Curiosity Caught the Bat Act II Down the Rabbit Hole

Curiosity Caught the Bat

Act II

Down the Rabbit Hole

 

          Barbra Gordon screamed out from the shock of having ice cold water thrown on her. Instantly she sat up right and looked around to see where she was. She instantly noted to hard facts, she was naked and she was heavily chained in some bondage device that restricted her to the most basic movements. As her wrists and ankles were locked in steel shackles, she also felt the weight of a steel collar about her neck as well and there was a central chain that connected her collar, wrists chain, as well as her ankle chain.

          She scanned the area about her quickly. The building was of stone construction, as was the floor she was laying on. Bars on the windows. She was in some sort of cage or cell. There was a dark haired woman wearing a steel collar as well standing at the door to her cell. The woman looked familiar to her somehow. The woman was holding a empty wooden bucket on one hand. Barbra was sure that was where the water that had came from. The woman was barefoot, slim figure, wearing a revealing sleeveless tunic with a cord belt with a cylinder device dangling from it.

          “Time to wake up, princess.” The woman said sadistically.

          “Where am I?” Barbra asked still looking around.

          “Haven’t you been told, Princess that curiosity is not becoming in a kajira?” laughed the woman. Barbra took immediate notice of that as she had heard Cross say it twice now, once at the dinner and once when he was standing over her bound and helpless in the warehouse. Then she looked at the woman standing over her again. She knew her. It was the waitress from the Cross World Transit dining room! The woman noticed Barbra’s expression and recognition of her and smiled. “You are a bright little one. But then you had a reputation for being very bright and clever before now. Well at least you were most of the time or you would not have caught Master’s eye. But in the end you were caught and processed like same as some air- headed bimbo.”

          “I know you from the Cross private dining room.” Barbra said slowly, then glancing at the barred window that sunlight and the sounds of people could be heard coming through. But no machinery sounds? That was odd. “I take it that we are a long way from Gotham. Somewhere in the Mediterranean? Near Greece or in that area?”

          “Very perceptive of you, Kajira.” The woman said. What was her name? And there was that term again ‘Kajira’, it felt like she should know it or knew it from somewhere. Was it from a movie or book she had seen. “And you are correct. We are far from your former home in Gotham City. In fact, much farther than you expect or dreamed possible.” She softly laughed as she lowered the bucket to the stone floor of the cell. She then removed the device from her belt, activating the switch then twisting the dial on the side. The end of the device started to glow bright yellow. Barbra wasn’t sure what the device was, but she knew in her gut that she was not going to like it. Except for the glowing end of the device, it reminded of the police baton that her father had carried long ago when he was a patrolman. She eyed it wearily. “Put out of your mind any foolish thoughts or notions you might have of escaping and returning to your former life. For you that no longer exists, Kajira.”

          “Why do you keep calling me that?” Barbra asked.

          “That is what you are now. Just a simple kajira.” The woman smiled. “Now say ‘la kajira’”

          “What does it mean?”  Barbra responded.

          “Your world has been rocked little princess. You are no longer in Gotham where you a little bad ass crime fighter. Your Batman is not going to save you nor is your father with his police force. Nobody can save you. There is no escape for you. Your only hope for survival is to obey swiftly and be pleasing to those you serve. If you do that then your life will not be as unpleasant as it might be. Now say ‘La Kajira’”

          “You make it sound,” Barbra paused to look down at her naked and chained body strongly suspected that she knew the truth about what she was about to say. “like I am a slave or something.”

          The woman then struck Barbra several times with short cylinder shaped device that shocked her. Chained as she was there was no way for her to defend herself causing her to reel back from the woman and scream out in pain. That she was soaking wet from the water and locked in steel chains only made it worse as she could not get away and had to endure the assault on her body. Screaming out in pain and begging the woman to stop.

          “Say the words!” demanded the woman not letting up.

          “Please! Please Stoppp!” Barbra cried out.

          “Say it!” she demanded again. This time pressing the device to the nipple of Barbra’s left breast.

          “La Kajira. La Kajira! Please stop!”

          “See that was so hard now was it.” She said in a soft soothing tone. “Now say it once more after you get on your knees and are kneeling with good posture.” She watched as the sobbing and shaken former Batgirl, struggled to her knees in her chains. Christa did not blame her for her quick compliance and fear of the device. The slave goad had that effect on a slave girl, Christa knew this firsthand as it had been used on her for the desired results. Now she was allowed to use it to break and train the former Barbra Gordon. Slowly the naked and chained new girl rose to her knees and knelt then looked up to Christa. She eyed the device that had caused her so much pain so quickly and easily.

          “La Kajira.” Barbra said softly. Then looking up at the other woman. “May I know what I just said?

          “It was your first lesson in your new language. It means loosely, I am a slave girl.”

Barbra let those words sink in, not saying anything for a moment. It was too much to hope that her nakedness and chains were just means to keep her helpless. It all fit and after seeing the inside of the warehouse and the tubes with the naked women in them it all fit. Cross was a slave trader. Now she was one of those slaves that he traded in. There was nothing that she could do about that at the moment. Her friends had to be looking for her, and they were very resourceful so they should find her, it just might take some time. The question was how much time did she have before Cross and his people put her up for sale. Given who and what she was, it was highly probable that she would be given some training as a slave then sold in a premium private auction. So, she would have to bid her time and play the good slave girl.

“I can hear the wheels spinning in your pretty little head!” Christa laughed and clapped. “Your Super friends will not be coming to your rescue like I already told you, Kajira.”

“You seem awful sure of that. Like you know something that I don’t.” Barbra baited her hoping to get her to reveal more than she was supposed to.

“I know a great deal that you don’t.” she smiled. “Some of which I wish that I didn’t know. But look out the window and perhaps you will understand more. You’re a smart girl so I think you can handle it without going mad.”

Barbra slowly rose to her feet, the system of chains that she wore made it challenging. Her ankles and wrists were locked in steel shackles with about a foot of chain connecting the cuffs. A central chain ran up the middle of her body connecting her ankle chains to her wrists chains then on up between her breasts to connect to the collar she wore. As long as she wore this, she would not be doing any fighting for sure. Moving to the barred window of her cell she looked out and her mouth dropped.

 

        

           

“When our Master told you that if you ever saw his villa that you were find it very difficult to leave. He was not exaggerating. There are only two ways off this villa for either of us, being sold or given as gifts to new owners. Or we die.”

Barbra looked out the window as dozens maybe more than a hundred female slaves. They were working in the fields and orchards of the villa as well as around the grounds. There were men about some looked like craftsmen while others were clearly guards or soldiers. Then there was a loud scream from overhead, not human but from a bird. Just then a flight of large hawklike birds flew over the building and into view. They were massive and amazing. Then to her astonishment she saw that they each had a soldier riding on their backs like cavalry mounts. Barbra was dumbfounded and in shock.

“We are not on Earth, but on Gor. A smart girl like you I am sure that you’ve heard of it.” Christa said softly.

“No, that’s just a story from some cheap science fiction.” Barbra had heard of it. She knew about it from the books in her own library. She had read a couple of them when she was bored dismissing them as pulp fiction. Yet here it was in reality. And she was one of the slave girls that she had read about. Christa lifted the hem of her tunic up to reveal the mark she had taken for a birthmark in the dining room. It was not a birthmark, but a brand scar, one inch tall in the form of a cursive k. Just like in those books. Barbra instinctively felt and looked at her own left thigh.

“You have not been marked, yet.” Christa laughed at her. “Master wants to mark you himself. So, till then you are spared that or being used for the pleasures of his men till he says otherwise.” There was almost a tone of resentment in her voice at the last part. It was if part of her felt sorry for her while another deeply resented her for some reason. Either way, it didn’t really matter, she quickly realizing that there was little that she could do about anything for the foreseeable future. If this was not some horrible nightmare, and she was now a slave on a distant planet. Then there was nothing that she could do but obey and comply with everything that was required and demanded of her, regardless of how she felt about it. The deck was stacked against her.

She did not know the language and customs of this world. Had no idea of where she was or where to run if she did slip her chains. Which she was fairly confident that she could not only free herself of the collar and chains and even escape this cell. But to what end? If she had to guess any clothing that she could find would likely be that of a slave. She also reasoned that given the sort of men that she seen on this bird creatures and around the grounds. Impressive as her melee skills were. I would not be long until she was subdued and in chains once more. Like severely punished if not killed outright to be an example to others.

Death might be a quick way out of this for her. But if she had learned anything working with Bruce over the last couple years. It was that Death was no more an option that giving up. Life as she knew it was over, and it would likely become pure hell for her. She would be an animal here, she would be at the mercy of those that owned her, she could and would like to be raped and beaten at their pleasure.

Then the sudden shock of the device that Christa held brought her back to the moment as she cried out. Christa struck her twice more.

“Pay attention, slave, when you are being spoken too!” she screamed at Barbra. Barbra’s reflex kicked in, honed from years of training and conditioning, she turned and twisted extending her leg as far as she could to catch the ankle of Christa who had moved too close for another strike. She cried out in surprise as she dropped hard to the floor. Before she could scream for help, Barbra fell atop her clamping a hand over her mouth by bringing one wrist to her waists where the wrists chain passed through the ring in the central chain so she could reach with her other.

“Listen, I don’t know what you have against me.” Barbra cried out in pain as a strong hand tangled it’s fingers in her hair had pulled her backwards off Christa.

“I normally, don’t concern myself in the squabbles of slaves.” Barbra found herself looking up into the face of Rudkar Cross. He tightened his grip in her hair making her wince once more. “I was right, the collar and chains only enhance your beauty. But I know the answer to your question.”

Christa had rolled over on her belly to regain her composure after being taken down so easily by a slave in a sirik. That their master had saw what happened and stepped in only deepened her shame and embarrassment.

“You!” Barbra gasped and cried out again as the fist twisted more in her hair. “Please, stop doing that!”

“Please stop doing that, what?” He laughed. The pain from the strain on her hair was intense. Barbra had considered cutting her hair short several times to prevent it from being used against her like this. She had not followed through with the impulse because her father loved and often remarked about her scarlet locks. Not she was held just off the floor by them, as her toes barely touched, she could not raise her hands to do anything as the central chain of the restraint system kept them anchored in place. She was completely helpless at the moment, at best she might try and swing her body at him. But again, the chains limited her movement to the point that there would be little or no effect against him and only serve to cause her more pain.

Cross looked very different than she remembered him from when she was captured and the dinner. While she had always found him to be a very physically well-built and handsome man. The type that were he not definitely on the opposite side of the legal system she would be very interested in getting closer and possibly intimate with. That was while he was immaculately groomed and wearing expensive tailored suits. Now, struggling to not put any more strain on his grip in her hair, she saw him differently. The thousand dollar business suit that was tailored to conceal his chiseled abs and body now gone. Barbra could see that the man was built like a professional body builder or Greek God. Now he was dressed in a simple blue and yellow Roman style tunic with lace up ankle sandals. Barbra did not like the primal urge that seeing him like this was causing her.

“Once more my pretty little vulo.” He smiled as he lifted her higher causing Barbra to scream out once more in pain. “As you are new to your collar. I shall say this once, and only once, you shall address all free men as Master, and free woman as Mistress from now on as you are a slave.”

Barbra was not sure what a vulo was. But from the context of his calling her that. She could only assume that it was a small animal or bird of some sort. To the side she saw the woman, Christa had scrambled to her knees and kneeling with her thighs widely parted. Her expression was one of fear mixed with concern. It was if she was pleading with her eyes for Barbra to submit and obey whatever Cross demanded of her.

“Please, let me down. And I am not a slave.” Barbra not giving in despite how weak and hopeless her situation was.

“I would have been disappointed had you gave in and obeyed right away.” Rudkar laughed still holding her off the floor by her hair like a naked chained rag doll. Nodding to the men who had entered with him. They seized Christa and jerked her to the wall of the cell. Her dress what little there was of it was ripped from her and her wrists handcuffed through a iron ring mounted to the wall. Christa was begging and screaming, “Please Master, Please, it is not my fault, please don’t whip, Christa!”

“Now, I have little doubt that if I was to have you whipped for not doing as you were told. I could beat you till you passed out and it would take a day or two to break you.” He smiled looking to the girl at the wall. “But since you are a heroine. I will not punish you directly right now. I will make you watch as Christa is punished for your failures.” Looking to one of the men who stood behind Christa with a short, bladed leather whip, “Proceed.”

“Stop!” Barbra cried out as the first blows from the whip landed on Christa’s bare and exposed back.

“Stop, what?” Rudkar looked over at the girl in his grasp.

“Please, stop,” Barbra paused, “Master.” She felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t want to be a slave. But she also knew that she didn’t have a choice. If it only affected her then she would fight. And while they had gotten off to a rough start, she could not allow Christa to be punished because of her.

“Better,” he smiled lifting his other hand to signal that the whip does not fall again just yet. “What are you, little vulo?”

“I am a slave, Master. I belong to you.” Tears formed in her eyes as she knew that this was more than merely saying the words. She was his slave. He lowered her to her feet once more, his hand still in her air, she sunk to her knees kneeling as she saw Christa doing.

“You may survive this after all. It should flatter you that I vowed to own you that night in my private dining room. I wondered how to acquire the daughter of the police commissioner. After all, if I had my people abduct you then as we normally acquire new slaves. Given your family and connections, there would surely be an outcry and city wide search for you. Then, to my surprise, you delivered yourself to me. I was immensely pleased when I discovered that you and the daring dare devil Batgirl were one and the same.” Turning to the man with him, “I do not think Christa will require more strokes of the slave whip. At least for the moment. Release her so she may demonstrate for the new slave how to kiss the feet of a master.

Barbra was unsure if she should be grateful or not that at least for a few moments their attention was not on her, but on Christa instead. Christa on the other hand soon as she was released from the cuffs that chained her to the wall, dropped to her knees, lifting her bared flanks high in the air as her hair covered the sandaled feet of the man who had only moments ago been striking her with the five bladed leather whip. Barbra could hear as Christa kisses the feet of the man thanking him for not whipping her anymore and for letting her down.

“Watch her and learn my little slave. For you too will be kissing the feet of not only your owner but the feet of any free man just as she is now doing.” Rudkar informed her.

“How can I be a slave? Slavery has been abolished everywhere on Earth.” But even as the words had left her lips, Barbra knew that she was no longer on Earth. And where she now was it very possible for her to be a slave. The chains locked on her naked body were not those of a prisoner but those of a slave. What she had been told, what she had seen outside the window, left no room for debate, she had to listen, learn, and obey if she was going to survive this.

“I have been dealing in slaves for many many years. Denial is very common when females of Earth are introduced to their slavery. Some slaves actually go insane, but only a small percentage, as when we are selecting out future slaves for acquisition, we looking for the most intelligent females that meet the requirements. In your case, for example, Barbra Gordon had been selected based on her intelligence and beauty. Batgirl, for her physical prowess, intelligence, and the beauty and delights of her body that her costume teased and hinted at. That you are or were both, I should say. Was a fortunate bonus.”

“You keep referring to me in the past tense. I am still very much here even if I am chained as your slave.” Barbra challenged.

“Because pretty slave, Barbra Gordon and Batgirl cease to exist soon as you were unloaded from your tube and documented as a slave. You are now an animal to be bought and sold, gifted or traded. You may be killed at the whim of your owner. You eat when and what you are given by your owner. Likewise, you only wear and have what your owner wishes you to have. You do not even have a name until I give you one.” He paused to let that sink in before continuing, “Tomorrow, you will be branded with the common slave brand and given slave wine, unsweetened of course. As your have had your ears pierced already, like a good slave girl. That will not need to be done”

Barbra recalled something about pierced ears and slave girls but she wasn’t sure what the connection was. She had hers done when she was in Middle School. It had been some time since she had read the paperback novel about this place. But having the ears pierced added to be branded like an animal. Looking over she could see the brand clearly showing on Christa’s left outer thigh high near the hip. Not to mention this slave wine that if she recalled was a form of birth control, The trivial holes in her ear lobes on Earth, would make any chance at escape and remaining free near impossible if she was truly on Gor.

“After that your training and evaluation will begin.” Her owner explained further, “If you do well then you will be assigned to the household slaves. Do poorly, and you will be put with the field slaves, only allowed in the house when I order you cleaned up for my pleasure till either you improve or I tire of you and sell you at auction in the city. Am I understood.” The last was a statement not a question.

“Yes, Master,” Barbra answered weekly knowing that nothing less would be tolerated from her or accepted. She looked to Christa on her knees beside her. The woman clearly held some sort of resentment for her. What she still did not know or understand. And while she had been cruel to her with that device, Barbra could not bring herself to do anything that would bring the wraith of these men down on her as well.

“Very good, slave.” Rudkar smiled triumphantly. “I suppose that I should put a name on you slave, it will ease in your training if those working with you have something to call you other than slave.” Thinking for a moment, then smiling again, “I shall call you Scarlet for now. Do you like your new name, Scarlet?”

“Yes, Master. Thank you.” She said softly. She hated it actually, but then all her life people had called her “Red” because of her hair Why should this place be any different.

“You may show your Master how grateful you are by kissing his sandals, Scarlet.” Rudkar was pleased. He knew that she was only complying to buy time. He had trained and broken many intelligent and strong willed slaves over the years. Christa had presented her own set of challenges. The former Barbra Gordon and crime fighter known as Batgirl would be no different. In fact, she might prove to be more of a challenge, yet for now she was showering his feet with her kisses. Soon she would be eating from his hand and striving to please him or anyone who was free. “Good girl.” He said watching as her back stiffened at being spoken to as a child might be, or more appropriately, a pet or animal.

“Christa,” He turned his attention to the other slave this time speaking in Gorean, “You will share a kennel with the new slave Scarlet. I want her reasonably capable to begin her training soon as she is recovered enough from her branding. Ida, the first girl of the kennels will be watching and reporting to me.”

“Yes, Master.” This just kept getting worse for her. First, she had been shipped back to Gor from Earth. Now she was being watched by that bitch Ida who was high slave. Ida despised Earth girls or as they were commonly called barbarians. So, she would show no mercy and overlook nothing when reporting to Master so that the barbarians sluts were punished for their failures. Both of them looked up to watch as the man they called Master turned and walked from the kennel done with both of them for the time being.

“I don’t know what I did to you but..” Barbra started.

“Shut up you stupid slave. You have done more that you can possibly imagine to me! I am here because of you! Master wants me to train you how to speak and understand Gorean. He wanted someone that knew who and what you used to be rather than trust your lessons to someone you might fool.” Christa snapped cutting her off.

“I am sorry that I ruined your..’ Barbra started again.

“Yes you are sorry. A sorry excuse that is the reason I am back on Gor. I had made it back to Earth finally. I might have been a slave still. But I was there. I was serving Master in a world of modern marvels and not in the freaking Middle Ages or worse.”

“Back on Earth?”

“Yes back on Earth. I am from Earth as well. I was recruited and once worked for the same creatures that our Master does. When I had served my initial purpose, they had me branded and made a slave.”

“It couldn’t be much worse I suppose.” Barbra trying to wrap her head around what she had learned and offer some comfort to the other girl.

“Oh, it could be. You have no idea of the forces in play. Being a slave here or on Earth is nothing to what might be done to either of us. It can be much, much worse.”