enemies attacked, they'd get their pretend butts kicked.

She also spent a lot of time climbing trees, and learning how to move from place to place without ever touching the ground. It was fun, as long as she didn't think about what would happen if she fell and got hurt.

Small animals were plentiful, but she saw very few birds and nothing large and dangerous-although she sometimes hear noises that could have been something big plowing through the forest nearby. Whenever those sounds reached her, she tried to hide and be very quiet.

She experimented with making simple spears by sharpening branches, but they didn't fly very true. Her sling and stones remained her best option for a long distance weapon, as she had no idea how to make a bow.

There were very few paths, and most of them were old and overgrown. She still avoided them on principle. Even though she was lonely, solitude seemed preferable to meeting any more Goreans. In a week, she hand't seen a single building, old campfire, or any other sign that any people had ever been there.

Which is why it came as such an enormous shock when four armed women suddenly appeared in her small clearing.

Sally had been scraping the edge of her dagger along a flat stone, seeing if she was sharpening it or just making noise, when from all four sides the women materialized. She leaped to her feet, only two feel razor sharp spear points press against her stomach and the small of her back.

The other two stayed back a bit, holding bows already drawn and notched, pointed straight at her. One of them spoke.

"Drop the knife girl," she commanded.

Sally stiffened and snarled, but girl behind her pressed a little harder. She realized how useless her little dagger would be, and with an angry sigh she cast it down.

The woman in front of her lifted her spear until the tip was touching Sally's throat. She was dressed in dark animal skins, a necklace of claws softly clattering around her neck. Much taller than Sally, she looked down at the helpless Earth girl, her expression pitiless.

"Hands behind your back," she rumbled, and emphasized the words by pressing until a tiny trickle of blood rolled down Sally's throat. Sally glared at her, her lips trembling with rage, but reluctantly put her hands behind her, where they were quickly lashed together.

Once her wrists were secured, the woman lowered her spear. "Runaway slaves are not welcome here. Who is your Master, girl?"

Sally's eyes blazed with fury. "I am no one's slave." she snarled.

The women all laughed. The woman behind her used her spear to lift Sally's shirt. Sally yelped and started to jerk away, but the girl in front drove her spear into the ground and grabbed her, one hand tangling in her short hair, the other gripping her throat.

"She's branded, all right," one of them said as the small letter 'K' burned into her left thigh came into view. The woman jerked her closer, staring into her blue eyes.

"You are collared and branded. You are kajira," she said simply, but Sally shook her head as well as she could in the woman's powerful grip.

"Just because some assholes wrapped a piece of steel around my neck and burned me doesn't make me a slave!" she almost screamed.

There was more laughter, and the woman shifted her grip, clutching the back of Sally's slim neck.

"We'll let Shan decide what to do with you," she declared, pushing the smaller girl ahead of her firmly.

"March!"

As soon as they started moving, the two archers slipped deeper into the trees and vanished. Sally couldn't see or hear them, but twice one appeared ahead of them and gave a hand signal, apparently meaning the way was clear and safe. She realized how feeble her stealth skills were compared to these women.

Three times, her captors warned her to be wary of traps and carefully steered her way. Twice they had to lift and pull her over large rock formations. Sally could see how anyone coming this way who didn't know exactly where they were going would get either injured or lost.

At last, they came to an enormous, imposing wall of thorny bushes. The growth was twice as high as the girls heads, and stretched for hundreds of yards in either direction. It seemed like a dead end, but the woman in front of her wrapped her hands around a small tree directly in front of the hedge, and lifted.

It was a fake, concealing a tunnel through the obstacle.

"That's clever," Sally mumbled, and the girl behind her laughed.

"Ally came up with that idea. She's of the Builder caste and very intelligent."

The tunnel stretched some thirty or forty feet. It was only wide enough to proceed single file, and the taller Gorean woman had to crouch slightly to avoid tangling their hair in the thorns.

Actually, to call the protuberances 'thorns' was to belittle them. They were massive, sharp curved hooks, some nearly a foot long, the points sharp as razors. Any animal or person attempting to push their way through this barrier would be torn to pieces.

They emerged from the tunnel in the camp of the Panther girls.

There were smiles and calls of greeting from the others, and they cast curious looks Sally's way. The two archers that had helped capture her were already there, and the four women slapped each other on the back in celebration.

"Rendill has gone to fetch Shan," one of them said.

Sally stood still and quiet, looking straight ahead, keeping a firm leash on her anger as a few of the Panthers came up to her, looking at her short, ragged hair and cut-up gown with expressions of puzzlement.

A voice rang out, thick with merriment. "Denera, what have you dragged home this time?"

The woman with the necklace of claws laughed. She dug her fingers into Sally's short hair and yanked her head up.

"We found this little Urt crawling around in our forest," she answered. She put her other hand on Sally's shoulder and pushed down, trying to force her to her knees, but Sally stiffened her back and fought.

"That is Shan, our Leader," she hissed. "On your knees!"

The woman who approached wore only a fur loin cloth, and a beautiful, ankle length black robe. Her bare breasts were large and firm, and bobbed prettily with every step. Her dark eyes glittered with amusement and cruelty as she regarded the Earth girl.

"A barbarian girl, trying to survive in our forests? How delightful!" she mocked. Sally glared at her, quivering as she struggled to control her rage.

Suddenly the woman's expression grew stern. She drew a dagger from beneath her robe and pressed the point under Sally's chin.

"I am Shan. I am the leader of this Panther clan. Kneel before me, slave girl," she commanded.

Sally's eyes flashed with anger. "I will kneel for no one!"

Shan chuckled, pressing harder with her dagger, drawing blood. "A brave little kajira," she laughed, and that hated word tore away the last of Sally's self-control.

"Cowardly BITCH!" she shouted, surprising the Clan leader enough that she took a short step back. Sally gave free reign to her fury, heedless of the consequences.

"Yeah, you're really tough and scary when someone's hands are tied. I'm really fucking impressed!" she spat.

The woman looked down at Sally and smirked. "Brave little Urt," she muttered.

Goreans are, as a rule, significantly larger than Earthlings. Where an average man on Earth is around 5' 9", most Gorean males stand 6' 6" or more. A typical Gorean woman tops six feet. Sally, at 5'2" was a mere pixie compared to the Panthers surrounding her.

She knew she couldn't match the women's strength, but she also knew from experience that brute strength could be overcome with courage and cunning. There were two dead Masters that would vouch for her ability in a fight.

Shan lifted Sally's chin with a finger and gave her a couple patronizing taps on the cheek. She looked the bound girl up and down, nodding.

"She's not entirely displeasing to look at. She would fetch a decent price."

Sally scoffed at the tall Panther. "The last person that tried to buy me didn't live the night. I am a human being, and human beings are NOT for sale."

"It's a shame you're too dumb to know that," she finished.

The Panther leader started to swing her arm, then broke out laughing.

"Silly Earth girl. Do you even know where you are?"

Sally glared into her eyes, unflinching.

"Hell."

One of the Panthers stepped forward-a slim girl with short brown hair and an odd, trident shaped scar or tattoo below her right eye. She put a hand on Shan's shoulder.

"Leave the girl alone. She may be barbarian, but you can see she's no kajira."

Shan snarled, whirling to face her Panther sister, her body tense. The two women stared at each other for a long moment. Then the Clan leader grinned, giving the other woman a friendly cuff on the shoulder.

"Do you like her then, Ally? Do you think she's cute?" she teased.

The scarred woman frowned.

"I think she deserves better than this. And if she truly killed a Master, maybe she's tough enough to be one of us."

At that, many of the gathering of Panthers stared in astonishment. Shan studied Ally's face for a long moment, then waved a hand in dismissal.

"Fine," she grumbled, "but if you want her so bad, she's your responsibility. If she screws up and gets someone captured or killed, I'll take it out of your hide."

The Clan Leader started to order Denera to untie Sally's hands, but just then there was a little commotion as another Panther pushed forward, snarling 'No No NO!"

"What's your problem, Blainey?" Shan asked.

Blainey put her hands on her hips, scowling with anger. She was a huge Amazon of a woman, with biceps any Earth bodybuilder would have envied.

"You know our rules, Shan. You all know our rules," she said, her voice rising as she addressed the entire Clan. "There's only one way for a girl to join our group."

She looked down at Sally and smirked. "And no soft little barbarian girl could ever survive the test."

Sally looked up fearlessly at the big Panther girl. "Who says I want to join you? You strike me as nothing but a gang of bullies!"

Shan laid a hand on one of Blainey's thick arms, to prevent her from attacking the Earth girl. Meanwhile, other voices chimed in, most agreeing with Blainey.

"You're right," the Leader said finally. "We will do this the correct way."

She turned to Sally. "To join our Clan, you have to replace one of the existing members-by defeating her in combat."

"What sort of combat?"

"You will each be armed with a dagger. You fight to the death. We will let you choose your opponent."

Sally's head drooped, and her eyes closed in a slow, sad blink. She let out a long sigh.

"Is everyone on this fucking planet nothing but an animal?" she demanded, raising her eyes and looking around at the gathered women. When none replied, she pursed her lips and took another deep breath.

"Fine. If killing and death are so important to you, so be it."

There were smiles and cheers at her pronouncement, and the cords were sliced from her wrists. She rubbed them absently, her eyes turning to look at the Panther's camp fire. An idea popped into her head.

"I will ask one favor first. There is something I must do."

Shan grinned at her. "A last request? That seems like the least we can do."

She turned to Ally. "Keep an eye on her. One hour. If she tries to run, kill her."

The women scattered through the camp, chattering with excitement. Sally walked to the fire and started looking around, Ally close behind. After a bit, the Earth girl picked up a loose branch, about two feet long and thick as a baseball bat. She knelt next to a flat rock and began grinding and slamming one end against the hard stone.

Sally looked up as she flattened one end of the wood. "Thanks for having my back."

"You seem like a fighter," the Panther girl replied.

Sally sighed again. "Only when I have to be."

Finished with her branch, she stuck the flat end into the fire, and found another piece of wood, this one about the thickness of her thumb. Ally watched silently.

A few of the other Panthers stood nearby, close enough to observe Sally's preparations. When she sat down next to the fire, one could contain her curiousity no longer.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Sally lifted her hips and tugged her shirt up to her waist. She noticed how Ally's eyes kept dropping to sneak furtive peeks at her exposed lap.

Sally pointed to the kajira brand on her left thigh.

"If I must die today-well, we all have to die sometime. But I will not die with this ugly thing marring my body." 

With that, she stuck the smaller branch in her mouth, holding it between her teeth. She pulled the bigger log from the fire, its end nearly white hot, and rolled towards her right hip.

Holding the wood with both hands, she slowly and deliberately pressed the hot end against her brand.

She let out a howl of agony, drowning out the gasps of the women watching her. Her teeth dug into the branch in her mouth, and her slim body quivered, but she forced herself to hold the heat against her skin as she silently counted to five, obliterating the hated slave mark.

The aroma of burning flesh filled the air by the time she yanked the log away from her leg and cast it into the fire. She forced herself to get to her feet, and struggled to pull the slim branch from her mouth. She had bitten down so hard her teeth were stuck in the wood.

Finally, it fell to the ground, and she turned and staggered a few steps, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks.

She could hear the Panthers muttering, shocked by what they had seen. One of them scurried away, almost running to tell Shan what had just happened.

Sally held her shirt tightly in her fists and limped slowly, not wanting her leg to stiffen up. Every few steps she let out an inhuman growl of pain. Her leg throbbed and kept trying to buckle. Only her will kept her upright.

Ally was suddenly at her side, a strip of cloth in her hands. "Here, let me wrap that."

Sally stopped, her legs trembling, and Ally went to one knee, winding the bandage around her thigh.

"By the Priest-Kings girl, that was dumb. How are you gonna fight now? You can barely walk!"

She tied the cloth tight, all the while trying and failing not to stare at the small girl's blond pussy, inches from her eyes.

"Better?" she asked, and Sally nodded.

"Thank you again. I need to keep moving or I won't be able to move at all."

"You think it matters? How can you fight in this condition?"

Sally's mouth twisted into a pained smile, and her electric-blue eyes blazed. 

"I have a plan."

Shan listened to the girl tell her how Sally had deliberately burned herself to destory her brand. The Panther leader raised an eyebrow.

"It doesn't matter. Crazy dies as easy as sane."

Sally kept walking, stopping occasionally to bend her knee or crouch and flex her leg. Every step was painful, but neccesary. Ally stayed beside her, sometimes reaching out an arm when it looked like she was about to fall. 

The Panther named Rendill approached them. "It's time," she said quietly, and Sally nodded. Her face was grim as she walked slowly to where the Clan had gathered in a circle, all twelve girls watching her closely. Sally fought not to limp or grimace, not wanting to show them any weakness.

The girls moved to give her a spot, and Ally gently squeezed her shoulder.

"Are you ready to fight?" Shan asked her, and Sally laughed bitterly.

"Where's my dagger?"

Shan nodded to the girl to her left, and the girl tossed Sally's pack across the circle. Sally crouched and brought out her knife. It was a good weapon, she knew, well crafted and balanced. She hoped that would be enough.

"Who will you challenge?" Shan demanded, and immediately, about half the women in the circle drew their own daggers.

"Pick me!" one would call, then another would shout, "No, pick me!" They were laughing and amused, eager to have their sport, certain that the tiny girl would present no challenge.

Sally took a step forward, her head slowly turning, looking at each Panther in turn. Most of them smirked and shook their dagger at her when their eyes met. At last, she lifted her own dagger and pointed it at the hulking Blainey.

"You," she said, and the camp shook with incredulous laughter. Blainey's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"You have more courage than brains, little barbarian," she said as a lazy, arrogant smile floated across her face.

Sally looked back at Shan. "How do we start?" she asked, and was proud that her voice didn't shake. In reality, she was terrified.

Shan looked as if she could barely contain her laughter.

"Blainey, are you ready?" she asked, and the huge Panther answered "Yes."

"Earth girl, are you ready?"

"I was born ready!"

Shan chuckled and shook her head in amusement.

"Then it begins-NOW!"

Sally kept her eyes on her opponent as she tucked her left arm behind her back. She crossed her right arm, with the dagger, over her stomach until it touched her right hip. Blainey held her own dagger low and approached slowly, her weight up on the balls of her feet. The Panther expected the Earth girl to try to flee.

Sally clenched her teeth and braced her injured left leg firmly against the ground. 'Please let this work," she prayed silently, focusing her gaze on the Panther's navel.

She bit back a groan of pain as she took a big step forward. Her right arm flashed into motion. In an instant, she was posed on her left knee, her hand pointed straight at Blainey's torso.




Panther Tales Ch. 05



The towering girl grunted in pain and surprise, staggering back a couple steps. Her eyes were huge, round 'O's as she slowly looked down...

to see the hilt of Sally's dagger protruding from her belly.

Blainey dropped her dagger, and her hands moved to her midsection as she crumpled to her knees. She looked up and tried to talk, but her mouth began to fill with blood and all she could do was make tiny, whimpering noises. For a moment, she looked like a scared little girl.

The shocked silence was deafening as Sally hobbled to her fallen foe. She bent and picked up Blainey's dagger as the tall girl wobbled on her knees.

"I didn't want to do this," she said, softly and sadly. Then she grabbed a handful of Blainey's long hair and yanked her head back.

With a moan of anguish, she thrust the point of Blainey's own knife into the side of her neck and JERKED it forward, ripping out the entire front of her throat. There were gasps from the assembled girls. For a long, breathless moment the mortally wounded Panther didn't move as blood poured down her front.

Then her eyes rolled up in her head, and her body collapsed.

The muffled 'thud' of Blainey's corpse hitting the ground broke the spell of astonishment. Chaos and pandemonium broke out. Some of the Panther's ran to their fallen sister, some surrounded Shan, and a few began calling out threats and demanding retribution.

That prompted others to defend Sally's actions, and in moments small groups of the women were shoving, punching, and pulling each other's hair.

Hair-pulling may sound pretty lame; kind of like 'oh look at the cute girls catfighting,' but in reality, just like soldiers on Earth, Gorean warriors, irregardless of gender, do whatever they need to gain an advantage over a foe.

True fighters aren't interested in 'fighting fair' or looking stylish. A real warrior knows there are only two kinds of fights-the kind you win and the kind you lose. Anything else is irrelevant.

Sally ignored the commotion, the cries of pain, the angry shouts, the sad lamentations, as she hobbled away from the body. She nearly made it back to the fire before it all overwhelmed her. She sat down heavily, put her face in her hands, and sobbed.

xxxxx

It was full dark when Rendill put a hand on Sally's shoulder, not unkindly. After order had been restored in the camp, Ally had come over and wrapped her arms around the crying Earth girl, offering her some comfort. They sat like that for hours, not speaking, barely moving.

"Shan wants to talk to you," Rendill said quietly. Sally nodded and struggled to her feet, her injured leg barely able to support her weight. Ally followed as the Panther led them to where the Clan leader was sitting on a flat stump. Another Panther stood directly behind her, stone faced and holding one of the tall spears like a bodyguard.

"Sit," Shan said, pointing to an adjacent stump, and Sally lowered herself gingerly, her bad leg stuck straight out in front of her. Shan regarded her for several minutes, then sighed.

"What are we going to do with you, Earth girl?"

The corner of Sally's mouth turned up as she realized-today was a new beginning for her. It was time to fully leave her old life behind. She smiled a genuine smile as she recalled her childhood nickname.

"The first thing you can do is call me Snow."



Panther Tales Ch. 06



They removed Blainey's body from the camp as dawn was breaking. They wrapped her in an old fur, and two of the girls carried her for several hours, until their arms were aching. Then they left her on the ground. 

Panthers aren't sentimental about dead bodies. Blainey would return to the forest.

Back at the camp, they divided up the dead girl's few possessions. As her conqueror, Snow got first choice, but she wisely refused to be greedy. She only took a blanket, and a single gold bracelet. 

Well, for Blainey it had been a bracelet. The much smaller Earth girl had to wear it around her ankle.

"To remember her," Snow said as she clicked the band of gold into place, and there were nods of approval.

She rose painfully to her feet. They had put some healing salve around the burn on her thigh, but it was still stiff and aching after a night's sleep. 

"What's this?" she asked the group, bending to pick up a long, black object.

"That's Blainey's war hammer," one of the Panthers replied.

Snow gave it an experimental spin. It was different from the fighting pole she had lost when she was brought to the Panther camp. One end was much thicker than the other, and had rows of small, sharp spikes jutting out. The club was almost as long as Snow was tall, but surprisingly light.

"I think I could make use of this," she said simply. Then she limped away, letting the rest of the Clan argue over who wanted and deserved the rest of Blainey's weapons, clothing and baubles.

Ally joined her, a bowl in her hands. 

"Eat," she said, and Snow chuckled softly.

"Yes Mother," she smiled, and began spooning the porridge into her mouth with her fingers. Usually this kind of food was pretty tasteless, but after a couple bites, she looked at Ally and grimaced.

The Panther made a face. "Yeah, I know it's a little bitter. There's a root ground up into it. It will help with the pain, but it doesn't taste very good."

Snow sighed, but finished her meal. She took a few big gulps of water, then Ally insisted she lay down.

"We'll put you to work tomorrow, if you're up to it," she said when Snow tried to protest. "For now, you need to rest and let that leg heal. You're worse than useless to us if you're crippled."

Snow started to say something more, but was interrupted by a gigantic yawn. Ally smiled gently and stroked her forehead.

"Anyway, that root will make you sleepy. Rest, little barbarian."

Ally was right. Snow spent the day either sleeping or in a drugged haze. Whenever she did wake up, Ally would flex and bend her leg, gently keeping it from stiffening. In the afternoon, she had another bowl of the bitter porridge, and slept some more.

By the time she was fully conscious again, it was near dusk. She yawned and stretched, then gently pressed her hand against the bandage wrapped around her thigh.

"How's it feel?" Ally asked.

"A little stiff, but not too bad."

"I changed the wrap while you were asleep. It seems to be healing ok."

"Let's find out," Snow said, and struggled to her feet. Her leg was sore, certainly, and she limped noticeably until the muscles loosened up, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as she'd feared.

While the two walked around the camp, most of the other girls gathered in a semi-circle around Shan and her bodyguard. They were serving the evening meal, and the smell of cooking meat made Snow's mouth water.

Ally noticed the longing in the Earth girl's eyes and laughed softly. "Come on," she said, taking Snow by the arm. "Let's eat."

Shan looked up as they joined the group, and waved them over. "Come sit by me, Earth girl," she said with a little smile. "We would learn more about you."

A couple of the girls passed out bowls of a kind of stew, along with hunks of coarse bread and crude spoons carved from animal bones. The stew was thick with meat and vegetables, and Snow ate with gusto.

There was quiet conversation as they ate, and many glances her way. The general attitude of the rest of the Panther clan towards her seemed to be skeptical, but not overly hostile. The girl Snow had killed the day before hadn't been very popular--Bailey had been loud, cruel, and often a bully. None of the other girls had considered her a close friend, but she had been a valuable asset in a fight.

Few thought the clan was better off with a tiny barbarian girl taking her place. 

Goreans invariably look down on Earth natives. They consider them soft, spoiled and mostly good only as slaves. Snow may have gotten lucky in one fight, but it remained to be seen if she could handle the hardship and deprivations of daily life in the forest.

As the meal continued, Shan began asking Snow questions, encouraging her to talk, drawing out her story. The other Panthers quieted and listened as she told them about her childhood on Earth, her marriage to Maxwell, and how she was brought to Gor.

There was a great deal of speculation about exactly what city her kennel had been in, and she answered a lot of questions and wracked her brain, trying to remember every detail. Eventually they narrowed it down to a three likely cities.

There were fierce nods and grim smiles as she told of her escape from the first male that had tried to hold her prisoner outside the City walls, but she got a lot of uncertain looks when she told the story of killing the Tarn rider.

"Wait a minute," one of the girls interrupted. She was a slim girl with black hair and olive skin who called herself Darkness. "You expect us to believe you brought down a tarn by throwing rocks at it?"

There were a few chuckles, but Snow held the other Panther's gaze.

"No, I didn't bring it down. At worst I just stung it. And I didn't throw rocks--I used a sling."

That brought forth a torrent of questions, and Snow did her best to explain how a sling worked. As she spoke, Shan called a girl over and whispered in her ear, and the girl slipped out of the camp.

Snow looked up at the Clan leader, her expression curious.

"Tomorrow, you'll have to demonstrate this sling you're talking about. As for the other, I've sent Rendill to the nearest village to find out if a Tarnsman was recently killed by a runaway slave."

Shan's expression was serious as she continued. 

"No offense, but I need to confirm that story before I believe it."

Snow considered this for a moment, then nodded.

"So, Earth girl. We've heard your story. The next question is, what do YOU want?"

Snow looked around at the gathered Panthers, then turned back to the leader.

"If you'll have me, I'd just as soon stay here. It's safer than being alone, and I'll do my best to be useful."

She frowned and tapped the ring of steel around her throat.

"And I really want to get this fucking thing off."

That got some laughs, and Shan gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. "I don't blame you for that! In a few days we'll be moving to a different camp. There are villages along the way that aren't too hostile to our Clan. We should be able to find a blacksmith who will cut that off for a small price."

Snow suddenly remembered her pack. "Speaking of price, I have some coins."

They had given her back her pack, and she had been surprised to find nothing was missing. She had no real idea how much money she had, but when she retrieved her pack and showed it to Shan, the Panther leader whistled.

"One of those coins will be more than enough. Even a blacksmith that despises Panthers would do it for gold. Of course, he'd probably try to betray you once the money was in his hand."

"Can we really trust anyone to help us?" Snow asked.

Ally spoke up. "Most of the villages along the forest edge are used to seeing Panthers. We trade with them fairly, and help them out when times are tough. Their not exactly friends, but gold and a couple of armed escorts should be enough to keep you safe."

Snow laughed sadly. "Money and muscle," she mused. "Just like Earth."

Shan nodded. "Indeed," she said quietly. Then she rose and stretched, yawning.

"It's gotten very late and I'm going to sleep. Those of you who have second patrol should head out now."

With that, the group dispersed. Some left the camp to relieve the girls patrolling the forest, watching for danger. Others wrapped up in furs and got comfortable, Snow among them. Even though she had slept most of the day, she was still tired, and dozed off almost as soon as she lay her head on her pack.

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The camp woke at first light. There were groans and grumbles as the Panthers began their day in the gloom of very early morning. It seemed to Snow that each girl had a morning task. No one had given her any directions, so she wandered around the camp, offering to help wherever she found girls working.

She helped prepare and serve breakfast--thick porridge mixed with chopped-up chunks of melon, and more bread--and after joined the girls collecting and washing bowls and spoons. She went with Ally to a small pond, the two of them sharing the weight of a bucket that must have held ten gallons of water for the girls to use for drinking and washing.

Snow remembered something a teacher had said to her years ago--"If you want people to like you, shut up and get to work." She helped a scowling, intense girl stretch out and scrape a couple of animal skins, preparing them to be made into clothes, then spent some time helping another girl trim feathers to use on arrows. Each time, she watched carefully, only asked a question when she needed to, and tried very hard to do the job well.

She lifted her head when she heard someone call her name. It was Darkness, a longbow in her hands and a smile on her face.

"Come to the targets Snow. I'm eager to see that sling of yours in action."

Several of the girls were practicing with their bows and arrows, firing at human size outlines drawn onto tree trunks. Snow grabbed her sling and followed the tall girl, and the others stepped back so she could take a few shots.

She was a little nervous as she loaded a stone in her sling. It seemed like this was an important test, and a good chance to impress the veteran Panthers.

She took a deep breath and tried to block out everything, focusing her attention on the target as she spun her arm. To her relief, the stone flew true, hitting the tree with an audible thump almost directly in the center of what would have been the target's chest.

Snow reached down and picked up two more rocks to show how quickly the sling could fling multiple missiles. Her second shot was even better, smacking into the outline's head, and even though the third barely grazed the tree, she felt pretty good about her efforts as she stepped back.

Most of the Panthers, including Shan, looked impressed, but one of the girls scoffed. It was Denera, who had been the leader of the group that had captured her in the first place.

"It's not much of a weapon, especially compared to a bow."

Snow looked at her and nodded, picking her words carefully. "You're right. It's not as deadly or as powerfull as a bow and arrow. But--it's very simple to make, easier to use and much lighter and easier to carry."

She laughed softly. "Besides, I'm worthless with a bow."

A lot of the girls laughed at that, and even Denera smiled. Snow then spent some time instructing the Panthers in the basics of using a sling. In return, they got her to take a few shots with a bow, but she hadn't been kidding. She could barely use the huge Panther bows, and her few shots didn't even make it to the target.

"It's because our bows are too big for you," Shan told her. "We'll make you one that's a better fit."

There was a daily routine in the camp--perfecting the skills they needed to survive and thrive in the forest. Along with target practice, the girls climbed up into the trees and worked on moving from place to place travelling through the upper branches. There were also games of hide-and-seek that helped the girls learn how to move silently through the forest, and to be aware of their surroundings.

Snow still couldn't move any faster than a walk, so she skipped most of those activities. She did wrap her arms around a low branch and do three pull-ups, trying to build up the strength in her thin arms.

They ate some dried meat that reminded Snow of jerky, and Shan made sure everyone had some melon. The girls broke up into pairs to spar and wrestle, and the clan leader led Darkness over to where Snow was standing, gently stretching her injured leg.

"Darkness here is very good with a sword, " Shan told her. "Let's see what you can do with your new weapon."

Snow held her war hammer, and Darkness pointed with her sword.

"Don't worry about dodging or attacking today," the black haired Panther told her. "Just work on blocking, and getting used to the weight and feel of that club."

Snow nodded, then spent the next hour trying to parry the taller girl's thrusts and swings. The hammer wasn't as easy to use as her old pole, and if they had been fighting for real she would have been killed many times over. But as they worked, she learned how to use the hammer--how to adjust her grip and let the weight of the larger end do the work for her.

Finally, when both girls were panting and soaked with sweat, Darkness stepeed back and nodded her approval.

"We're getting somewhere," she said. "You have good instincts. With some experience, you'll be a formidable opponent."

"Thank you for helping me," Snow told her, and Darkness smiled, her teeth very white against her olive skin.

"Glad to do it. I'll rig you up a harness so you can carry that on your back. Much easier to move fast and quiet when your hands are free."

The next day brought more positives. Rendill returned to the camp in the afternoon and reported that there was a story going around the villages at the forest edge of a Tarn rider who had been found with his head smashed in.

"They say it was an vicious barbarian girl, with blond hair like a boy and insane eyes."

There was cheering, and Snow was smacked on the back hard enough to make her stagger. She let fly with a playful growl, to general laughter. For the first time, the skeptical look in most of the girl's eyes was replaced by a grudging respect.

The thing that most worked in her favor was that she was willing to work her ass off. After only a couple days, the other Panthers learned that if they needed help, all they had to do was ask Snow. She learned quickly, never complained, and always tossed out a compliment or two.

Her leg healed nicely. The scar was ugly, but there was only pain if she really pushed herself. Her daily sparring sessions with Darkess and the other girls became much more interesting now that she could move, dodge and dance.

She asked questions and listened, and learned some of the girl's stories. Ally had been born into the Builder caste. Her father had been a metallurgist and a weapons maker, and unlike most Goreans, the family had had some contact with people from Earth. He learned new ideas, and it gave him and edge and helped him be very successful.

His competitors had been jealous and superstitiously believed he was using forbidden technology to make his exellent weapons. They had gone to the City authorities with their accusations, and her father had vanished.

Young, terrified, and alone, Ally had gone to the Thieve's Guild and begged for help. She spent several years, first as an apprentice and then on her own. It was there she had been given the odd, trident-shaped brand below her right eye. She was clever and brave and did very well. Sadly for her, even thieves have politics, and in a power struggle she backed the wrong candidate for Leader.

The Guild's new head began a purge, and Ally fled for the forests before they could come for her. Her knowledge of weapons and the skills she had learned as a Thief made her a valuable member of any Clan.

Darkness had been a leather worker. Her Free Companion had tried to betray her and sell her into slavery. Shan, the Clan Leader, was the daughter of a Warrior. A few of the girls were second or even third generation Panthers. All they really had in common was a burning desire to live free in a society that that made the most repressive cultures on Earth seem brazenly liberal.

The days flowed past. Snow did chores, cooked, fetched water, practiced with her club and her new bow and arrows, climbed trees, and when her leg healed went on patrol with other Panthers to practice her woodcraft. She wasn't exactly happy, but life was tolerable.

She spent a lot of time in the evenings with Ally, learning as much as she could about Gorean life and customs. At first, her questions focused on ways to get back to Earth, but it soon became apparent that was impossible. No one travelled between the planets except slavers and maybe the Priest-Kings. The slavers would never return her home--they'd either put her back in a kennel for training, or kill her outright for her 'crimes.' And none of the Clan had any idea how to contact the Priest-Kings.

So for now she was stuck. Ally was sympathetic, answering her questions and listening when she growled and snarled about how unfair it all was.

"I feel like I'm being punished for crimes I didn't commit," Snow often complained.

One night, they were talking about the lives of women on Gor. Gorean males and philosophers often claim women are important, treasured and empowered on Gor, but in reality even a Free Woman is bound by a seemingly endless list of rules and customs, forced to act and dress even more modestly than women in the most hardcore fundamentalist sects on Earth, and always aware of the threat of a collar.

"Still," Ally said with a shy smile, "there are things here more difficult than following the Free Woman's code of behavior; more difficult than being kajira; even more difficult than being an outlaw in the woods."

Snow looked at her. "Such as?"

Ally looked around furtively. They were alone in their corner of the camp, shrouded in darkness. Even so, she leaned in close to whisper.

"Such as--well the Gorean language doesn't even have a word for it. It's not only unacceptable, it's not even recognized."

"What?" Snow asked a bit impatiently.

"Being a girl who likes girls better than men," Ally finally whispered, and surprised the Earth girl with a soft, sweet kiss, the kind lovers share.

"Ummm, Ally I don't...I'm not..." Snow stammered when it ended. The Panther touched a finger to her just-kissed lips.

"Think about it my angel. I'm going to sleep."

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Ally's kiss woke so many dormant feelings in Snow. She really hadn't been interested in, or even thought about, sex since Max had died, and her experiences in the kennels had left her so turned off there had been times she figured she could never be aroused again.

Plus, she'd never been interested in women. Her only brushes with lesbianism were the times she let her old boss give her a quick 'accidental' grope. But Ally was different. She really did like the Gorean girl, and there was no denying her beauty.

She lay awake in her furs a long time, her mind spinning helplessly. Finally, she quit thinking and let her body decide. In the coal blackness of the Forest night, she crept silently to where Ally slept and slipped into her furs.

The Panther girl stretched langurously, waking to find the girl she wanted gently pressed against her. She smiled and kissed Snow's head tenderly.

"I'm so glad you came to me," Ally whispered, and took the smaller girl into her arms.

"Do we need to sneak away? Will you get in trouble?"

Ally laughed silently. "This is one of the few places on Gor where no one cares. Besides, I guarantee you were not the only ones sharing furs tonight."




Panther Tales Ch. 06



Snow started to say more, but Ally silenced her with a kiss. "Hush now, Earth girl," she purred. "I know you've had a terrible time. Let me remind you what pure pleasure feels like."

Ally's lips roamed on Snow's neck and ears, sometimes soft as a feather, sometimes nibbling and sucking, and her hands stroked the blond girls skin with amazing gentleness. She took her time, not wanting to scare the girl, her mind rejoicing that this girl she wanted so bad was with her.

She took her time, letting the passion build slowly. By the time she pulled Snow's tunic over her head, the Earth girl was biting back moans of bliss. 

"Ohhh you are so beautiful," Ally whispered, her voice husky with passion. She kissed her way down Snow's delicate throat as her hands cupped her lover's small breasts, feeling the girl quiver beneath her. Ally was aflame with desire as she covered Snow's boobs with kisses, forcing herself to keep up the slow pace.

At last, Snow arched her back, aching and needy, and Ally wrapped her lips around a stiff nipple. She licked and nibbled and sucked, coaxing gasps from the girl, and her hands slid down to carress Snow's hips as she kissed through her cleavage to pleasure the other nipple.

Snow was going out of her mind. She had never felt such wonderful need before. She ran her fingers through the other girls short brown hair, squirming and moaning with delight. 

Ally's hands moved under Snow, cupping and gripping the girl's slim bottom as she wiggled lower. Her lips carressed Snow's stomach, her tongue tip lightly licking. Ally's body pushed Snow's legs wider apart.

"Do you want me to stop?" she whispered.

Snow looked down at the brunette girl, her electric blue eyes blazing with heat. "Oh god no," she moaned, and Ally smiled.

It was past time to take it slow. A few more kisses and Ally's face was between Snow's spread legs. She flickered her tongue out, finding the gasping girl's clit and licking until it swelled and throbbed.

Snow groaned at the exquisite feelings and wiggled her hips, her soaked pussy trying to capture the teasing tongue. Ally's tongue danced and fluttered over her button, driving her wild. Finally the blond girl could take no more. She grabbed Ally's hair with both hands, wimpering 'please please please' as she pulled her lover's mouth to her wet heat.

Ally let out a soft moan of her own and drove her tongue deep into Snow's soft warm pussy, savoring the sweet taste of her cream. She lifted the smaller girl by the ass and thrust her tongue in and out as Snow bucked her hips, humping eagerly.

"Cum for me sweet girl," Ally purred between licks, and Snow threw her head from side to side, her fiery pussy squeezing around Ally's tongue, pulling it in ever deeper. Her heels thumped Ally's back as her body tensed in orgasm.

"Oooohhhhh" she moaned as her passion peaked, her flowing nectar filling Ally's mouth. The Panther girl glued her mouth to the cumming pussy and sucked hard, feasting on her lover's nectar.

Snow panted and bucked as waves of pure pleasure flowed through her body. The climax seemed to go on forever. Finally, her arms and legs relaxed and she lay limp as Ally lovingly kissed her between the legs, over and over. 

"That was amazing," Snow managed to gasp, her chest heaving. Ally looked up and grinned, her lovely face smeared with the evidence of Snow's orgasm.

"If you thought the first one was good," she whispered, her voice husky with arousal, "the second one will be spectacular!"

She slid her hands up Snow's soft thighs and gently spread her quivering hole open, ignoring the girl's soft protests. Ally circled her tongue around her lovers still swollen pearl, making her overstimulated body buck, then drove her tongue in to the hilt.

The exquisite pleasure was almost too much to take. Snow stuffed her fist in her mouth to muffle her moans as Ally expertly drove her towards the peak again, her tongue plunging in and wiggling, pausing at times to tease the girls stiff clit.

Snow wimpered and thrashed, babbling nonsense that was half pleas to stop and half begging for more. She was helpless before the beautiful assault, and clamped her legs around Ally's head, her hips jerking wildly as another orgasm tore through her. Ally kept darting her tongue in and out all the way through the incredible explosion.

She could barely move. She lay on her back, sated, panting, a blissful smile plastered across her face. She felt the Panther girl moving, and then Ally was kissing her tenderly, whispering how beautiful she was.

"I..." Snow began, but Ally silenced her with a soft kiss.

"Go to sleep, my adorable angel from Earth," she said, wrapping Snow in her arms.



Panther Tales Ch. 07



Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter! Between 60 hour weeks at work and the holidays, it's been hard to find any time to work on it. As always, comments and ideas are appreciated! 

*

The next couple days were a blur of activity as the clan prepared to move to a new camp. "We can't stay in the same spot too long," Shan explained. "Too easy to be found."

It seemed to Snow that she had passed some kind of test by sharing Ally's furs. As she helped clean, repair, and pack what the clan would be taking with them, there were more smiles, more winks, and more friendliness in general from the other Panthers. There was, however, also a warning.

Shan pulled her aside the next afternoon. "Don't start thinking you're going to be part of some couple," she said gently. "We can't allow that. It always leads to jealousy and problems. If you want to play with Ally, or any of the other girls, that's fine. Just remember--Panthers don't get to fall in love."

It made sense to Snow, and it wasn't a hardship. She liked Ally, the first member of the group to show her any kindness, but it wasn't like she daydreamed of a lifetime together. 

Her daydreams were confined to Earth luxuries like indoor plumbing and DVD players. Anyhow, Ally seemed to be uninterested in a repeat. She was friendly and affectionate, but didn't offer to bring Snow to her furs again, and the Earth girl wasn't brave or brazen enough to initiate anything. It felt like Ally was just giving her time and not pressuring her, and that was more than fine with Snow.

It would be a three day journey to the new camp. They would travel in three groups. Shan, her hulking, scowling bodyguard (Snow had yet to see the muscular Panther say a word to anyone or change expression, and had no idea what her name was), and Denera would go first to scout the trail. 

A second group of five would follow with a cart that carried most of their equipment and possessions--two girls to pull the cart and three to keep watch.

Snow would follow a couple hours later with Darkness and Ally. They were going to take a detour to one of the villages at the edge of the forest. The Panthers had had some dealings with the village in the past, and there was a blacksmith there they hoped would be able and willing to cut off her hated steel collar. 

The rear guard would be a single girl-- Markeela, a quiet, intense girl with a permanent frown who was so uncomfortable in groups she spent most of her time hunting and patrolling alone anyway.

The night before they planned to leave, Snow was just dozing off when someone joined her. It was Rendill, one of the Panthers that had brought her to the camp originally. In the 

time since Snow had become a member of the clan, they had become friendly. Rendill was smart and funny and went out of her way to include Snow in conversations, and explain some of the things the Earth girl didn't understand.

Snow expressed her surprise to see the girl in her furs, but Rendill's giggles were contagious. "Do you have any idea how much of a hassle you've been?" she said laughing softly. 

"It used to be we just hooked the cart to Blainey's big ass and let her pull it. Now that she's gone, it's gonna take two of us and I'M one of the ones stuck with the job!"

Snow's eyes went wide, and she started to apologize, but Rendill just smiled and kissed her sweetly. "I know you didn't make more work for me on purpose...but I still think you owe me," she said with a grin, and gently pushed Snow's head under the furs.

It was Snow's first time attempting to give another girl oral pleasure, and she felt both awkward and nervous, but judging from the Panther's moans, and the amount of juice on her face when she was finished, she acquitted herself well.

The two girls cuddled together afterwards, kissing and nuzzling until they fell asleep. The last thing Snow heard was the other girl whispering "Okay, now we're even.

The small vanguard had left by the time Snow and the other Panthers awoke at dawn and began piling the last few things into the small cart. The camp seemed eerily silent when that group left, leaving only Ally, Darkness and Snow still to go. They spent their waiting time going over plans and routes, making sure the Earth girl knew what was expected of her--basically it amounted to 'do what we tell you and stay out of the way if there's trouble.'

They kept her in the middle as they walked, pointing out anything of interest or importance. A few times, there were subtle signs along the trail--branches or stones arranged in a certain way to indicate 'all clear.' Ally especially took the time to tell Snow the names and uses of various trees and plants they saw.

Mostly it was just a long day of walking, but they made good progress. "We're right where we're supposed to be," Darkness announced as they slipped away from the small trail to make camp for the night. "We'll be to the village before lunch time, and maybe catch up with the wagon before the reach the next camp. We'll see how long we spend at the blacksmith's."

Too tired to do anything else, they gnawed on dry biscuits and jerky before the Panthers wrapped up in furs and slept. Snow was given the first watch, and she sat under the stars and Gor's three moons, fighting to stay awake and alert until she heard Darkness groan and struggle to her feet. 

Yawning, the tall Panther gave Snow a friendly smack on the shoulder. "Get some sleep," she said simply, and Snow didn't have to be asked twice. She curled up in her fur blanket and slept like a rock.

The trio was up and moving at first light, still travelling east-southeast, and reached the edge of the forest mid-morning. They skirted the edge for only ten minutes or so before Darkness, in the lead, spotted the buildings of the village they were seeking.

"Excellent navigation. Well done," Ally praised her, and the tall Panther gave her a rare smile.

They carefully hid most of their belongings. Ally and Darkness kept their bows and quivers, and Snow used her sling to secure a large fighting dagger to her right thigh. As soon 

as they emerged from the tree line, they could hear high-pitched squeals of excitement and alarm. The quarter mile or so of space between the village and the forest was uncultivated grass, about knee-high on the Gorean women. A few young girls had been playing in the open field, and now they went racing and hollering towards the village.

Snow looked to her companions, but Ally just shrugged and patted her on the shoulder. "We're not trying for stealth anyway," she said. "The village is less likely to be alarmed if we walk in the open."

The blacksmith's was on the east edge of the village, a low, wide building closed on three sides. It reminded Snow of a garage. As they walked, a few village women, mostly old ladies or nursing mothers, came out to watch. To Snow they seemed wary but not hostile. The Panthers always raised an arm in greeting as they passed.

They had a few children following them, kids aged 5 or 6, when they got to the blacksmiths. Ally and Snow entered, and Darkness stayed outside, smiling at the youngsters who chattered excitedly.

"Tal Grigor," Ally called, and the blacksmith raised his head up from his workbench. He had long, light brown hair and a full shaggy beard.

"The Panthers!" he cried as he rose. "Tal Ally! We have not been graced by your presence for many months!"

Snow's eyes widened as the blacksmith approached. He was, even by Gorean standards, a massive man, nearly seven feet tall and thickly muscled. He wore breeches and a leather apron over a bare chest, and his arms seemed as thick as her torso. His grin widened as he looked down at the Earth girl.

"I see you've brought a Panther cub with you," he said, and laughed at his own joke. Snow tensed for a moment and clenched her fists, but Ally just smiled.

"This is our newest sister, Snow. Snow, meet Grigor the blacksmith."

"Tal Huntress," the Gorean said. 

"Tal, my Lord Blacksmith," Snow replied, and now it was Grigor's eyes that widened.

"A barbarian girl?" he asked, and both Ally and Snow nodded.

Grigor shook his head. "What is this world coming to?" he muttered, but his eyes glittered with amusement.

"Don't be fooled Grigor," Ally said. "This little barbarian took Hailey's place."

Grigor cocked his head and stroked his chin, looking at Snow appraisingly. She tried to keep her expression neutral. Yes, he had kind of insulted her, but he also struck her as the kind of man who didn't take anything very seriously. After a long minute, the blacksmith grinned.

"Well then. It seems the little cub has some claws. Be welcome here, Snow the Panther."

"I thank you."

He took a step back and lifted his huge hands. "So what can a humble blacksmith do for you today?"

Ally looked to Snow, who took turned her chin and tapped the collar still encircling her throat.

"I've come to ask you to remove this damned thing."

Grigor threw his head back and laughed. "A barbarian and a runaway? Amazing!"

This time Snow couldn't help herself. A soft growl rose from her throat, and her eyes darkened with anger. The blacksmith just laughed again.

"I don't mean to offend, little cub. But you do realize how much trouble a man can get into helping a runaway slave."

"Is the risk worth a gold tarn?"

The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. "How did a runaway barbarian get a gold coin?"

"The man who had it didn't need it any more," she answered with a smirk.

Grigor chuckled. "The little cub DOES have some claws!"

Snow reached into the tiny pocket sewn inside her tunic and pulled out the gold piece. She showed it to the blacksmith, then handed it to Ally, who took her bow off her shoulder. "Come here little Huntress. Let me see what needs to be done."

Snow took a couple cautious steps as Ally pulled an arrow from her quiver. The blacksmith let out a soft snort of laughter.

"Do you trust me so little?"

Ally shrugged. "You know what they call a Panther who trusts a male."

"Ha! Fair enough!"

He put a thick finger on Snow's chin and turned her head back and forth, then touched the collar, trying to push a fingertip underneath it. The man's fingers may have been as thick as Snow's ankles, but his touch was surprisingly delicate.

"Ok, we can do this fairly easily."

He went to his tools and selected a small hammer, a kind of short spike, and what looked like bolt cutters.

"First, I need to bend it enough to get the cutter under it. Put your head here please," he said, tapping his fingers on a low table.

Snow frowned, but bent over and put her cheek on the table. The blacksmith adjusted her so just her forhead rested on the wood.

"This won't hurt, but it's very important that you don't move. Can you do that for me?"

Snow assured him she would stay still, and he put the spike against the steel ring on the side of her neck at a 45 degree angle. The hammer tapped several times. She felt the collar tighten a bit on the back of her neck as he bent it.

"There!" he announced.

He picked up the cutters. "Tell me if you're choking," he told Snow, and worked the blades into the gap. It wasn't very comfortable, but she could breathe. She clung to the edges of the table as he closed the handles of the cutter, his massive muscles straining to chop through steel. There was a 'clunk', and he made a small, satisfied noise. He turned to Ally.

"I'll need you for this part, Huntress."

Ally nodded, and called for Darkness, who was still outside. A few of the villagers had approached, and after a few tense moments, when they were sure the Panthers were on friendly terms, they had begun sharing news and gossip.

"Keep an eye on him," Ally said quietly, and set down her bow. She walked to Snow and the blacksmith.

Grigor touched a spot on the other side of the collar from where he had cut through. "Dig your fingers under there and hold on tight."

Ally wiggled her slim fingers between the steel and Snow's neck. Now she almost was being choked, but she kept silent. She was too close to having the hated collar removed to complain.

The blacksmith used the hammer and spike again, carefully tapping it into the gap in the steel and wiggling it to widen the space. Then he pressed the small spike against the collar 

just above the cut, and smacked it a couple times, bending the steel towards Snow's neck. Finally, he took hold of both ends, and with a snarl of effort pulled and pulled and pulled.

"That's good," he said to Ally. "You can let go. We're almost there."

He smacked the ends of the collar again and again, curling them back, widening the gap. A couple times he pulled with his hands. Finally, there was enough space to slip the collar from Snow's neck. She straightened and ran her hands over her bare skin, a pleased smile on her face.

"You have my thanks, Grigor," she said with a little bow. Ally set the gold coin on the table.

"And you have my thanks, Huntress," Grigor said, eyeing the gold happily.

They exchanged well wishes, and the Panthers left the village. None of them noticed the adolescent boy who had dashed through the fields south of the village, and was now trotting along the east bound trail, a young man with a serious purpose.

It had only been a slim band of steel, an insignificant thing, but with the hated collar removed Snow was happier than she had ever been on Gor. The collar may have only weighed a few ounces, but the symbolic weight had been massive. Now, with the brand burned off her thigh and the collar cut off, all evidence of her time in the training kennels was gone.

Ally noticed her good mood and laughed. "You're practically skipping!"

Snow grinned and impulsively gave the Panther a kiss on the mouth. Darkness, a few steps behind, smiled indulgently. Snow spun and danced back and kissed the other Panther on the cheek.

"Thank you both for helping me get that done. It means more to me than I can tell you."

They stayed close together on little-used side trails and made good time. Before night fell, they were within sight of the main trail.

"We'll stop here for the night," Darkness announced. "We might catch up with the others tomorrow."

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the trio, a few miles to the southeast a young lad was on his hands and knees, gasping with exhaustion, soaked with sweat, giving a report to the commander of a small garrison.

"The Panthers are on the move."

With speed, discipline, and military precision the soldiers sprang into action. Scouts dashed ahead to reconnoiter. Armor was donned, weapons were gathered, packs were shouldered. A squad of twenty experienced fighting woodsmen marched deep into the night. When they found their quarry, they were efficient and brutal. No quarter was given, no prisoners were taken.

The warriors moved west, easily locating their second target. By dawn, they were on their way back to their barracks, smiling and clapping each other on the back.

Ally was just starting to think about calling for the first rest of the morning when Snow suddenly stopped in her tracks, holding up her right fist. The barbarian girl's eyes were wide and she turned her head from side to side, listening and sniffing the air.

"Something's wrong," she murmured.

Ally moved next to her. "What is it?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right. My spider sense is tingling."

Both Gorean girls stared at her, and she laughed soft and nervous. "Sorry. Earth saying. But can't you feel it?"

For almost the first time on the trip, she drew her war club. Darkness and Ally moved off the trail and Snow walked on the very edge. They stalked forward, silent and cautious.

Ten tense minutes passed before Darkness made a soft sound of dismay. She made a noise to alert and stop the other Panthers, her nostrils flaring. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She recognized the scent in the air, the stench of after-battle.

"Quick!" she hissed, slipping out of the trees to dash forward, Ally and Snow on her heels. Her short sword was in her hand as she turned around a bend in the trail, disappearing behind a massive, ancient tree. The other two girls caught up moments later, almost running into her. All stared in horror at the scene before them.

The group with the cart had been slaughtered, their bodies thrown in a careless pile. Scavenger birds and hungry urts were feasting on the corpses.

Ally was the first to step forward, swinging her bow, chasing the carrion eaters away. Darkness shook off her paralysis and looked around wildly, scanning the area for their sister's attackers. Snow felt sick, her legs shaking.

Ally re-joined them, her eyes bright with tears. "Dark, what happened here?"

Darkness stalked around the scene of the carnage, her expression grim. Snow sat down before she fell, trying not to look at the five bodies. Fat, silent tears rolled down Ally's cheeks.

"They were ambushed," Darkness reported momentarily. "Fifteen, maybe twenty men. They were waiting for them."

She pointed to a spot at the edge of the trail. There was blood on the leaves of the trees adjoining the worn path.

"They killed whoever was scouting and brought her body here."

Her voice shook with emotion. "Whoever did this, they were good. Our Sisters didn't have a prayer."

Snow looked up at the other two, alarmed. "What about the lead group?"

They looked at each other, the same fear rising in each heart. Without a word, they were up and moving, hurrying down the path.

"The men came this way," Darkness announced as they ran. "Less than a day ago."

It was an hour later that they found what was left of the vanguard. Ally fell to her knees, panting and sobbing. Darkness let out a cry of such anguish that the very trees of the forest seemed to weep.

This time, Snow was the one to go to the bodies. Her jaws clenched and her whole body shook. 

'The only people on Gor that ever showed me even a tiny bit of kindness,' she thought. 'Murdered like criminals because they wanted to be free'

Something inside of her broke as she looked down at the corpses sprawled on the forest floor. She had thought she knew what it was to be angry before, but it was nothing compared to the slow, overpowering rage that began to grow inside her.

She looked back. Darkness and Ally were clinging to each other, overwhelmed with grief. Snow joined her sisters, and for a long time they held each other, crying and howling in the quiet of the Gorean forest.

That evening, sitting close in a tiny clearing hidden deep within the trees, they quietly tried to figure out what had happened. Snow wondered if Markeela, the only other member of the Clan that hadn't been killed with the two groups, could have betrayed them somehow.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Darkness' face at the thought. "Markeela wouldn't. There's nothing in it for her. She despises the Free and has no use for gold."

"Then it had to have been the villagers. They were the only other people who knew we were travelling now."

"Now," Ally repeated in a beaten voice, wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand. "What now?"

Darkness looked away, her own eyes red and puffy from weeping. Ally looked to Snow. The Earth girl's electric-blue eyes blazed with fury in the dark.

She gripped her sisters hand tightly, and growled a single word.

"Vengeance."

They chose to stay where they were and wait for the last member of the Clan. "We can't find Markeela, but she can find us." Darkness explained. "She's the best tracker and scout I've ever seen."

The trio was safe in the little clearing. It was away from any trails, there was no sign that any predator had been near in a long time, and they had enough food and water for the moment. They gathered fruit and nuts to supplement the jerky they carried, and found a small spring--little more than a trickle, but sufficient for three.




Panther Tales Ch. 07



The next two days passed slowly. They spoke little, but spent a lot of time holding and comforting each other as best they could.

True to Darkness' prediction, when the sun came up the third day after the massacre Markeela was there. She too had seen the bodies and the carnage, but while Ally, Darkness and Snow had grieved, she had immediately begun scouting and planning.

Markeela shook off any attempts to hug or touch her. She took a stick and began drawing a map in the dirt, explaining what she had discovered in her quiet, raspy voice.

"We're here," she began, drawing a small circle. She added a long, crooked line.

"This is the trail. The...the attacks came here," she poked the end of the stick into the ground, making a dot, "and here."

The others watched as she added two more circles to her map.

"This is the village you all stopped in."

She tapped the stick against the ground, thumping the other circle softly. Her lips quivered with anger.

"This is where the soldiers came from."

Snow tilted her head and looked at the Gorean girl. "How do you know?"

Markeela met her gaze. "I followed the trail back there. I saw it. There's maybe thirty fighting men, another ten for support, and a dozen or so kajira."

Ally ran her hand through her hair. "Way too many for any kind of direct assault. But maybe a night raid? Take out at least a few and steal the girls away?"

Snow growled softly. "We will not be slavers. I won't have anything to do with that. If the *prisoners*," she stressed the word, "want to come with us and be free fine. We won't force them."

"We can't anyway," Darkness added. "Dragging reluctant girls with us will slow us down too much."

"How secure is the place?" Snow asked. "How hard to get to the prisoners?"

Markeela was now pushing the end of the stick into the soil, digging a small hole where the soldier camp was drawn. "Usually four sentrys patrolling. The girls have a big tent they sleep in when they're not serving. I don't know if they're chained."

"Okay." Snow looked at the other Panthers. "We can definitely take out the sentrys. Then we go to the kajira tent, offer to take any of the girls with us, and kill anyone that gets in our way as we leave."

"Or we die," Ally tacked on.

"Or we die," Snow agreed.

In the deepest part of the night, the four Panthers huddled, the soldier's outpost just barely visible in the distance, lit by the dim light of a single fire. They had swallowed their horror and returned to the cart, gathering up the darkest clothing they could find. They were wrapped and hooded in a variety of brown fabrics, a parody of a Free Woman's robes.

Darkness whispered last minute reminders. "If you're spotted, limp and whimper and act like you're lost and maybe injured. With any luck, the guards won't attack. Put your big weapon down and use your dagger."

Ally and Darkness slipped away into the night to circle around to the far side of the camp. Markeela and Snow crept closer and closer, freezing when they saw a shadow moving in the dark-the closest sentry.

Markeela put her lips next to Snow's ear. "That one's yours. If you fuck this up, you better pray they take you before I get my hands on you."

Snow made a tiny snorting noise and gripped her sister's bicep. "You worry about yourself, Panther," she whispered back, and waved her hand in the direction of her target. "That fucker is already a corpse-he just doesn't know it yet."

The other girl grinned and patted her shoulder, than darted away, swift, silent and deadly. Snow waited until the guard was past her position, then pulled her hood tighter around her head to hide her blond hair. Crouching low in the tall grass, she snuck up behind him as fast as she dared.

The sentrys made it easy. They were patrolling in name only, shuffling listlessly around the camp perimeter, heads hanging with fatigue, just killing time until their replacements relieved them. Snow's quarry didn't even look around until she was upon him. 

He never had a chance. He didn't even have time to cry out before her war hammer smashed into his face, knocking him off his feet. The spikes in the club's head sunk in deep, and the club was wrenched from her hands as the big man fell. Snow yanked her dagger out of its thigh holder and thrust it into his throat, not caring that his blood splashed all over her. She twisted her hammer free and trotted towards the rendezvous spot, her adrenaline pumping, her electric blue eyes blazing with bloodlust. 

Ally was already there, her smile fierce and terrifying, her short spear coated with blood. They listened intently, but heard no loud noised or cries of alarm. Darkness and then Markeela joined them after a few moments, both their weapons bloodied.

"Follow me, "Markeela whispered, and they slipped into the camp proper. The kajira tent was near the center, large and plain brown, surrounded by a few hastily erected wooden buildings. The Panthers paused outside the tent, looking around warily. There was no sign of activity anywhere. 

'Not even a mouse,' Snow thought to herself. Darkness nodded and the group entered the tent, brandishing their weapons.

The girls were all asleep, crowded in the tent, piled up like kittens on the fur covered ground. A single lamp burned low, offering just enough illumination to pick out the girl's individual forms.

"Silence!" Darkness hissed into the gloom, her voice quiet but filled with authority. The others echoed her word as the kajira woke with a start, scrambling to their knees out of instinct. She waved her sword back and forth menacingly. "First girl to make a sound dies!" she snarled.

Snow counted eleven in all, kneeling, crouching or sitting, some stuffing their fists into their mouths to keep themselves quiet. Most of the girls shrank back, trembling, their eyes wide with fear, but she noticed one, a small black haired girl, looking at the Panthers hopefully.

The kajira made a few tiny squeaks and whimpers, but nothing louder than normal sleep noises. Ally stepped forward, her hands on her hips, her bearing regal.

"We offer freedom," she said simply. "If you would be free, come with us now."

The girls looked at each other, shocked and amazed by this unexpected announcement. The black haired girl Snow had spotted was the only one to react. She scrambled forward on her hands and knees, shaking with excitement.

"Please," she moaned. "I'll do anything to escape this place."

Ally reached down and pulled the girl's upper arm. "Rise, little Sister," she said gently. The girl stood on quivering legs. She wore only a brief slave's rag around her hips, and her brown eyes glistened with joyous tears.

Darkness waggled her bloody sword again, scaring more sqeaks from the rest. Markeela poked her head out the tent's flap.

"It's clear," she murmured, and looked at the former slave girl who would go with them. "Ready?"

The girl nodded, and Ally gently squeezed her shoulder.

"We run. Fast and quiet."

They darted through the narrow opening and sprinted for the forest. As soon as they were out of the tent, they heard the remaining kajira start to scream.

It didn't matter. By the time any of the soldiers roused, dressed and managed to drag a coherent story from the near hysterical girls, the Panthers were long gone.

The girls ran until they were gasping, 'rested' by walking and staggering, holding each other up, forcing themselves to keep going until they were ready to drop from exhaustion. 

Markeela, who knew the forest better than anyone on Gor, found them what she called a safe spot around midday. For the last mile or so, she trailed the group, carefully erasing any sign of their passage.

"I'll stand watch," she said. "Get some rest. We move on at dusk."

Darkness curled up and fell asleep, but Snow and Ally had to help the newly freed slave. She was in agony, her legs cramping from the strain, and the two Panthers kneaded and massaged her spasming muscles. She was so tired she could barely move, but kept mumbling "thank you...thank you so much for rescuing me...thank you..." until finally her eyes closed and she sighed happily.

Snow looked at her Panther sister and smiled with love. "We did a good thing today. Thank you."

Ally leaned over and kissed her lips softly. "Get some sleep," she said, and added teasingly "little panther cub."

Snow laughed and shook her fist playfully. They curled up close to the new girl and gave in to their fatigue.

She was an Earth girl, only an inch or two taller than Snow, with jet black hair that flowed in graceful ringlets down her back and surprisingly large breasts for such a small frame. 

She had been victimized by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gorean slavers had targeted one of her best friends, and she just happened to be staying overnight at the other woman's apartment when they came for her. She guessed she had been on Gor a little more than a year.

Her real name was Judy, but they decided to call her July. It was the month she had been abducted, and close enough to her old name to allow her to keep her identity but still accept her new situation.

"The entire time I've been here, I kept hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Now I keep thinking I'm going to wake up from this good dream."

Her time with the soldiers had been a horror for her. She could deal with the work and the chores, but being used sexually by 'those gross fucking animals' had driven her to the brink of suicide.

"They kept telling me how beautiful I was, and how beautiful I could be. All the time, I was wishing I was a four-hundred pound circus freak or something."

Snow listened and nodded, her teeth and stomach both clenched, and a plan began to form in the back of her mind. She filed it away for later. First, they had to pay a call on a small village.

'Those sonsabitches will find out,' she vowed to herself. 'Payback's a bitch...and so am I.' 



Panther Tales Ch. 08



Ally smiled tenderly as her hands glided over the soft, luscious skin of the girl sharing her furs.

"We go tomorrow night," she whispered. "Are you ready?"

July looked up, her slim body quivering as the Gorean girl carressed her. "I-I don't know." she answered honestly.

"You'll do fine. Just listen to Darkness, keep your eyes open-and run when we tell you to."

Ally lowered her head, burying her face in the other girl's dark curls. Her lips nibbled July's neck as her hands wandered over her hip and stomach, coaxing her onto her back. She smiled and sucked gently as July's legs opened, and her hand drifted lower. 

Ally was fond of Snow, but her infatuation with the newest member of the Clan went far beyond that. If it wasn't so absurd, she would have said she was falling in love with the former kajira. 

She had pulled Snow aside two days after the raid on the soldier's camp that had set July free and confessed her feelings. She was terrified that Snow would be angry. Instead, the little Earth girl had kissed her cheek warmly.

"It's better this way," was her only comment.

In truth, her experiences on Gor had turned Snow off so completely it felt like someone had flipped a switch inside her. She had enjoyed her trysts with the Ally and Rendill, but had no desire for more. 

That left Ally free to pursue July. Much like Snow had when she first offered to share her furs, July had accepted more from a longing for gentleness and tenderness than any true Lesbian desires. After her time in a collar it was so precious to have a lover that wasn't demanding, cruel and brutal. It was wonderful to be able to have sex on her own terms, and even to be able to say no.

Ally understood this. She touched her lover like she was made of glass, her hands whispering between the girl's legs, brushing the warm, soft treasures, coaxing a gentle climax from the lovely black-haired girl, then held her trembling body close, murmuring soft, tender words.

Finally, July raised her head, kissing the other girl sweetly. She knew if she said goodnight now, Ally wouldn't press her, and the knowledge was heady and empowering. Instead, she stroked her face and urged her to lay back.

"You make me feel so damn good," she smiled as she slid her hand down between Ally's legs.

They had played enough that July also knew what Ally liked. Gentle and tender wasn't her way. Her hips twitched eagerly as July slid two fingers into her wetness and pumped fast and hard, feeling the Panther girl thrash as she boiled to a huge climax.

Just far enough away to be unobtrusive, Snow heard the whimpers and gasps of the girl's lovemaking and shook her head, chuckling silently. She could still scarecely believe the absurdity of it all. Marooned on another planet, an outlaw leading a small group of fierce female warriors-it was ludicrous. 

Still, it could have been worse. She was alive, healthy and free, and could rely on her Clan. She stroked her chin, remembering how close it had come to collapsing.

The morning after the raid on the soldier camp that had freed July, Markeela-still driven by bloodlust-had urged them to march directly to the village and attack.

Her 'plan' had been to simply roar through the village in broad daylight, kill as many people as they could then vanish into the forest. Snow wanted more.

"If we're gonna do this, let's do it right," she urged. "I don't want to just leave a few bodies behind-I want to wipe that fucking village off the planet."

Markeela had actually picked up her pack and weapons and started towards the trail, confident the others-at least those born on Gor-would follow her. When she looked back and saw no one had moved, her eyes blazed with anger.

"You're going to let this barbarian girl lead you?" she had sneered.

There was a lot of looking at the ground and shuffling of feet. July, newly freed and unsure yet of her status in the group, clung to Ally's arm, her eyes wide with fear. Darkness spoke at last.

"I'm going to listen to the barbarian. I can tell she's got a plan."

Markeela had stomped back to the group, stopping directly in front of Snow, glaring down at the smaller girl.

"Tell me...promise me you're not just going to stall and wait for us to forget. Swear we avenge our Sisters!"

Snow met her gaze unflinching.

"I swear it. When we're ready...and it won't be long...we will, as they say on Earth, tear 'em a new asshole."

The angry Panther held her gaze for a long moment, then slowly nodded and offered Snow her hand. They shook in the Gorean manner, clasping each other by the wrist as Snow let out a sigh of relief. She needed Markeela. She needed everyone if they wanted to do any real damage.

It had taken almost two weeks to get ready. They needed arrows, cloth, and most of all oil. The group had only salvaged one small jug of Tharlarion oil from the carnage, and for Snow's plan to work, they needed at minimum a gallon or two.

They had more than enough gold to buy what they needed. The problem was trust. There was no way to know what villages were safe.

"What about the other Clans?" Snow had asked. "Would they sell us oil?"

Ally shook her head. "There's only five of us. Any other Clan would be more likely to put us in chains, steal everything we've got and sell us to slavers."

"So we have no allies then?"

"None that we can trust."

So, with no other options, they decided to steal what they needed. Snow and Markeela took a two day journey to the next village beyond their target, while the others stayed busy making arrow shafts and trimming feathers.

In the darkest of the night, they had slipped into a store room or supply hut. Markeela opened containers and sniffed until she found what she wanted. 

"I'll carry this," she whispered, lifting the heavy jug. "You lead and keep the path clear."

They had barely stepped out through the doorway when a hulking figure loomed up out of the dark. Snow would never know if the man was on guard duty, or just out for a late night stroll. He had just enough time to say 'What...' before her club swung, smashing into the side of his face. He hit the ground with a soft thud.

"Quick!" Markeela hissed, and the two took off running.

There was a single shout of alarm minutes later, but it was well behind them. As far as either Panther could tell, there was no one on their trail. They took turns carrying the oil-maybe three gallons, more than enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Snow placed one hand on the wood building in front of her and panted, catching her breath after the long crouched sprint through the fields. It occurred to her that she spent a lot of time skulking around in the wee hours of the morning.

She knew Markeela was on her left, somewhere in the dark, and Ally was off to her right. Darkness and July were on the other side of the village, hiding at the very limit of arrow range. They had been chosen as the archers because Darkness was the longest shot, and the little barbarian girl was the best shot.

It turned out that back on Earth, July's father had been an expert-an alternate on Canada's Olympic archery team. July had been using a bow her whole life. It was a little adjustment from the compound bows of Earth to the simple, single-string Gorean weapon, but the principles were the same.

Snow moved silently around to the side of the building, and her jaw clenched in anger. There was a small cage on the ground, and stuffed inside was a small girl, naked and shivering.

She felt the rage start to boil inside her as she tapped softly on the bars. "Pssst...pssst...hey."

The girl jerked and turned her head, her eyes wide and bright in the dim light of Gor's three moons. Snow put her finger to her lips, shushing the captive.

"Do you want out of there?" she whispered, leaning closer. "Do you want to be free?"

The girl's chin bobbed up and down, and Snow nodded slowly in approval.

"In just a second there's gonna be some excitement. I'll bust you out." She pointed in the direction Darkness and July waited. "Run that way. When you see other Panthers, yell that Snow sent you."

The girl kept nodding. 

"Try to stretch and loosen your muscles. You're gonna need to move fast."

The cage was too small for the girl to extend her legs, but she began to squirm and flex, preparing for flight. Snow looked up into the night sky.

"Any time now," she muttered.

As if on cue, tiny lights began appearing, arching towards the village. Some hundred yards away, Darkness and July had built a very small fire behind a little rock pile.

They had forty cloth headed arrows, soaked overnight in the extremely flammable oil Markeela and Snow had stolen. The two Panther archers lit them in groups in their fire, then launched them towards the wooden buildings.

As soon as she saw one land on a thatched roof, Snow stood and raised her war hammer. Three times it clanged down on the cage lock, breaking it open. She grabbed the naked girl by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

"Run!" she whispered urgently, patting her on the back.

"Thank you," the girl groaned, and began stumbling and staggering across the village as the first of the inhabitants began appearing.

The fire arrows were falling like rain. Some landed harmlessly on the ground, but a surprising number-more than Snow had dared hope-found targets. Several roofs were already ablaze.

She spotted movement to her left and sprinted that way, her eyes blazing with fury. She heard a scream of agony behind her as her hammer swung for the first time, slamming into a man's midsection, driving him to his knees. She piroutted and swung again, hitting him in the back of the head, sending him face down into the dirt.

A woman appeared in the doorway and Snow hit her too, the hammer smashing squarely into her face. She flew backwards, and Snow turned and ran.

The village was a hell of fire, screams, confusion and chaos. Snow with her hammer, Ally with her spear and Markeela with her short sword ran from hut to hut, chopping down the half-asleep peasants as they stepped out to investigate the bedlam. Man, woman, child-in her bloodlust Snow didn't care. She took them all down.

She was splashed with gore, her black robes sodden. It was even in her mouth, and the taste just fueled her fury.

"Torch! Torch! Torch!" she heard one of her Sisters screaming, and ran towards the voice. It was the signal that Darkness and July had exhausted their supply of arrows and were on their way to the village with torches.

A man stumbled into her path, his eyes wide with shock. She swung low, shattering his knee, and smashed his skull with a backhand swing as she ran by. Through the dust and smoke, she saw Ally thrust her spear into a giant of a man-the blacksmith who had removed her collar on her first trip to this village.

The Panthers gathered at the edge of the burning village as Darkness and July ran up. Each girl carried a burning torch, a branch about the size of an Earth baseball bat, and a bag containing four more.

July held both blazing torches as Darkness unslung her bow, and the others quickly grabbed two torches apiece, lighting them from July's flame as Darkness began sending real, steel-tipped arrows through the air, aiming for any place where the villagers were gathering in groups.

Screaming like banshees, the rest of the Panthers raced back into the village, a burning torch in either hand. The ducked into the first four homes they reached and tossed one in, adding to the conflagration.

Snow ran by two buildings that were burning freely, targeting one that seemed so far untouched. As she reached it, the door opened and a man stepped out, a sword in his right hand.

She reacted immediately, driving the blazing torch into his stomach, shoving him back into the house. His night shirt began to smolder as he fell on his back. The screams were deafening as she flipped the torch onto a bed, howling her battle cry as another fire started.

Snow stepped back outside. It was time to go. "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" she screamed, signalling the other Panthers, and sprinted back towards the rock pile the archers had started everything behind.

Markeela heard the cry of retreat and started to run as well, when suddenly a man staggered out of the smoke and fell to one knee in front of her. He was young, a lad on the cusp of adulthood. There was an arrow sticking out of his thigh, and he was gasping with pain.

He looked up at the dark Panther and threw his hands up, pleading.

"Mercy! Mercy!" he cried.

"That's me," Markeela snarled, and slashed her sword across his belly, slicing him wide open.

"FUCK Mercy," she howled as he fell.

Snow was the second one to the rendesvouz point, behind only Ally-third if you included the kajira she had rescued. The two Panthers grabbed each other by the upper arms and screamed incoherent words of triumph and victory.

When the whole Clan was together, they jogged towards the forest. Behind them, the village was an inferno, bodies littering the dirt streets. 

"Hellions!" Judy kept screaming. "We are fucking Hellions!"

Markeela looked at the nude girl running next to Snow.

"Who the hell is that?" she demanded.

The girl shuddered, but Snow set a bloody hand on her neck and grinned fiercely.

"A free woman."



Panther Tales



"Where are you from back in the world."

"Delaware."

"Why are you hunting slaves in our woods?"

The man looked back up. "I had been running a paga tavern in Dorsa," he explained. "The city was almost destroyed by the Kurri. I knew a man in Lara--a slaver--who gave me a job. Mostly I'm on the business side of things, but he insists everyone who work for him go into the field at least once a year. He says it helps us better appreciate what it takes to get merchandise."

Snow rubbed her chin, looking thougtful. "We haven't decided what we're going to do with you yet. We'll discuss it more in the morning. For now, you are in no danger. Consider this something like protective custody."

"That's good to hear. I do not want to be your enemy."

The girl nodded. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mouse move from the shadows and sit a few feet away, waiting. The girl had changed into the closest thing to slave silks in the camp--a cream colored camisk with gold trim, slit up the left hip high enough to expose the old brand on her thigh.

"One last question," the Panther said. "Do you know a merchant who calls himself Odessa? He's based out of the city of Harvik."

The man in the cage thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't recall that name."

"How about an Earth male named Weston Summerville?"

Again, the man pursed his lips in thought, and again shook his head.

"Ok," Snow continued, then whistled softly. Mouse came out of the shadows and knelt by her feet, her head bowed, her every movement and action the perfect reflection of the kajira she had once been.

Snow hated this, but forced herself to play the role of uncaring Mistress. 

"This is Mouse. She's yours for the night. Try not to make too much noise--either of you."

She made the officer go to the back of his cage and turn his back, then unlocked and opened the door. She had just enough time to offer Mouse a sympathetic smile before pushing her roughly into the cage.

When he heard the door clang shut again and the lock click, the man now known as Kal-El turned back around. Snow gave him a long look, her expression unreadable.

"Good night Earth man," she said quietly.

"Good night Huntress," he responded, and she walked away.

There is no creature more wretched, more hopeless, or more miserable than a Gorean slave. Male slaves, or kajirus, are commonly forced to do the most back-breaking, dangerous jobs on the planet--working in mines, chained in the bowels of ships as galley slaves, quarrying stone and the like--for bosses who have no concern for their well-being. They are poorly treated, poorly fed, often beaten, and if they get sick or injured are usually just killed outright. The very small number of male pleasure slaves are viewed with contempt by every other strata of Gorean society. The idea of allowing one's self to be commanded by women is repugnant to all Gorean males and most females; further, everyone realizes that any male trusted enough to be a bed chamber slave is one that has been broken so completely that even the idea of rebelling is unthinkable.

For female slaves, life consists solely of drudgery, hard work, brutality, terror and rape. Most of the hapless girls are worked hard from dawn until dark, then expected to spend the night being beautiful, alluring and passionate. To not respond to a Master's lust with enthusiasm means a whipping at best, and can mean being tortured to death. For whatever reasons, nothing makes a Gorean male harder than that combination of fear-filled eyes and a squirming, responsive body. Having to pretend to love the attention of free men--having to appear eager to be used as an object of their lust--is the most horrid part of wearing a slave collar. Indeed, while Gorean slave girls call each other sa'for a in public--literally, 'sister of the chain,' in private they often refer to each other as sa'danra--sister in misery.

Part of Mouse was appalled at how easily she had slid back into a slave girl's mindset. Even after nearly a year of freedom, it was effortless. She had worn a collar for several years before Ally had killed her Master and set her free, and the brutal training remained second nature. As she knelt before the man named Michael Graves in the cage they now shared, her body trembled from that familiar combination of fear and need. She didn't even try to fight it. She needed the slave fires to burn hot in her belly to get her through this night.

After the initial surprise of being handed such a gift passed, Michael was nearly overcome with relief. After all, if the Panthers were giving him a slave for the night, their intentions towards him must be positive. The small girl kneeling before him was hardly a beauty by the standards of a kajira, but she still outshone most of the girls he had known in his old life on Earth. He felt he acquitted himself well as a Gorean Master, wasting little time in mounting the girl from behind and using her well, and Mouse wept silent tears of shame as her body responded to the rough treatment, helplessly climaxing again and again as he thrust brutally into her.

He gave her no time to recover after his own pleasure, pulling her cruelly by the hair and forcing her to use her mouth first to clean, then to revive him. Half forgotten skills and techniques made their appearance as Mouse's small head bobbed in his lap, and his eyes glittered with angry lust as he made the girl minister to his needs with her mouth and tongue. He finished the evening by pushing her head back down onto the dirt floor of the cage and taking her tightest hole, slamming in viciously while poor Mouse stuffed her arm into her mouth to muffle her shrieks of agony. The pain of the brutal buttfucking made fresh fires blaze in her tiny body, and she thrashed and wiggled underneath him, thrusting her hips back at his battering weapon as he drove her to the peak of passion.

At last, drained and sated, he collapsed in the furs and pulled her close, keeping her warm body pressed against his as he slept happily.

Michael woke to the sound of the cage's door being slammed shut. His eyes focused in time to see his playmate of the previous night scurry into Snow's arms. The little kajira, still naked, trembled as the Panther held her with surprising tenderness, her blue eyes moist with tears.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly as Mouse lay her head against her shoulder.

"I'm okay. I've had a lot of worse nights," the girl replied.

Snow kissed the top of the girl's head, then tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. "What's the verdict?" she asked, and Mouse shook her head sadly.

Snow wrapped her arm round the shivering girl's shoulders and led her away. Two more Panthers approached the cage--Darkness, and a girl with black, curly hair the prisoner hadn't seen the night before. July was the only other Earth born member of the clan, a half-Japanese girl kidnapped from her native Canada and the clan's finest archer. She held her bow now, an arrow pointed at Michael's face as Darkness held up a pair of wrist cuffs.

"Hands," the tall Panther said in a voice as cold as winter, and he thrust his arms through the bars, allowing himself to be handcuffed. Covered by July's bow, she opened the cage door and gripped the prisoner by the scruff of the neck, dragging him roughly to a T-shaped post. She lifted his arms and hooked the chain of his cuffs over the crossbar, then crouched and pulled an attached rope. The bar lifted until Graves was standing on his toes. He started to protest, but Darkness was in front of him again, forcing a Gorean style gag into his mouth--first a wad of leather that filled his mouth and muffled all sounds, then a leather strap buckled tightly round his head to hold it in place. It was uncomfortable as hell, and he began to quiver in fright.

Snow, Mouse, and Ally had huddled together briefly, until Ally left the little group with a snarled "Fuck!" and stomped away, glaring daggers at the bound man. Snow gave Mouse one final hug, then walked over to stand in front of the pole. The scars on her face seemed to pulse with rage, and her soft words came out from between clenched teeth.

"I always want to give Earth born men the benefit of the doubt. I always hope that there's still a little bit of decency left--a little bit of humanity that hasn't been killed by their exposure to this mud covered shithole of a planet."

The rest of the clan lined up behind her as she spoke, a strip of cloth dangling from each of their right hands.

"Last night, you were given the opportunity to prove to us that you're still a human being. A scared, helpless slave was given into your care, and instead of showing kindness and compassion, you acted like an animal. You didn't even talk to her--just used her selfishly for your own animal desires."

Michael began to struggle, pleading unintelligibly behind his gag, but the Panther ignored him. "There's nothing of any worth left in you. You're just another Gorean piece of shit," she finished.

A sling is a very simple weapon--easy to make, easy to carry and easy to use. Snow didn't know if she was the first to introduce it to Gor, but she insisted that every Hellion practice until they could hit a target a foot square from twenty feet away nine times out of ten. Her scarred face grim, she picked up her war hammer and slipped into the trees to patrol the camp perimeter as Mouse sent the first fist-sized rock flying. The soft thuds of stone hitting flesh went on a long time.