excellent figure for slave dance.
“Clear the circle!†called a fellow.
The other dancers hurried to the side, to sit and kneel, and watch.
I considered the slave. She was beautiful and well curved.
Teibar gestured to the circle.
“Ahh!†said men.
“She moves like a dancer,†I said.
“She is a dancer,†said the fellow.
I considered the girl. She now stood in the circle, relaxed, yet supple and
vital, her wrists, back to back, over her head, her knees flexed.
“She is a bred passion slave,†I said, “with papers and a lineage going back a
thousand years.â€
“No,†said a man.
“Where did he pick her up,†I asked, “at the Curulean?â€
“I do not know,†said a fellow.
I supposed she was perhaps a capture. I did not know if a fellow such as this
Teibar, who did not seem of the merchants, or rich, could have afforded a slave
of such obvious value. A fellow, for example, who cannot afford a certain kaiila
might be able to capture it, and then, once he had his rope on its neck, and
manages to make away with it, it is his mount.
“Aii!†cried a fellow.
“Aii!†said I, too.
Dancing was the slave!
“She is surely a bred passion slave,†I said. “Surely the blood lines of such an
animal go back a thousand years!â€
“No! No!†said a man, rapt, not taking his eyes from the slave.
I regarded her, in awe.
“She is trained, of course,†said a man.
Only too obviously was this a trained dancer, and yet, too, there was far more
than training involved. Too, I speak not of such relatively insignificant
matters as the mere excellence of her figure for slave dance, as suitable and
fitting as it might be for such an art form, for women with many figures can be
superb in slave dance, or that she must possess a great natural talent for such
a mode of expression, but something much deeper. In the nature of her dance I
saw more than training, her figure, and her talent. Within this woman, revealing
itself in the dance, in its rhythm, its joy, its spontaneity, its wonders, were
untold depths of femaleness, a deep and radical femininity, (pg. 54) unabashed
and unapologetic, a rejoicing in her sex, a respect of it, a love of it, an
acceptance of it and a celebration of it, a wanting of it, and of what she was,
a woman, a slave, in all of its marvelousness.
“Tuka, Tuka!†called men.
Men clapped their hands.
The slave danced.
Much it seemed to me, though there might be two hundred men about the circle,
she danced for her master.
Once he even indicated that she should move more about which, instantly,
commanded, she did.
“Tuka, Tuka!†even more called some of the other slaves about the edges of the
circle, sitting and kneeling there, unable to take their eyes from her,
clapping, too. Teibar’s Tuka, it seemed, was popular even with the other slaves,
of which she was such a superb specimen.
I watched her moving about the circle.
“Aii!†cried men, as she would pause a moment to dance before them. I had little
doubt she might once have been a tavern dancer. Such dancers must present
themselves in such a fashion before customers. This gives the customer an
opportunity to assess them, and to keep them in mind, if he wishes, for later
use in an alcove.
“Aii,†cried another fellow.
I speculated that she would not have languished for attention in the alcoves.
“She is superb,†said the fellow next to me.
“Yes,†I said.
She was working her way about the circle.
It was interesting to me that a master would dare to display such a slave
publicly. I gathered that he was quite confident of his capacity to keep her. He
must then, I suspected, be excellent with the sword.
“Ah,†said the fellow next to me.
The dancer approached.
How marvelous are the Gorean women, I thought. And I thought then, too, sadly,
of the women of Earth, so many of them so confused, so miserable, so unhappy,
women not knowing what they were, or what they might be, women trapped in a maze
of ultimately barren artifices, women subjected to inconsistent directives and
standards, women subjected to social coercions, women subjected to
antibiological constraints, women forced to deny themselves and their depth
natures in the name of freedom, women trying to be men, not knowing how to be
women, women torturing themselves and others with their confusions, (pg. 55)
their inhibitions, their pain, their frustrations. But I did not blame them for
they were the victims of pathological conditioning programs. Any beautiful
natural creature can be clipped and then instructed to rejoice in it mutilations
and mishapeness. It was little wonder that so many of the women of Earth were so
inhibited, so frigid, so inert, so anesthetic. That so many of them could even
feel their pain was, I supposed, a hopeful sign. If their culture was correct,
or judicious, why did it contain so much unhappiness and pain? In a body, pain
is an indication that something is wrong. So, too, it is in a culture.
Then the dancer was before me, and I was awed with beauty.
I kept her there before me for a moment, not letting her move away, my gaze
holding her.
I wept then for the men of Earth, that they could not know such beauties. How
utterly marvelous are the Gorean females! How utterly different they are from
the women of Earth! How impossible it would be for a female of Earth to match
them!
I watched the dancer then move to the next fellow, and turn about.
Suddenly I was stunned. High on her left arm there was a small, circular scar.
It was not, surely, in that place, and given its nature, the result of a marking
iron. Indeed, it is by means of such tiny indications, fillings in the teeth,
and such, that a certain sort of girl, for which there is a market on Gor, is
often recognized.
She is not from Gor!†I said.
“She is from far away,†said the fellow next to me.
“From a distant land,†said another.
“Called “earth,â€â€ said another.
“Yes,†I said.
“They make excellent slaves,†said another. I wondered if this might not be
true. The Earth female, starved for sexual fulfillment, suddenly plunged into
the gorgeous world of Gor, subject to masculine pleasure, taught obedience, and
such, might well, I supposed, after a period of adjustment and accommodation,
rejoice in self-discovery, in her true liberation, in her finding herself at
last in her place in nature, the beautiful and desirable slave of strong and
uncompromising masters.
“I think we should send an army there and bring them all back in chains,†said
another.
“That is where they belong,†said another.
“Yes,†said another.
&
nbsp; The mark on the girl’s arm had not been the result of the imprint of a master’s
iron. It had been a vaccination mark. I (pg. 56) had noted, too, interestingly,
just before she had whirled away, that she was shy. I assessed her as being
quite intelligent, extremely sensitive, and an excellent slave.
She had now, as the music swirled to its finish, returned to move before her
master. Then, the dance ended, men striking their left shoulders in Gorean
applause, shouting their vociferous approval, some armed warriors striking their
shields with spear blades, she sank to the ground, on her back, breathless,
breasts heaving, covered with a sheen of sweat, before her master, her left knee
raised, her head turned toward him, the palms of her hands, at her sides,
vulnerably exposed.
She had been superb. My shoulder was sore where I had much struck it.
Then with a sensuous, fluid movement she rose to her knees before her master.
She spread her knees, widely. She regarded him, beggingly. The dance had much
aroused her, and she was totally his, completely at his will, his pleasure and
mercy.
“Our gratitude, Teibar!†called a fellow.
“Hail, Teibar!†called another.
He called Teibar then waved to the men about, and turning about, took his way
from the area of the circle. The slave rose to her feet and hurried after him,
to heel him. more than one man touched her, and as a slave may be touched, as
she moved through them, hurrying to catch up with her master. To even these
touches I could see her respond, even in her flight. I saw that she was a hot
slave, and one, who would be, whether she wished it or not, uncontrollable,
helplessly responsive, in a man’s arms. Then she was with her master, seeming to
heel him, but yet so close to him that she touched him, brushing against him. I
had little doubt that she would soon be lengthily used, ravished with all the
attention, detail and patience with which Gorean masters are wont to exploit
their helpless chattels.
After the dance of Tuka, men and slaves departed from the circle, many doubtless
to hurry to their blankets and tents. I, too, thought I had taken comfort
earlier with the blond mat girl, was uncomfortable.
“Use me, Master?†said a coin girl.
I looked down at her, a small brunet, half naked in a ta-teera, a slave rag.
About her neck, over her collar, close about it, was a chain collar, padlocked
shut, with its coin box, and slot.
“Master?†she smiled.
I was angry. She had doubtless come to a circle, knowing that fellows in need,
ones without slaves, such as I, might be found there. Her attitude seemed to me
insufficiently respectful. She was not even kneeling.
(pg. 57) “Oh!†she cried, spinning to the side, cuffed.
I snapped my fingers. “There,†I said, pointing, indicating a place before me,
“kneel there, facing away from me.†Swiftly she crawled to the place, obeying.
“On your belly,†I snapped. Swiftly did she fling herself, a slave who might
have been displeasing, in terror, to her belly. I seized her ankles and parted
them, widely, pulling her toward me. “Perhaps you deserve a full lashing,†I
said. “No, please, Master!†she wept. “How much are you?†I asked. “Only a tarsk
bit, Master!†she wept. I considered the matter. I could afford that. I dragged
her back to me. She gasped, mine. “Oh!†she cried. “Oh! Oh!†Then I thrust her
from me, and stood. She was then on her side, looking back at me. She was
grasping. I kicked her, angrily, with the side of my foot. She winced. “Forgive
me, Master,†she wept. “I beg forgiveness!†“Perhaps you will learn manners,†I
said. “Yes, Master,†she said. “Perhaps you will know enough next time to be
respectful, and to kneel before men,†I said. Yes, Master,†she said. “Forgive
me, Master!†I looked down upon her angrily. I think she feared she might be
again cuffed, or kicked. Then she crawled to my feet, and kissed them. Then she
looked up at me. “Buy me, “she begged, suddenly. “It is to a man such as you
that I wish to belong!†I dragged her to her knees by the hair and, she sobbing,
trying to hold me, thrust a coin, a tarsk bit into the coin box. I then thrust
her back to the dirt, on her side, and, turning about, angrily, left her.
“Master!†she called after me. “Please, Master!†In a time I turned back to
regard her. She was where I had left her, except that she was now kneeling. Her
shoulders shook with sobs. She had the coin box, on its chain, lifted in her
hands. Her head was down, and her hair fell about the coin box. She pressed her
lips to it, again and again, sobbing. I did not think that she was a poor slave.
I think rather that she merely needed a strong master.
“Well done,†said a fellow, passing me.
I looked back at the girl again. She did have pretty thighs, well revealed in
the ta-teera. But then I steeled myself against softness, and reminded myself
that this was no time to acquire a bond maid, even one with a lovely little
figure and pretty thighs, one who was now clearly ready to obey instantly, and
with perfection.
I looked to the lofty walls of Ar. Within them lay what danger, what treachery,
what intrigue I dared not guess.
“Oh!†said a slave, slapped below the small of the back by a peasant.
“She is in the iron belt,†said the fellow, looking at me, grinning.
(pg. 58) The girl hurried on.
“Perhaps it is just as well,†I said.
He laughed.
She looked well in the tunic.
I passed a couple, the master enjoying his slave.
I looked up at the moons of Gor. They have, it seems, an unusual effect on
women. Sometimes female slaves, or captured free women, are chained beneath
them. I do not know the nature of this effect. Perhaps it is merely aesthetic,
for surely the moons are very beautiful. On the other hand the logical approach
the moons may have a profound subconscious symbolism, in its waxings and
wanings, clearly suggestive of feminine sexual cycles. But even more
interestingly the effect on the female is possibly biological. There are many
biological vestiges in the human being. One which is typical and interesting is
the tendency of the skin to erupt in tiny protuberances, “goose bumps,†when it
is cold. This response presumably harkens back to a time when the human animal,
or its forebear, had a great deal more hair from the flesh, thusly forming an
insulating layer against the cold. So, too, the sight of the moons, and their
rhythms, and such, so interestingly approximating the periods of feminine sexual
cycles, may at one time have played a role in mating cycles. Perhaps the female
came out into the moonlight, in her need, where she might be located and
appraised, thought not in the harsh light of day. Perhaps in the moonlight, away
from darkness, with its dangers of predators and such, she cried out, or moaned,
her needs, attem
pting to attract attention to herself, calling for the
attentions of the male. Perhaps those which would seek to mate in the fullness
of light distracted the group from feeding, or were too much fought over.
Perhaps those who sought the darkness were not as easily found or succumbed to
predators. Perhaps, in time, as a matter of natural selections, operative upon a
relatively, at that time, helpless species, those tended to survive whose mating
impulses became synchronized with the moons. This might explain why, even today,
and doubtless numerous genetic codings later, codings obviously favoring
frequent and aperiodic sexuality, some women are, so to speak, in addition,
still “called by the moon.†It would be a vestige, like the rising of hair on
“goose bumps.†Aside from this, it might be noted, of course, that the sexual
cycle of various species do tend to be correlated with the cycles of the moon,
presumably through one natural (pg. 59) selection or another. The Kurii, for
example, seem to have retained some vestiges along these lines, for in that
species, as I understand it, it is not unusual for females to go to the mating
cliffs in the moonlight, where, helpless in their sexuality, they cry out, or
howl, their needs.
I passed a few fellows playing dice. There are many forms of dice games on Gor,
usually played with anywhere from a single die to five dice. The major
difference, I think, between the dice of Earth and those of Gor is that the
Gorean dice usually have their numbers, or letters, or whatever pictures or
devices are used, painted on their surfaces. It is difficult to manufacture a
pair of dice, of course, in which the “numbers,†tow, three and so on, are
represented by scooped out indentations. For example, the “one†side of a die is
likely to have less scooped-out material missing than the “six†side of a die.
Thus the “one†side is slightly heavier and, in normal play, should tend to land
face down more often than, say the ‘six†side, this bringing up the opposite
side, the “six†side in Earth dice, somewhat more frequently. To be sure, the
differences in weight are slight and, given the forces on the dice, the
differential is not dramatic. And, of course, this differential can be
Norman, John - Gor 25 - Magicians of Gor.txt Page 8