Savages of Gor coc-17

by John Norman

  "That is true," she said.

  "To be sure," I said, "white in the context of "white-silk girl' tends less tosuggest purity and innocence to the Gorean than ignorance and naivety, and alack of experience. "Red, in the context of "red-silk girl, on the other hand,connotes rather clearly, I think, experience. One expects a red-silk girl, forexample, not only to be able to find her way about the furs, but, subject to thewhip, owned and dominated, perhaps chained, to prove herself a sensuous treasurewithin them."

  "I am red-silk," she said. "Have me."

  "Perhaps," I said. I began to touch her, gently.

  "Ohhh," she said, "yes."

  "Do you like that?" I asked.

  "Must I respond to such a question?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "I like it." She closed her eyes. "Oh, yes," she said,"I like it."

  "Master," she said, looking up at me.

  "Yes," I said.

  "More than once tonight," she said, "you have mentioned binding, or chaining."

  "Yes," I said.

  "I would fear to be bound or chained," she said.

  "All the more reason to bind or chain you," I said.

  She shuddered.

  "Master," she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Why would you bind a woman who is a slave?" she asked. "She knows that there isno escape for her. She is not going to run away. She knows that you may do withher as you please."

  "It holds her in a given position," I said, "for your leisured work upon herbody."

  "That is true," she said.

  "But the primary reasons," I said, "are, as you might suspect, psychological,both from the point of view of the master and the slave. She, chained, or bound,is helpless. She knows that she might, at the master's whim, be slit like alarma. This increases her terror, her vulnerability, her desire to be foundpleasing. This makes her feel more slave like and, accordingly, more ready torespond to the touch of the master. From the master's point of view, of course,this is also stimulating. It is pleasant for a man to have absolute power over awoman, to have her bound or chained in a position of his choosing, and to knowthat she must submit to whatever be chooses to do to her. In this situation theequations of nature, those of dominance and submission, are intensified. This isfelt by both the master and the slave. Too, to be sure, there is, forphysiological reasons also, commonly, some boosting of the female's responses,as the result of the binding, the restraint. The orgasmic spasms, somewhatrestricted, or, perhaps better, channeled, regulated and controlled, confinedwithin the parameters set by the master, must then seem more intense, moreconcentrated."

  "I see," she whispered.

  "But the main thing, in my opinion," I said, "is the psychological effect on thewoman, the bringing home to her, I in clear, forcible and undeniable terms, thereality of her situation, that she is helpless, that she is at his mercy, thatshe, regardless of her will, is now his to do with as he pleases, that she isowned, that she is his slave, and that he is her master."

  "I would be terrified to be bound," she said.

  I saw that she wished to be bound.

  I continued to caress her.

  "Master," she whispered.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Bind me," she whispered.

  "Do you beg it?" I asked.

  "Yes," she whispered. "I beg to be bound."

  "Kneel," I told her, "quickly."

  Swiftly then did she kneel, and looked at me, frightened.

  "I have changed my mind," she said.

  "Do not break position," I told her.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I went to my saddlebags, with the kaiila saddle, and withdrew two fairly shortlengths of soft, pliant, braided black leather, each about twenty-five inches inlength.

  I pulled back her right wrist a bit and tied it to her right ankle. I left herabout six or seven inches of slack between wrist and ankle. "This is a commonopen-legged tie," I said. "It is not good for general security, but it is agood, and familiar, slave tie." I then fastened her left wrist to her leftankle, as I had done with her right wrist and-ankle. "When finished with you," Isaid', "I might simply bind your wrists behind you and tie your ankles together.

  That is a familiar and effective security tie. If you had not been sufficientlypleasing I might pull up your bound ankles and tie them to your wrists. Yourneck, of course, might always be tied to a stake, or bound to a tree."

  I then stood up and stepped back, to observe my handiwork. "An advantage of thistie," I said, "is that a girt may kneel in it comfortably for hours, perhapsbeside a master's chair, while he works, and is not yet ready for her."

  She pulled a little, almost surreptitiously, at the leather on her wrists,leading back to her ankles.

  "Is this all?" she asked, timidly.

  "I see that there are potentialities of this tie which, as yet, you have notdiscerned," I said.

  I then took her by the hair and threw her forward on the blankets, on her belly.

  "Struggle," I told her.

  She did so, helplessly. Then she ceased her struggles.

  "An interesting perspective on a woman," I said. "Too, bound in this positionshe is seldom in doubt as to the fact that she is a slave. Too, in time, it canbe quite painful." She groaned, and I, mercifully, thrust her to her side. Shelooked up at me, frightened. "Whereas this tie," I said, "is not good forgeneral security, it is quite adequate for specific security, namely, securityin a specific situation, in this case, in the presence of the master or akeeper. For example, under observation, you cannot very well employ your righthand in the attempt to undo the knot on your left ankle. If the tie, of course,is accomplished with chains, then it is also adequate for a general security, anaesthetic and delicious general security, a chain neck leash being added,naturally, to restrict movement." I then put her on her back. Her knees weredrawn up and her hands held helplessly at her sides. "Now," I said, "I think youcan see one of the main virtues of this, tie. The woman is quite helpless,absolutely, and there is not the least impedance to the master's approach."

  She seemed to shrink back in the bonds.

  "Please, untie me," she said.

  I thrust apart her knees.

  "Oh!" she said.

  I held her knees apart, not permitting her to close them.

  "I do not want to be tied like this!" she cried. "I did not know it would belike this. I am too helpless! Please, untie me! Free me! Loosen my bonds! Do notkeep me tied like this! No! Please!"

  I regarded her.

  She looked at me in fear. She squirmed, helplessly.

  "What do you know of me?" I asked her.

  "Nothing," she said, "only that you are my master."

  "What might I do to you?" I asked.

  "Anything," she said.

  I withdrew my hands, permitting her to close her knees, which she did,immediately, clenching them fearfully together.

  "You have tied me like a pig," she said.

  "The pig," I said, "is not a Gorean animal. To be sure, you are trussed ratherlike a she-tarsk."

  "You have tied me, then," she said, "like a she-tarsk!"

  "Do not flatter yourself," I said, "that you enjoy a status as high as eitherthat of the pig or she-tarsk. Your status is lower than that of either. It isthat of the female slave."

  "You have bound me, then," she said, "as a slave!"

  "Now you speak the truth," I informed her.

  "What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

  "Whatever I wish," I said.

  She moaned. She pulled weakly at her wrist tethers, fastening her wrists to herankles.

  "Do you begin to sense now," I asked, "what it might for a woman to be bound bya man?"

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  "Can you escape?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "Are you powerless?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "I am powerless, totally."

  "What will be done to
you?" I asked.

  "I do not know! ' she wept. "I am helpless. I am a slave. I am at your mercy. Itis you who will decide what is to be done with me."

  "Perhaps I will whip you, lashing you with my belt," I said. "Perhaps I willkick you, again and again. convincing you of your worthlessness. Perhaps I shallkneel across your body, slapping you, methodically, again and again, until youbeg for mercy. Perhaps I shall merely, for my amusement, beat you senseless."

  "Please, Master, no," she said.

  "Perhaps it shall be the quirt," I said. "Perhaps I shall us the quirt on you,lengthily, as on a recalcitrant she-kaiila."

  "No, Master," she said. "Please, no, Master! ' "Are you recalcitrant?" I asked.

  "I am not recalcitrant," she said. "I am docile, and obedient. I am ready toplease you, and I desire to please you."

  "Perhaps I will butcher you," I said. "Perhaps I will take you.

  She looked at me, in horror.

  "Would you prefer to be butchered or taken?" I asked.

  "Taken, Master," she said. "I beg to be taken."

  "The taking of a free woman," I asked, "in which, to some extent, her dignity,pride and status are respected, or the taking of a slave?"

  "I am a slave, Master," she said. "I beg that of a slave."

  I looked at her knees, clenched closely together. "Spread your knees apart,widely," I told her.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Now beg," I told her.

  "I beg," she said.

  In moments it was necessary to thrust her hair, balled and wadded, into hermouth, and I put my hand, too, over her mouth. Her eyes were wild. She kickedwildly at the pliant, braided black leather, again and again. Then, mercifully,I unbound her limbs and I let her straighten her trembling in the blankets. Withone finger I pulled the wet hair from her mouth. She was gasping, andshuddering. I held her closely for a few minutes that she might, while thuswarmed and sheltered, make some adjustment to this new dimension, which she haddiscovered in her being.

  "What was it?" she whispered.

  "It was a small one," I reassured her.

  "What was it?" she whispered.

  "It was the first, I think, of your slave orgasms," I said. I then rose from herside and threw her the tiny slave tunic. "Put it on," I said. She did so, and Ithen lifted her gently in my arms and carried her to the chain. I put her downthere, on her side, softly, in the grass. When I lifted the opened collar toplace it about her throat, she put her hands on my wrists, and softly kissed myhands. She looked at me, her eyes wondrous, and soft.

  "I did not know it could be like that," she said.

  "It was only a small thing," I said.

  "There could be more?" she asked.

  "You have not yet begun to learn what it can be, to be a slave," I said.

  She looked at me, frightened.

  I then snapped the collar about her throat.

  "Do you know, ultimately," I asked, "Who will prove to be your one besttrainer?"

  "No, Master," she said.

  "You, yourself," I said, "the girl, herself, eager to please, imaginative andintelligent, monitoring her own performances and feelings, striving lovingly toimprove and refine them. You yourself will be largely responsible for makingyourself the superb slave you will become."

  "Master?" she asked.

  "The collar," I said, touching it, "is put on from without, but what itencircles, the slave, comes from within."

  "Master?" she asked.

  Slavery," I told her, "true slavery, comes from within, and you, my lovelylittle red-haired beast, I assure you, as was evidenced by your behavior andperformances this night, are a true slave. Do not fight your slavery. Allow itfreely and spontaneously, candidly, sweetly and untrammeled, to manifest itself.

  It is what you are."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "It, too," I said, "will save you many bouts with the lash."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I then turned about and left her, on the chain. "Master!" she called, but I didnot turn back. She would stay there, on the coffle, where I bad put her. She wasonly a slave.

  I returned to my blankets and lay down again, to sleep for a few Ehn before thecamp began to stir.

  Nothing of importance had transpired. I had merely done a favor for Grunt, myfriend, opening a slimly bodied, red-haired girl for him, one of his slaves.

  To be sure, she was pretty, and first on the coffle.

  14 It is a Good Trading; Pimples; I Learn Something of the Waniyanpi; CornStalks; Sign; Grunt and I Will Proceed East

  The red-haired girl cried out in pain and fear, struck from her knees back inthe grass by the plump, scornful woman of the red savages, a sturdy-leggedmatron of the Dust Legs. She looked up at her in terror. Slave girls know thatthey have most to fear from free women.

  "Wowiyutanye!" hissed the Dust-Leg woman at the frightened girl lying on herside in the grass before her.

  "Yes, Mistress," said the girl in Gorean, uncomprehendingly.

  The men at the trading point scarcely paid them any attention.

  I sat nearby, a blanket spread out before me, on which I had spread out variousof the trade goods, mostly mirrors, dyes and beads this afternoon, which I hadbrought into the Barrens.

  The Dust-Leg woman threw the girl to her right side in the grass and pulled upthe tunic on her left thigh. The girl, terrified, did not resist. "Inahan!" called the Dust-Leg woman to the others about, pointing to the brand on thegirl's thigh. "Guyapi!"

  "Ho," said one of the men, agreeably. "Inahan," agreed another.

  "Winyela!" announced the woman.

  "Inahan," said more than one man.

  "Cesli!" said the woman scornfully to the girl.

  "Please do not hurt me, Mistress," said the girl, in Gorean.

  "Ahtudan!" cried the woman at her, angrily, and then she spat upon her.

  "Yes, Mistress," said the red-haired girl. "Yes, Mistress!" She then pulled upher legs and looked down, into the grass.

  The Dust-Leg woman turned away from her and came over to where I sat behind theblanket. She beamed at me. The Dust Legs, on the whole, are an affable,openhearted and generous people. They tend to be friendly and outgoing.

  "Hou," said the woman to me, kneeling before the blanket.

  "Hou," said I to her.

  It is difficult not to like them. Most trading is done with them. They tend tobe the intermediaries and diplomats of the western Barrens.

  The woman opened a rectangular hide envelope, a parfleche, slung on a strap overher shoulder. In it were various samples of beadwork and some small skins. Sheput some of these things on her edge of the blanket.

  "Hopa," I said, admiringly. "Hopa."

  She beamed, her teeth strong and white in her broad, reddish-brown face.

  She pointed to a small mirror, with a red-metal rim. I handed it to her.

  I glanced back. Behind us and to the side the red-haired girl, timidly,frightened, had resumed a kneeling position. I do not think that she hadpersonally offended the Dust-Leg woman. I think it was rather that the Dust-Legwoman simply did not entertain any great affection for white female slaves. Manywomen of the red savages, in spite of the wishes of their men, do not approve ofsuch soft, curvaceous, desirable trade goods being brought into the Barrens.

  The Dust-Leg woman carefully examined the small mirror. I looked beyond her, toa few yards away; where several kailla of the visiting Dust-Legs, were tethered.

  There, with the animals, a two-legged one, and lovely legs they were indeed,doubtless by the paws of her master's beast. She wore a brief garment offringed, tanned skin, rent and stained, doubtless a castoff from some freewoman's shirtdress, shortened to slave length. She was wet with sweat and darkwith dust. Her hair, which was dark, was wet, and tangled and matted. Her legs,bloodied and muchly scratched, were black with dust and sweat. Here and thereone could see where the trickle of perspiration had run through the dust. On herthighs where she had rubbed her hands the dust was streaked i
n wet smears. Shehad been run beside her master's kaiila and apparently not slowly.

  Grunt was engaged in conversation with four or five of the Dust-Leg men. Then herose to his feet, and went to his stores, to bring forth a fine hatchet.

  The female slave of the Dust Legs, kneeling by the kaiila, wore a beaded collar,about an inch and a half in height. It was an attractive collar. It was lacedclosed, and tied snugly shut, in front of her throat. The patterns in thebeading were interesting. They indicated her owner. Similar patterns are used bygiven individuals to identify their arrows or other personal belongings. It isparticularly important to identify the arrows, for this can make a difference inthe division of meat. It is death to a slave, incidentally, to remove such acollar without permission. Furthermore the collar is fastened by what is, ineffect, a signature knot, a complex knot, within a given tribal style, whosetying is known only to the individual who has invented it. It is thus, for mostpractical purposes, impossible to remove and replace such a collar without themaster, in his checking of the knot, by untying and retying it, being able totell. Suffice it to say, the slaves of the red savages do not remove theftcollars. The girl kept her head down. She apparently was not being permitted toraise her eyes at the trading point. She might, thus, if the master wished, havecome and gone from the trading point without having seen anything or recognizedanything, unless perhaps the grass between her knees and the paws of hermaster's kaiila. Gorean slaves, incidentally, wherever they may be found, say,in the cities or in the Barrens, are generally kept under an iron discipline. Itis the Gorean way.

  "Two," said the Dust-Leg woman, in Gorean, holding up two fingers. She indicatedthe mirror, now lying before her, and two beaded rectangles, drawn from herparfleche. This type of beadwork is popular in curio shops in certain Goreancities, far from the perimeter; it may also be fashioned by leather workers intovarious crafted articles, such as purses, pouches, wallets, belt decorations;envelopes and sheaths. Interestingly this type of article is more popular awayfrom the perimeter than near it. It is not merely that it is more common nearerthe perimeter but, I think, that it serves as a reminder, near the perimeter, ofthe reality and proximity of the red nations, whereas these same nations, ortribes, far from the perimeter tend to be regarded not only as remote but asalmost mythical peoples. The ear-splitting cry of a Kaiila warrior, for example,has seldom awakened a good burgher of Ar from his slumbers.