Kajira of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "No, Master," I said, miserably.

  "Very well," he said and, chuckling, left.

  I shook the chains in frustration. He seemed to be a very kind man. If I had not tried to be so clever, if I had not tried to trick him, he probably would have read the legend for me.

  I watched him walking off.

  He had not seemed eager, even desperate to please me, in spite of the fact that I was naked. I then realized, with a strange feeling deep within me, something akin to fear and excitement, that on this world it was the naked women, or scantily clad women, women who would be slaves, or would be presumed to be slaves, women such as I, who must serve and please the men. This was not Earth; it was Gor.

  "Oh, Lady!" I called. "Please, Lady!"

  The slave, alone, in the brief, sleeveless red tunic, with sides split to the waist, turned, to see whom I might be addressing.

  "Lady!" I called to her.

  "I am not a lady," she said. "I am a slave."

  "Please," I said. "Can you read the legend posted over my head?"

  "Cannot you read?" she asked.

  "No," I said. I looked at her. She was nicely curved, with brown hair and eyes. She wore a close-fitting steel collar.

  "I am sorry," she said. "I cannot either. I was never taught." She then sped on her way.

  "What is going on?" asked the Archon's man.

  "Nothing, Master," I said.

  "If you delay slaves in their errands, and they are late," he said, "they might be whipped."

  "I am sorry, Master," I said.

  "Why did you delay her?" he asked.

  "I wanted her to read the sign posted over my head," I said.

  "Why didn't you ask me?" he asked.

  "I was afraid," I said. "You did not read it to me. I thought then perhaps you did not want me to know what it said."

  "And, without determining whether that was true or not," he said, "you nonetheless sought, perhaps thereby circumventing my will, to determine its contents?"

  "Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master!"

  "You should be whipped," he said. He unclipped the coiled slave whip from his belt.

  "I am a free woman!" I told him.

  "You have a slave's body," he said.

  "Even so, I am a free woman," I said.

  "Perhaps you are a free woman," he said. "It is hard to imagine a slave being so stupid."

  "Do not whip me," I begged.

  I saw him recoiling the blades of the whip. I viewed this action with unspeakable relief.

  He then thrust it before my face. "Lick it, and kiss it," he said.

  "Please," I begged.

  "You will do so now," he said, "or after you have been beaten with it."

  I then reached my head forward and, delicately, licked and kissed the whip. He then replaced the stern, supple disciplinary device on his belt.

  "Master," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Why did you not tell me what the sign said?" I asked.

  "I showed it to you," he said. "It did not occur to me that you could not read."

  "But I cannot," I said. "Please tell me what it says!"

  "Not now, pretty Lita," he said. "Not now." He then walked away. I stomped with my right foot. I shook the chains, angrily. Tears came to my eyes. I was being frustrated, as though I might be a slave.

  * * * *

  The afternoon wore on.

  My body and arms began to ache miserably.

  From time to time one man or another in the crowd would pause to gaze on me. I usually looked away from them, but, even so, it seemed I could sometimes sense their eyes on me, roving me with impunity. I, chained as I was, was as exposed to their gaze as might have been any stripped slave. Sometimes they would come up to the platform, to examine me more closely. The Archon's man, however, would not permit them to touch my body or test my slave reflexes. Similarly, I was not required to respond to certain sorts of commands, for example, to make "slave lips," pursing my lips for kissing, or to writhe slowly before my viewers. It was still regarded as a theoretical possibility, I gathered, that I might be free. "She is not for sale," the Archon's man told one fellow. "Too bad," had said the fellow. "Not now," had added the Archon's man. "Perhaps later," said the fellow. "Perhaps," had agreed the Archon's man.

  It was late in the afternoon when, suddenly, my body stiffened in terror. I put my head down, swiftly, trembling. I wanted to hide but, of course, I was held perfectly where I was, exposed, helpless in the shackles.

  He must not have seen me! He must not have seen me!

  I turned away a little, in the chains, as though merely to change my position.

  My heart was pounding in terror.

  He, of all people!

  Surely he had not noticed me. Surely he had not seen me. He must not have seen me!

  "Let the churl be stripped," I had said, imperiously, "and a sign be put about his neck, proclaiming him a fraud. Then let him be marched naked, before the spears of guards, through the great gate of Corcyrus, not to be permitted to return before the second passage hand!"

  But I could not run now. I, helpless, naked, chained in place, was being publicly displayed.

  A Corcyran merchant had brought charges against him, a matter having to do with a bowl, purportedly silver, but only plated, and one bearing a forged mark, misrepresenting it as the work of the silversmiths of Ar.

  Surely he must now have passed by.

  Further inquiries had been made and it was found that he had among his goods a set of false weights.

  He must now have gone. He must!

  Too, it had been discovered that he had sold slave hair to the public, representing it as that of free women.

  I was safe. He must have gone by now.

  How pleased I was to have sentenced him to his humiliation, pronouncing the judgment of the Tatrix against him! How pleased I was to have seen him dragged by guards from my august presence. How splendid, too, to have men serving one, obeying one, in this fashion! He had been an itinerant peddler, an obsequious, cringing, ugly, small, vile man with a twisted body. Surely he was one of the most detestable human beings I had ever seen.

  I stiffened, again, in terror. Someone had joined me on the cement platform. I kept my head down. Then, as had happened two or three times before, I felt a thumb under my chin. My head was pushed up.

  I found myself looking into the eyes of the peddler, Speusippus of Turia.

  18

  The Leash

  Speusippus stepped back and regarded me. I kept my head up, looking at him.

  He glanced up at the sign over my head. He could doubtless read it.

  He then looked me over possessively, and slowly and with pleasure. He began to rub his hands together.

  "Sir?" I asked.

  "Sir!" he laughed. "It is now 'Sir,' is it? 'Sir' for Speusippus. Excellent!"

  I moved in the shackles. I felt so helpless!

  "It seems that our fortunes have changed somewhat," he said. "Excellent."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "How did you get here, so far away?" he asked. "How did this delightful shift in your circumstances come about?"

  "I do not know what you are talking about," I said. "I do not know you. I have never seen you before in my life."

  "Now it is you who are naked and helpless," he said. "Splendid!"

  "I think you have me confused with someone else, Sir," I said. "I have never seen you before in my life."

  I then shrank back. He stood quite close to me. I felt his breath on my cheek.

  "I am not stupid," he whispered. "Do not play games with me."

  "Sir?" I asked.

  "I know who you are," he said.

  "Who?" I asked.

  "Sheila," said he, whispering in my ear. "You are Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus!"

  "No," I whispered. "No!"

  "The office of the Archon will doubtless be pleased to learn the identity of its lovely prisoner," he said.

  "Th
ey will not believe it," I said.

  "They will conduct inquiries," he said, "with rather clear consequences, I think, for yourself."

  "Do not tell them, I beg you," I said. "They will take me back to Argentum for impalement!"

  He smiled.

  "Please, do not tell them, Speusippus," I begged.

  "'Sir'?" he asked.

  "Please, do not tell them, Sir," I begged.

  "It is pleasant for one such as I to be called 'Sir' by the Tatrix of Corcyrus," he said.

  "Please do not tell them," I begged, "—Sir!"

  "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked.

  "The Lady Lita, of Lydius," I said.

  "'Lita'?" he grinned. "That is a splendid name for you. Excellent."

  I trembled. That name, especially when not prefixed by 'Lady', I felt, somehow, did seem to have a certain rightness for me. I wondered if, in some sense, I was a "Lita," or, say, a "Tuka," or a "Lana," other common names for slaves on Gor. Earth-girl names, too, incidentally, are commonly used as slave names on Gor, such as Jean, Joan, Priscilla, Sally, Deborah, Lois, Sandra and Stacey. At any rate the name did make me feel slightly uneasy, and excited, and rather like a slave. This was perhaps a function of its simplicity, loveliness and femininity. I hardly dared speculate what I might feel like if it were actually put upon me and I were then to discover that, by a master's will, I had become "Lita." The name was originally given to me, I recalled, by Drusus Rencius, put upon me as a part of my disguise, and for the purposes of my licensing, in the house of Kliomenes. I felt momentarily angry. The beast must have known that it was a common slave name.

  "Where were you caught?" he asked.

  "North of Venna," I said, "on the Viktel Aria."

  "Well," said Speusippus, "I think I will now call the Archon's man and tell him who you are."

  "Please, do not, Sir," I begged.

  "And if I do not," asked Speusippus, "what will you do?"

  "Anything," I whispered.

  "Anything?" he asked, smiling.

  "Anything!" I whispered.

  "You may now begin to call me 'Master,'" he said.

  "'Master'?" I asked, in horror.

  "Yes," he said. "It will be useful in your disguise."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "You will be a free woman," he said. "I would have it no other way. But your disguise will be quite thorough."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "It will be delicious," he said, "having the Tatrix of Corcyrus, a free woman, serve me as though she might be a mere slave, and with the full offices and services of the slave."

  "Do not so shame me," I said. "If you must, simply enslave me."

  "No," he said. "It is as a free woman that you will so serve me."

  "Never as a free woman!" I said.

  "Very well," he said. "I shall now call the Archon's man."

  "No," I said. "No."

  "Does Lady Sheila accept my terms?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Yes, what?" he asked.

  "Yes—Master," I sobbed.

  "I see you have caught her," Speusippus called to the Archon's man. "Good work!"

  "Do you know her?" asked the man, coming over to the platform.

  "Yes," said Speusippus. "She ran away a few days ago."

  "Who owns her?" asked the Archon's man.

  "I do," said Speusippus. "She is mine."

  "What is her name?" asked the Archon's man.

  "Lita," said Speusippus.

  "It is not improbable that that is her name," said the Archon's man. "She was using it."

  "That was foolish, wasn't it, Lita?" asked Speusippus.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Where did you lose her?" asked the Archon's man.

  "North, on the great road," said Speusippus.

  "That is where she was caught," said the Archon's man. "She is apparently yours. Do you have papers on her?"

  "No," said Speusippus.

  "Do you have friends who can vouch for you, that she is yours?"

  "I am from Turia," said Speusippus. "I am a stranger in this beautiful city."

  "Things, then, are not so simple," said the Archon's man. "As you can see she is not even collared or branded. She is claiming to be a free woman."

  "No, Master," I said.

  "Perhaps I could hold her for ten days," said the Archon's man, "and then, if there are no other claimants, turn her over to you." He looked at me. "What did you say?" he asked.

  "I am not a free woman, Master," I said. "I am a slave."

  "There are still problems," said the Archon's man. "She will deny that she is your slave."

  "No, Master," I said. "I am his." I almost choked on the words. Too, the words themselves frightened me, terribly. I knew that I was lying, of course, but still they frightened me. How fearful it would be, I thought, to say such words and know that they were true, that one did belong, fully, to a man.

  "Do you admit that you are his slave?" the Archon's man asked me. "Do you acknowledge that, and freely, and not under torture?"

  "Yes, Master," I said. "I am his slave."

  "Then you were lying to us before," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  He unclipped the whip from his belt.

  "No, no," smiled Speusippus. "That will not be necessary. I am sure that little Lita has learned her lesson. Haven't you, Lita?"

  "Yes, Master," I said. I twisted in the chains, making sure that the Archon's man had returned the whip to his belt. He had done so, I noted with relief.

  "You have not even had her branded and collared," said the Archon's man. "If I were you I would see to these details promptly. If she escapes from you again, you might not recover her so easily. Someone else, having her properly marked and collared, might decide to keep her."

  "I shall take all of these matters under the most serious consideration," said Speusippus, nodding soberly.

  I smiled to myself. I saw that Speusippus had no intention of doing anything so cruel as putting a brand on me or anything as degrading as putting my neck in a collar. Too, he had not let the Archon's man whip me. I saw that Speusippus would treat me with lenience, kindness and deference. I saw that I had nothing to fear from Speusippus. After all, I was a free woman, and the Tatrix of Corcyrus.

  "Thank you, Master," I said, in relief, to the Archon's man, as he released my wrists from the shackles. It felt so good to put my arms down. I almost fell on the platform.

  "Poor little Lita," said Speusippus, sympathetically. He patted me, tenderly, on the shoulder. "This has been such a terrible experience for you. But do not worry now, little Lita. It is over. I will take you away with me now."

  "Thank you, Master," I whimpered, playing my role.

  But then I felt my hands tied behind my back, with a wire-cored cord. I was tied, and well.

  Then I was leashed like a dog, or less than a dog. It was a slave leash. I was leashed like a slave.

  "May I reimburse you for her keep?" inquired Speusippus.

  "No," said the Archon's man. "Such services are furnished by the city."

  "Splendid," said Speusippus. "Come along, Lita." I felt the tug of the leash. I was leashed!

  "Do not spoil her," cautioned the Archon's man.

  "We would not want to spoil you now, would we, Lita?" asked Speusippus.

  "No, Master," I whispered. I shuddered. Gorean slaves, I suspected, were seldom in any danger of being spoiled. They were commonly held under disciplines of iron.

  I followed Speusippus down from the platform. I did not want the leash to be pulled taut.

  "Master," I said.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "Can you read the sign that was posted over my head, please?"

  "Yes," said he. "It says, 'Who owns this slave? Who can identify her?'"

  "That is all?" I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," I said. For so little I had been struck by the free woman, and tricked a
nd frustrated in the chains!

  He pulled me closer to him by the leash. I did not want to stand so close to him.

  On the sign, it seemed, it had been presupposed that I was a slave. To be sure, Gorean men tended to look upon me, it seemed, as though I belonged in that degraded category, or as though it might, in fact, be mine.

  "Have no fear," grinned Speusippus. "They are well satisfied. From their point of view the slave has been identified and her owner has been located. Indeed, he has even come and claimed her."

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  He then took up the slack in the leash until he held me, by the leash, but inches from him.

  "I, Speusippus," he said, whispering intimately to me, "have the Tatrix of Corcyrus naked and on a slave leash."

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Say that word again," he whispered, "and more slowly, pronouncedly and beautifully."

  I regarded him, with misery.

  "Do so," he said.

  "Please," I begged.

  "Must a command be repeated?" he inquired. It was a question such as might have been posed to a slave.

  I stood before him, my hands bound behind my back, my neck in his leash.

  I trembled. I was utterly helpless. He could do with me what he wished.

  "It seems you must be turned over to the Archon's man," he said.

  "Please, no," I said.

  "Oh?" he said.

  "No," I whispered. "Please, no!"

  I shook my head negatively, desperately, piteously. I could feel the leather of the leash collar close on my neck as I did so.

  I was but inches from him, the leash taut between the collar ring and his fist.

  I wondered if it was like this to be a slave, to be so much in the power of men.

  But I reminded myself that I was free.

  Yet, was I not in his power, as much as might have been a slave?

  I thought of myself momentarily as a slave, obliged to obedience, subject to sale, owned, collared, and became almost giddy with the thought.

  The thought so overwhelmed me that I feared I might faint.

  It was an outrageous, intolerable, insupportable thought!

  And yet one that exercised over my mind and body a peculiar fascination.

  It was one which had intrigued me, for years, even on Earth. What would it have been like, I had wondered, to feel ropes on my body, a collar on my neck, the strong, commanding, possessive hands of a ruthless master exploring, me, caressing me as he pleased, owning, me.