by John Norman
In a few moments I went to the sewing cabinet. The scissors were on their peg. I counted the needles. Five had been returned to the pin cushion. And the five spools of thread, I counted them, were residing on their spool spindles. I shut the sewing cabinet. Barus locked it. He picked up the folded girth cloths from the table near the window. "I shall meet you in the incubation shed," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"On your feet," I said to the girls.
Taphris looked over her shoulder to Barus. "Surely," she said, "I am not to be chained."
He thought for a moment. He shrugged. He nodded at me. "Do not chain her," he said, "at least for the time." If she were chained, held by her collar in the kennel, confined by a linkage of steel, how could she keep her eye on me?
She tossed her head. "I am an exception," she said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"The rest of you," I said, "to your kennels, hurry!" I clapped my hands.
"Yes, Master," said the girls, with the exception of Taphris, scurrying from the sewing shed.
I glanced at the sun. They would be in the kennels well before the fifteenth Ahn.
I snapped the heavy lock, on its chain, on the collar loop of Tuka.
The girls had hurried to their kennels before me. When I arrived there I found them waiting, kneeling on the boards of their kennels, before their chain rings, in the position of pleasure slaves, back on heels, heads up, hands on thighs, backs straight, knees wide.
"Take your hands off her," said Taphris. My left hand had strayed to her right thigh, and my right hand to her left hip. It is hard to keep one's hands off a female slave. They have been made to be handled, and mastered.
"That slave," snapped Taphris to Tuka, referring to me, "is not to be pleasured. It is the will of the Mistress."
"But what of my pleasure, my needs?" asked Tuka.
"Be silent, slave," snapped Taphris.
"Yes, Mistress," said Tuka, for she sensed that Taphris had power with the Mistress. Taphris was not even being chained.
"Scream, squirm, sob, bite at your chain, tear with your fingernails at the floor of your kennel, if you wish," advised Taphris, smiling. "I am sure the Mistress will not object to that."
"Yes, Mistress," moaned Tuka.
Angry, I went then to Claudia and locked her chain on her collar.
"You have chained me," she whispered.
I grinned at her. "Yes," I said. Her breasts heaved. On Gor it is generally understood that a man who chains a woman has full rights over her.
"Master," she whispered to me.
"Slave," I said to her.
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Do not fraternize with the sluts," ordered Taphris.
I then, in turn, secured Peliope and Leah in their kennels. Both drew in their breath briefly, briefly, too, closing their eyes, when the heavy lock was closed about their collar loops. They then looked at me, the weight of the chain dragging down their collars. I saw that either, at a snap of my fingers, would have thrown themselves on their backs on the boards before me.
"Do not dally," said Taphris, "or I shall make a report of it to the Mistress."
I rose to my feet.
"Surely you have tasks to perform," she said.
"I must go to the incubation shed," I said. "I think it will be quite warm there, perhaps even uncomfortable. You need not accompany me there."
"I will come with you," she said.
I looked at her. "Very well," I said. "Doubtless something can be found for you to do there."
"I am not to be used for the pleasure of men," she said.
I turned about and left the kennel shed. I heard the bare feet of Taphris pattering after me. I heard, too, Tuka cry out with misery, jerking at her chain. I heard the other girls, too, moan. Then I had left the shed, Taphris with me. I paused only long enough to bar the door, from the outside.
On the way to the incubation shed, I heard the ringing of the bar which signified the arrival of the fifteenth Ahn. The stable sluts, with the exception of Taphris, were now shut away from the sight of the Mistress' guests, should they arrive early. They would not now be seen during the visit of the guests unless the guests should request to look upon them.
In the incubation shed, Barus, looking down at Taphris, held the half-gourd cup. "Are you under perfect discipline, Taphris?" he had asked.
"Yes, Master," she had said, trembling.
"It did not seem so this afternoon," he had said.
"Forgive me, Master," she had said, trembling. "Please do not have me slain." Taphris, a Gorean slave girl, knew that she was at the complete mercy of free persons. Barus, as one of the Mistress' slave keepers, could kill her, or have her killed, at a whim. The Mistress, she knew, could always send another spy to the tables, perhaps Pamela or Bonnie, other house slaves. Neither Pamela nor Bonnie, as I have mentioned, were Earth girls, though they both wore Earth-girl names. Such names, as I have mentioned, are often used as slave names on Gor.
Taphris kept her head down.
"We know you are the Mistress' spy," said Barus.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Serve Jason water," he cried.
"Jason!" she cried.
He handed her the cup formed from the yellow half-gourd. She looked down at it, clutched in her hands. "Do you wish me to repeat a command?" he asked.
"No, Master!" she cried and leaped to her feet, hurrying to the water, in its wooden bucket, at the side of the shed. Quickly she returned with the half-gourd brimming full. She looked at Barus, and then she knelt before me, and pressed the half-gourd into her naked belly, head down, then lifted it to her lips, and lingeringly kissed it, then proffered it to me, kneeling, arms extended, trembling, head down between her arms.
"Speak," I told her.
"I bring you drink, Master," she said.
I took the cup and drank, looking upon her. How fit she seemed, in her place in the order of nature, naked, kneeling before a man. At this point it is common to rape the female.
"Let me throw her to her back in the sand," I begged Barus.
She shrank back, regarding Barus. At his least word or gesture, the smallest token of his permission, she knew she would be raped.
She trembled.
"No," said Barus, at last, regarding her, "she is not to be used for the pleasure of men, and the Mistress has given strict orders that you, unless receiving her explicit permission, are to be denied the pleasures of slut sport."
I turned away and, furious, helpless, an aroused, collared slave, struck with the side of my fist at the wall of the incubation shed.
"Return the dipper to the bucket, Taphris," I heard. I had, in fury, cast the dipper down to the sand. Barus had not reprimanded me.
"Yes, Master," I heard.
I sobbed in anger at the wall.
When I turned about Taphris, again, had been set about her homely duties, naked, on her hands and knees, carrying the sticks in her mouth, of feeding the fires in the flame ditch. I glared at her. How right she seemed for seizing and raping. She did not dare to meet my eyes.
"Here, Jason," said Barus. "Come here! Listen!"
I went to where he now knelt in the sand. The sand there began to sink down slightly. I saw it stir. Then, suddenly, the horny snout of a tharlarion thrust up from the hot sand. Its eyes blinked. Its tongue darted in and out of its mouth, licking sand from about its jaws. Its head was some eight inches in width.
"Snout strap," said Barus.
I picked up one of the long, leather, coiled snout straps lying at hand.
The head of the tiny hatchling, some eight inches wide, some foot or so in length, was now fully emerged from the sand. I saw one club-like foot, clawed, strike up out of the sand. It hissed.
I looped the snout strap about its jaws and tied them shut. It squirmed and half pulled itself from the leathery casing which had contained it, drawing it up, half out of the sand.
"Girth cloth, Taphris!" called Barus.
"Watch out for the tail!" said Barus to Taphris. She stepped back.
Barus and I threw the hatchling on its back and, rolling it, then, wrapped its torso in the folds of the girth cloth. This tends to protect it against the tunnel air when it is carried to the nursery. I bent down and, with the help of Barus, got the hatchling to my shoulders. The head, with its strapped-shut jaws, rotated on the neck, some two feet in length. It struck against my thigh. The young beast weighed, I conjecture, some one hundred and forty to one hundred and fifty pounds.
Barus slid back the bolt and lifted up the large trap door at one side of the shed and I, carefully, in the light of the fires of the incubation shed, descended the dirt ramp. At the bottom the tunnel, in its center, is floored by a set of single boards, laid end to end. This permits it to be traversed in the darkness. One need only keep one or both feet on the board. With the help of the boards, and a bit of practice, usually following a torch the first time, it is not difficult to find one's way about the tunnels in the darkness.
Strings, depending from the ceiling, through which one brushes, indicate side tunnels. Inclines indicate exits. The strings contain knots on the side on which the side tunnel occurs. If one encounters, as in side tunnels, approaching the main tunnel, a fully knotted, dependent wall of strings, then one knows that a left-and-right branching is imminent. This occurred in the tunneling under the domain of the Lady Florence only where the main tunnel was approached.
"Jason," called Kenneth, from the shed above me.
"Yes, Master," I said, turning, on the ramp, the hatchling quiet, puzzled, on my shoulders.
"When you have delivered the hatchling to the nursery, return to the incubation shed. Doubtless other eggs will hatch this night."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Tomorrow you may rest," he said.
I was puzzled. "Yes, Master," I said.
"Jason," said he.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Tomorrow night you are to report to the house."
I did not understand this.
"You were right earlier," he said, "when you suggested that the Mistress seemed in a good mood. She is."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Her guests are arriving this evening, most, it seems, under the cover of darkness," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"She is looking forward to tomorrow evening," he said. "She has planned, it is rumored, an exotic entertainment for them."
"I am to report to the house tomorrow evening?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Am I to be implicated in this entertainment?" I asked.
"It is not impossible," he said.
"Do you know its nature?" I asked.
"No," he said, "but I can well conjecture what it may be."
I stood in the tunnel, puzzled.
"The hatchling must not chill," he said. "Get it to the nursery."
"Yes, Master," I said, and turned away.
"Wait, Master!" I heard Taphris cry.
I turned about, again, and saw her, drawing her tiny slave rag over her head, carefully descending the ramp, her small feet leaving prints in the incline's dust.
I turned away again and strode down the tunnel.
I heard the trap door close above and behind us. The tunnel was immediately plunged into total darkness.
I began to traverse the tunnel, toward the nursery, keeping my right foot on the center board.
"Wait, Slave!" she cried, peremptorily.
But I did not wait. I knew the tunnel well.
"Wait, Slave! Wait, Slave!" she cried angrily. Then I heard her stumbling in the darkness, half running to follow me.
"I am furious that Barus made me kneel to you!" she cried. "I am in the Mistress' favor! I am in the Mistress' favor! I am a house slave, a house slave! I am not a stable slut! I am a house slave!"
I continued down the tunnel.
"I am a house slave!" she cried.
Taphris was a bother, a nuisance. I was tired of being followed about by her. Kenneth and Barus, too, were weary of her constant spyings and reportings to the Mistress. They would not have been displeased to rid the stables of her.
"Wait, Slave!" she cried.
I considered putting the hatchling down and turning on Taphris, raping her in the darkness of the tunnel to within an inch of her life. But I did not do so. It was not that I feared the Mistress. It was rather that I did not want the hatchling to become chilled. I had stood the vigil of its hatching. I felt responsibility for it. Too, I respected it. It was a free animal. It was not a slave.
Chapter 22 - THE HOUSE GUESTS OF THE LADY FLORENCE; THE VENGEANCE OF THE LADY FLORENCE; I AM GIVEN A SLAVE TO SPORT WITH
"I do not know how I can ever thank you, Lady Florence," breathed the Lady Melpomene.
"It is nothing," said the Lady Florence, "for we are sharers of a Home Stone and are, too, fast friends."
"How I regret our former differences," said the Lady Melpomene, clasping in her two hands those of the Lady Florence.
The Lady Florence nodded, her features visible behind the light house veil, suitable for an informal dinner with friends. The Lady Melpomene, too, wore such a veil. Both were richly robed.
I stood with Kenneth behind a curtain. Through the curtain we could hear and see what took place within the lofty hall in the house of the Lady Florence, she of Vonda. The hall was lovely, too, as well as lofty, with its mosaics and tiles, its hangings and slim pillars. In the hall was an open circle of small tables, at which a handful of guests, on cushions and mats, reclined. There were four men and two women at these tables, other than the Lady Florence, the hostess, and her guest of the past several days, the Lady Melpomene.
The tables were covered with cloths of glistening white and a service of gold. Before each guests there were tiny slices of tospit and larma, small pastries, and, in a tiny golden cup, with a small golden spoon, the clustered, black, tiny eggs of the white grunt. The first wine, a light white wine, was being deferentially served by Pamela and Bonnie. Both girls were beautiful, in flowing, classic white. Their arms, of course, were bare, as is common with slave girls. On the throat of each was a lustrously polished silver collar, and on the left wrist of each, locked, with a chain loop, should one desire to secure them, a matching bracelet. Both girls, of course, were barefoot.
"When these papers are signed," said the Lady Melpomene, happily, lifting some papers from the table in front of her, "I shall be free of my debts."
There was polite applause, the striking of the left shoulder, from those at the tables, including the Lady Florence.
"And all this I owe to my dear friend," said the Lady Melpomene, "the Lady Florence!"
There was again light applause, but this time, the Lady Florence, being the object of the commendation, merely bowed her head graciously.
"I lift my wine to the Lady Florence of Vonda!" said the Lady Melpomene.
"We lift our wine to the Lady Florence of Vonda," said the guests.
All then drank, save the Lady Florence, who, smiling, did not lift her cup. Free women, drinking, commonly lift their veil, or veils, with the left hand. Low-caste free women, if veiled, usually do the same. Sometimes, however, particularly if in public, they will drink through their veil, or veils. Sometimes, of course, free women will drink unveiled, even with guests. Much depends on how well the individuals are known, and who is present. In their homes, of course, with only members of their families present, or servants and slaves, most free women do not veil themselves, even those of high caste.
"I thank you, citizens of Vonda and others, friends, all," said the Lady Florence. "And now I, in turn, lift my cup."
All lifted their cups, save the Lady Melpomene.
"I lift my cup," said the Lady Florence, "to the beautiful Lady Melpomene of Vonda, who is beautiful enough even to wear the collar of a slave!"
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br /> There was laughter at this bold toast, and the Lady Melpomene, reddening, smiling, put down her head. "Please, Lady Florence," she chided. "There are those here who are not of Vonda." She looked across the tables, across the space between them, to where three men sat, one of Venna, and two of Ar. "What will your guests think?" she asked.
"Fear not, Lady Melpomene," said one of the men, one of Ar, who raised his cup. "I am sure that the toast of the Lady Florence is true in all particulars."
There was again laughter, and all drank, save the Lady Melpomene, who, embarrassed, smiling, was the object of the toast.
Pamela and Bonnie, heads down, silent effacing themselves, as is proper with slaves, again filled the small golden cups. It was again a serving of the first wine. In a Gorean supper in a house of wealth, in the course of the supper, with varied courses, eight to ten wines might be served, each suitably and congruously matched with respect to texture and bouquet not only to one another but to the accompanying portions of food.
I looked about, through the curtain, at the guests of the Lady Florence, other than the Lady Melpomene. The fellow from Venna, clad in white and gold, was Philebus, a bounty creditor. He was known to the merchants of several cities. Such men buy bills at discount and then set themselves to collect, as they can, their face value. They are tenacious in their trade. I did not know the business of the two men from Ar. They were Tenalion, and his man, Ronald. The fourth man was Brandon. He was from Vonda. He was a prefect in that city. His certifications on certain documents would be important. The two ladies, both of Vonda, were Leta and Perimene, both friends of the Ladies Florence and Melpomene. As free citizens of Vonda they could witness legal transactions.
"The Lady Melpomene is richly garbed," I noted to Kenneth, who stood beside me.
"The garments are those of the Lady Florence," he said.
"I see," I said.
"Even the perfume she wears is that of the Lady Florence," said Kenneth.
"I see," I said.
As we spoke some five musicians entered the room and took their places to one side. There was a czehar player, two flutists, a kalika player, and a player on the kaska, a small hand drum.