(Chicago) Jake - April, 2007

Chicago Jake, Hedonism II, April 1 to 7, 2007 

This was another great trip to Hedo (my 21st trip), but nothing particularly notable from all of my other trips occurred.  Many of my wonderful “April Fools” friends were there, who I have come to know and enjoy on trip after trip, and we laughed, talked, drank, and relaxed as we always do.  Hedo friends are the best!  You all know who you are. My only regret was that my wonderful Hazelita could not accompany me on this trip. 

The only other fly in the ointment was, I forgot to bring a book with me to read on the beach!  But, no problem, mon; I remembered that there is a shelf full of books, sort of a “lending library,” in the computer room off the main lobby.  So I went up there to select one to read while lounging in the sun on the beach.  There were all the usual books by Stephen King, Ken Follett, Mary Higgins Clark, and all those other hacks, but I wanted something a little different.  Something more... other-worldly. 

While I was rummaging around in the shelves, my eye fell upon a strange-looking manuscript. It was larger than the average paperback, and bound in soft, hand-tooled leather. As I flipped through the pages, I saw that it was hand-written, possibly with a quill pen, on some sort of foolscap or parchment.  I started leafing through the pages, and was captivated by the story that I began to read. I took it down to the beach, and spent most of the week reading, absorbing, and studying the fascinating story. This is what I read: 

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Hedonists of Gor 

The giant sea-sleen swam gracefully through the cool blue waters of the gleaming Thassa Sea, with me, Tarl Cabot, formerly of Earth, now of the harsh, brutal, yet beautiful planet Gor, astride its leathery back. I deftly guided it with sharp tugs on the steering straps, and kept it headed toward the distant beach of glittering white sand. The spray from the salt water soaked my unruly shock of bright red hair, and made my eyes sting. Nevertheless, I kept the beast on track for the stretch of sand glimmering in the distance. 

“Faster, my Ubar of the Seas,” I cooed to the sea-sleen, although it is widely accepted that sleen cannot understand human language. But the silky green monster seemed to accept my urging, and increased its pace. 

I was on my way to the famous pleasure gardens of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, on the shores of the gleaming Thassa Sea, on a mission for the Priest-Kings of Gor.  Precisely what my mission was, the Priest-Kings had not said. But they wanted me to visit this famous establishment of pure wonton lust and debauchery, and I presumed that I would determine my purpose upon arrival. After all, I have served Priest-Kings for many years, and they have not yet led me astray. 

Incidentally, He-Do-Niz was established several centuries in the past, by a coalition of many of the civilized cities of known Gor. It is recognized as an international demilitarized zone, so to speak, and is never attacked or taken by military force, even by the more war-like of the cities of this harsh, brutal, yet beautiful planet of counter-Earth on which I now live. It is intended to be a garden of pure pleasure, a respite from the harsh realities of life on this harsh, brutal, yet beautiful planet, and all cultures on Gor, the counter-Earth, on the other side of the sun from humanity’s home, respect that. I had no reason to expect anything but the most peaceful and pleasant of visits. Little did I know the troubles that awaited me. 

I intended to meet, on the fabled shores of that pleasant, idyllic location, in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, my free companion, Talena, daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars of Glorious Ar, she who had pledged herself to me so long ago. She would arrive, it was to be hoped, within days of my own arrival. I had hoped to spend not more than a day or two without her, although I was aware that her own affairs might well keep her busy for a longer time than I hoped. 

I guided the sea-sleen to the shore, and tied it up to the dock at the entrance to the famous sensual gardens of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. I jumped lightly to the sand, and tossed the reins of my sea-sleen to a dock-keeper. 

“Greetings, Warrior,” the dock-keeper said to me, recognizing my scarlet tunic, marking me as a member of the Caste of Warriors, and taking the reins and guiding my beast toward the public stables.  “Where is your companion?” he inquired. 

I was puzzled by this. How did a mere dock-keeper know that I was arriving with my free companion? Nevertheless, I answered him thusly: “She will be along shortly, my good fellow.  Please take good care of my Ubar of the Seas, as I will need him again when I depart.” 

I wandered the streets and beaches of pleasant He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, and took in the sights. I saw people lounging on beach towels on the sand, swinging in beach hammocks, and indulging in all manner of pleasure rituals. I saw a couple having oral sex beneath a Ka-La-Na tree; I saw another couple cuddling in a hammock; I saw yet another couple popping grapes into each others’ mouths in the surf. I observed a couple executing an extremely difficult sexual position on a floating raft in the bay.  I noticed a veiled wench of Port Kar performing the erotic Belt Dance before a crowd of cheering onlookers. I observed merchants purveying their wares in the public streets, selling pipes and papers for the inhaling of intoxicating herbs. I noted slaves, naked but for their collars, in the alleys, hurriedly conveying comestibles and beverages to their masters waiting in golden alcoves. As on all of Gor, slaves served their masters, and masters owned their slaves completely. 

I stopped a scurrying pleasure slave, naked but for the graceful golden slave collar about her throat, and asked her where I could find the nearest vendor of intoxicating beverages. “That way, good Master,” she said, indicating a direction westward along the beach with her eyes, her hands full of her burden of food and beverages on a tray of carved tem-wood. She batted her eyelids shyly and looked at the ground in my presence, unwilling to openly regard a free man of Gor. 

I followed the indicated direction, and soon encountered a stand not far from the gleaming shore of the Thassa sea; an oval-shaped pavilion, stocked with a staggering array of bottles of many shapes and sizes. I approached the pavilion, and regarded the proprietor. He was a tall man, bald, with an enormous smile, wearing the black and gold tunic of the Caste of Bartenders. 

“Good morning, Warrior, and respect, every time!” he said to me, noting the scarlet color of my tunic. “What might a humble bartender provide for you today?” 

I asked him for his specialty of the house, and he prepared for me a flagon of his specialty: a blended concoction of Ka-La-Na wine, rum, and ice. I chatted with the fellow a bit; his name was Delronicus, a fifth generation member of the Caste of Bartenders, and rightly proud of his worthy profession. I sensed that I would spend much time in the presence of Delronicus, of the Caste of Bartenders, during my visit to He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. 

“By the way, good Warrior,” Delronicus asked of me, “Where is your companion?”  He glanced up and down the beach, as if expecting to see my companion, Talena, daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars of Glorious Ar, within close proximity. 

“She shall be arriving within a few days,” I told him. “We expect to spend several weeks here, enjoying the pleasures of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor.”  Delronicus seemed pleased to hear it. 

After enjoying several glasses of blended Ka-La-Na wine and rum and ice from the blender of Delronicus of the Caste of Bartenders, I wandered to the central dining area, being hungry from my long journey. The dining area had a large buffet with many selections of foodstuffs: curried sleen, fried urt, roated bosk meat, and many other comestible delights. Incidentally, He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, offers meals at four times during each day: breakfast from 7 until 10 in the morning, lunch from noon until 3 in the afternoon, dinner from 7 until 10 in the evening, late snack from midnight until 2 in the morning.  However, there is also offered a “snack attack” at all other hours. No one need go hungry in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. Or so I thought at the time. 

I approached a flaming grill station, manned by a tall gentleman in the white and orange cloak of the Caste of Chefs.  His name was Char-Lee, according to a patch embroidered on his cloak. He asked me if I would like an omelet, and what ingredients I would like in it.  I told him to surprise me, and he did: he concocted an omelet of seven urt eggs, ackee, saltfish, bamee, and Ka-La-Na fruit, with Sa-Tarna bread on the side. As he handed it to me, he asked, “Where might be your companion, Warrior?” 

I regarded him with growing suspicion. “She is on her way, to meet me soon, good Chef,” I told him, regarding him through narrowed eyes.  I was beginning to be vexed by this fixation with my missing companion. As far as I knew, although I had never before been to He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, before, it was legendary for its hospitality, and not for suspicion aimed at weary travelers, accompanied or otherwise. 

Stopping at the front desk after my repast, I arranged for quarters at one of the central cylinders, known as H-Block. It was close enough to the beach, the dining area, and the drinking pavilion operated by Delronicus of the Caste of Bartenders. My free companion, Talena, daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars of the city of Glorious Ar, was due to meet me soon, but I was beginning to become impatient for her to arrive. Especially since everyone I met asked me where my companion was. I wondered if unaccompanied Warriors were somehow considered second class citizens here in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. 

Too, I began to notice that everyone on the premises were coupled: the patrons at Delronicus’s drinking pavilion were invariably couples.  The bathers at the nude pool complex were invariably couples.  The loungers on the beach, in the hammocks, and in the padded pleasure gazebos were all invariably couples.  As a single male, I began to feel a vague sense of unease.  Too, I began to sense that I was causing feelings of dread in the couples that I met. 

At last, while walking the beach and daydreaming about my beautiful Talena, daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars of Glorious Ar, and after all of the couples that I had seen in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, I detected another single male walking along the beach. Feeling a sudden sense of kinship, I flagged him down, as I would speak with him.  “Hail, fellow!  A word, if you please!” I yelled. He stopped, and instantly sank to his knees in the sand. 

“What would Master wish of me?” he inquired, his eyes averted toward the sand. 

“Only a word, my good fellow,” I replied. But he had already lowered his head practically to my very sandals, and raised his arms, wrists crossed, as if to be bound. It was then that I noticed the golden collar around his neck.  He was a slave! 

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked him, “that you would present yourself as slave?” 

“Does Master joke? Surely Master knows that all single males in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, are slaves. Only couples may walk freely in the hallowed beaches and tiled pleasure courtyards of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor.” 

I was stunned. I had never heard of such restrictions anywhere on known Gor. Certainly, slavery is common on this brutal yet beautiful planet on which I had chose to make my home. Yet it is never based on one’s singleness nor couple-hood!  Goreans are free to live a lifestyle that befits and behooves them!  Single, coupled, or otherwise, Goreans, on the whole, respect all lifestyles. Or do they?  I was beginning to wonder. 

Suddenly it all made sense to me. Everyone to whom I had spoken asked of my companion; if she does not show up with all haste, I feared, I might well be mistaken for slave myself! I glanced nervously up and down the beach, my hand on the hilt of my steel Gorean short sword, the very sword that I had carried in the siege of glorious Ar herself, so many years before. 

At that moment, a continent of guards, wearing the scarlet tunics of Warriors, as I did myself, but also wearing helmets with crests of Sleen hair, indicating that they are of the guardian Caste of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, approached me and took me rudely by the elbows.  My arms were pinned behind my back, and my steel sword was taken from me perforce. 

“Where is your companion, Master Warrior?” asked the leader of the contingent of guards, rhetorically.  He clearly expected no answer.  He was an ugly fellow with a long white scar across the right side of his face.  I instinctively hated him. 

“She is coming shortly, my good fellow,” I bit off the words, angrily, through clenched teeth. 

“A likely story,” said the scarred guard. “More likely still, you are an escaped DSM, and need to be taken to the slave pens immediately. Away with him!” he bellowed, indicating that his troops should take me from the beach with no delay. 

I soon found myself on the end of a long coffle of slaves, tethered together by a rough steel chain wrapped around each of our throats, with no more than five feet of chain between any two of us.  I also had hobbles on my wrists and ankles, allowing for limited mobility. There were twenty of us on the coffle, with me on the end. I asked the fellow next to me, “What, pray tell, is a DSM?” 

“You must be new here,” he growled. “A DSM is a Dreaded Single Male. They are forbidden here at He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. If you do not arrive with a companion, you are considered slave. You will be forced to serve the pleasure of the coupled patrons of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. Your life will be a hard one, and you will soon wish that you were dead.  But do not fear. Your wish will soon be granted. Few survive the life of a slave more than a few cycles of the moon.”  He snorted bitterly into his grizzled beard.  I noticed that he had few teeth, and his body was wracked and bent from bitter toil. 

From that day forward, my life was a living hell. As slave, I was forced to rake the sand of the beach; I was forced to scrub the toilets and sweep the walkways; I was forced to bleach the cooking pots and scour the kettles of the kitchens. Some days I worked the gardens under the blazing sun.  Other days I crawled on my belly like a snake, cleaning the plumbing beneath the pools and baths.  Still other days I broke my back turning the windlass that cranks the generators that power all of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. I, and my fellow DSM slaves, were worked eighteen hours a day, and given little more than scraps to feed upon, and a hard concrete slab upon which to sleep, before we were forced to begin it all again the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that. 

One day, several weeks after I was taken captive, as I was delivering a pallet of freshly scrubbed drinking vessels to the beverage pavilion of Delronicus, of the Caste of Bartenders, I was stopped by a fellow who wore the black and cyan tunic of the Caste of Iron Workers. His companion, a female of the Caste of Scribes, was on his arm. “Why do you not genuflect to this lady, Slave?” he asked of me, and clubbed me across the face, knocking me to the ground. He He Hepressed his boot to my throat to punish me for my insolence.  I groveled before him, and begged his forgiveness. 

“I only wish to deliver these freshly scrubbed drinking vessels to the beverage pavilion of Delronicus, of the Caste of Bartenders, good Master,” I said. “No harm is meant to you, or to your lovely companion,”  I said.  Nevertheless, he kicked me, hard, in the gut, and then escorted his lady from my presence. I writhed on the ground a bit, my cheeks burning scarlet with shame. But I eventually arose, and delivered the freshly scrubbed drinking vessels, and returned to my slave cot as quickly as possible, wracked with both pain and humiliation. 

That night, lying in my slave cot, chained to my fellow slaves on the coffle, having supped on several crusts of stale bread, and onions and peas, and nothing more, I considered my plight. Why should I, a Dreaded Single Male, or so thought by the denizens of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, suffer so? Are not Dreaded Single Males equally worthy in the eyes of the Priest-Kings of Gor?  Are we not equally entitled to freedom, to pleasure, to the enjoyment of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor? Of course we are! I suddenly knew why the Priest-Kings had sent me to He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. I resolved then and there that my lot would change, as would the lot of all DSMs in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. And it would change soon, and drastically. 

I tugged on the chain that was wound round my neck. The next fellow on the coffle stirred uneasily at the yanking. “What do you want? Be still! Go to sleep!” he hissed. 

“No!” I insisted. “We must resist! We are single males, but we are not DREADED single males. We are not second class citizens. We must rise up. We must revolt. We must demand our due!” 

“Shhhh!” said another fellow, four or five links down the chain. “You will get us all killed! Life is cheap here in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. Be silent, and accept your lot. It is the only way. Death will come soon enough. No need to hasten it.” 

But I could not accept that lot, and I never would. I was trained as a proud member of the Caste of Warriors, and would not bend knee to any as my superior. “Arise, my fellow slaves!” I shouted.  “Arise, and take that which is ours! Are single males inferior to couples? Are we somehow diminished? Do not single females need us to become coupled females? Does not the planet of Gor rely upon us to replenish its population? Are we less worthy? Are we not men?? Of course we are!!” 

The Priest-Kings have blessed me with a persuasive nature, and my plea struck a chord; the men of my coffle arose, and murmured, and grumbled, and eventually shouted their agreement. We are men! We are free! We do not need companions to be worthy members of society, nor do we need companions to enjoy He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor! We resolved to take our freedom, and our revenge, at first light. 

As dawn approached, and the three moons of Gor sunk below the horizon, our slave keepers arrived to rouse us for a new day of toil and misery. As the first guard, he with the long white scar across the right side of his face, approached, and kicked the first DSM on the coffle to rouse him, we all arose as one man. 

“Slavery no more!” I cried. The men of the coffle, of the slave chain, arose as one, and descended on the guard with the scar, and smote him, and he soon lay broken in a heap. We took the key to our chain from his belt, and soon we were all free. The other guards, taken aback, were too stunned to react, and soon they were our prisoners, their own swords held at their backs by their former slaves, their own necks locked into the slave chain that we had so recently escaped. 

“To the office!” I cried. As one, we descended on the management offices of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor, and demanded to see the General Manager. When he regarded us, his former guards in our control, their own swords at their backs, he agreed to our terms. 

From this day forward, he agreed, Dreaded Single Males would no longer be bonded as slaves; Single Males would be accorded all the rights and privileges of other citizens of known Gor; would be free to enjoy the beaches, the pools, the hot tubs, the food courts, the gardens, the aviaries, the miniature golf courses, the lounges, and the intoxicating beverages of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. A new day had dawned. 

My men cheered. “Hurray for Tarl Cabot, Liberator of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor!!” they chanted. My cheeks flushed with pride. I had done little, other than to inspire free men to live up to their true natures. For what is the nature of man, if not to be free? To be himself? To be what nature, and Priest-Kings, meant for him to be? I was happy. 

I wandered alone down the beach, a free man again, wearing again my scarlet tunic of the Warrior, and ready to enjoy the pleasures of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. I again approached the beverage pavilion of Delronicus, and again bade him to prepare for me an intoxicating drink of his own specialty. He swiftly and deftly prepared a concoction of great potency, and poured it into a flagon, and placed it in my hands. 

I looked Delronicus, of the Caste of Bartenders, wearing his black and yellow tunic, in the eye, and solemnly said, “Respect... Every time!”  Delronicus extended his fist, thumb up, and we shared the gesture of friendship of He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. All was good. 

I heard a shout form the shore. A sailing galley, masts extended and sails unfurled, was approaching the dock. As it moored, I saw, leaping from the deck, chestnut hair blowing in the wind, her turquoise sarong flapping in the sea breeze, her bare feet leaping to the dock, my own beloved free companion, Talena, daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars of Glorious Ar, coming to join me in here in He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. 

Life is good. 

Talena came and wrapped her arms around my waist, her turquoise sarong waving in the wind, her thick chestnut hair flowing down her back. We kissed, deeply. There would be time, later, to tell her all that had befallen me here at He-Do-Niz, the fabled jewel of pleasure of known Gor. In the mean time, I swept her up into my arms, and carried her back to our quarters in H-Block.  My mission for the Priest-Kings had been accomplished, and it was time for pleasure. At least, until the Priest-Kings should need me, once more, to serve again their inscrutable needs.......The End 

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I finished the strange tome, slamming it shut on my final day at Hedo, and returned it to the shelf in the computer room where I had found it, to be read and appreciated by future guests of the resort. I went back down to Delroy’s and ordered one last Coconut Rum with Pineapple Juice before my bus to Sangster was ready to depart at 1 pm. I had spent the entire week here, with many good and cherished friends, but without my beloved Hazelita. To be at Hedo, and to be in love, but to be at Hedo without your beloved, is exquisite torture.  I think I understood how Tarl Cabot felt without his free companion, Talena. In that fictional world I had just finished reading about, Dreaded Single Males were considered second class citizens. I was very glad that in the real world, that sort of prejudice never really occurs. 

Respect to all..... Chicago Jake ( jcesarone@ripco.com  )