by John Norman
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"We do not dream of weaklings,” she said. “We dream of masters."
"What you say is true,” said Cabot, “that is, that it is I who should decide, as I wish, and not be forced, or guided, in one way or another, into, or from, channels wrought by others."
"You are Master,” she said. “Not they, whoever or whatever they might be."
"Men are sometimes blinded by their vanity,” said Cabot. “Sometimes they fear being tricked or manipulated, of being lured into pathways and projects not their own. Sometimes they stumble over themselves. Sometimes, too often, I fear, they are their own most grievous foes."
"Sometimes, Master,” she said, “what lies in plainest view, most open to all, is most concealed to some, who refuse to see it."
"I think that is true,” said Cabot.
"A stranger, a bystander, a child, might see such things,” she said.
"Even a slave,” said Cabot.
"Yes, Master,” she said, “even a slave."
"And perhaps particularly,” said Cabot, “one who is keenly motivated, one who fears to be put into the markets, who is reluctant to ascend to the height of the auction block."
"It is true,” she said, “that I hope my master will keep me. I will strive zealously to please him."
"Why do you wish to be kept?” he asked. “Perhaps you fear being exhibited naked, under the torches, standing in the sawdust of the block, being bid upon, being displayed by the auctioneer?"
"Perhaps, Master,” she said.
"Millions of women, in numerous cultures, on various worlds, have had this experience,” said Cabot, “some of them several times."
"Yes, Master."
"The female is a familiar and popular commodity,” said Cabot.
"I know enough of the history of Earth,” she said, “to be well aware of the market value of my sex."
"And if you knew more of Gor,” he said, “you would be even more clearly aware of it."
"My master may exhibit me, and put me up for sale,” she said. “I know that. But I hope he will not do so."
"Why?” he asked.
She looked away. “Please do not make a slave speak,” she said.
"You need not speak,” he said.
"Thank you, Master."
"I think I should lash you,” he said.
"Please, do not, Master,” she said.
"I do not think men alone are plagued by such self-deceit,” said Cabot.
"No, Master,” she said, “I knew long I was a slave, before I was knelt before masters. Thousands of times I screamed aloud in my mind against the quiet, insistent whisper, the amused, mocking whisper, which came, again and again, from the mind beneath my mind. ‘You are a slave,’ it said. ‘Do you not know it? Look in the mirror! Strip yourself and kneel. Do you not see a slave there, and it is you who are the slave!’ Long I denied the needs of my belly. Long I fought my heart's pleas! And then, strangely, fragments and planets away from Earth, in a cylindrical world, a world made of steel, I found my lips pressed at last to the whip. It was there I was rightfully knelt."
"As you should have been, on Earth,” he said.
"Yes, Master,” she said.
"In a way,” said Cabot, “one could see all this as a splendid joke."
"Master?"
"In attempting to manipulate me,” he said, “they, whom you need not know, for you are a slave, they, in all their wisdom and cunning, may have succeeded in little other than putting in my way a pleasant little slave, one on whose neck my collar looks well, and with whom I may do as I please."
"Master?” she said, suddenly frightened.
"For that is all you are, now, in my view,” he said, “a pleasant little slave."
"Surely more than that, Master!” she wept.
"To be sure, one who is nicely curved."
"Master!” she protested.
"You do have nice slave curves, Cecily,” he said.
"Surely I am more to you than just any slave!” she said.
"Why?” he asked.
"Have we not been matched?"
"Certainly,” he said.
"Have I not been selected, with you in mind?” she said.
"Yes,” said he, “and my thanks to those who have done so."
"Surely, then,” she said, “I am not just another slave to you!"
"You have been nicely selected,” he said. “And that is very nice. Certainly I appreciate that. Who would not? But when all is said and done, that is all you are, just another slave to me."
"Please, no, Master!” she wept. “Please, no, no, Master!"
"Perhaps you understand better now, what it is to be a slave."
"Master!"
"Get up,” he said. “The feast is not yet done. Return to your serving."
"Master!"
"Now."
"But my needs, Master!” she wept.
"Needs?” he asked.
"My needs, my slave needs!” she cried. “Please! Be kind! Have mercy! Surely you have some sense of my misery, what I feel! I am only a slave! Is it not you who put slave needs into me? Is it not you who have done this to me? Do you think I am any longer a free woman? I am not! I am a slave! I beg you! Be kind! Please be kind to me! If nothing else, touch my arm, my hip, my thigh, that I might cry out, and weep!"
"Resume your service, slave,” he said. “Now."
"Yes, Master,” she wept, and leapt up, and hurried to resume her duties.
"Paga!” called a fellow.
"Yes, Master!” she wept, and went to the vat, to obtain a pitcher.
It was something like an Ahn later, and more than one fellow had retired from the circle, to his blankets.
Cabot had watched the brunette in her service. Her movements now were stiff, almost wooden. Tears had coursed down her cheeks. She did not meet his eyes. He did not summon her to him.
Only seven or eight fellows, mostly half asleep, were still about the fire. Some three slaves were about, in case anything might be needed.
Corinna, who had remained at service, looked to Cabot, and he nodded.
Corinna then fetched a goblet of paga, and went to the brunette slave, and spoke to her. The brunette shook her head piteously, negatively, but Corinna was firm, and was not to be gainsaid, and pressed the goblet into her hands, and indicated Cabot.
The brunette approached Cabot, and knelt before him. She lifted the goblet toward him, holding it in both hands. Her head was down, between her extended arms.
"Wine, Master?” she said.
"It seems paga,” said Cabot.
The slave looked up, and drew back the goblet a bit.
"We have no wine,” she said.
"That is known to me,” said Cabot.
Again she put down her head, and offered the goblet.
"Wine, Master,” she said.
"You understand this, do you not?” asked Cabot.
"Yes, Master,” she said.
"You offer me your wine,” said Cabot.
"Yes, Master,” she said. “But reject my wine, as I know you will. Do not play longer with me. I have suffered enough. I know now you despise me. You have not touched me. I know I am only an ignorant Earth-girl, who finds herself unaccountably in a man's collar. I cannot dance. I do not know the kisses. I cannot compete with the Corinnas of the camp. I am not Gorean. I am only an ignorant Earth girl."
"You might try to interest me,” said Cabot.
"Please do not mock me,” she said.
"Kiss the goblet,” said Cabot, kindly. “Lingeringly. And regard me while you do so. Now lift your head and touch the goblet, lightly, to your collar, so that you hear the sound."
"Please do not make me do these things!” she said. “You do not know what it is doing to me, how it makes me feel!"
"You have lovely breasts,” said Cabot. “Now touch the goblet lightly to each of them, first the left, then the right. Make certain you clearly feel the touch, pressing it in a bit."
&nb
sp; "Master!” she protested.
"Now lower the goblet to your belly,” he said, “and, while first looking at me, and then, secondly, down to the goblet, press the rim into your belly, firmly."
Tears coursed down her cheeks.
"You may now,” he said, “offer me wine."
She then put her head down, again, between her extended arms, the goblet grasped with both hands.
"Wine, Master?” she said.
Cabot did not respond, and the slave kept her head down.
"I offer you my wine, Master,” she said. “Please accept my wine, Master. Please, Master, accept my wine!"
She gasped as Cabot, gently, took the goblet from her hands. She looked up at him, lips trembling, tears in her eyes. He took a tiny sip of the drink, and then handed the goblet to a fellow next to him, who seized it gratefully, groggily, drunkenly.
"You stupid girl,” called Corinna to her, laughing, from across the fire. “Hurry to his blankets!"
The slave sped into the darkness.
Cabot rose, and went to his blankets, where the slave, in the darkness, was waiting for him.
He took the slave in his arms.
"Choose me, choose me,” she begged.
"Perhaps,” he said.
She lifted her lips to his.
"What are you?” he asked.
"Kajira,” she whispered. “ Kajira, Master."
"Anything else, or other, or different?” he asked.
"No, Master,” she said. “Kajira, only kajira."
"Good,” he said. “That is how we want women."
"And that,” she said, “is how men such as you will have us, and how we would be!"
"Speak,” he said, softly.
"La kajira,” she said. “ La kajira!"
"I am a female slave,” she said. “I am a female slave!"
"I am a slave girl,” she said. “I am a slave girl!"
"And whose?” he asked.
"Yours, Master,” she said. “Yours, Master."
Chapter, the Eightieth:
THEY WILL SOON TO THE TABLES
"My dear Cabot,” said Lord Arcesilaus, “it is so good to see you again, here in the habitats. We have missed you. Lord Grendel returned a few days ago. And there you are, Peisistratus! I see you have several of your fellows with you. I take it you know our colleague and ally, Lord Zarendargar. I gather you, with others, and friend Zarendargar himself, and his people, will soon be leaving us, returning to your various duties and destinations. You and your ships, Peisistratus, of course, may continue to wharf upon our shores, as you wish, for purposes of shelter, supplies, repair, the temporary housing of your goods, or whatnot. Many of your men have been anxious about you, and have earnestly inquired as to your whereabouts. You passed a few days, as I understand it, in the quiet of the forests. It is perhaps just as well. I almost envy you. The festival days are now, as you know, drawing to a close, and it will be a good thing, as I see it, to return to some congenial normality, here. Certainly we will welcome some quietude, after the tumult of the festivals. Matters go well in the agricultural cylinders, and in the industrial cylinder. They were little affected, if at all, by our recent difficulties. Arrangements have been made for various transportations and relocations."
"Where is Lord Grendel?” asked Tarl Cabot.
"He will be here, shortly,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “I have asked him to drop by."
This conversation, and meeting, was taking place outside the palace, on its broad porch, to which led a long flight of wide stairs, some fifty yards in width. The palace grounds themselves were within high walls, but the great gate was now opened, and humans, and Kurii, might come and go within the grounds, and gardens, as they wished.
"I would like to do something nice for Lord Grendel,” said Lord Arcesilaus to Cabot. “What would you suggest?"
"He is muchly concerned with administrative duties, and such,” said Cabot. “I fear there is little in which he would be interested, in the way of emoluments."
"His contributions have been richly recognized, and in detail,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “Without him and his services the world would have been much different from what it is. He has been given several rings."
"He deserves much,” agreed Cabot.
"But he seems little impressed with our gratitude,” said Lord Arcesilaus.
"He is mindful, and grateful, I am sure,” said Cabot, “but he has, for some time, been saddened, and much distressed."
"Surely it has nothing to do with the triviality of his small pet's fate, anything so unimportant?” said Lord Arcesilaus.
"She is not his pet,” said Cabot, “though I can see how you might think of such things, in particular, since she was once your pet. She is, to be precise about the matter, if I may, not his pet, but a free woman."
"Very well,” said Lord Arcesilaus, agreeably. “Very different then, from these others?"
"Yes,” said Cabot, “but these others, to whom you refer, these human females, kneeling, tunicked, and collared, are not pets either. They are less than pets. They are slaves."
There were several such amongst the men. Two we are familiar with, one who had been named ‘Corinna', who was the slave of Peisistratus, and one who had been named ‘Cecily', who was the slave of Tarl Cabot. Both were tunicked rather briefly, as human males like to see the legs of their slaves.
Tarl Cabot had been offered as much as three silver tarsks for his Cecily, but he had chosen, as yet, not to sell her. He was perhaps waiting for a better offer, on Gor.
She knelt at his thigh, and occasionally pressed her cheek against it. He shoved her away.
Enamored slaves can sometimes be a nuisance.
How helpless they are, once well mastered.
It might also be mentioned that some Kur females were present, kneeling. They wore harnesses, but, too, metal collars were on their necks. It seemed that several of the suggestions and innovations of Lord Zarendargar, in the matter of handling female Kurii, had been implemented. The bondage of some Kur females was now public. No longer was it a secret, though suspected, thing, found amongst isolated Kurii. Already several had been attacked by enraged free female Kurii, which attacks, as they were slaves, they were not permitted to resist. Having the slaves publicly recognizable, of course, delighted male Kurii, for they might now look lustfully upon them, desire them, make offers for them, and so on. Soon, Cabot had heard, there would be a slave market for such established on the world, and soon thereafter, he supposed, some of these slaves, doubtless in chains, would be carried to others of the steel worlds, and then it would be but a matter of time until the useful and practical, and delicious and prized, institution of female slavery would be as familiar and popular on the steel worlds as on Gor itself.
Male Kurii had chosen to act.
No longer would they content themselves with less than the men of Gor.
"Have some Kurii departed from the world, for Gor, recently?” asked Cabot.
"Yes,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “Some before your return, some afterwards. They were former adherents of Lord Agamemnon, and so it is perhaps just as well for the world, that they take their departure."
"Where is Lord Agamemnon?” asked Cabot.
"He is in the palace,” said Lord Arcesilaus.
"Have no fear,” said a Kur. “He has no body."
"Friend Cabot,” said Zarendargar, “sometime before we part, before we diversely take ship, perhaps this evening, I would enjoy speaking with you."
"That would give me great pleasure,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps we might once again share paga."
"That would give me great pleasure,” said Cabot.
"Look,” said a Kur. “Lord Grendel, I believe, is approaching the gate."
"Excellent,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “We may all go in then, soon, to what I have had prepared, a state breakfast."
"May the slaves come?” asked one of the men of Peisistratus.
"Certainly,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “They
may kneel behind you, or to the side, and you may, if you wish, feed them, or throw some food to the floor for them, whatever you wish."
The throwing of food to the floor for an animal, incidentally, is not that unusual. For example, it is commonly done with sleen. Slaves, too, may be fed by hand. Usually they have their food in a dish. Often they may feed from the dish much as a free person would, though their head is usually to be lower than that of their master. For example, if the master sits upon a bench at table, his dish will be upon the table, whereas the slave's dish, as she kneels near him, is likely to be on the bench itself; similarly, if the master reclines on a supper couch, the slave, kneeling, is likely to have her dish upon the couch's step, where footwear may be placed. Sometimes the slave's food and water dish is placed on the floor, and they must partake, heads down, on all fours, without the use of their hands, rather as would a sleen, another form of domestic animal.
This is not uncommon in the training of a new girl.
It helps her to understand that she is a slave.
As the inquiry of the man of Peisistratus might have seemed to some readers somewhat anomalous, it should be mentioned that on Gor slaves are not permitted in many public buildings, rather as other animals would not be permitted in them. Accordingly, public slave rings are frequently available in piazzas, plazas, squares, forums, agorae, and such, and along public streets, for the convenience of masters, to which their slaves may be conveniently chained. One sort of building in which slaves are never permitted, and may be slain if found within, are temples. It is felt by Initiates, the alleged representatives and servants of Priest-Kings, understandably enough, that the presence of a slave in such a place would be a profanation of sacred precincts. Provisions are made for their caging or chaining outside such places, in nearby lots, removed to a decent distance.
"Lord Grendel was somewhat distressed at the disfigurement of his pet, as I understand it,” said Lord Arcesilaus.
"At the gross tearings and multiple mutilations of the free woman, Bina,” said Cabot.
"Yes,” said Lord Arcesilaus, “that is it."
"You are from Earth, are you not?” asked a Kur.
"Yes, once,” said Cabot.
"If those of Earth, or Gor, wished to bother with such things, despite their unimportance,” asked the Kur, “how might they address themselves to the business?"