Blood Brothers of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "I saw her twice, in the village," I said, "once in the entry of your band into the camp, and then, again, a day or so later. She seemed of interest."

  "We send them into the villages, upon occasion, some of them," said the first lad, "to work, if there is a call for them, or to deliver roots and berries which they have gathered to the women. Too, of course, they are useful in twisting grass for tinder and gathering wood and kailiauk chips for fuel. These things, then, too, they must deliver to the villages."

  "Surely some are sent in occasionally for wench sport," I said.

  "Sometimes we deliver a string of five or six into the camp for that purpose," said the first lad.

  "Does this wench," I asked, indicating the girl on my tether, "often occupy a place in such a string?"

  "No," laughed one of the lads.

  "She is a block of ice," said the first lad.

  "Choose another," invited one of the lads.

  "How long may I keep her?" I asked.

  "Until sundown," said the first lad. "She must then be put with the others."

  I glanced at the slender ankles of my charge. I thought they would look well in close-fitting leather hobbles, twist hobbles, knotted on the outside of the left ankle, which she, her hands bound behind her back, would be unable to remove. Such hobbles are also used, of course, for the two front legs of kaiila.

  "My thanks, lads!" I said. "You have been very helpful!"

  I then led the girl from the vicinity of the herd, to a place I had picked out, in the shelter of some trees, near a small stream.

  I had glanced back once. The lads and I exchanged waves. Several of the women in the herd, I had noted, had seemed quite pleased to see the blonde being led away on my tether. I gathered that she was an arrogant, proud girl, and not popular with her fellows. From what I knew of her, I did not find this surprising.

  "Here we are," I said, entering among the trees.

  In a moment I had tied her tether about a branch. I looked about myself.

  A parfleche, containing some food, hung in one of the branches. I had placed it there earlier. With it, too, I had placed a large hide, rolled. That hide I now unrolled and spread, carefully, on the grass. The small hide, that in which the quirt had been wrapped, I dropped to one side. "That hide," I said, indicating the smaller hide, "is about the size of a Tahari submission mat."

  I looked at the girl.

  "You may kneel," I said.

  She knelt, her tether looping gracefully up to the branch about which I had fastened it.

  "I see that you speak Gorean," I said. That pleased me for it was much easier for me than the complexities of Kaiila. She did not respond.

  "Spread your knees, widely," I said.

  She did so.

  I regarded her. In this place, until sundown, she was mine.

  "In the herd," I said, "you attempted to conceal yourself from me."

  She looked away, angrily.

  "You seem very quiet," I said. "Perhaps your tongue has been removed, or slit, for insolence." I went to her and held her head back, my hand in her hair. "Open your mouth," I said. She did so. "No," I said. "That is not the case."

  She made an angry noise.

  "At least you are capable of sound," I said.

  She tossed her head.

  I then walked about her. "Your curves," I said, "suggest that you do not need to be a block of ice. They suggest that you are capable of responding as a hormonally normal woman. I see that you are not branded."

  I then crouched before her and touched the side of her neck. She pulled away, angrily.

  This gesture displeased me. The slave must welcome the touch of a man. Indeed, she must even beg for it.

  Angrily I drew the quirt from my belt. She eyed it, fearfully. She shook her head. She uttered tiny, protesting, begging noises. She lifted her head, turning her head so that the side of her neck faced me, that I might touch it, if it pleased me.

  "Ah," I said, "of course. You are a herd girl. You may not use human speech without permission." I had taken it for granted, mistakenly, as it had turned out, that the prohibition against human speech imposed on the herd girl would cease to obtain when, say, as in the present context, she had clearly been removed from the vicinity of the herd. I understood now that this was not the case. This made sense, of course. One would not expect human speech from a she-kaiila, for example, even if she were not in her herd. Too, I now had a much clearer notion of the effectiveness of the discipline under which the red masters kept their white beauties.

  She nodded her head, vigorously.

  "I wonder if I should give you permission to use human speech," I mused. "Perhaps, rather, I should feed, train and use you as a mere curvaceous brute, not bothering to complicate our relationship by according you human speech."

  She made piteous, begging noises.

  "It has been a long time since you were permitted to speak, has it not?" I said.

  She nodded.

  "Do you wish to be permitted to speak?" I asked.

  She nodded, anxiously.

  "Do you beg it?" I asked.

  She nodded, desperately.

  "Very well," I said. "You may speak." I usually permitted my slaves to speak. Sometimes, however, when it pleased me, I had them serve me mutely, as only delicious beasts. Only one or two slaves had I never permitted to speak in my presence, and those I had, later, sold off.

  "That is good," she said, "to be able to speak!"

  "You may thank me," I informed her.

  "I do not wish to do so," she said.

  "The permission accorded," I said, "may as readily be withdrawn."

  "Thank you," she said. It pleased me to obtain this small amount of courtesy, this conciliatory token, from this woman.

  "Thank you—what?" I asked.

  "You are a slave!" she said. "You wear a collar!"

  "Thank you—what?" I asked.

  She was silent.

  "Are you familiar with the quirt?" I asked.

  "Thank you, Master," she said, quickly. "Yes, Master!"

  "I see you have felt it," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  It did not surprise me that she, a white female of red savages, was familiar with the quirt.

  Once quirted, of course, a woman understands the implement well. It is a useful tool for obtaining deference and obedience in a female slave, indeed, one might add, a rightful, earnest, fervid, frightened, heartfelt deference, and an attentive, eager, scrupulously meticulous obedience.

  I recalled Winyela.

  "Do you know what you are doing here?" I asked.

  "You are going to use me," she said, "one or more times. Then you will return me to the herd. I am ready. Let us get on with it."

  I regarded her.

  "I do not wish to be quirted," she said.

  "Why, a moment ago, did you withdraw from my touch?" I asked.

  "I found it irritating," she said. I saw her body, as she said this, tighten, and draw back. It was very different from the normal body of a slave, which seems so warm and soft, so vital and alive, so eager to be touched, caressed and held. I saw that she was a rigid, unhappy woman.

  "You are not branded," I said.

  "No," she said.

  "Are you from a Waniyanpi compound?" I asked. The Waniyanpi, slaves of red savages, lived in tiny, isolated agricultural communities. They supplied their masters with corn and vegetables. They subscribed to a unisex ethos.

  "No," she said.

  "How did you come to the Isanna?" I asked.

  "You do not need to know anything about me, to have me," she said.

  "Speak, Slave," I said. I touched the quirt to the palm of my left hand.

  "Yes, Master," she said quickly. "I was once a woman of Ar."

  Her accent, soft and liquid, had suggested this to me.

  "I was of the merchants. I formed a company to trade along the Ihanke. I hired five men. I regarded the red savages as ignorant barbarians. I sent my men to n
earby trading points, opened by the Dust Legs to any white traders. I furnished them with inferior trade goods, which they were to misrepresent to the savages. I would become rich in hides and horn. Imagine my surprise when, standing on the front porch of my small trading post, I saw my five men, afoot, bound and gagged, each dragging a travois, returning from the Ihanke. At the same time I felt myself seized from behind by red savages, Dust Legs. I was stripped and bound. I was shown the materials on the travois. They were the inferior trade goods I had sent to the trading points, being returned. One item, however, on one of the travois was not mine. It was a fine kailiauk robe. One of the Dust Legs showed it to me, and then pointed to it, and then to me, and then threw it on the porch of the trading post. It was their payment for me. I was then carried into the Barrens. I have been a slave of red savages ever since."

  "At least you were properly paid for," I said.

  "Yes," she said, angrily.

  "How did you come to the Isanna?" I asked.

  "The Dust Legs traded me to the Sleen," she said, "and the Sleen traded me to the Yellow Knives."

  "It seems that no one was eager to keep you," I said.

  "Perhaps not," she said.

  "What did you bring?" I asked.

  "The Sleen got me for two knives," she said, "and the Yellow Knives had me for a mirror."

  "The Dust Legs," I said, "apparently originally conjectured that you would be worth a hide. You then went for two knives, and then for a mirror."

  "Yes," she said, bitterly.

  "You have not failed to note, I suppose," I said, "that you have seemed to undergo a certain decrease in value."

  "No," she said, angrily, "I have not failed to note that."

  "How did you finally come to the Isanna?" I asked.

  "I was taken in a girl raid by the Isanna, with two-dozen others," she said. "We were herded into the Isanna country."

  I nodded. This was around Council Rock, north of the northern fork of the Kaiila River and west of the Snake River.

  "But you are not kept in a private lodge," I said. "You are kept in a girl herd."

  "I was tried out, and then put in the herd," she said.

  "You are apparently not regarded as much of a slave," I said.

  "I am beautiful," she said, squirming in her bonds, the tether, attached to the branch, above her head, on her neck. "You saw that I was marched at the stirrup of an Isanna warrior in the Isanna procession into the camp of the Isbu!"

  "That is true," I said. "You were seen fit to be displayed as Isanna loot."

  "Yes," she said.

  "Then you were sent back to the herd," I said.

  "Yes," she said, sullenly.

  "Why," I asked, "did you, in our two previous meetings, regard me with such contempt?"

  She tossed her head.

  "I advise you to speak, Slave," I said. I tapped the quirt in my palm.

  "You are only a male slave," she spat out, suddenly. "I despise male slaves. I hold them in contempt. I am too high for them. I am too lofty for them. I am above them! Girls such as I belong to and are for free men!"

  "I see," I said.

  "Too," she said, "I am the property of a red master."

  I nodded. I saw that she had come to know and respect red savages. From a woman who had once regarded them as dupes and ignorant barbarians she had now come, as their slave, to understand them as the redoubtable hunters and warriors they were. Astride their kaiila, lance in hand, they were the rulers of the prairies, the Ubars of the plains. In the Barrens, obviously, it is something of a distinction for a woman, particularly a lowly white woman, to belong to one.

  "But you are apparently not much of a property for your master," I said.

  "Oh?" she said, angrily.

  "You are kept in a herd," I reminded her.

  She looked away, angrily.

  I freed her tether from the branch and, slipping it back under the bond coming up from her wrists, I unlooped it from her neck. I then freed her hands. I dropped the rope to the side.

  "Perhaps you had better keep me bound, or put me in a leg stretcher," she said.

  "That will not be necessary," I said.

  She rubbed her wrists. I had perhaps bound her too tightly. But then it is important that a girl knows herself bound.

  "What are you going to do to me?" she asked.

  "Many things," I said, "but among them I am going to improve your master's property."

  She looked at me.

  "Get on your hands and knees," I said.

  She complied.

  "See the quirt?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "I will give you a moment or two to crawl to the robe which I have spread on the grass," I said. "After that, if you are anywhere else for the next Ahn, the quirt will be used on you, and liberally. And, indeed, it may, if I choose, be used on you, even on the robe."

  "I understand, Master," she said.

  "Go," I said.

  She crawled to the robe. Crouching on it, she looked at it, and its edges. It was an island of safety for her, or possible safety. Off it, in the next Ahn, she knew she would be whipped. On it, she did not know. This was, of course, a familiar master's tactic, usually used only with new slaves, young, inexperienced girls, fearful of the sexual aspects of their slavery. They find themselves in a large room, usually empty, or rather empty, save for an imposing couch. They are then informed that they will be whipped anywhere in the room except on the couch and may, perhaps, be whipped upon it. Needless to say, the girl scurries to the couch, regards it, in effect, as a place of possible refuge, in spite of the fact that her sexual exploitation and domination will clearly take place upon it, and, for the time limits set, whatever they may be, fears to leave it. Some masters, if not pleased, will force the girl from the couch, and, keeping themselves between the girl and the couch, whip her, then letting her, after a few strokes, flee back to the couch. There, in that place of possible safety she will try again, desperately, to be more pleasing. This may be the last time in months, incidentally, that the girl will be on the surface of the couch. Until her slave skills improve her place will be on furs, or a mat, or on the bare stones or tiles, at the foot of the couch. Indeed, some masters will sleep even a superb slave at the foot of the couch. Perhaps it is too obvious to mention but a point served by this original use of the couch is to break down the new slave's fear of the couch and encourage her to see it in a favorable light, indeed, as a place of relative safety, comfort and favor. In a possibly hostile environment she desires its protection and significance. She wishes to be upon it. Later, of course, for nobler reasons, she will presumably come to view it with even greater eagerness and affection. On it she will be permitted to serve her master and on it, in turn, she will come to know his touch, as a loving, yielding slave.

  "Get on your left hip," I said, "your right leg extended, the palms of your hands on the robe."

  "You cannot kill me," she said. "I do not belong to you!"

  "That is an interesting question," I said. "As I hold the beaded quirt I think I do, in this context, have such rights over you. At any rate, even if I do not, a complaint to the boys, relayed by them to your master, would surely be in order. He may then decide whether or not your least difficulty or disobedience is to be punished by death. And since you are a herd girl, I doubt that he will think twice about the matter. That is better." She had assumed the position which I had prescribed.

  "Do not complain to the boys," she said. "They are cruel!"

  "They are not cruel," I said. "They are only good herders."

  "If I do not please you," she said, "just quirt me."

  "Have no fear," I said. "If I am not pleased you will be well quirted. Then I will decide whether or not to complain to the boys."

  She moaned.

  "You have good slave curves," I said, regarding her. "You may thank me."

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  "One wonders why, then, you are so valueless. You went fo
r a hide, and then two knives, and then only a mirror. Now you are in a herd. Why are you worth so little?"

  "I do not know, Master," she said.

  "The boys tell me that you are a block of ice," I said.

  "I cannot help it if I am unresponsive," she said. "It is my nature."

  "I also gather," I said, "that you are arrogant and surly. You are thus, in various respects, a poor slave."

  She tossed her head, irritably.

  I struck her once, on the right thigh, with the quirt. She cried out with pain, and looked down at the welt.

  "I would think twice, if I were you," I said, "before I made angry little noises or impatient gestures."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Do you find men attractive?" I asked.

  "Since I may be raped at their pleasure," she said, "what difference does it make?"

  "Do you find them attractive?" I asked.

  "Sometimes," she said, "they make me feel uneasy."

  "What were your relations with men, prior to your enslavement?" I asked.

  "Cannot you simply take me and be done with it?" she asked.

  "Speak," I said.

  "At one time," she said, "in spite of being a proud free woman of Ar, I felt the desire for the companionship of men."

  "I understand," I said.

  "I decided that I would permit them, certain ones of my careful choosing, of proper means and stations, to become acquainted with me, and that I might then, from among these, favor certain ones with the dignity and honor of my friendship. Then, perhaps, in time, if I felt so inclined, I might, if he were thoroughly pleasing and wholly suitable, consider acceding to the pleas of one to enter into companionship with me."

  "And how did matters proceed?" I asked.

  "I called together a number of young men," she said. "I informed them of my willingness to form acquaintances, and specified to them the strict conditions to which these relationships, absolute equality, and such, would be subject."

  "And what happened?" I asked.

  "All withdrew politely," she said, "and I never saw them again, with one exception, a little urt of a man who told me he shared my views, fully."

  "You entered into companionship with him?" I asked.

  "I discovered he was interested only in my wealth," she said. "I dismissed him."