by John Norman
"He is having me clean myself," she said to herself, "to take me to his camp, to show me to his people."
Doubtless they would be thrilled to see her.
She felt the leather leash pull on her neck and she stumbled through the water, toward him.
Tree was not fastidious, but he did not wish the female, whom he intended to enjoy, covered with dirt. He did not wish grit between his strength and her smoothness. Too, he was curious about the whiteness of her skin, and wished to see it more clearly. Too, he was learning the female, and he wished, when he had her in his hands, to experience her sweat, her secretions, her odors, freshly broken from her body. A rich dimension of Tree's world was that of scent, which, to modern man would become largely a lost avenue of experience. Brenda Hamilton did not know it but her scent, to those of the Men, was as distinctive as a fingerprint, as individual as the lineaments of her face. Any of the Men, once smelling her, could, even in the darkness of a cave, even if she huddled among other women, find her, put their hands upon her, and pull her out from the others.
Brenda Hamilton saw that her master had already untied the rope from the small tree by the bank.
The rope was looped twice in his hand. He did not retie her hands. He turned about and went back to the place where he had left his accouterments.
She followed him, docile, tethered.
She expected to be led to his camp.
But when he reached his accouterments, he motioned for her to sit down, within the isosceles triangle he had formed of roots, facing the two exposed roots which formed the limits of its base.
She did so, puzzled.
Suddenly he took her wrists and bound them together again, behind her back, tightly, but this time ran the rawhide twice, too, under the exposed root. She was tied half back; she could not sit upright.
She realized then that she was not to be taken immediately to his camp. He had other plans for her.
She struggled.
He removed the rope from her neck and tied it about her right ankle. He then ran the rope from her right ankle under the exposed root at her right, that forming the right termination of the base of the triangle. He then took the rope up and through the exposed root to which her wrists were tied, and brought it down to and under that root which formed the termination of the left side of the triangle's base. He then tied it securely about her left ankle.
"You beast," she hissed.
Old Woman had taught him the tie. The girl is tied down by the wrists, yet able to half rear to a sitting position. If her right leg is extended her left knee is sharply bent; if her left leg is extended her right knee is sharply bent; if tensions are equal, both knees are slightly bent She cannot, in either case, because of the roots, close her legs. She remains deliriously, vulnerably, open to her captor. The tie, by intention, permits her to struggle, but the limits on such movements are so strict, their extent so precisely regulated, that the result of her movements induces in her, almost immediately, as a psychological consequence, a feeling of being trapped, of complete inability to escape, of utter helplessness.
"Beast!" cried Brenda Hamilton. "Beast!"
She struggled to sit up. She realized now she had been forced to wash herself not to be presented to his camp, as a rich prize, but simply that her body would be more pleasing to him. She jerked at the bonds; she moved her legs. She lay back, and moaned. She felt herself being lifted for his penetration.
"I cannot escape," she thought to herself. "I cannot escape!"
"Please don't hurt me," she begged him. "Please don't hurt me!"
She remembered the pain, and closed her eyes, tensing herself, but this time there was no cutting pain, no sharp pain, no tearing of her softness. Her body's resistance had been ruptured. Never again could it oppose itself to a man. She put her head to one side. She was now only another opened woman, no different from any other, once again being used. She felt his manhood, urgent and vital, and gasped as her body, in a shameless spasm, a reflex, closed about him, and he cried out with a sound of animal pleasure that thrilled the womanhood of her to the quick, and then her body was struck by his ten to a dozen times, causing her to lose her breath, almost tearing her from the rawhide bonds, and then, so quick, he had pulled away from her, and stood up, looking down on her, wiping sweat from his upper lip. She looked up at him angrily, fighting for breath. He had finished with her too soon. She felt unsatisfied, cheated. Now, too, she became aware of a soreness, irritation from her earlier penetration. "You could at least let me heal, you beast," she said to him. "What do you care for my pleasure?" she demanded.
But he had turned away from her now, and, picking up his pouch, and his spear, disappeared among the trees.
"Don't leave me!" she cried. "Please don't leave me!"
And as she lay there, tied, she realized that he did not care for her pleasure. It was of no interest to him. And that, if he wished, he would leave her, lying behind him bound, helpless, alone in the forest.
With horror she suddenly understood that she had met a man to whom she was nothing, a man who cared nothing for her will, her desires, her feelings. Her delicacy, her sensibility, were not of interest to him. She knew she could expect nothing from him. From her, she knew, he would expect everything. She lay back, knowing that she was the helpless property of such a brute, and moaned.
When he returned to her the moon was full.
She struggled to sit upright, but could not do so. She rose on her elbows, knees bent, and looked at him.
He carried a fruit, a yellowish, tart applelike fruit, which he held for her. Gratefully she fed on the fruit. When she had eaten around the core he threw the core away. He then gave her a piece of dried meat from his pouch. It was tough and dry, and gamy, but she chewed it, and, with pleasure, swallowed it.
"Thank you," she said.
He then bent toward her, to put his mouth to hers. She shrank back in the thongs. She tried to turn her head to one side, but he held her mouth to his.
Then she understood, suddenly, that he held water in his mouth, that he was bringing her drink.
Lifting her head she took the water from his mouth.
She lay back.
"Thank you," she said.
Tree looked down at her, lying bound in the moonlight.
She looked up at him. It had pleased her to take water from his mouth. She had touched her teeth to his, and they had seemed hard, and strong.
Tree wondered about this woman. She did not kick well. She seemed a cold fish.
"You will learn to kick well," he said to her, "if you would eat."
Brenda Hamilton looked at him blankly.
He looked at her intently. He put his hand gently on her left breast. She was very beautiful this woman. She was more beautiful than the other women in the camp, except perhaps Flower. It was too bad she did not kick well. She would be used to do much work. Perhaps she could be tied at night With Ugly Girl.
He looked down at her.
"You will learn to kick well," he said to Brenda Hamilton. "You will learn to kick well, if you would eat"
15
They were near the village now. She could smell the smoke. She was frightened.
She pulled back on the tether, shaking her head, wildly. "No, please!" she said.
The leather, one end knotted about her neck, the other end in Tree's fist was taut between them.
"No, please," she said.
Tree jerked the rope toward him and Brenda Hamilton stumbled forward, half strangling, and fell on her left shoulder at his feet, her wrists, tied behind her, unable to break her fall. He jerked her to her knees by the leash, at his thigh. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Please do not take me to them," she begged.
He jerked her to her feet and she stood again, his rope on her neck, facing him.
Then he turned and walked toward the village.
She felt the tug of the leash, and followed.
This morning, she had slept, fitfully, twisted on her side, s
till bound as she had been the night before, and then, at dawn, when the dew was still dark on the leaves, and there was only a half light, he had slapped her awake, and her brief dream of clean sheets, and her bedroom in her former apartment ,in California, vanished, and she found herself, face stinging, startled, cold, lying in wet grass, bound in the thongs of a primeval master.
He fed her as he had the night before, and then, when the warmth of the food was in her body, he used her briefly, she weakly trying to resist, knowing its futility, and then unbound her ankles from the roots, freeing his rope. She felt the rope then tied about her throat. He then released her hands from the root and the rawhide thong which, during the night, had so perfectly imprisoned her wrists. She was then led quickly to the stream, and thrust into the water, to wash herself. She shuddered, but cleaned herself. She then felt, again, her hands tied behind her back. He led her again to where he had left his pouch and spear. Gathering these, he had turned and, she following on the tether, had disappeared into the trees.
They had not walked more than half an hour before she had smelled the smoke. She knew his people were near.
She had pulled back on the tether, shaking her head wildly. "Please, no!" she had begged.
She had then been briefly disciplined by the leash, taught its power to control her.
Then she had stood again, facing him, and he had turned and walked toward the village. She, terrified, miserable, obedient now to the leather collar of her leash, followed him. She had no choice.
Four times during the night had Tree used her body, once awakening her to his long, pounding thrusts.
The fourth time, in spite of her stiffness, her soreness, to her astonishment, and fear, she had sensed the beginning of a strange sensation in her body; she did not know whether it was painful or pleasurable; it was very different from anything she had felt before; she was terrified of the sensation, rudimentary and inchoate, incipient, because she sensed that she might be swept helplessly away from herself before it, that it might, if unchecked, transform her from a human person with dignity, though abused, into a degraded, uncontrollable, spasmodically responding female animal. "I must never let them take me from myself," she told herself. "I must always retain my control. I must always keep my dignity. I must always remain an intelligent, self-restrained, dignified human being, a true human person." But she had feared that if the sensation had not been checked, she would have, had his touch continued, been literally forced to succumb to it, that it would have reached a point where she could not have helped herself, that it would have been entirely in his hands. She had sensed then that, had he wished to do so, he could have made her an animal, that animal she feared most to be, a beautiful, helpless, responding female beast, the uncontrollable, yielding prize of a greater, a stronger beast. She had closed her eyes, and turned her head to one side, and gritted her teeth, and fought the sensation, trying to keep her body inert, trying, desperately, not to feel. Then, when she sensed that she would lose the battle, and she wanted to cry out, "Don't stop! Please don't stop!" he had finished with her, and had withdrawn, to roll to one side, to sleep.
"I hate you," she whispered. "I hate you. I hate you!"
Then she had resolved to resist more mightily than ever, to yield never to such a beast, or to others like him. "I will never permit them to rob me of my dignity," she told herself. But she was afraid, for she recalled the beginning of the strange sensation. It kept recurring to her, even as she followed him on her tether, and it made her belly and inwardness grow warm, and excited. Once he stopped and turned and regarded her. She stopped, and looked down, blushing. She had seen his eyes, and the slight flaring of his nostrils. She knew in the heart of her that this strange man, whose very life in this fierce time might depend on the sharpness of his senses, had literally smelled her desire, the secretions-that acknowledged her body's receptivity, its readiness. He had walked toward her. "No," she had said, turning away. "Go away. Go away!" She felt his hand on her, and she shuddered. "Go away!" she cried.
He had turned from her and again taken his way through the trees, she, leashed, following.
"I will resist you!" she cried.
She was furious with him.
Now, outside the tiny village, the trail encampment, Tree, with his caught female, stopped.
He was downwind of the camp, that he might approach it sensing, rather than being sensed. If anything was amiss in the camp, in particular, if there were the odors of strange men, it would be well to know. The Weasel People were enemies of the Men. They and the Men did not sell women or salt to one another. Antelope had originally been of the Bear People. But Wolf and Runner had stolen her from the Weasel People, who had taken her, with others, in a raid. The Men and the Bear People and the Horse Hunters did not steal from one another. They would sell women, or flint or salt to one another. But Antelope was not returned to the Bear People. They had not taken her from the Weasel People. The Men had done this. Besides she was comely. The Men kept her. Antelope did not mind. The Men were fine hunters. She and her friend, Cloud, were often fed by Tree. Both of them were good females, good kickers. The white-skinned slave girl, the girl he had taken in the forest, was a cold fish. But she would learn to kick, if she would eat. Antelope was not kept as a slave. That was because she was of the Bear People, who were friends of the Men. But she was not permitted to return to the Bear People. She belonged, now, to the Men. Though not a slave, the Men kept her as they did the others, as a woman. Ugly Girl was kept as a slave, which was like being the woman of a woman; she was not of the group, or of a friendly group; she was simply slave; the white-skinned female, Tree's catch from the forest, too, was not of the group; she, too, thus, like Ugly Girl, or a girl of the Weasel People, would be kept as a simple slave; she must take orders from anyone in the group; she would be much beaten; she would have no rights, not even the life right, that accorded to members of the group; if she did not work well, or was not pleasing, she might be killed. Tree tested the odors, and found that all was well in the camp.
He would now circle the camp and approach from upwind, that they would know his approach, and that he brought with him a female. That would give the camp time to gather, and greet him. It would please Tree's vanity to bring her in, presenting her as a new slave to the men.
They would be much pleased to see the new acquisition.
In Tree's opinion she was more beautiful than the other women of the camp, with the possible exception of Flower. Tree smiled to himself. He did not think this would make the life of the new slave any easier.
Tree circled about the camp, for what reason Brenda Hamilton did not understand. She thought that perhaps it was customary to enter it from a given direction. But if that were so, why had he approached it from the opposite direction? It did not occur to her at that time that the difference was an important one for Tree, and other Hunters, the direction of the wind.
Soon she heard shouts in the camp, the cries of children and women.
Then, to her surprise, Tree took her in his arms and lowered her to the ground. Then, from his pouch, he took a length of rawhide, similar to that which now so tightly confined her wrists, some eighteen inches in length, and crossed and tied her ankles, tightly. She looked up at him. He then removed his rope from her neck, and, carefully, looped it about his body.
He looked down at her.
His pouch was slung at his side, the rope was looped about his body, some four times, from the right shoulder to the left hip. His spear, hafted, the flint point bound in the shaft with rawhide, lay beside him on the grass.
His legs were long and powerful, and bronzed. He wore a brief skin about his waist. His belly was flat and hard, his chest large, his shoulders broad, his arms long and muscular. He had a large head. About his neck there was a tangle of leather and claws. His dark hair, black, jagged, was cut back from his eyes, and cut, too, roughly, at the base of his neck.
Brenda Hamilton looked up at her master.
Then, lightly,
he picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder.