Mercenaries of Gor

by Norman, John;

  “Stand straight,” he said to Boabissia.

  Boabissia, frightened, straightened her body.

  Hurtha made a noise of approval, pleased at seeing Boabissia under male command. I, too, I must admit, was pleased to see this, to see Boabissia obeying. How marvelous and rewarding it is to control a female, having total power over her.

  “Straighter,” he said. “Suck in your gut, put your shoulders back.”

  She complied.

  “If it is of interest to you,” he said, “I did not simply buy you. Although your mother was a free woman I had her strip, and then put her through slave paces. I would attempt to assess the possibilities of the daughter by seeing the mother, by seeing her naked and performing, attempting desperately to please. When she was reluctant, as a free woman, I used the whip on her. Thus I obtained a better idea of what I might be buying.”

  “Tell me about my mother, please,” she said.

  “She was a comely wench, as I determined, when I saw her naked,” he said. “She was curvaceous, and, when she realized I would not compromise with her, moved quite well. She herself, I am sure, under a suitable master, would have made excellent collar meat. She would also make, it seemed to me, an excellent breeder of slaves.”

  “Was she of Ar?” asked Boabissia.

  “Yes,” he said. “But she was of low-caste origins, of course.”

  “Oh,” said Boabissia.

  “But she had beauty beyond her caste,” he said. “Indeed, I would be surprised if she had not, sooner or later, been caught and collared. She may even now, somewhere, be serving a master.”

  He then looked upon Boabissia.

  “I was only going to offer two tarsk bits for you originally,” he said, “a standard price for a female infant, but after I had seen your mother, seen her fully, and performing, and under the lash, you understand, and considered how you might have something of her beauty, I raised my offer to three.”

  Boabissia nodded, tears in her eyes.

  “Lift your head,” he said.

  “Excellent,” he said. “Had I realized how well you would turn out, I would have offered not three, but five, or even seven, tarsk bits for you.”

  “Am I more beautiful than my mother?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, “and, clearly, even more of a slave.”

  She sobbed.

  He turned to face Hurtha and myself. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I must thank you for returning this girl to me.”

  “It was not really our intention to do so,” I said. “She is surely herself primarily responsible. She saw this place, and, eager to inquire as to her antecedents and connections, entered of her own accord.”

  He turned to Boabissia. “And you have now satisfied your curiosity, have you not, my dear?” he asked. “You have now learned what you wished to learn. You have now discovered your antecedents and connections, so to speak, and your exact place, or, perhaps better put, your exact lack of a place, in civil and social relationships.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “But she has been with you, as I understand it,” he said, turning to us, “and surely it is in your company that she came to Ar.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I thought perhaps it had been a joke on your part, something to amuse you, that you had let her enter here alone, first, before your arrival.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Nonetheless,” he said, “surely some gratuity is in order, for abetting her return.”

  “None is necessary,” I said.

  We looked at her.

  She was still maintaining a position of slave beauty.

  “What do you think she will bring?” I asked.

  “The market is depressed,” he said. “Much of it has to do with the rumored affairs at Torcadino, the purported advances of Cosians, the crowding in Ar, the influx of refugees. But I would think, even so, she might bring two silver tarsks.”

  “A fine price for a girl,” I said.

  “I think she will bring that, even in the current markets,” he said.

  “I had not realized Boabissia was so valuable,” said Hurtha.

  Boabissia glanced at Hurtha, startled.

  It is not unusual, of course, for a fellow to take a woman lightly, or for granted, until he learns of her interest to others, for example, what they are willing to pay for her.

  Boabissia looked away from Hurtha then, swiftly, not daring to meet his eyes. She reddened in a wave of heat and helplessness from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.

  Similarly, it is not unusual for a fellow not to think of a given woman in a sexual manner, or as an object of extreme desire, but when he sees her stripped, and as a slave, that changes instantly and dramatically.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “Be silent,” I said.

  She was beautiful, and her life had changed. She must learn to endure slave scrutiny. Later she would perhaps learn to revel in it, brazenly.

  “I had thought,” said the fellow, viewing her, “that the caravan had been a total loss. I see now that I was mistaken.

  She stood before us, viewed.

  “I lost a mere infant,” he said. “I am returned a beautiful slave.”

  She choked back a sob.

  “Some gratuity, or reward, is surely in order,” he said.

  “None is necessary,” I said.

  “But consider the savings I have effected on feed alone,” he said.

  “Come now,” I said. “Table scraps and slave gruel are not that expensive.”

  “I insist,” he said.

  “As you will,” I said.

  Boabissia regarded me with horror.

  “You are more than generous,” I said.

  “Indeed,” said Hurtha, approvingly. In my palm lay a silver tarsk. I put it in my pouch. Boabissia moaned.

  He then reached to the small bell on his desk, and shook it, twice.

  “I assume,” I said, “in the light of the special circumstances of her case, she is not to be treated as a runaway slave.”

  “No,” he said. “Or, certainly not at present, at least.” Then he looked at the girl. “You do understand, however, do you not, my dear, the typical penalties for a runaway slave?”

  She nodded, numbly.

  “Excellent,” he said.

  “If I may be so bold,” I said, “I would advocate a certain modest latitude, at least for a day or two, in her initial training. You must understand that she has, for many years, regarded herself as a free woman.”

  “Interesting,” he said.

  “Too,” I said, “not only has she regarded herself as a free woman, but she has behaved as one, and has affected the airs of one.”

  “That is very serious, my dear,” said the man.

  At that moment a lithe, sinewy fellow entered, doubtless in response to the sound of the bell a few moments earlier. He whose office it was gestured toward Boabissia. Her hands were drawn behind her, and braceleted behind her back.

  “But she did not understand she was not free, really,” I said.

  Boabissia pulled against the bracelets, weakly.

  “She came here unveiled,” said the man.

  “True,” I said. “But the Alar women do not veil themselves.”

  “She thought she was an Alar?” asked the man.

  “She was accustomed to thinking of herself in that way,” I said.

  “But she should have known from her body she was not of the Alars,” he said. “She is not a tall, strapping woman. Look at her. She is short, and luscious, and cuddly, and exquisitely feminine. That is the body of a woman of the cities or towns, and, if I may note the fact, it is a typical slave’s body.”

  “True,” I said.

  “And what was her attitude toward female slaves?” he asked.

  “She held herself immeasurably superior to them,” I said. “She despised them. She hated them, and held them in great contempt.”

  “Quite appropriately,” he
said. “And how did she behave toward them?”

  “With arrogance,” I said, “and she enjoyed treating them with great cruelty.”

  “I see,” he said. “You may kneel, my dear.”

  Boabissia knelt.

  “Did you never suspect, my dear,” he asked, “that you were a slave?”

  “I did not dream I was embonded,” she whispered.

  “But you were,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “It is an interesting case,” he said, “a female who has been a legal slave unwittingly since infancy, and has only now, in the past Ehn, discovered her true condition.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “But I fear, my dear,” he said, “that you have somewhat misinterpreted my question.”

  She raised her head, regarding him, puzzled.

  “I asked if you had never suspected that you were a slave.”

  She put down her head, reddening.

  “Answer,” he said.

  “Are you speaking of legalities?” she asked, angrily.

  “I am speaking of something far deeper and more profound than legalities,” he said.

  “I do not wish to answer that question,” she said.

  “Speak,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, “I have suspected it.”

  “You have been a slave from the moment of conception,” he said.

  She put down her head.

  “Split your knees,” he said. “More widely.”

  She complied. But then she looked up, half in defiance, half in tears.

  “Yes,” he said, “from the moment of conception.”

  She put down her head again, and sobbed.

  “Leash her,” he said.

  The fellow who had come in, responding to the summons of the small bell, snapped one end of a long slave leash on Boabissia’s throat. The leash is long to permit it being used in a variety of ways, for example, for binding the female or, looped, or loose, for giving her the encouragement of the whistling leather, or, if desired, the administration of more serious lash discipline. She looked up, frightened, knowing herself leashed, and on such a leash. Her eyes met those of the owner of the office.

  “You came here,” he said, “seeking to find out who you were. I trust you now know. Similarly, you came here to find riches, to seek your fortune. I trust you are now satisfied with the riches you have found, slave bracelets and a leash, though, to be sure, they are not yours, and with your fortune, that which you so avidly sought, which proves to be bondage, total and uncompromised bondage.”

  “Please,” she wept, suddenly. “I did not know!”

  “How demanding, how peremptory, and arrogant, and suspicious, you were,” he mused.

  “I am sorry,” she said. “Forgive me, I beg you!”

  “How insistent you were,” he said.

  “Forgive me,” she said.

  “How fearful you were,” he said, “that you might not receive your dues, your just deserts.”

  “Forgive me!” she begged.

  “Lift your head,” he said. “Higher. Higher!” She looked up at him, her head far back, the leash on her throat.

  “I think I promised you that you would receive exactly what you deserved, exactly what you had coming.”

  “Please,” she said, trembling naked before a master.

  “You will receive exactly what you deserve,” he said, “and then even more. And you will get, my dear, not only exactly what you have coming, but that, I assure you, and then a thousand times more.”

  “Mercy, please,” she begged, in her helplessness.

  “And then,” he said, “you will be sold.”

  “Please, no,” she wept.

  “It is amusing,” he said, “that you held slaves in such great contempt, and treated them with such cruelty, for such is what you were all the time, and as such, revealed, in your full truth, you will now live.”

  She sobbed, helplessly.

  “It is interesting,” said the fellow, looking down at the distraught beauty, kneeling before us, almost beside herself with confusion and fear. “I have not seen this female since she was an infant. I remember tying the slave disk, with her number on it, about her tiny neck, opening her blankets that she might be exposed to me while doing so. Now, look at her, a beautifully developed, superbly desirable female slave.”

  “She is indeed beautiful, and desirable,” I said. I had never seen Boabissia look so lovely. To be sure, I had not before seen her truly as what she was, a slave. Slavery, putting a woman in her place in nature, returning her to where she belongs, considerably increases her beauty.

  “Who would have thought,” he asked, “that that infant I bought for only three tarsk bits would have grown into something this marvelous. I am sure that I will be able to get at least two silver tarsks for her.”

  “Doubtless,” I said.

  “An excellent investment,” he said.

  “I agree,” I said.

  “You need not now keep your head in high-harness position,” he said to the girl.

  She lowered her head a little, I think gratefully.

  It is soon uncomfortable, and, after a time, painful, to keep one’s head in the high-harness position.

  As might be supposed there are many varieties of slave harness, and they can serve a number of purposes, from a simple, effective restraint to the infliction of a punishing discipline.

  Females respond well to disciplinary harnessing. They seldom repeat a behavior which has been followed by such a harnessing. Such a harnessing, like the use of the whip, instills in the female a salutary respect for, and fear of, the master. They understand then that they are truly slaves, and that he is truly their master. Some masters use disciplinary harnessing in lieu of the whip. Others, on the other hand, make use of both. A woman in slave harness, incidentally, is very attractive. The harnesses, of course, are designed in such a way as to enhance a woman’s beauty. Some masters enjoy keeping their women in slave harness. Such things are occasionally used in the paga taverns. Most such harnessing is not uncomfortable, and does not impede in any way the girl’s movements, but there are commonly adjustments that may be easily made, with the snaps, straps, clips, and such, which will convert the harness into a device of restraint ranging from nothing much different from a simple braceleting, perhaps a behind-the-back-of-the-neck braceleting, to a complete hand-and-foot immobilization of the device’s occupant. These harnesses are similar to, but are not to be confused with, various other forms of harness which may be used with girls serving as draft animals, for example, fixed between the handles of a peddler’s cart, or drawing, say, a conqueror’s chariot. Sometimes in an ovation or triumph women of the enemy, four or more, naked, preferably of high birth, and ideally the daughters of the conquered ubar, not yet enslaved, are used to draw the chariot of the conqueror. The conqueror holds the reins, and encourages his lovely team with the whip. And the poor women, too, are usually exposed to the hooting, the abuse, the spitting and blows, of the jeering crowds. This sort of thing is also sometimes done, though much less ostentatiously, and without the disparagement of angry crowds, by rich young men who have wooed unsuccessfully in a foreign city. The scornful beauties, abducted, later discover themselves stripped and stabled in his city, and under the care of his grooms. They will be used to draw his chariot, or carry his palanquin.

  They, of course, will be marked and collared.

  That fate, too, of course, as indicated, awaits the women who have been used to draw the conqueror’s chariot. The high women of a conquered city, the daughters of its ubar, and such, must expect to be branded and collared. That is a not uncommon fate in general, of course, for the free women of a fallen city. Sometimes the daughter of a defeated ubar is given as a maid, or serving slave, to the daughter of the conquering ubar. That is a humiliating, and unpleasant bondage. The female serving slave or slaves of a Gorean free woman, on the whole, do not have a desirable lot. Their mistresses commonly keep a close eye
on them, and are likely to punish them severely for what might be regarded as the smallest infractions of perfection in their service, and with a particular ferocity if they are caught so much as looking at a free man or male slave. The female serving slave often serves the free woman as a convenient proxy on which she may cruelly and furiously ventilate her hatred of female slaves as a whole. In denying her slave the expression of her sexuality and womanhood the free woman is perhaps attempting to impose upon her something of her own deprivations and frustrations.

  The man stepped back a bit.

  She looked at him, frightened, his.

  “It has been a long time, my dear,” he said, “but you are now home.”

  She put down her head, sobbing. She had been returned to her master.

  “Stand,” he said to her.

  She stood.

  “You know what to do with her,” he said to the fellow who held her leash.

  “Yes,” said the fellow.

  “Do it,” he said.

  25

  The Tunnels

  “Enter,” said the woman.

  It was now in the evening of the day in which Boabissia had hurried into the house marked with the “Tau” near the call rope. That Tau was the design, or trademark, of course, of Tenalion of Ar, one of the well-known slavers of the city. ‘Tau’ is the first letter of the name ‘Tenalion’. I had recognized it immediately when I had seen it near the call rope. Indeed, it was identical with that on his place of business, which I had passed at various times when in Ar, a large, formidable structure located in the heart of Ar’s slaving district, which housed various facilities pertinent to his trade, ranging from beautifully appointed sales rooms to discipline pits. I had also seen it at different times at the Sardar Fairs, at his display spaces. I had not met him personally, however, until today. He had entertained Hurtha and myself, sharing some fine paga with us, of the House of Temus, my favorite, after Boabissia had been removed from the room, presumably to be transported to his house of business. By now she was doubtless marked and collared, and chained somewhere there, presumably in the lower pens, as she was for most practical purposes a new girl. He seemed a very pleasant fellow. The Tau on Boabissia’s disk had reminded me, I suppose, of his Tau. On the other hand, it had been different, and Tau’s, as other letters of the Gorean alphabet, are used in various designs and for various purposes. I had not realized, of course, that the current design of Tenalion’s Tau had been changed from an older one, that which had appeared on Boabissia’s disk.