Savages of Gor coc-17

by John Norman

  "You are not a wastrel free woman," I said. "You are a slave. You must earn yourkeep."

  She trembled.

  "Why do you think you were purchased?" I asked.

  She put her small hand before her mouth, fearfully.

  "Take your hand away from your mouth," I said. "I would see the lips of theslave."

  Swiftly she lowered her hand.

  "Straighten your back," I said.

  She did so.

  "The free woman," I said, "lies down, and waits to see what will happen. Thefemale slave kneels beside her master, and begs to please him. The free womandeems it sufficient that she should exist, the slave girl, on the other hand, isexpected not only to exist, but to excel; indeed, she fears only, commonly, thatshe may not be sufficiently marvelous for her master. It is little wonder thatmost men find the free woman, in her inertness, her ignorance and arrogance,boring. It is little wonder that most men prefer to order her rival to theirfurs, the helpless, collared, curvaceous, lascivious, feminine slave."

  "I was once a free woman," said the girl.

  "There is hope for the free woman," I said. "She may put in a collar, andstripped, and made subject to the whip. She may then, enslaved, be trained, too,for the pleasure of men."

  "Yes, Master," whispered the girl.

  "Training, then, should not come as a surprise to you," I said. "It is quitenatural for female slaves to be given training."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Expect, then, to be trained," I said.

  "I shall, Master," she said.

  I regarded her.

  Suddenly she flung herself on her belly across the dark blankets. She reached tomy left ankle and holding it with her small hands, began to kiss at my foot.

  "Slaves may beg to please their masters, may they not?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "I beg to please my Master," she said. Her lips were warm and soft on my foot.

  "I am not your master," I said.

  "All free men are my masters," she said, "as all free women are my mistresses."

  "That is true," I granted her.

  "I beg to please you, as my Master," she said, "and, indeed, tonight, in theseblankets, you are my master, for it is you who have opened me and to whom I havebeen consigned in these hours for your pleasure."

  It was true. I was her current use-master. In these hours, in my blankets, shemust be to me as my own slave. In these hours, in my blankets, for all practicalpurposes, I owned her.

  I felt her tongue.

  "Consider me," she whispered, "for your renewed pleasure."

  It is pleasant, as you might well imagine, receiving such attentions from awoman. It is particularly pleasant, I assure you, when she is a slave, for thenshe is owned, and you in do with her what you wish.

  "Please, Master," she begged.

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "Slaves such as I are not trained only by women, are we, Master?" she asked.

  "No," I said. "Many Goreans believe that the finest of slave trainers are men,and that only a man with a whip, and total power over a woman, can properlyteach her to be slave."

  "Do you have a whip, Master?" she asked.

  "My belt will do," I told her.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "But, in my opinion," I said, "This is over simple. I believe that other women,particularly if they are slaves themselves can be superb slave trainers. Manyslave houses, of course, maintain both male and female trainers. My own theorythat if a girl is to have but one trainer, it is doubtless best for that trainerto be a man, for the girl, in her bondage, is a] most certain to have to relateprimarily to men, to please placate and serve them, and so on. On the otherhand, I think it is also undeniable that a girl can learn much from anothergirl, one who has survived, and is surviving, as a slave."

  "Surviving? ' she asked.

  "Yes," I said, "for the slave girls who are not pleasing are commonly killed."

  She put the side of her head fearfully down on my foot.

  "Be pleasing," I told her.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "But most girls," I said, "not only survive as slaves, but thrive as slaves."

  "Master?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said. "You may find this hard to grasp now, but most girls, as you willlearn, once they discover its authenticity and inescapability, blossom joyously,submitted, in their bondage; in it they occupy their place in nature; in it,subject to the authority and power of strong men, owned and mastereduncompromisingly as mere slaves, they obtain their deepest biologicalself-realization, their ultimate fulfillment. In it, in their place in nature,they become women, as outside of it, they cannot. As the true woman is the trueslave, no woman can become a true woman who is not a true slave."

  "Men and women, then," she said, "are not the same."

  "No," I said. "Men are the masters. Women are the slaves. Your world has taughtboth sexes to strive for what are, in effect, masculine, or neuteristic, values.

  This produces unhappiness and frustration for both sexes. Hormonally normalwomen find it difficult or impossible to achieve happiness through the adoptionof, in effect, transvestite values. Similarly this perversion of valuescomplicates or precludes, for the glandularly normal male, the achievement of anatural biological fulfillment. Both sexes, then, frequently fail to obtainhappiness, or fall far short of the happiness of which they are both capable,that happiness which is a consequence of maintaining a biological fidelity totheir separate natures."

  "The lies, the hypocrisies, the pretensions of pseudo-masculinity will not bepermitted to me on Gor, will they, Master?" she asked.

  "Not in the least," I told her, "for you are a slave."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Does this displease you?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "Does it please you?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Even the girl who does not have a female trainer," I said, "will often seek outmore experienced girls, to beg them for their intimate counsels and theirsecrets of love and beauty. Sometimes she purchases these by such tiny gifts, offood and such, as may be within her province, or by performing portions of theother's labors, and so on. Indeed, much of the chitchat of slave girls, in theirgatherings, has to do, in one way or another, with the pleasing of masters."

  It is in our best interest to fulfill our duties well," she said.

  "But the best trainers you will have," I said, "will be your particular masters,and yourself. There is a specific magic, so to speak, and chemistry, betweeneach master and each slave. Each master is different, and, so, too, deliciously,is each Slave. Each master will train his own girl according to his owninterests and tastes, and each girl, in the private and intimate context of theparticular master/slave relation, by means of her intelligence and imagination,owned, will train herself to be his special slave, specifically and personally."

  "I understand, Master," she said.

  "But, even given the uniqueness of each bondage relation," I said, "there arestill certain common denominators in all such relations, which must not be lostsight of, such as the legal status of the slave, that she is, ultimately, onlyan article of property, that she is liable to discipline and punishment, andthat she is totally subject to the will of the master."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "But beyond this," I said, "Beyond the concern with an individual master, youwill learn, more generally, how to be pleasing to men. You may be sold to astranger, or given to one, or fall into the hands of a stranger, or group ofstrangers. You may know little or nothing of your master, or masters, other thanthe fact that he holds total power over you, and he may know little or nothingof you, other than the fact that your lovely hide is marked with the brand ofthe female slave. You thus begin again, anew, your struggle to convince a masterthat there may be some point in keeping you about, that there may be some pointin putting a bit of gruel in a bowl, or hollowed stone, for you, or thrusting acrust of br
ead in your mouth. You attempt to convince him of this, of course,even though he is unknown to you, even though he is a total stranger to you, byserving him, and superbly, as a female slave. Do you understand what I amsaying?"

  "Yes, Master," she said, "that I must learn, in general, how to be pleasing tomen."

  "Yes," I said, "this any slave girl must learn, such things as the kisses, thetouches, the squirmings, the thousand submissions."

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  "But, do not fear," I said, "Such modalities are not learned in vain. They willbe required of you even by a love master, and, indeed, he will doubtless requirethem from you with a harshness, an amplitude and exactness far beyond that of amore casual owner."

  "But, why, Master?" she asked.

  "Because you are," I said, "in the final analysis, as he will wish you toremember, only his slave. Too, do you think he would require less from you, alove slave, than from some more common girl chained at his feet?"

  "No, Master," she said.

  "Are you silent?" I asked.

  "It seems strange to think of serving a love master with the same proficiencieswith which I must serve any other man, as a mere slave," she said.

  "Your skills and talents are surely as much, or more, at his disposal, as theyare at the disposal of any other male," I said.

  "True," she said.

  "Do you object?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said. "I would want to serve my love master, to the best of myability, with whatever skills or talents I might have."

  "And he would see that you do so," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said. Suddenly she sobbed.

  "What is wrong?" I asked.

  "I am so frightened," she said. "This world terrifies me, and on it I am only anaked slave. I do not know what to do. I am afraid. I am so ignorant. I knownothing. I am so frightened. I am only a slave."

  "You speak truly, ignorant slave," I said. Did she expect me to comfort her?

  She turned her head to the side, and laid her left cheek on the blankets at myfeet. "Please put your foot on my neck, Master," she said.

  "I did so, with just enough pressure that she could feel its weight, and that ofmy body.

  "You could now," she said, "with one motion of your foot, kill me."

  "Yes," I said.

  "Please do not kill me, Master," she said. "Instead, take pity on me, I beg ofyou, and find me pleasing."

  I took my foot from her neck. "I shall inspect you," I told her. "You may kneelbefore me."

  Swiftly she rose from her stomach to kneel before me.

  "Knees wide," I told her, "back on heels, stomach in, head high, hands onthighs, shoulders back, breasts thrust out."

  I moved her hair back, behind her shoulders, and smoothed it out. It would not,thus, interfere with my view. I appraised her, slowly, carefully. "It is notimpossible," I told her, at length, "that a man might find you pleasing."

  "Make me please you," she begged.

  "Rather," I said, "I shall permit you to beg to please me, and as a slave."

  "I beg to please you, Master," she said.

  "As a slave?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said, "I beg to please you and as a slave."

  "But you are untrained," I said, scornfully.

  "Train me," she begged, tears in her eyes.

  I regarded her, dispassionately.

  "Train me, Master," she begged. "Train me, please, Master!"

  "Take your hair from behind your left shoulder," I said, "and hold it before,and against, your lips. Part of the hair keep before your lips and against them.

  Another part of the hair, the center strands, take back between your lips, sothat you can feel it on the soft interior surfaces of your lips. A portion ofthis same hair take then back against your teeth, and a portion of that back,between the teeth. Now purse your lips and, while remaining kneeling, rise fromyour heels, and lean forward, gently and submissively."

  And thus began the training of a nameless slave on the plains of Gor.

  In a few moments I thrust her back to the blankets.

  "Do I train well, Master?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said, "Pretty slave. You are an apt pupil, and you train well."

  She snuggled against me.

  "It is a tribute to your intelligence," I said.

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  "And to your genetic predisposition to slavery," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  A woman's acquisition of slave arts follows a steep learning curve, far beyondwhat would be expected was the template, or readiness, for these arts notintrinsic to her nature. She learns them far too swiftly and well not to be, ineffect, a born slave.

  "Oh!" she said, and then I again took her.

  This time the slave squirmings of her, though inchoate and rudimentary, wereunmistakable.

  "How long has it been since you were a virgin?" I asked.

  "A thousand years," she smiled. "I think perhaps ten thousand years."

  "Do you feel now less than you were before," I asked, "less important, somehowless significant?"

  "No," she said, "I feel ten thousand times more important, more significant,than I was before."

  "Virginity, as I understand it, in English," I said, "is sometimes spoken of asthough it might be something which could be lost. In Gorean, on the other hand,it is usually conceived of as something which is to be outgrown, or superseded."

  "Interesting," she said.

  "What, in English," I asked, "is a woman who is not a virgin?"

  She thought for a moment. "A nonvirgin, I suppose," she said.

  "This type of distinction is drawn in various ways in Gorean," I said. "Theclosest to the English is the distinction between "glana' and "metaglana. "Glana' denotes the state or virginity and "metaglana' denotes the statesucceeding virginity. Do you see the difference?"

  "Yes," she said, "in Gorean virginity is regarded as a state to be succeeded."

  "Another way of drawing the distinction is in terms of "falarina', and" profalarina. "Profalarina' designates the state preceding falarina, which isthe state of the woman who has been penetrated at least once by a male."

  "Here," she said, "the state of virginity is regarded as one which looks toward,or has not yet attained, the state of falarina."

  "Yes," I said. "In the first case, virginity is seen as something to besucceeded, and, in the second, it is seen as something which is conceived of asmerely antedating the state of falarina. It takes its very meaning from the factthat it is not yet falarina."

  "Both of these situations are quite different from the English said. "InEnglish, as I see now, interestingly, virginity is spoken of as a positiveproperty, and nonvirginity, in spite of its obvious and momentous importance,and even its necessity, presumably, for the continuation of the species, seemsto be regarded as being merely the absence of a property, or the privation of aproperty."

  "Yes," I said. "It is as though the whole spectrum were divided into the blueand the nonblue. Properly understood the nonblue is every bit as real, and iseven more extensive and variegated than the blue."

  "Yes," she said.

  "It is thus that pathological conceptions, ingrained in common speech, canproduce distorted notions of reality," I said…"I understand, Master," she said.

  "In Gorean, as not in English," I said, "the usual way, however, of drawing thedistinction is in terms of "glana' and "falarina. Separate words, these, areused for the separate properties or conditions. Both conditions, so to speak,are accorded a similar status. Both are regarded as being equally real, equallypositive, so to speak."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Sometimes, metaphorically, in English, however," I said, "a distinction isdrawn between the virgin and the woman, a distinction which is almost Gorean intone. Strictly, of course, in English, one might be both a woman and a virgin."

  "Do Goreans speak freely of these things?" she asked.

  "Free persons do n
ot commonly speak freely of them," I said. "For example,whether a free woman is glana or falarina is obviously her business, and no oneelse's. Such intimate matters are well within the prerogatives of her privacy."

  "Such matters, however, I suspect," she said, "are not within the prerogativesof a slave's privacy."

  "No," I said. "Such matters are public knowledge about slaves, as much as thecolor of their hair and eyes, and their collar size."

  "And my most intimate measurements?" she asked.

  "Public knowledge," I assured her, "if anyone should be interested."

  "What privacy am I permitted, then?" she asked.

  "None," I told her.

  "And what secrets?" she asked.

  "None," I told her.

  "I see," she said.

  "You perhaps now understand, a little better than before; I said," What it willbe to be a slave."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Your opening, for example, is not to be kept a secret," I said.

  "The blood you smeared on my leg will see to that," she smiled.

  "Do you fear the criticism, the derision, or ridicule, of the other girls?" Iasked.

  "I fear only," she said, "that I may not have sufficiently pleased my master."

  "Excellent," I said.

  "As they, too, soon shall fear," she said.

  "Yes," I said. I wondered if she knew how truly she spoke. The girls on a chain,once opened and made to serve, usually begin to compete among themselves, andsoon, to see who can serve the masters best, and those who do not enterearnestly into this competition, it might be mentioned, are usually the first tobe fed to sleen.

  "I was glana," she smiled. "Now I am falarina."

  I put my hand, forcibly, over her mouth. Then I removed it from her mouth. "Suchexpressions," I said, "are commonly to be spoken of, and by, free persons. Theyare not to be applied to slaves, any more than to tarsk sows."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You were white silk," I said. "Now you are red silk."

  "We are not even entitled to the same words as free persons in such matters?" she asked.

  "No," I told her.

  "I understand, Master," she said, tears in her eyes.

  "Even here, however," I said," you will note that both words suggest a similarstatus. Both notions are equally positive, both properties are conceived of asbeing equally real."