Witness of Gor

by John Norman

  "Now," said he, "face me, again."

  She complied.

  He then approached her and reached to the veil.

  "It is your face now," said he, "the utmost delicacy, and least expression, of your features, which are to be exposed."

  She did not pull back.

  "Perhaps you do not understand," he said. "Your features are to be publicly exposed, such that anyone, the least of the workers at the docks, even a male slave, may look freely, and as he pleases, upon them."

  She stood a little closer to him.

  "You will be able to hide nothing," he said.

  She even lifted her chin.

  "Are you truly prepared," he asked, "so easily, to be face-stripped?"

  She lifted her chin a little more, looking up at him.

  "Strange," he said, "that you do not cringe, that you do not try to flee, that I need not use the leash, to hold you here. Have you learned so soon the futility, the meaninglessness, of recalcitrance, of disobedience? Perhaps you have felt the whip. Or perhaps you understand, already, the brand, the collar." He pulled away part of the veil from about her throat, freeing it from under the collar. "It is with pleasure, as you may well conjecture," he said, "that I now bare the face of she who was once the Lady Constanzia of Besnit. I have dreamed of unveiling her, of stripping her face, of exposing it, of making it naked." He continued to unwrap the veil. "In a moment now, my dear," he said, "your face will be naked, as is fitting for what you are now, a slave.

  "Aiii!" he cried, in astonishment, dropping the veil to one side.

  Instantly she fell to her knees before him.

  He tore the gag from her, pulling out the wadding, discarding the binding.

  Her head then was down to his feet, she weeping, covering them with kisses. The leash, fixed on her, fell to the floor. "I love you, my master!" she wept. "I love you!"

  He drew her up to her knees and he crouched before her, holding her by the upper arms.

  "What madness is this!" he cried, in consternation. "I do not understand! Are you not my Tuta!"

  "I am whoever you will have me be!" she wept.

  "But what of the Lady Constanzia of Besnit!"

  "I was she," she cried.

  "You are Tuta!" he said.

  "She was the Lady Constanzia of Besnit," she wept.

  "Tuta was a slave!"

  "No! She was free! By the kindness of the pit master she was permitted to go abroad in the city, though only if collared, and clothed as a slave! I assure you there was no danger of her escaping!"

  "Tuta," said he, "was right-thigh branded!"

  "No," said she. "You assumed that because in certain rags permitted to me you could see only my left thigh, and, it not being marked, you inferred, I thought to be a slave, that I was right-thigh marked."

  He stared at her, in disbelief.

  "I trust that master does not object to a left-thigh-marked girl," she said.

  "No, no," he said. "I am right-handed. I prefer it."

  "Good," she said.

  "You were the Lady Constanzia?"

  "Until this morning, and scarcely an Ahn ago, when I was, by order of the house of William, in Harfax, branded and collared."

  "Why did you not tell me you were free?" he asked.

  "I must appear as a slave," she said. "And you did not tell me who you were either!"

  "Of course not," he said. "What business would it have been of yours? I thought you were a mere slave."

  "Yes, Master," she said, happily.

  "My Tuta!" he said, beside himself with elation.

  "No, my name is Constanzia," she said. "That is the name which has been given to me by my master!"

  "Should you not have told me you were free?" he asked.

  "But would you have then related to me, would you have felt free to do so, would you have even approached me, would you have considered me? I wanted you to relate to me. I wanted you to approach me. I wanted you to like me. Thus I wanted you to see me not as what I was, in some legal sense, a free woman, but as what I was in my heart, what I had come to long to be, as a full woman, as one who, in the order of nature, belongs to men, as one who, in the order of nature, is a man's slave."

  "And so I saw you," he said.

  "And appropriately, my master," she whispered.

  "Surely you should have told me you were free," he said.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "Why?" he asked.

  "When I was near you," she said, "I was not free. When I was near you, I was a slave."

  They kissed.

  "The first moment I laid eyes on you," she said, "I wanted to be your slave."

  "And I," he said, "from the first moment I saw you, I wanted you in my collar."

  "It is in your collar I am now," she whispered.

  "How can you have been Constanzia of Besnit?" he demanded.

  "Forget that cold, greedy, proud woman," she begged, "think now only of the slave in your arms, who would die for you."

  "The Lady Constanzia of Besnit," he said, "muchly wronged my house."

  "She is now your slave," she said. "Do with her as you will."

  "I must take you back to Harfax," he said.

  "I heel my master with love," she said.

  "I must, by oath, throw you naked and in chains to the feet of my father."

  "Do so," she said. "I beg it."

  "Your life will not be easy in the house," he said.

  "I am a slave," she said. "We do not expect our life to be easy."

  "What am I to do with you?"

  "It is my hope that my master will do with me as he pleases."

  "I love you," he said.

  "And I love you, too, my master," she said.

  "Tuta!" said he.

  "Constanzia," she said.

  "You will answer quickly enough to either," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said, happily.

  There was a sound behind the portal to one side, that through which the clerk and the guards had earlier entered, bringing with them the slave.

  Henry looked quickly toward the portal.

  She looked over her shoulder, too. Frustration crossed her lovely features.

  "I would serve you!" she said.

  "Serve me?" he said.

  "Surely master knows what to do with a slave," she said.

  He threw her then to her back on the tiles. "Spread your legs, slave," he said.

  "Yes, my master!" she said, delightedly.

  I heard another sound behind the portal. The clerk, I gathered, had returned. The pit master, with the two pit guards, and I, of course, were waiting for him.

  "Shameless," said the pit master to me, regarding the pair, she in his arms, on the scarlet circle.

  "Yes, Master," I said, happily.

  "Yet doubtless he should try the slut out," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "I wonder how she will do as a slave," he said.

  I considered the pair. She was gasping in his arms, head back, eyes closed.

  "Excellently, I conjecture, Master," I said.

  "She looks well, naked, in her collar," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "She belongs in it," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Ai! Aiiii!" cried Henry.

  "Oh, my master! My master!" cried the slave.

  Then she wept, pulling at the binding fiber, "I cannot hold you! I cannot hold you!"

  He then knelt beside her, and lifted her to a half-sitting position in his arms.

  Her head and hair were back, hanging down. Her body was gorgeous with color, a mottled scarlet tapestry. Her nipples were tightly pointed.

  "It seems you will do as a slave," he said.

  "I desire only to serve and please my master," she said.

  He gasped, trying to regain his breath. He put her to her back on the scarlet circle. He, kneeling, looked down upon her.

  "I love you," he said.

  "And I love you
, my master," she said.

  Then suddenly, without warning, he seized her ankles and thrust them cruelly apart.

  "You are a slave," he reminded her.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "Do with me as you will."

  "Ah!" she cried.

  It took him longer with her this time, and, then, in a few minutes, he stood up, unsteadily.

  She looked up at him. "The slave would be grateful if her master were pleased with her," she said.

  "The master is pleased with her," he said.

  "The slave is grateful," she said.

  The portal leading from the chamber opened and the clerk stepped through, taking in, in a glance, the slave, naked on the tiles, and her master standing over her. He did not seem surprised.

  "Sir," said he. "The court must conduct further business."

  "We are leaving," said Henry, he of the house of William, in Harfax.

  The clerk withdrew, presumably to return shortly.

  She stretched a little, and lifted one knee, rather saucily, rather provocatively, I thought. "Do you think that I may do as a slave, truly?" she asked.

  "It is possible," he said.

  "And how do I compare to your Tuta?" she asked.

  "There seems little to choose between you," he said.

  "But how could I compare with her?" she asked. "I am too unlike her!"

  "Not as unlike as you think," he said.

  "I am only as a moon to her sun," she pouted, "only as a tarsk-bit, and a shaved one, to her gold."

  "Perhaps it was a mistake to remove your gag," he said.

  "In your mind, compared to her, I could be only as nothing," she said.

  "Be silent," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Master?" she asked. For he had drawn a knife from his robes.

  "Kneel," he said.

  She did so.

  He then went behind her and cut the remains of the outer robe of concealment away from her bound wrists.

  "What are you doing?" he asked, for she had lifted her bound wrists out, away from her body, lifting them up, toward him.

  "Are you not going to sever the binding fiber?" she asked.

  "What is wrong with it?" he asked. "Does it not bind you perfectly?"

  "It does bind me perfectly," she assured him. "I am quite helpless in it."

  "Then," said he, "it will remain as it is, until I might be pleased to remove it."

  "Oh," she said.

  "Do you understand, Constanzia, Tuta—Constanzia?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "We understand."

  The leash still dangled from her neck.

  "On your feet," he said.

  She struggled to her feet.

  He took the leash and drew her to him, quite closely. He then regarded her, about a foot from him, he holding her there, by the leash.

  "You have served well in quick usages," he said. "We will see later how you do when put to service for Ahn at a time."

  "I know nothing!" she said, in alarm. "I have not been love-trained!"

  "I will train you to my tastes," he said.

  "Whip-train me," she whispered.

  "The training of such as you is always subject to the whip," he said.

  "Good," she said.

  I recalled, as undoubtedly she had, as well, his often-remarked observation, early in their acquaintance, that she was in need of whip-training. Now, it seemed that that deficiency would be remedied. It would be attended to.

  She inched closer to him. She was now almost touching him, looking up at him.

  "And as what shall I be trained?" she asked.

  "As a pleasure slave, of course," he said.

  "You dare?" she asked. "You dare do that to she who was once the Lady Constanzia of Besnit?"

  "Certainly," he said.

  "Why?" she asked.

  "Because that is the way I want you," he said.

  "You are a beast," she said.

  "I am a man," he said.

  "But what of my will in these matters?" she asked.

  "You have no will in these matters," he said. "You are a slave. Your will is meaningless; it is nothing."

  This was true. The will of the slave did not count. The will of the master was all.

  "But would I be a good pleasure slave?" she asked.

  "I will see to it," he said. "And you will be not only a good pleasure slave, but, I assure you, you will be a perfect pleasure slave."

  "I see," she said.

  "Then you are serious," she said. "I, the former Lady Constanzia of Besnit, am to be a pleasure slave, and you will train me as such."

  "Yes," he said.

  "I see," she said.

  "Did you ever doubt it?" he asked.

  "No," she smiled.

  "Is it not the sort of training you want?" he asked.

  "It is the sort of training I beg!" she said, suddenly, delightedly, earnestly. He then crushed her to him.

  I had realized, of course, for some time, that there was not only a slave in the Lady Constanzia of Besnit, but a pleasure slave. It had been obvious, for some time, that she wanted desperately to submit herself to the mysterious visitor to Treve, to submit herself in the most perfect and complete way a woman can submit herself to a man, to be his ardent, devoted, helpless pleasure slave.

  Then he thrust her from him, reluctantly, an effort which must have cost him much will. "Later, later," he said. "We must from here," he said. "There are matters to attend to. There are others to join, agents of our house."

  "Master!" she protested.

  "In the first camp," he said, "you and other slaves will be put in cages. I will have you drawn forth from your cage. I will have you brought to me and chained to a stake in my tent."

  "And how shall I live till then?" she asked.

  "On water," he said, "and a handful of slave gruel."

  "Yes, my master," she breathed.

  He then stepped from her, releasing a coil or two of the leash, permitting it to slacken.

  "Are you prepared to be led forth?" he asked.

  She looked down, wildly, in consternation, at the shreds of her robe on the floor, and at the hood, and the veil.

  "I am unclothed," she said.

  Surely something might be arranged from the remnants of the robe, or from pieces cut from the hood! Indeed, even the veil, a large one, might be wrapped about her body!

  "You have your collar," he said.

  "Master!" she protested.

  "Certainly you do not think I would deny my house this triumph," he said.

  She straightened herself, as the leash went taut, between the ring on the leash collar and his fist.

  "Yes, Master," she said, answering his earlier question, "I am prepared to be led forth!"

  He then turned about and strode toward the door. She hurried to follow him.

  "Master!" she said.

  He stopped, and turned about.

  "Should I try to place a downcast expression on my face, Master?" she inquired.

  "You may do as you will," he said, irritatedly.

  "Doubtless you should treat me in your house, publicly, as a despised slave."

  "I suppose so," he said, "at least for a time."

  "They need not know I am your love slave," she said. "I am your love slave, am I not?"

  "Yes," he said.

  "Am I subject to the whip?" she asked.

  "Certainly," he said. "You are a slave."

  "Am I to be whipped in your house?" she asked.

  "It will undoubtedly be expected, upon occasion," he said. "You were, after all, once the Lady Constanzia of Besnit."

  "And who will whip me?" she asked.

  "Whoever wishes to do so," he said. "Even other slaves. I advise you, thusly, to try to be quite pleasing, to everyone."

  "Yes, Master," she said, trembling.

  He turned about, and took a step toward the door.

  "Master!" she said.

  He turned to face her.

&nbs
p; "You will whip me sometimes, will you not," she asked, "that I may know that I am a slave, and that you are truly my master?"

  He did not respond.

  "Can you not understand?" she said. "I love you, truly love you, helplessly! With slave helplessness! As a slave her master! And I am a slave, and you are my master! I want reassurance. I want proof, in my deepest heart, that you can do with me what you want, and that you will, that I am your slave, that you own me!"

  "Be in no doubt as to the matter," he said.

  "I would be convinced!" she said.

  "On the practical level?" he asked.

  "Yes," she said.

  "I see," he said.

  "Perhaps I will displease you!" she said.

  "Then you will find yourself punished quickly enough," he said.

  "Could you punish me?" she asked.

  "Test me," he said.

  "You could!" she said. "You could!"

  "And would," he said.

  "Yes, Master!" she said, happily.

  But I did not think she would wish to displease him. And, too, once she had felt the whip, once it had made it clear to her what she was, once it had confirmed her bondage upon her, once it had imprinted upon her an understanding of what could be done to her, I did not think it likely that she would be eager to feel it soon again, even lightly, even in the hands of a beloved master, one to whom she had surrendered everything, one to whom she belonged, totally. The whip, as a tool, is a quite effective implement. It serves to keep us well in line. Free women may make men miserable, and even attempt to destroy them, but slaves may not do so. It is ours, rather, to strive to be pleasing to our masters.

  "In my house," he said, "it will be I who will first tie you to the whipping ring, who will give you your first public lashing."

  "Thank you, Master," she said. "It is your whip which I would feel first, before all others."

  It is not that unusual, incidentally, to whip a new slave, upon her first being introduced into a house. To be sure, the custom apparently varies from city to city. In any event, given the background and interactions of the Lady Constanzia of Besnit and the House of William, in Harfax, I did not think that they would wish to wait long before seeing the lash laid to her—well laid—to the back of the new slave.

  "Master!" she cried. "Look!"

  "What?" he said. "The girl in the shadows, the creature with her?"

  "It is Janice!" she wept, joyfully.

  "Are you sure?" he asked.