A former military contractor of Earth wakes up as a slave girl in a distant land.

A pastiche of the Gor inspired Zhor stories of which the finest exemplars are Aardvark's The Warrior From Batuk and some short stories by Christopher Leeson. Except I didn't want to deal with all the exotic terminology and tinkered with many of the properties of the serum as well as the world at large.

[Scribe's Note: Transcribed with permission from the Journal of the Lady Zhou Yu]

Chapter 1 Kidnapped

Dear Reader,

As I write this, it has been three years since I was taken from Ki [Earth] to this land which I now call home.

It is evening here in the capital city of Thamud and the palace grounds are covered with that warm autumnal glow which everyone adores. I have asked the grounds men to keep the leaves this way for just another day. Even from the height of the women's quarters of the palace, I can still hear the sounds of the crowds from the souk: the touts announcing offerings from distant lands; the low rumble of the swarm of hagglers who always appear towards the close of the day; and the occasional exclamations of outrage. The faint smell of smoke and roasted poultry wafts into my room with each strong gust of the evening wind.

It would never cross your mind if considering this scene that barely [200 kilometers] away, a battle now rages and men are dying in the most brutal fashion imaginable. They say that the killing will be over before the winter is upon us.

It is a battle which I have done everything in my power to ensure is settled in my city's favor. Yet, I have been told in no uncertain terms that I should take no part in it. I admit that this still fills me with a modicum of irritation but I have come to accept my place in the scheme of things.

Instead, I have been told to practice my vernacular Thamudi by writing this account of my experiences – primarily as an entertainment for my beloved, but also for the edification of any of my fellow sisters who might find themselves in my position.

The closest thing to my previous vocation in the language of my adopted land would be that of a mercenary. Before that, I was a soldier serving in the army of a country which bears many similarities to the Kingdom of Qin which lies to the West of Thamud. In other words, I drew profit from the skillful application of violence.

Thinking back to the day I was taken, it seems clear that we had little chance the moment we accepted payment to travel to a neighboring country for what seemed a simple assignment. The fee was slightly over the market rate to ensure our interest, and transport from our port of arrival completely under the purview of the local contact. Our greed was our undoing as was our over confidence.

The only thing that saved me at least temporarily was the mask which I - in my usual paranoia - had carried in my hand luggage. It was only of marginal use against the toxin which the malefactors pumped into the van ten minutes into our trip, but it was enough to keep me drowsy but awake till the time they opened the back door of the armored transport at our destination. I killed two of them with my bare hands before a group of six rushed me and put me down. Before I blacked out, I saw them casually dispatching some of my friends with projectiles aimed directly at their heads.

When I next awoke, it was in the back of a covered wooden cart and draped with heavy sackcloth. My hands had been carelessly tied behind me with thin rope, and my legs strung together to my hands; but I was not chained to any object.

Beside me were two women, both white; one blonde and the other a brunette. I could not rouse either of them despite my best efforts. I assumed that they had been drugged just as I had been. It took all my self-control not to panic even as I attempted to cut myself free using the sharp metal joinery of the wooden transport.

You see, I was completely naked and could tell immediately what they had done to me. Where once I stood quite tall, I was now much reduced. I had wasted away with barely an ounce of muscle on me or so it seemed to me. I must have weighed no more than an average market lamb. And I was a woman.

Perhaps I have not made myself entirely clear up to this point, or perhaps you have already assumed with respect to my profession that I was once a man. It has only been three years, but my memories of my old body seem like fragments from a previous life; like a missing appendage which I sometimes recall in restless dreams. My movement and my moods have changed so much that I cannot recall what I was like before – it would be like remembering every instance of my life as a young child.

My lack of strength put me at a severe disadvantage which I could not take for granted. I knew could use neither throws nor choke holds; even the idea of breaking one of their major joints or bones would be difficult if I was barehanded. The two men guiding the transport - our captors - had to be incapacitated swiftly and decisively using the element of surprise. My chance would come that evening when they stopped to encamp. I covered myself with the sackcloth and waited.

With the fading light, the cart reached its destination in what I assumed was the center of a small but busy city; the waxing and waning sounds from the exterior being my only clue as to this. I prepared myself as they opened the back of the cart. As the first man reached out to check my body, I kicked him hard in the throat with the heel of my foot. He fell back choking and would not get back up. I expect that he asphyxiated within moments. As the second man rushed to his aid, I jumped from the cart, and struck him hard on the skull with my knee. When he collapsed on to the ground, I kicked him hard across the face to immobilize him, then crushed his head repeatedly on the cobblestones.

I stripped him for clothes and made to escape. I could do nothing for my two fellow captives who remained asleep throughout this, and had no choice but to leave them behind. In the meantime, I unhitched the old nag which had been pulling us through the day and prepared to ride out of the dank alley I had found myself in.

My travels since then have informed me that this was the border town of Aix – the gateway to the Kingdom of Albion - a den of tradesman and smugglers where women such as myself were considered livestock or obedient wives, though only a truly foolish man would ever bring his partner to Aix.

I had been too clumsy in my new body; mercilessly violent but insufficiently silent. The exit to the alleyway was blocked by the time I was ready, ending my last chance of a clean escape. My only choice was to charge them which I did, sending two of them flying. But the nag didn't have it in him and reared up and collapsed in pain soon after. I barely escaped being crushed and was soon pressed face down into the dirt by four men, at least two with knees on my back.

I had lost and prepared myself to suffer the consequences.

In my past life, women served with men on the frontlines of our wars. Most of them from a distance, raining down death from the skies. Those who wished to exchange blows with men face to face were prepared to accept the hard reality of their choice. They had to be prepared to be treated in every way worse than then a male captive of equal position. I was now that woman captive.

There was a heated exchange of unintelligible words behind me. I imagined that some of them wanted to kill me; after all I had taken two of their own and disabled many others. That would have been merciful and just at least. The men soon came to a compromise with a tall man who seemed the leader of the group. But this only after a lengthy harangue after which the group seemed thoroughly cowed if not embarrassed. I knew this did not bode well for me.

I was released like a deadly reptile and then kicked against the wall. I was so small and light that that this simple kick felt like a tremendous force.

“Get up!” their leader demanded in one of the major tongues of Ki. These were the first intelligible words I had heard since my abduction.

There were ten of them, and they took turns beating me savagely only taking care not to strike my face or to break any bones. My mind was still my own but my body was not what it was; not the hardened shell I had built up over the years back on Ki but something altogether weaker. My soft skin would be covered in bruises for the next two weeks. Mine was not a body naturally made to withstand violence.

In the years since then, I have come to realize that no amount of physical activity would allow me to put on muscle beyond a certain point. I was tall for a woman but my strength would always put me at a disadvantage in a fight against men. I have learned to compensate for this with a combination of speed, dexterity, and lethal implements; as ever seasoning my body against pain.

I was fortunate that they did not see me as a woman at that time but as a feral beast that needed taming. They had no interest in my sexual availability, only in revenge and humiliation. I did manage to break the wrists and fingers of at least two of my tormentors before one of them started choking me from behind and I lost consciousness.