touch the daughter of Tho gard of Scagnar. She shrank back, terrified. The
Forkbeard looked upon her, amused. "Would you n care to play in the furs?" he
asked her. "No," she said, shuddering. "Let me play," whimpered Pudding. "Let me
play," whi pered Gunnhild. "Do not misunderstand me, Ivar Forkbeard," whispere
Hilda. If you order me to the furs I shall obey you, an swlftly. I will comply
with your slightest wish, exactly an promptly. I will do whatever I am told."
Pudding and Gunnhild laughed. Ottar stumbled up, putting his hand on one of the
post~ By a length of ship's rope, he had tied Olga to his belt. Sh looked at me;
her eyes shone; her lips were parted; she pu out her hand; I paid her no
attention; she looked down, fis clenched, and whimpered. I smiled. I would use
her befor the night was done. "It is said," intoned Ottar, "that Hilda the
Haughty daughter of Thorgard of Scagnar, is the coldest of women.' "Do you find
men of interest?" asked the Forkbeard c "No," she said. "I do not." Ottar
laughed. "Are you not curious," asked Ivar of the daughter of Thorgard of
Scagnar, "what it would be to feel on your body their hands, their mouths?"
'sMen are beasts!" she cried. "Their teeth?" he asked. "Men are hateful," she
wept. "They are terrible beasts, using girls as their prey!" She looked about at
the bondmaids. "Resist them!" she cried. "Resist them!" Pudding threw bac~ her
head and laughed. "Resistance is not permitted," she laughed. "Throw her in the
furs," cried Pretty Ankles. "Then she will learn whether she knows what she is
taL~ing about or not. "Throw her in the furs," cried another bond-maid. "Thr~w
her in the furs," called yet another. "Throw her in the furs," cried the
bond-maids. Hilda shuddered, terrified. "Silence!" called out Ivar Forkbeard.
There was silence. "What," asked Ivar Forkbeard of Hilda, "if I should order you
to the furs?" "I would obey you immediately," she said. "I have felt the whip,"
she explained. "But of your own free will you would be unlikely to enter upon
the furs?" asked Ivar. "Of course not," she said. ~Gorm, who had now
disentangled himself from Pouting Lips, joined the circle about the table, where
we sat, others standing. She was behind him, combing her hair with a comb of
horn. "She is Hilda the Haughty," laughed Ottar. "She is the coldest of women!"
Hilda stood straight, her head high. "Ottar, Gorm," said the Forkbeard. "Take
her to the ice shed. Leave her there, bound hand and foot." The bond-maids
shrieked with pleasure. Men pounded 156 their left shoulders with the palms of
their right hand ~ome pounded their plates on the heavy boards of t~ wooden
table. Ottar delayed only long enough to untie Olga from h belt. He had tied her
there by ship's rope, knotted about h~ stomach. He left the rope about her
stomach, but, with i free end, pulling her arms about one of the roof posts, tie
her hands together. He then left, following Gorm, who had dragged Hild from the
hall. She tried futilely to free herself. She looked at me, agc nized. "Untie
me," she begged. I looked at her. "My body wants you, Tarl Red Hair," she wept.
"M~ body needs you!" I looked away from her, paying her no more attention. ]
heard her moan, and rub her body on the post. "I need you Tarl Red Hair," she
whimpered. I would let her smolder for another Ahn or two. By thal time her body
would be ready. To my slightest touch it would leap, helpless, squirming, in my
arms. I would use her twice, the second time in the lengthy use of the Gorean
master, that use in which, over an Ahn, the female slave or bond-maid is shown
no mercy. "Mead!" I called. Pretty Ankles rushed to serve me. I again bent to
kiss the lips of Thyri. Late and fully were we feasting when the thrall-boy,
tugging on the sleeve of Ivar ~orkbeard, said to him, "MyJarl, the wench in the
ice shed begs to be freed." "How long has she begged?" asked the Forkbeard. "For
more than two Ahn," said the boy, grinning. He was male. "Good boy," said the
Forkbeard, and tore him a piece of neat. "Thank you, myJarl," said the boy. The
boy, unlike the adult male thralls, was not chained at ~ight in the bosk shed
Ivar was fond of him. He slept, chained, in the kitchen. "Red Hair, Gorrn," said
the Forkbeard. "Fetch the littl~ Ubara of Scagnar." We smiled. "Gorm," said the
Forkbeard. "Before she is freed, see that her thirst is assuaged." "Yes,
Captain," said Gorm. We carried a torch to the ice shed. We opened the heavy
door, lined with leather, and lifted the torch, closing the door behind us. In
the light of the torch we saw Hilda. We approached more closely. She lay on her
side, in misery, across great blocks of ice; she could lift her head and
shoulders no more than six inches from the ice; she could draw her ankles toward
her body no more than six inches; small chips of wood, in which the ice is
packed, clung about her body; she was bound, hand and foot, her wrists behind
her, her ankles crossed and tied. Two ropes prohibited her from struggling to
either a sitting or kneeling position, one running from her right ankle across
the ice to a ring in the side of the shed, the other runnin,~ from her throat
across the ice to a similar ring on the other side of the shed. "Please," she
wept. Her teeth chattered; her lips were blue. She lay before us, on her back.
"Please," she wept, piteously, "I beg to be permitted to run to the furs of Ivar
Forkbeard." We looked down on her. "I beg!" she cried. "I beg to be permitted to
run to his furs!" Gorm unbound the rope from her ankle, that which hadheld her
legs straight, and that on her throat, which had prevented her from lifting her
shoulders and head. He did not unbind her wrists and ankles. He lifted her to a
sitting position. She trembled with cold, whimpering. "I have brought you a
drink," he said. 'Drink it eagerly, Hilda the Haughty." "Yes, yes!" she
whispered, her teeth chattering. Then, holding her head back, and lifting the
cup to her 158 mouth, he gave her of the drink he had brought with him. And
eagerly, whimpering, shuddering with cold, did Hilda tke Haughty drink down the
slave wine. Gorm unbound her and threw her over his shoulder; so stiff and
trembling with cold, and stiff from the ropes, was she that she could not stand.
I put my hand on her body; it was like ice. She was whimpering with cold, her
head hanging down, over Gorm's back; her long hair fell to the back of his
knees. I lit the way with the torch, and we took her to the hall of the
Forkbeard. We carried her through the darkness and smoke of the hall, between
the posts. The Forkbeard was sitting on the end of his couch, his boots on the
fioor. Gorm threw her, on her knees, at the feet of the Forkbeard. Her head was
down; her hair was over his boots. She trembled with cold. Men and bond-maids
gathered about. The left side of her body was illuminated dully, redly, from the
coals of the fire pit. The right side of her body was in darkness. "Who are
you?" demanded the Forkbeard. "Hilda," she wept, "daughter of Thorgard of
Scagnar." "Hilda the Haughty?" he asked. "Yes," she wept, head down, "Hilda the
Haughty." "What do you want?" he asked. "To share your furs," she wept. "Are you
not a free woman?" he asked. "I beg to share your
furs, Ivar Forkbeard," she
wept. He rose to his feet and shoved back a long table, and a bench, on the
other side of the fire pit. With his heel he drew in the dirt of the floor a
bond-maid circle. She looked at him. Then he gestured that she might enter his
couch. Gratefully, she crawled upon the couch, his section of that furcovered,
dirt sleeping level, and, trembling, shuddering with cold, drawing her body up,
drew the furs about her. She lay 159 ~'~ huddled in the furs. Her body shook
beneath them. We heard her moan. "Mead!" called Ivar Forkbeard, returning to the
table. Pudding was first to reach him, with a horn of mead. "Please come to my
side, Ivar Forkbeard!" wept Hilda. "I freeze! Hold me! Please hold me!" "Let
that be a lesson in passion to you other bond-maids," laughed Ottar. There was
much laughter, and most from the beautiful, nude slaves of the men of
TorvaldsIand, hot, collared, and eager in their brawny arms. The Forkbeard,
laughing, drained the horn. "Mead!" he cried. Gunnhild served him. After this
second horn of mead the Forkbeard, wiping his mouth with his arm, turned about
and went to his furs. He howled with misery. "She is the coldest of women!"
laughed Ottar. "Hold me, Forkbeard!" she wept. "Hold me please!" "Will you serve
me well?" asked the Forkbeard. "Yes," she cried. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" But the
Forkbeard did not make her serve him then but, firmIy, held her body, locked in
his arms, that of his prisoner, to his, warming her. After half of an Ahn I saw
her, delicately, eyes frightened, lift her head and put her lips to his
shoulder; softly, timidly, she kissed him; and then looked into his eyes.
Suddenly she was flung on her back and his huge hand, roughened from the hilt of
the sword, the handle of the ax, was at her body. "Oh no!" she cried. "No!" Bets
were made at the table. I bet on Ivar Forkbeard. Within an Ahn, Hilda the
Haughty, to the jeers of men, the taunts of bond-maids, on her hands and knees,
head down, hair falling forward, crept to the circle of the bond-maid, which
Ivar Forkbeard had drawn in the dirt of the hall floor between the posts. The
coals of the fire pit illuminated the left side of her body. She crawled before
the bond-maids the oarsmen. She entered the circle, and then, within the circle,
stood up. She stood very straight, and her head was up. "I am yours, Ivar
Forkbeard," she said. "I am yours!" 160 He gestured to her, and she fled from
the circle, to join him, to throw herself at his side, to beg his touch, his
bondmaid. I collected nine tarn disks and two pieces of broken plate, plundered
two years ago from a house on the eastern edge of Skjern. Gunnhild had been
given by the Forkbeard to Gorm for the night. I saw him holding her by the arm
and pushing her ahead of him to his furs. This night her ankle wouId be held by
his fetter, -not that of the Forkbeard. The Forkbeard had offered me Pudding,
but, generously, thinking to have Thyri, I had, after using her once, given her
for the night to Ottar. Even now she was, kneeling on his furs, being fettered
by the keeper of Ivar Forkbeard's farm. You can imagine my irritation when I saw
Thyri led past me, her left wrist in the grip of an oarsman. She looked over her
shoulder at me, agonized. I blew her a kiss in the Gorean fashion, kissing and
gesturing, my fingers at the right side of my mouth, almost vertical, then, with
the kiss, brushing gently toward her. I had no special claim on-the pretty
little bond-maid, no more than any other among t~he Forkbeard's men. The
delicious little thing, like the other goods of the hall, was, for most
practical purposes, for the use of us all. I heard the movements of chain, the
moans of the bondmaids in the arms of their masters, men of-Torvaldsland. I
thought I would sleep alone this night. "Tarl Red Hair," I heard. I followed the
sound of the voice and, to my delight, as Ottar had left her, she slipping his
mind apparently, as she had mine, her hands still tied before her, about the
post, kneeling in the dirt, was Olga. "I hate you, Tarl Red Hair," she said. I
knelt beside her. I had intended to permit her to smolder for a time, she much
aroused, and then later, when she had been much heated with need and desire,
when, cruelly deprived, she had been aching to break into flame, throw her to my
furs, but, unfortunately, I had forgotten about her. "I forgot about you," I
told her. 161 "I hate you, Tarl Red Hair," she said. I reached out to touch her.
She shrank back in fury. "Would you please untie me?" she asked. I did not wish
to sleep alone. I wondered if the fires in Olga which, earlier, had burned so
deeply, so hotly, could be truly out. I wondered if they might be rekindled. I
slipped, kneeling, behind her. I heard her body move against the post. I pushed
her collar up, under her chin, and, with two fingers of my right hand and two
fingers of my left, rubhed the sides of her throat. "Please untie me," she
whispered. Her hands writhed in the bonds; her body pressed against the post;
her left cheek was at the right side of the post~ My hands lowered themselves on
her body. And then, her hands tied about the post, we both kneelingg I caressed
her. She tried to resist, in fury, but I was patient. At last I heard her sob.
"You are master," she said, "Tarl Red Hair." I kissed her on the back of the
right shoulder. She put back her head. "Take me to your filrs?'' she begged. I
untied her hands from the post, taking, too, the rope from her b~lly, by which
Ottar had fastened her to his belt, but lett the rope on her right wrist, its
free end in my hand, to lead her. But I needed not lead her. She followed
eagerly, trying to press her lips to my left shoulder. Before my sleeping area,
my rude couch, my furs, ~ stopped. I stood behind her. She stood very still,
facing the couch, at its foot. She was a bond-maid. She was property. She was
owned. 'CForce me," she whispered. Bond-maids know they are chattel, and relish
being treated as such. Deep in the belly, too, of e~ery female is a desire, more
ancient than the caves, to be forced to yield to the ruthless domination of a
magnificent, uncompromising male, a master; deep within them ths~y all wish to
submit, vulnerably and completely. nude, tO such a beast. This is completely
clear in their fantasies; Earth culture, of course, gives little scope to these
blood needs of the beauties of our race; accordingly, these needs, frustrated,
tend to ex 162 pre~s themselves in neurosis, hys~eria and hostility. Technology
and social structures, lollowing their own dynamics, in~egral to their
development and expansion, have left behind the pitiful, rational animals who
are their builders and the~r vlc~ims. We have built our own cage, and de~end it
against those who would shatter its locks M~, lett hand held her left arm, with
my right hand I forc.ed her right wrist behind her back; I thrust it up. she
cried out, suddenly, with misery; I threw her to the furs; scarcf ly had she
struck them, crying out, belly down, than I had clasped the tetter of black iron
about her ankle; chained, she turned to face me, sitting on the furs, tears in
her eyes, her hands back, her legs flexed. I discarded the leather and tur of
Torvaldsla
nd. With a movement of the chain she knelr on the turs, her head down.
I entered up~n the furs. "To your belly," I said, "ankles a foot apart." "Yes,
my Jarl," she said. I then began to caress her, beneath th~ ,hins, on the
inside~ of her feet, behind the backs ~f her knees~ at the sides of her breasts,
high between her thighs. By ~he ~ensility of her muscles, the movements of her
body, sometin es her tiny cries, her breathing, she ir~structed me in her
weakness, which I, as a warrior, might then exploit. When I was satisfied, I
threw her to her back. "I am told," I told her, "that Olga is one of the best of
the bond-maids." She lifted her body to me, begging for my touch. I fondled th~
extent o~ her, kissing and licking. "What have you done to my body?" she
whispered. "I have never felt this way, this deeply, this ~ully, before." "What
does your body tell you?'; I asked. "Tha~ I will be a marvel to you, Tarl Red
Hair," she whispered. "A marvel!" "Please me," I told her. "Yes, m~ Jarl," she
wept. "Yes!" And when she had much pleased me, I finished with her, in the lirs~
taking. "Hold me," she wept. "I shall hold you," I told her, "and then, in a
time, bond-maid, you will be again used." She looLed at me, startled. "This," I
told her, "is the first taking. It's purpose is only to warm you for the
second." She clutched me, not speaking. I held her, tightly. "Can I endure such
pleasure?" she asked, frightened. "You are bond," I told her. "You will have no
choice." "I~Iy Jarl," she asked, frightened, "is it the second taking of the
Gorean master, to which you intend to subject me?" "Yes," I told her. "I have
heard of it," she wept. "In it," she gasped, "the girl is permitted no quarter,
no mercy!" "That is true," I told her. We lay together, silently, I holding her,
she against me, chained, for something like half of an Ahn. Then I touched "She
lifted her head. "Is it beginning?" she asked. "Yes," I told her. "~lay a
bond-maid beg one favor of her Jarl?" she asked. "Perhaps," I said. She leaned
over me. I felt her hair brush my body. "Be merciless," she whispered. "Be
merciless," she begged. "That is my intention," I told her, and threw her to he
~Never have I yielded as I yielded now," she wept. " would not exchange my
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