Fighting Slave of Gor coc-14

by John Norman

  I followed the double coffle on its left, for it was on the left side of her body that the exquisite, dark-haired girl's short, loose silk had been hitched up, baring her branded thigh to the hip. I observed her in the coffle, neck-chained, her small wrists, above the rounded flesh of her palms and below the sweet, rounded flesh of her small forearms, locked in the steel of slave bracelets. She was surely the most exciting, and desirable and beautiful woman I had ever seen. Earlier I had been almost stunned with the sight of her beauty.

  I smiled to myself.

  I now knew who owned her, Oneander of Ar, a merchant who apparently did business in Vonda. It would have been in Vonda, I supposed, that he had purchased her. It seemed a shame that he apparently kept her primarily as a display item. Perhaps, upon occasion, he used her, and the other girls, or had them thrown to his men. I wondered if she would make a good love slave. I supposed not, for she was of Earth. It was difficult to imagine her kneeling before a man, helplessly aroused, weeping, begging to be raped.

  I drifted about, to the right side of the coffle lines, and stopped, watching the lines, chained behind the palanquin, making their way down the street.

  I saw the blond-haired girl, the last one in the right-hand coffle line, turn about, in her chain and collar. She was curious, apparently, to see if I still followed. She smiled. I grinned at her. I had made her use the word 'Master' to me. Then she looked ahead again. But her body moved, suddenly, as that of a slave girl. I smiled. She might once have been free but now, clearly, she was only a slave. She was aroused. When she returned to the house of her master I had little doubt but what she would kneel to the nearest keeper and beg to be used, perhaps to be given for an Ahn, hooded, to the male slave of his choice.

  I stood on the stones of the avenue of the Central Cylinder. I looked after the palanquin, with its twin chains of enslaved beauties.

  I considered, again, the small, exquisite, dark-haired girl. I had never expected to see her again. Then I had done so. What a transformation had been wrought in her. I had been almost overcome by her beauty. I could not drive it from my mind.

  I reminded myself, interestingly, that Earth women were imported to Gor doubtless precisely to be love slaves. I wondered if Gorean men knew something interesting about the women of Earth that the men of Earth did not know.

  The palanquin, with its chained girls, had now disappeared down the street.

  The dark-haired girl on Earth, of course, had been extremely beautiful, but her beauty then, considerable though it might have been, could not even have begun to bear comparison with what it now was. I stood upon the street, recollecting her with astonishment. I would never have dreamed she could have become so delicately and incredibly beautiful. It seemed almost incomprehensible to me. It was the first time, of course, I had seen Beverly Henderson, of Earth, as a slave girl.

  Then I turned about, to hurry back to the shop of Philebus.

  "Jason! Jason!" cried the Lady Florence, angrily. "Where have you been?"

  I quickly knelt before her, head down.

  "Down the street, Mistress," I said.

  "Look at yourself!" she cried. "You have been fighting!"

  I glanced quickly at the silk slave fastened by the neck to the slave ring on the other side of the girl at the nearer ring. He grinned at me. I realized he must have told Lady Florence all that had occurred.

  "I cannot leave you alone for a moment!" said the Lady Florence. "You have kept me waiting! I cannot turn my back for an instant but you are in trouble. Do you not know I have been finished shopping for a quarter of an Ahn!"

  "No, Mistress," I said.

  "He ran away," said the male silk slave.

  "No," I said. "I was just down the street."

  "Did you rape this poor slave?" demanded the Lady Florence, angrily gesturing to the leashed girl at the ring.

  "Forgive us, Mistress," begged the girl, who was kneeling and trembling. She put her head down as far as she could, given the leash and collar.

  "I took her," I admitted.

  "Took her!" cried the Lady Florence.

  "She was thirsty," I said. "She wanted water. I made her pay for it with her use."

  "Beast!" said the Lady Florence.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Your tunic is torn," she said. "You are bloody. Are you hurt?"

  "No, Mistress," I said.

  She spun to face the girl at the ring, who trembled. "You sold your use for a drink of water?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

  "Slut!" cried the Lady Florence.

  "Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

  "Low, disgusting slaves!" said the Lady Florence. "How fit that you should be in collars!"

  "He accosted a slave girl in a retinue, too," volunteered the silk slave at the ring on the other side of the girl. "It was there that he was fighting."

  "I do not know what I am going to do with you, Jason," said the Lady Florence. "You did not wait for me here. You abused this poor girl. You accosted a strange slave. You have been fighting. Your tunic is soiled, and torn, and bloody. It is almost too much!"

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Do you think that you are a quarry slave, or a draft slave?" she asked.

  "No, Mistress," I said.

  "I am a lady," she said. "And you are a lady's silk slave!"

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Have no fear but what you will be well punished when we return to Venna," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "It will be close chains for two days for you," she said.

  I would not look forward to that. Usually, in close chains, the wrists and ankles are chained closely together. Over a period of time this builds up, understandably, a considerable amount of body pain. Usually after only five Ahn in close chains a girl is ready to serve delightfully and willingly.

  "Do you understand, Jason?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  I glanced at the male silk slave, who was sitting on the walk, coupled by his neck to the ring behind him, smiling. I wanted to break his face.

  "Bring the tharlarion, Jason," said the Lady Florence.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  In a few moments I had freed and fetched the tharlarion.

  I felt a chain leash snapped about my throat. The Lady Florence put it there. The other end was attached to her stirrup. "I am afraid this is necessary, Jason," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Help me into the saddle," she said. I lifted her sandaled foot upward, and she took her place in the leather seat at the side of the tharlarion's back. It has stirrups, into which I helped her place her feet, but it is not exactly a saddle as those of Earth would think of one, even of the sort usually designated as a sidesaddle. It is somewhat more in the nature of a stirruped seat. It is at the height of the beast's back, cushioned, held there by straps. She hooked herself into the seat, or, if one prefers, saddle. As I had lifted her into the seat I had seen her ankle. It was a good one, as I knew. I had never held her in my arms. When she used me, as she did frequently, I was chained on her couch.

  "Philebus!" she called.

  A man, accompanied by a servant, appeared at the door of the shop. He was balding, and benign. A servant, behind him, carried several packages. I lifted the reins of the tharlarion to the Lady Florence.

  "Thank you, Jason," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  I looked at the eyes of Philebus. His eyes were troubled. The servant came out on the walk and handed me several packages. He looked at me, irritably. "Thank you, Master," I said to him.

  "Good, Jason," said the Lady Florence.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "I wish you well, Lady Florence," said the shopkeeper.

  "I, too, wish you well, Philebus," she said. Philebus was actually of Turia. He managed his shop, however, in Ar. He had lived in Ar for several years.

  The Lady Florence guided her tharlarion
out into the street. I accompanied her, carrying the packages, chained by the neck to that stirrup in which was placed her left foot. Her body was turned somewhat in the saddle, so that she might the more easily guide the beast she rode.

  "You embarrassed me today, Jason," she said.

  "Forgive me, Mistress," I said.

  "Did you truly use the slave girl at the ring?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Disgusting," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Did you use her," she asked, "--as a slave girl?"

  I thought about the matter. "Yes," I said.

  "Ah," she said. She looked down at me. It was not easy to read her eyes.

  Then she looked away, again guiding the tharlarion. "What of the little slut in the retinue?" she asked.

  "Mistress?" I asked.

  "Was she pretty?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Was she in coffle?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "How is it then that you, a slave, dared to speak to a girl in coffle?" she asked.

  "I did not know it might not be permitted," I said.

  "It is fortunate that your tongue was not cut out," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Did you know her?" she asked.

  "I had known her on Earth," I said. "We are now both slaves."

  "Of course," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Jason," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "We are leaving Ar tonight, not tomorrow, as I had planned."

  "Why, Mistress?" I asked.

  "I spoke to Philebus," she said. "He advises me to leave the city soon. I fear there may be trouble between Ar and the Salerian Confederation."

  I nodded. I had gathered that there might be trouble brewing. I myself had seen the movement of troops.

  "You would not like to see me in a collar, would you, Jason?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

  I did not respond.

  "Jason?" she asked.

  "I think you would be very beautiful in a collar, Mistress," I said.

  I saw her hand reach for a quirt at the side of the saddle, but then she did not grasp it. She put back her head, and laughed, merrily. "You are a beast," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "We will leave the city within the Ahn," she said, "by the great gate."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  Chapter 14 - A MISTRESS EXPRESSES CURIOSITY AS TO THE TOUCH OF MEN; A MISTRESS COMMANDS HER SILK SLAVE TO TAKE HER IN HIS ARMS

  "Is that you, Jason?" she asked, not turning to look.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said. She knew that it was I. She stood on the wide balcony, with its low balustrade, outside her chamber. I stood within the chamber. We were within her house in the resort city of Venna, noted for its baths and tharlarion races. It was early evening.

  She turned, and entered the chamber. I knelt, in silk.

  "Am I pretty?" she asked. She turned before me, the gown of sheer, scarlet silk, almost diaphanous, like slave silk, swirling about her.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said. She was indeed pretty, even beautiful. She was some five feet five inches in height and sweetly figured. Her face was rounded, rather oval. Her eyes were blue; her hair, which was long, and now unbound, was auburn.

  "You are even beautiful, Mistress," I said.

  "How obsequious are silk slaves," she laughed, but was pleased.

  "It is true, Mistress." I said. It was true.

  "Do you like the gown?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "I thought you might like it," she said. "I purchased it at the shop of Philebus, in Ar."

  I thought that might be true. I had not seen it before.

  "Do you think it is too much like--like slave silk?" she asked.

  "I do not know, Mistress," I said.

  She laughed.

  We had been in Venna now for five days. Two of these days I had spent in close chains, being punished for my behavior in Ar. I was still somewhat sore. This was the first night, since our return to Venna, that she had commanded me to her chamber.

  My relationship with the mistress, interestingly, was now somewhat different than it had been before our trip to Ar. Though she had professed distress at my actions and had subjected me to appropriate discipline, I sensed that she was not entirely displeased with me. She was rather proud, I think, though she would not have admitted this, to be the mistress of a possibly unruly slave. That I had been a bit forward and rowdy, I think, had pleased her.

  She did not fear me, personally, of course, for I was her slave. Once, after our return to Venna, I had heard her discussing me with some of her women friends. "Are you not afraid to own such a slave?" asked one. She had laughed. "I keep him on his knees," she had said.

  Another time, in the halls, she had passed me while I was polishing a large, brass vase. Two slave girls, too, owned by my mistress, barefoot, in collars and tunics, had been in the vicinity, chatting, balancing wicker laundry baskets on their heads. "Better keep the slave girls away from this one," she had said to a nearby keeper, indicating me. They had laughed. It had been a joke, of course. To so much as touch one of the mistress' slave girls without her permission could be punishable by death. Yet I thought it of interest that the mistress had made the joke. She was not truly displeased, I think, that I had misbehaved in Ar. The girls had then, the baskets on their heads, laughing, fled away. Their bare feet had pattered on the tiles. The one on the right, Taphris, short-legged and luscious, was not without interest.

  "Rise, Jason," said my mistress.

  I rose to my feet. I reached to my tunic, to discard it. "Shall I take my place on your couch, Mistress?" I asked. I glanced at the broad, furred couch, and the cunning chains upon it, which had so often confined me for her pleasure.

  "No," she said. I could not read her expression. Standing, of course, I towered over her. I dropped my hands, leaving the tunic alone.

  "Jason," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  She turned away from me, and went out onto the balcony. The three moons were now high. We could hear insects in the hedged gardens beneath and beyond the balcony. We could see the lights of Venna, too. The baths were still open. The house of the Mistress was in the Telluria section, which is in the northwest part of the city, on a hill. It is the preferred residential section of Venna. The house, situated as it was, provided us with a lovely panorama of the small city.

  "Jason," she said, not looking back, "come with me out upon the balcony."

  I joined her on the balcony, near the balustrade.

  "I am very rich, Jason," she said, "but, too, I am very lonely. Too, I am restless. I do not know why."

  I did not speak. Mistresses, I knew, often spoke intimately to their silk slaves.

  "I am certain that there are needs in me, longings," she said, "which are not satisfied."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "But I do not know, truly, what they are," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "I know only that I am desperately unhappy," she said.

  "I am sorry, Mistress," I said.

  "I saw the coupling of sleen today," she said. "The female fought. Then the male seized her by the throat with his fangs. She became immediately docile. Soon she writhed in heat. I have seen the male urt drive his female into a corner, whence soon she squeals with pleasure. The female larl, her flanks bleeding, yields to the male, after which she bears his young and hunts for him. The verr and bosk select out the females that please them and herd them to the place of their choice." She looked out, bitterly, over the gardens. "In all these relationships," she said, "it is the male, always the male, who is master. And the females, disgustingly, do not seem discontent. What is the meaning of it?"

  "I do not know, Mistress," I said.

  "Today," she said, "I saw slave girls, meaningless sluts in c
ollars, with scarcely a rag to cover their nakedness. They seemed joyful and happy! What is the meaning of it?"

  "I do not know, Mistress," I said.

  "Nor I," she said, bitterly. She looked out over the gardens. "They are slave, and are happy," she said. "I am free, and am unhappy. I do not understand it."

  I said nothing.

  "No one is concerned to make them happy," she said. "It is they who must make others happy. It is they who must yield, and obey, and serve, and love and be pleasing."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "So why, then," she asked, "should they be happy, and I not?"

  "I do not know, Mistress," I said.

  "I am advised, Jason," she said, "by certain of my friends to accept a companion."

  "I did not know that," I said.

  "Many men, young and rich, have desired to become my companion. Such matches, in many cases, would profitably increase our common holdings. Yet I have until now, at least, turned them all away. I have remained independent."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "I have seen many companionships," she said. "Yet more often than not I have seen the male companion keep sluts of slave girls on the side, and, I think, it is only those sluts he cares for." Her voice was bitter. "Why," she asked, "should a man forsake a noble companion, serene and beautiful, independent and regal, for a slut in a steel collar who will crawl to his feet and beg to lick them with her tongue?"

  I did not speak.

  "Beast!" she said.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "How I hate men!" she cried.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "Yet," she said, "they stir me. Oh, I do not mean you, Jason, a silk slave, but true men."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  She continued to look out over the gardens. "They disturb me," she said. "They make me uneasy."

  I said nothing.

  "I am curious about them," she said. "I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like to be naked in their arms."

  I did not speak.

  "I have never been in the arms of a man, Jason," she said. This did not, truly, surprise me. She had used me many times, of course, but she had never permitted me to hold her in my arms. I had, of course, under her direction, kissed, licked and caressed her. I had given her much pleasure but she, a woman of lofty position, of high social station, rich and free, had never let me hold her. It had been one of the enraging frustrations of my slavery that I had never been permitted, truly, to hold a woman and subject her to my will. The only girl I had truly had on Gor was a slave who had been leashed to a ring outside the shop of Philebus in Ar. It had been a joy to have her. I did not even know her name, or master, nor had she known my name or the name of my Mistress. We had been only two slaves, one leashed and tied, coupling in the shadow of a slave ring on a hot day in Ar.