by John Norman
“Turn about,” he said. “Bolt the door.”
Two heavy bolts, one after the other, were thrust home, securing the great door.
“Kneel there,” he said, “facing me.”
“Proud woman of the empire,” he said.
She shook her head, negatively.
“Now only a slave,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Here,” he said, pointing to his feet, “crawl, on your belly.”
She went to her belly, and crawled to his feet, where, her head down, she covered them with kisses.
“You are afraid, aren’t you?” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“On all fours,” he said. “Go to the tray. Fetch the slave flower in your teeth.”
She went to the tray and, turning her head, delicately, managed to grip the stem of the flower in her teeth. She then backed to where he stood, and put down her head, and placed the flower at his feet, between them.
“You offer me the slave flower?” he asked.
She lifted her head, tears in her eyes. “Yes, Master,” she said.
“Pick it up, again, in your teeth,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered. Then she had the stem between her teeth, the flower to the left side of her lips, the base of the stem to the right.
She lifted her head to him, the flower between her teeth.
“You again offer me the slave flower?” he asked.
She nodded, tears in her eyes.
“And more properly this time?” he said.
She nodded, again, and lifted her head even more, proffering the flower.
To her consternation, he crouched down before her, and pried open her teeth.
“You do not offer it to me,” he said, angrily. “I take it,” he said. He tore it from her mouth.
She shuddered.
“On your knees, hands clasped behind you,” he said. “Draw the furs to the floor, at the foot of the couch.”
She looked at him, wildly.
“One such as you surely did not expect the dignity of being used upon its surface, did you?”
She shook her head, tears in her eyes.
“With your teeth, of course,” he said.
She drew the furs from the couch.
She then, on all fours, as he stood to one side, her head down, using only her teeth, as she knew she must, spread them carefully.
She knelt to one side.
He snapped his fingers, and pointed to the furs. “On them, slave girl,” he said.
Obediently she crawled to the furs.
He dropped the slave flower down, beside her.
He arranged her, as he wished.
“Master?” she said, as her small wrists were locked in the cuffs of chains, one to each side, above her, behind her.
“I have waited long for you,” he said. “Ever since the court on Terennia.”
“And I have waited long for you, my master,” she said. “Ever since the court on Terennia.”
He crouched down beside her, and put the slave flower again between her teeth, but it did not remain there long.
“This will be done quickly,” he said. “Then I will teach you what it is to be a slave.”
“Oh!” she cried.
He pulled the flower from between her teeth and cast it to the side.
“Your slave flower has been plucked, my dear,” he said. “That can be done but once, and now, among knowing men, you will have even greater value as a slave.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
It was long that she lay in his chains, and in this time she experienced feelings, and ecstasies, which she had not even understood were possible, and further knew that in them she had only begun to sense what might await her, could only begin to dimly sense new dawns, rising on new worlds, far seas, distant horizons, beckoning continents of sentience, realities toward which she wished to race, but knew that she must in any event follow, whether she wished to or not, in the chains of masters.
“Already you writhe well,” Otto commented.
“I am totally yours, my savage master, my barbarian Lord!” she wept.
“That is known to me,” he said, “slave girl.”
“More! More! Do not stop!” she begged.
“I shall do as I please,” he informed her.
“Yes, Master!” she wept.
“This is what you are good for,” he informed her.
“Yes, Master!” she wept. “But I want to serve you, too, in all ways, totally, helplessly!”
“You will,” he informed her.
Toward morning it was necessary to gag her.
When the sounds of the rising of the house were audible in the corridor, Otto rose and dressed. He looked down at the slave, who was curled on the furs, and looking up at him. She was no longer gagged, and the only bond now on her was a chain which ran to her left ankle, fastening her to a ring at the foot of the couch.
She looked away from him, trembling.
Yes, he thought, it seems possible that she has the makings of a good slave.
CHAPTER 34
Otto and Julian breakfasted upon a terrace, one outside the office which had suffered much damage in the explosion. The seared, protective dome, which could withstand most strafing blasts from atmospheric craft, had been returned to its sheath. The morning was bright, and the air crisp. The mountains, which could be seen over the terrace, were striking in the sunlight. On the tops of some distant peaks there was snow, some of which lingered throughout the year.
The breakfast was being served by a barbarian slave girl whose name was Gerune, who now wore the simple, short slave tunic which was common to women of her condition throughout the empire. When not serving she knelt to one side, to be ready if aught was desired.
She was clearly a beautiful slave, and was becoming well trained.
Earlier this morning, before breakfast, Julian and Otto had bid farewell to a citizen of the empire and his slave. They had left in a road vehicle, and the citizen had had in his possession new papers, which were excellently done,. and unlikely to provoke suspicion at almost any checkpoint. His purse was also filled with coins and certain letters of credit, and introduction. He wore clothing of a sort common in the empire, at least among the upper honestori, the patricians and such, a tunic and robe. These were not ostentatious and were not likely to attract undue attention. The slave who accompanied him wore slave garb, in this case, Serian slave leather, which her master had picked out for her. This was a combination of garment and harness, which held her hands buckled in cuffs behind her. She was also leashed, which leash ran to the ring on the thick leather collar, part of the harnesslike garment. No identificatory papers were required for her, no more than for any other animal. There was, however, required for her, a health certificate. This was kept by the master. It primarily attested that, at the time of the preparation of the certificate, the slave had been found free of communicable disease. She might, thus, be legally transported among worlds.
Julian and Otto looked up from their coffees, as I shall call them. One, favored by Julian, was feldis, a steaming, bluish-black liquid brewed from the feldis lichen. It was popular in the navy, particularly on long interstellar flights. He did not care greatly for kemac, brewed from the stewing of kemac leaves, popular at the court. The other, sipped by Otto, was oris, a bitter, black fluid generally served hot, as well. It was brewed from the oris root, found only on Sybyl II. It was expensive, and rare. Otto did not find the taste displeasing. Many, and diverse, thought Otto, are the riches of the empire.
“Slaves,” announced the guard.
He had approached, being preceded by two slaves, Renata and Flora. They were naked, and each had a whip tied about their neck, and their hands were thonged behind them. They both knelt, head down, before the table.
Each, as we may recall, had been consigned to duties in the house. In this regard, they were both now being presented before Julian. Julia
n put down his coffee.
“Was Renata satisfactory?” Julian asked the guard, he to whom Renata’s custody had been given the preceding evening.
“Yes, milord,” said the guard.
“She worked well?”
“Yes, milord.”
“And did you require slave use from her?”
“Yes, milord.”
“How was she?”
“A slave, milord,” he said.
“Totally?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Excellent,” said Julian. He then regarded the kneeling Flora. “As I recall, my dear,” he said, “you were sent last night with a light supper to the room of my friend, Otto, and were to see to his comfort and needs.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Was everything satisfactory?” Julian asked Otto.
“Yes,” he said.
“And did you require slave use from her?”
“Yes,” said Otto.
“How was she?” asked Julian.
“She is already muchly needful,” said Otto. “And I think that, in a matter of even days, she will be helplessly so, and will crawl, and whine and beg, and will do anything for the touch of a master.”
“You found her satisfactory then?” said Julian.
“Yes,” said Otto, “for a new slave, one whose slave flower was only recently plucked, one at this stage in her development and training.”
“Excellent,” said Julian. He then turned to the guard. “Take the slaves away,” he said. “To the kitchen.”
“Yes, milord,” said the man.
The two slaves rose quickly to their feet, and turned about.
“Wait,” said Otto.
The party hesitated.
“That one,” said Otto. “Give her ten lashes in the kitchen.”
Both slaves trembled.
“The one with dark hair,” said Otto.
Renata visibly relaxed and Flora stiffened, in bewilderment, and apprehension.
“You were not satisfied?” inquired Julian.
“That is not it,” said Otto. “It is merely to remind her that she is a slave.”
“Excellent,” said Julian.
He then waved his hand, and the party left the terrace, the slaves preceding their guard.
“She will doubtless be twice as diligent tonight,” said Julian.
“When I next call her,” said Otto. “Tonight, I think I will call Renata.”
The men then returned to their coffees.
“Abrogastes will grow ever more dangerous,” said Julian.
“You would have me recruit on Tangara, among the Otungs,” said Otto.
The Otungs were one of the five tribes of the Vandal nation. They are not to be confused with the Ortungs, which was a secessionist tribe from the Drisriaks, one of the eleven traditional tribes of the Alemanni.
“Yes, but alas,” said Julian, “for my hopes in this matter have been frustrated by the long delay in the delivery of your commission.”
“In what way?” asked Otto, puzzled.
“The time is no longer ripe,” said Julian, wearily. “It had to have been done earlier.”
“Why?” asked Otto.
“Because, on Tangara, among the Otungs,” said Julian, gravely, “this is now the Killing Time.”
“I have heard of that,” said Otto.
“It is too dangerous to go there at such a time,” said Julian.
“I will leave immediately,” said Otto.
“As you wish,” said Julian.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 5b9d581a-954c-4189-925f-b677326de170
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 1.5.2011
Created using: calibre 0.7.57, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Claymore
Source URLs :
http://lib.rus.ec
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/