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... It all started when some genius decided to make a little extra profit, selling replicas of the Lara Home Stone. Now, you have your usual Home Stone, Arran Style, BOOOORing, flat, maybe with a little color for those racy Ko-ro-bans. But this is the Free and Anarchic City of Lara. No slightly rounded, commonplace Home Stone for OUR nuts!

Let Me tell you a little about Myself and the quaint City I call Home. I'm a Scribe, in fact, one of the City's Senior scribes, of the Explorer/Mapmaker caste. On the side, and to pay My kajira-purchasing expenses, I run an Inn, the world-famous Lara Inn. Coincidentally the Lara Inn is located in the Free and Anarchic City of Lara, just off the Street of Chains.

Lara is one of those places... where everything seems a bit slanted. Oh, not like the cutthroats in Treve, or the Slave mongers in Victoria! Just... odd. Some think it's the water, some think it's because of the paga, which would never come up lumpy no matter WHAT We tried. But that's another story.

When Great Ar (they like it when you call them that, it makes them spend more) declared war on Vonda (the city, not the slave), they decided to "lean" on the other Cities of the Salarian Confederation, just to make sure they wouldn't join in the fun. Invading and rapidly decimating Port Omni and Vonda, they threatened Ti, and caused Lara to be overwhelmed with refugees who couldn't pay for anything.

Things settled down, but only after a few people noticed that since Port Omni and Vonda are north of Lara, it would have made sense for Ar to roll over the unfortunately-located City of Lara, rather than going ALL the way around it, fighting a war, then coming ALL the way around back. Do Arrans know something the rest of Gor doesn't? Is the way We think and look at the world -- decidedly eccentricly, if not downright mad -- catching?

We Larans will let you 'normal' [shudders] Goreans judge that one for yourselves. We'll just go on listening to the nice voices in Our heads, and seeing all those funny insects crawling all over the ceilings, and barking at the moons at night, on alternate Passage Hands...

In general, if you've seen one Home Stone, you've seen them all. You know, flat, oblate, slightly-rounded, cold to the touch... DOES sound like My first Mother-in-law, but I do NOT think she would suffer a bunch of drunken lunatics standing about, fondling, and yelling "Ta Sardar Gor!" until they dropped into a drunken stupor.

On second thought, maybe all that fondling would have a certain appeal...

Nooooo. The Home Stone of the Free and Anarchic City of Lara is very different from any Home Stone you've seen. I cite the following, a Citizenship Ceremony recently held, to illustrate. Now, as everyone knows, the high point in a Citizenship Ceremony is the Kissing of the Home Stone...

"Do you truly wish to become a citizen of the Free and Anarchic City of Lara, in the presence of ten other Citizens, Antiochus?" intoned Oryx.

"I do," answered the young warrior.

"Seargent-at-arms, do you affirm that there are none present, save the Candidate, who are not Full Citizens of Lara?"

The bulky Warrior, resplendant in his Warrior's Scarlet, with the Great Seal of Lara over His heart, answered, "I do so affirm."

"Affix the blindfold!" ordered the MasterScribe. The Warrior of Lara did so, covering Antiochus' eyes, so he would not see the Home Stone while not a citizen.

"Kneel, Antiochus." He did. Oryx uncovered the Home Stone of Lara, and some gasped quietly, amazed at the configuration of the Home Stone of Lara. "Kiss the Home Stone, and say, 'With this kiss I hereby accept upon Myself the defense and love for the Free and Anarchic City of Lara.'"

And Antiochus repeated those words, fixing his lips to the end of the 10" long stone phallus, gripped by Oryx by two pendulous round protuberances at one end.

Ah, yes. Found one day by someone who is no longer with Us while wandering the FootHills of the Thentin Mountains in search of a verr (why he couldn't use a kajira like the rest of Us, We've never been able to determine, and in fact were a little afraid to ask), the Home Stone of the Free and Anarchic City of Lara resembles nothing so much as a large (well, it IS Gorean) well-formed, erect Male Organ. We refuse to believe that the Priest-Kings decided to experiment on someone and petrified his pecker; and we also deny that the "Laran Length" as it is sometimes referred to was carved at the behest of a Free Woman who wanted something a little extra but didn't want to have to put her neck on the line for it.

The Laran Caste of Builders has attested that the Home Stone is a natural formation, and who would know more about erection, natural or otherwise, better than a Builder, I ask you?

Well, one day it happened. The Home Stone, which I'd thought to be lovingly nestled in its secret hiding place, was GONE! As I was wont to take on these jobs -- either I'm a glutton for excitement, adventure, and kinky sex, or I'm the world's biggest sucker -- I was approached by the head of the Laran Secret Service, A.

"You'll have to journey to Lara"

"But I'm IN Lara!"

"No, that metal worker guy, Kron is in Lara."

"He is? Where?"

"Where do squat, powerful men with short-clipped yellow hair, USUALLY enter Tatrices?"

"But what does that have to do with the Home Stone?"

"When the one-eared Wonder isn't inside her, the Home Stone is..."

"I don't understand!"

"Good!" exclaimed A in typical Laran glee over the confused. "The less you understand, the better!"

"But how did this happen?" I asked incredulously.

"It seems that some of the merchants began getting requests for... er, Rods of Stimulation, as the Tuchuks call them."

"I've never heard a Tuchuk say that," I demurred.

"That's because you've never listened. Tuchuk Free Women sometimes get very lonely, especially when the rest of the Band is off playing with Turians."

"But how did Laran Women hear of this?"

"Uhhhh.... it wasn't Larans... And it wasn't women."

"You don't MEAN--" I began.

"You betcha," A completed. "According to highly confidential intellegence, the Waniyanpi are having recruitment issues. Gorean Men just aren't interested in same-sex sex. Well, MOST Gorean Men..."

I laughed. "Oh, they left IRC long ago!"

"Only to reappear on the dreaded MSN. Now shut up and listen. Some of these merchants managed to lay in a supply of roughly-formed Tools, but then someone had a brain storm and realized that there was a big potential market for these things among Free Women. Except, having experienced real Gorean whangs they'd never settle for what a Waniyanpi would.

"Crafty as ever, these merchants searched for a model for their product. Now, as everyone knows, Gorean Male Organs are all ten inches long and an an inch and a half thick."

"They ARE?" I looked down, a bit worried.

A laughed.

"But--"

"Or so they are SUPPOSED to be. But as we ALL know, some are long and skinny, some are.. well.. less than the Heroic Proportion that Gorean Women believe them to be--"

"They DO? Lorelle always used to refer to others' shlongs as their 'pimple'"

"You know Lorelle was an exception. In any case, the best the merchants could come up with was someone of the Leather Workers Caste from Port Kar, whose dong resembled two Earthan soda cans, end to end."

"Oh My gods..."

"Yeah, that's what his kajirae refer to it as. 'Master's Oh this-one's God.' But, as exciting as that prospect is to Mr. Leather's slavegirls, a refined Free Woman wants quality, shape, subtlety in her... amusements."

"So they naturally thought of--" I tried again.

"The Laran Home Stone," A cut Me off once more. He was beginning to become a pain, the absolute worst straight man I'd ever worked with. He continued, nonplussed. "It is perfectly proportioned, stays still and erect so that an artisian can copy it in any number of media, and best of all, doesn't charge Union Modeling Fees."

"We have Unions on Gor?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"No, but they were covering all bets, just in case. So, they approached the City Council with a proposal, to 'contribute' a percentage of their sales to the Laran Treasury, if they could borrow the Home Stone for a short time."

I protested, flabbergasted, "Where was I when this came up for discussion?"

"Off on one of your AFS binges, mate."

I reddened, embarrased that A knew about that, but then I smiled inwardly, remembering her softly rounded hips, sweetly shaven slaveheat, and other pleasurable things that Gorean Men amuse themselves with.

He looked at Me. "They worked for a month, Stone Masons and Artists and Woodworkers, each working in their own medium making the maximum in the minimum of time."

"Huh?"

"Something wrong? A little too much paga?"

"Er.. no..."

A finally concluded His tale of Wee Willy's Woe. "It was at the end of a long day, when a shipment of stone replicas had already gone out to Tharna, that someone noticed the original was gone. So accurate were these copies, someone packed Poppa Prong along with the Clones."

"This could start a War you know."

"Yes... the Clone Wars..."

I gaped at A, whose real name, of course, is Annakin. "So why not call Obi-Wan?"

"Once upon a time, in a universe far, far away..."

"Oh," I said, not really understanding, but thankful that We were staying on Gor.

I could imagine what happened when the shipment arrived in Tharna. Naturally, the Tatrix had first choice of the tally-whackers. And, being the Tatrix, she chose the finest: the original Home Stone of the City of Lara. I now understood how, though it wasn't in Lara, it was in Lara.

And out. And in. And out. I began to mentally pant, thinking of the heart and soul of the City of Lara raping Lara of Tharna. An entire City, committing the most stupendous act of sex that had ever been conceived by the hand of man. Or Woman. Too, after tasting the delights of the Laran Larry, I doubted the beautiful Lara would give it up. I needed a PLAN!

"You need a PLAN," A said to Me, breaking My orgasmic wanderings.

"Funny you should mention that," I rejoindered.

"Funny? Who's trying to be funny?" exclaimed the Secret Service Head.

I looked at Him sheepishly, or more accurately, verrishly. "No one, Boss."

"Quite." He considered a moment. "You'll work alone, of course."

"But why Me? I think you should go, actually."

"I?" he stared at Me.

"Of course. I think the City of Lara should give of itself in this Crisis," I said earnestly to the Head of the Secret Service. "You've been very successful as Head of Secret Service, in fact you've been great! Everyone agrees you're a great Secret Service Head. And, I think it should be said that, in order to seize the Municipal Member, the City will give Great Head."

"But will I swallow?" He remarked, casually.

"Hmmmm... I see your point on that. But," I insisted, "Why ME?"

"Don't you always ask Me that, O?" he queried.

"Uh, yeah, cause I never know how I get all the ukky missions."

"You're the only one who can tell the real Home Stone away from the replicas. After all the Citizenship Ceremonies you've conducted, it has a certain resonance to you. It... vibrates in your presence."

"Really? I never noticed that!"

"Take My word for it... I have some VERY well-placed intelligence on the matter." He smiled enigmatically.

I shot a look at the Inn's mascot, a dirty filthy City Urt, `davey`, who just looked back, innocent.

"And besides, O..." He looked at Me. "You come cheap."

It took Me the better part of a month to get to Tharna, mostly because it was the Rainy season. Travelling by tharlarion in the pouring rain can be anything but pleasant. Too, I still had no clear idea of how I would swipe the Special Shaft from the Tatrix's grasp. Ever optimistic, and having already paid for a round trip, I grinned and bore it, hoping I would eventually grin and bear it. So to speak.

Entering Tharna, I experienced what Tarl Cabot had seen only the beginnings of just a few years before. Transformed from the dour City of Silver Masks and enslaved men, Tharna was a bustling, growing City, not unlike many other such towns on Gor. Moving through the open air market I kept My ears attuned for any mention of an Artificial Mr. Happy.

"Who's on her first?" I heard one merchant, a short round fellow, ask his companion.

"No, Kron is on her first. 'Who' got to her second."

"I don't know"

"Oh, he got there third"

"But Abbotticus, we're talking about the Tatrix here."

"I know, Lucus. Now, pay attention and I'll explain it so that even you can understand."

"OK, Abbotticus, I'm listening."

"Now, these days, since the fall of the Silver Masks, the Guards of Tharna have been using some pretty funny names. For instance, of the Tatrix's special Guard, the first Sergeant is 'Who'."

"How should I know? I want you to tell me what is the First Sergeant's name."

"No, 'What' is the Second Sergeant."

"I don't KNOW!"

"He's number three."

"How did we get to the third Sergeant??? I want to know who's the First Sergeant?"

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"He's the second Sergeant."

"WHAT is the second Sergeant?"

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I don't know!"

The two looked at each other. "Third Sergeant!" they said, simultaneously.

"So who got to the Tatrix first?"

"No, it was Kron"

"Kron was what?"

"Of course not..."

I decided that they were more confused than I'd ever be, unless they were in the beginning stages of becoming Larans. But, in all that malarky, I'd gleaned an important piece of knowledge: Kron and the Tatrix were still active sexually. That meant that she didn't use the City's Slicker to the exclusion of other delights.

I accosted the shorter, plump one, thinking I'd recognized him from back home. "Lucas?" I queried.

"Yes?" he said pleasantly, wondering what he could sell Me.

"Lucas-George?"

"No, he's busy with those Clone Wars. I'm Lucas Tello, of Turia, at your service."

"Tello?"

"Tello? Tello?" he said, "who's on the line?"

I looked at him. "Oh!" I exclaimed, "Be One--"

"Exactly," remarked the other merchant, wryly.

Tello then turned to Me. "My good man, We were discussing how best to achieve market dominance here. You look like an experienced sales person... which would you suggest, having the local Guards Force intimidate Cosians into lowering their prices, or attempt to corner the market on some product that the Cosians can't underprice?"

I looked at him. "Use the Force, Lucas..."

As I walked away from the market and towards the Tatrix' palace, I struggled to come up with a PLAN to get into the Tatrix' chambers

It was while passing a display of birds that I came up with the perfect disguise -- I, a Laran Inn Keeper, would enter the Palace as an Arran Lit-Keeper!

No one would EVER guess who I was, much less be able to pronounce it!

I purchaced a few of the stanky things, beautiful tropical birds prized for their bright plumage, but having an absolutely incredible reek, and a cage for them, and set off for the Palace.

I approached the Palace Guard, and the man looked at Me. "Hey, man, don't you know what a BATH is?"

"Well," I began to explain, "You see, I'm from Ar and I--"

The guard cut Me off. "Ok, that explains it."

"You may enter, but keep to the downwind side of the Hall." He looked at Me, and odd expression on His face. "How do those birds stand your stench?"

"Oh," I demurred, "it's an acquired taste."

I climbed what seemed to be an endless number of staircases, and arrived out of breath at the Head Chamberlain's desk on the top floor. I was still downwind from the Head Chamberlain, so he hadn't scented the birds' pungeant aroma. He gaped at Me, and exclaimed, "Wow! What a gorgeous set of lits!"

I blushed, and covered My chest... then realized what he had said. Clearing My throat and moving closer, I inquired as to the Tatrix' wherabouts. The Head Chamberalin began to turn a decided shade of green; apparently he'd noted the scent of the birds. Trying desperately to avoid breathing the atmosphere surrounding the lits, he mumbled something.

"Say what, My good Man? If you want to be a really Great Head Chamberlain, you'll have to speak louder."

He shot a dark, dour look at Me. "Uh uh, nothing doing, you're not gonna get off one of those terrible fellatic gags at My expense," he sniffed.

I looked back at him. "OK, Mr. Genius, what do you think this bird on the left is?"

He looked at it, and guessed, "Swallow?"

"If you want to..."

He screamed a blood-curdling yell, remiscent of a larl in heat, and leaped over the desk, arms outstretched, attacking Me in some mad paroxysm of rage.

I neatly side-stepped, and he sailed out of the open window behind Me, his terrified scream following him on his last trip to the courtyard.

"I hope she has a spare," I thought to Myself, as I helped Myself to the key to the Tatrix' private chambers. "Good help is so hard to find these days."

When I arrived at the ornate doors, however, I found them guarded by two extremely large, extremely well-armed, and extremely bad-tempered Men-at-Arms.

"What do YOU want, Swamp-breath," accosted one of the guards.

I tried to act Arran, nonchalant. "I, uh, have the Lady's lit order."

They looked at Me, they looked at the cages. "Lit?" the second one said, puzzled. "What's a lit?"

"Oh, you can look it up in GLUEDOG," I answered, groaning as I handed him a massive pack of scrolls weighing more than ten stones (about 40 Earth pounds).

"UH," said the Warrior as he strained to hold the ENORMOUS pack of scrolls, "but I can't read. I'm one of those slash-and-stab kind of guys."

"I see... dictionary-challenged, eh? Well, My good man, keep that promotional copy of GLUEDOG, maybe show it off to your other non-literate friends. In any case, the Tatrix has ordered these crested lits for her chambers, and I, an Arran Lit Keeper by trade, have come to fulfil her every desire."

The two guards immediately broke up in peals of hysterical laughter. I was suddenly very worried: someone was making jokes in this story that I hadn't written, and they were getting better laughs than Mine were!

"The Tatrix..." gasped one of the Guards, "has been doing just that for --" he released another burst of hilarity "-- over a month now, and that midgit Metalworker Kron isn't even in the palace!"

"Well..." I temporized, "I don't know anything about metalworkers' midgits --" This, of course, brought another round of hysterical laughter from the war-like guards. "-- but the Tatrix DID call for these birds."

They eyed the malodorous avians warily. "Well... whatever Lara wants, Lara gets..." one of them allowed, opening the ornate carved door for Me to enter.

"I'll just inform her Tatricity that the birds are here, and leave them with you. For safe keeping. Out here."

The other guard began to growl menacingly, but, setting the cage downwind from the door, I adroitly sidestepped his lance and entered the Tatrix' chamber, closing the door behind Me.

I entered the massive chamber and was awestruck at the richness of the silks, the muchly worked hangings, the brocaded wall panels. Too, I knew I could never adequately describe these private apartments with tapestries from the mills of Ar upon the walls, my sandals finding underfoot richly colored, deeply woven rugs from distant Tor*.

I heard a strange, almost plaintive moaning issuing from the long low curule couch against one of the walls. I approached, warily, and My breath caught in My throat to behold the lovely woman stretched out on the couch, her eyes closed in rapture, her dainty hands busy beneath her robes. Her eyes suddenly flew open, and she beheld Me... and gasped... and those lovely cerulean eyes grew wider, a pretty flush rose to her pure alabaster skin, as she began to writhe on the couch, enraptured in sheer ecstasy.

"Ohh... it's vibrating... OHHH!" she cried, and convulsed, once, twice, five times, arching her back, her entire body quaking in explosive sexual release. Continuing to convulse and shudder, she twisted her beautiful head back and forth, moaning, "vibrating... ohhhh, OHH!! OHHH!", countless climaxes ripping through her lucious body, until at long last she removed the humming stone phallus, redolant with her female juices, and lay back, spent, sated, then comatose.

She came to about a quarter of an Ahn later, a dreamy look in her eyes, a soft smile gracing her full lips. She spoke to Me, her voice soft, almost child-like, not at all recovered from the experience that I and the Home Stone of Lara had given her. "Who... who are you, and how did -- ohhh," she shuddered again, aftershock, a single small orgasm coursing through her abused but incredibly lovely body -- "how..."

"I am Oryx con Lara, My Lady Tatrix, MasterScribe of the Free and Anarchic city of Lara."

"You... Lara.. where we bought these... " she shuddered yet again... "phalli."

"Yes, My lovely Lady Lara," I said, for truly, Tarl Cabot's description of Lara, Tatrix of Tharna, doesn't approach the Lady's awesome beauty when enjoyed from a few hort away.

"My own was beautifully shaped, and so full and strong." She looked about. "But where is it?" She looked at Me in something akin to panic. "What have you done with it?" She moved to call the guards, but I restrained her in the only way man can truly restrain a woman.

After a while, I released her, letting us both breathe, and looked into her blue, blue eyes. "My Lady Lara, the Rod of Stimulation you were using is the True Home Stone of the City of Lara. If it becomes revealed that the Home Stone of a City is being used to rape the Tatrix of Tharna, even by her own lovely hand, the results could be disastrous. Would you still be Free, and Tatrix? Or would the City of Lara, having given you slave rape, now own you, and consequently, the entire city of Tharna and all the people in it?"

She started, startled, suddenly confronted with this horrifying turn of events. "I," she said, trying to gather her wits, "the Tatrix of Tharna, in thrall to a bunch of.. of..."

"Lunatics?" I supplied.

"Exactly."

"But," I said, looking at her.

She blushed prettily. "Are you just going to take advantage of a sweet innocent Tatrix?" she asked, batting her eyes.

"Not quite. I have an idea where we might both profit. You're still in contact with Korn, of the Metalworkers, yes?"

She laughed. "'Contact'... what a quaint way of putting it."

"Yes, well, that wasn't quite what I had in mind. I bet Kron could fashion you a replica of the Laran Lovestick out of gold or silver."

She pouted. "Yes, he could. But then it would be just 10 inches of cold metal. No vibrations."

"But, the Home Stone only vibrates when I hold it..." I looked at her, catching a particularly carniverous expression. "Hold it? HOLD IT!"

"Hmmmmm?" she purred, stroking My thigh.

"That's -- " I moaned a bit as she touched something else -- "uh... the point of having Kron do it... he can include a ... OHHHHH.. thingie that would make his replica SING!"

She looked at Me. "Yanno, Mapmaker, that just MIGHT work. But this 10 inch stuff has got to go. I want Mine," she said haughtily, "10 hort long."

Typical Tatrix, I thought.

"But, how were you thinking of escaping with it in the first place?" she asked Me.

"Well, if anyone asked, all I'd have to do is let them sniff the thing."

"I'd've said, 'With the leave of the Tatrix.'"

"And what would have prevented tracking sleens from scenting the same thing?"

I looked over at the birdcage, that one of the guards had thoughtfully slipped into the Chambers behind Me.

"I think THEY would mask the scent, even of the Tatrix of Tharna," I declared.

"But what," she slyly murmured, "is to prevenet Me from taking you as prisoner, and working you in the silver mines until you yield the Marvelous Member to Me?"

"Simple," I smiled. "While you were in subspace, I passed the Darling Dong to someone who's been in the pay of the Laran Secret Service for years. I made contact with him, and We exchanged recognition signals just before I entered Your chambers. By now, it's far away from these Chambers."

She looked at Me in shock. "The Laran Secret Service has penetrated the core of Tharna??"

"Well," I said simply, "if the Home Stone could, I suppose the rest of the Jolly Elves can also."

"WHO??? WHAT???" she exclaimed in horror.

Suddenly the guards burst into the room. "You called, My Lady Tatrix?" they asked.

"Oh... ahh.. no.. just... um..." she dissembled, "I, ah, think I'm going to want some company later. 'What', is it your turn?"

"No, My lady. Who's on First..."

So Kron fashioned a ten-hort replica of the Laran Home Stone out of metal, and then both Lara and Lara had their own johnsons. Hers wasn't GOREAN standard, but Lara (the Tatrix) didn't mind at all.

It was a relatively uneventful trip back to Lara. As I walked beside the tharlarions, I was glad I had a travelling companion to talk to.

"So you decided to return to Lara," I asked the ex-Chamberlain, no longer Head anything.

"I sort of had to. After receiving the Home Stone from you, I had to bribe My way out of the Castle. My cover was.. um.. blown, so to speak."

I looked at him. "Quite."

"But you were right, Oryx, as usual," he said.

"How's that?"

"I do give Great Head."

"But do you swallow?"

He smiled at Me enigmatically.

I entered tLi that evening, exhausted, after almost two months in the field. After restoring the Famous Phallus to its comfy nest in some obscure location, all I wanted to do was relax, sip some Ale, and work on My memoirs and the GLUEDOG.

It was quiet in the Inn, no guests, even Shrek Our watch-sleen was asleep. I spied a soft movement, and saw My kajira adjust herself on My furs as I came in. She looked at Me with sultry, dark-blue eyes, her slavebelly clearly smouldering for Me. Purring, she tossed her head, sending mounds of rich dark curls adrift over a soft pale shoulder.

And with a voice that could melt even an Initiate's heart, she murmured, "Is that a Home Stone in Your pocket, sexy Master, or are you just glad to see this one?"

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