Cuntjira of Gor

Here’s what it’s like in the real world (or, at least, at Kaya’s house) when a girl’s master starts reading (re-reading?) the Gor books on a quiet night in:

“Crawl over here, cuntjira,” he said, pointing to the floor by his side of the bed.

I sighed and gazed at the ceiling in search of slavish patience. I’d just checked with him 30 seconds prior to see if he needed anything, and he assured me he did not(!), before I’d stripped off my clothes and slathered myself with lotion. Now my skin was all wet and sticky and he wants me to crawl across the carpet? SIGHHHHHHHHH.

Besides. He was really playing up this kajira bullshit. Fucker.

Grinning, I hopped on the bed and slither-crawled, as clumsily as possible and all knees and elbows, across him to his side. He didn’t say where to crawl and the fastest way from Point A to Point B is the path a good kajira should take, right? Right!

“Kajiras are supposed to flow with grace!” he explained, cupping his balls and grunting as I “accidentally” elbowed him in the solar plexus.

“Sorry Master! I need training!”

He snorted and bit me on the shoulder.

“Kneel.” he said, shoving me off of him and onto the floor.

I did.

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