by John Norman
"I do not think so," I said. "I saw various slaves, indeed, house slaves and stable sluts, fastened at the saddle rings of the brigands, but I knew them all. No girl there was unknown to me. Thus none of them could have been the new slave."
"I do not know what became of her," said the Lady Florence, looking away, trembling.
"But you are certain, are you not," I asked, "that she was a true slave?"
"Oh, yes," said the Lady, Florence. "That slut was a true slave."
"She belonged in the collar, wouldn't you say?" I asked.
"Yes, Jason," said the Lady Florence.
"I wonder if I shall ever see her again," I mused.
"You would not know it, if you did, would you," asked the Lady Florence, "since, by my will, she served you only in the total darkness."
"I might know," I told her.
"Oh?" she said, warily.
"Her height and weight, and the feel of her body," I said, "were not unlike yours."
She shrugged, angrily.
"Her thigh, too," I said, "was as smooth as yours, and her throat, like yours, was innocent of the obdurate circlet of bondage. Surely such omissions are unusual in the case of female slaves."
"I simply had not yet had her collared and branded," she said. "She was, after all, a new slave."
"But are not such things among the first things which are done to a female slave?" I asked.
"Sometimes," shrugged Lady Florence.
"Her voice, too, was not unlike yours," I said.
"What are you suggesting!" demanded the Lady Florence, angrily.
"Her hair, however," I said, "was it the same as yours?"
"No," she said, "no! Her hair was blond, quite blond." The Lady Florence straightened up then, and smiled.
"Your hair, then," I said, "is quite different."
"Yes," she said.
I walked slowly behind the Lady Florence. She knelt straight. "Your own hair," I said, "is a rich auburn."
"Yes," she said.
"Such hair," I said, "is very unusual."
"I am fond of my hair," she said.
"You might well be," I said. "Such hair would be the envy of many slave girls."
"You need not speak of it that way," she said.
"Did you know that auburn hair is highly prized in the slave markets?" I asked.
"I have heard that," she said. "Oh!" she said. I had jerked a strand of hair from her head.
I walked about, before her, and held before her a strand of hair. "Why did you do that?" she asked.
"Is this your hair?" I asked.
"Of course," she said. "Why did you take it from me?" she asked.
"To identify you by it later," I said.
"I do not understand," she said.
"Why did you lie to me?" I asked.
"About what?" she asked.
"About the hair color of the new slave," I said.
"I did not lie," she said.
"Does this appear blond to you?" I asked. I showed her the strand of auburn hair, which she had just identified as her own.
"No," she said, "of course not."
"This is yours, is it not?" I asked.
"Of course," she said.
"Interesting," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
"This hair, which you have identified as your own," I said, "I took a few days ago, in the darkness, from the head of the 'new slave.'"
"No," she said, "you just took it from me, now!"
"No," I said, opening my left hand, "this is the strand of hair which I just took from you. The other I have carried for some days, concealed in my tunic. I removed it from my tunic when I was behind you." I held both strands in my right hand, before her. "Note," I said, "how both strands are identical."
She looked sick.
"Greetings, New Slave," I said.
"Greetings," she said, looking at me, frightened.
"Greetings, what?" I asked.
"Greetings--Master," she said.
I thrust her back to the grass. It was high about us.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.
"You lied to me," I said.
"What are you going to do with me?" she begged.
"Rape you as a slave," I said.
"I only pretended to be a slave," she wept.
"That pretense will be abruptly terminated in the camp of Tenalion," I said, "when the iron is pressed into your thigh, when the collar is closed about your throat."
"Oh!" she said. "What are you doing, your hands!"
"I am preparing you for slavery," I said.
"Free me," she begged.
I placed my mouth over hers. I felt her lips, full and liquid and wet, beneath mine. "No," I told her.
Chapter 30 - WE RESUME OUR JOURNEY
In a few moments she knelt before me, in the grass, shuddering, her head to my feet.
"You treated me as a slave, truly," she said.
"You are a slave," I told her, "except for certain legalities, which will soon be satisfied."
"No," she wept, "no!"
"Between now and our arrival at the camp of Tenalion," I said, "you will be and act in all respects as though you might be a full and legal slave. This will help you to accommodate yourself to your future condition. Indeed, it may save your life."
"Take pity on me, Jason," she said, head down.
I pulled up her head by the hair and crouched beside her. "Oh!" she said. I slapped her twice.
"Does a slave dare to address her master by his name?"
"No!" she said, tears in her eyes.
"No, what?" I asked.
"No, Master!" she said. I released her hair. I stood up.
"I fear," she said, "that I will never be able to make the transition between a free woman and a slave."
I laughed at her, and she looked up, angrily.
"There is in actuality no transition for you to make," I told her.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because you are a woman," I told her. "On your feet, female."
She stood up, enraged, her hands bound behind her. "Turn about," I told her.
She did so.
"Do you not feel the leash will be necessary?" she asked. "Am I not to be led to the market on a strap, like a tethered she-tarsk?"
"I shall use the leash after dark," I told her.
The use of leashes differs among masters. Some masters use leashes for little more than tethering a girl. Others, of course, use them liberally as leading devices. They are often used with a proud, rebellious or recalcitrant girl, sometimes to publicly humiliate her. After being led on a leash it is not unusual for a girl to beg her master to be permitted to heel him, following him deferentially in her proper place. Leashes are generally used in cities, or in crowds. A loose slave can be a nuisance. They may be useful, too, of course, in broken or wooded areas, where a fleeing girl might attempt to find cover, or in dangerous places, where she might be stolen.
A leash, it might be mentioned, aside from its convenience in controlling a slave, particularly the choke leash, is an extremely useful training device. Many trainers, the leash loop about their left wrist, hold the leash in their left hand and their training whip in their right.
Girls, too, can be taught to use the leash to enhance their seductiveness, appearing to draw away, then approaching, using it about their body, kissing it, taking it in their mouth, fingering it, and so on. A test for slave potential used by some slavers is to leash a new girl and see if she, in her apparent rebellion and defiance, actually, subtly, perhaps in the beginning unconsciously, uses the leash to enhance her desirability and beauty. This indicates that she, in her heart, is not displeased to wear the leash of the master.
Indeed, the leash, not uncommonly, can cause a woman to sexually blossom. This is presumably a function of such things as its actual restraint, which is quite real; its message to her that she is an animal, a slave; and its making clear to her, by a device, such as a bracelet, a brand or collar, what i
s the order of nature, who it is who controls her and who it is whom she must obey, who is the slave and who the master.
A leash, even apart from questions of training, of course, can have a powerful emotional impact on a girl. It is a very useful way of convincing a girl that she is a slave; similarly it can always serve as an effective reminder. Some girls do not seem to believe they are slaves until they have been leashed. But after that, and after having been put through "leash paces," there is seldom any doubt in their mind. Some girls beg to be leashed, sometimes crawling to their masters, their leash held between their small, fine teeth. Most masters use the leash at one time or another. A Gorean saying has it that a leashed slave is a hot slave.
"So you will use the leash after dark," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"Apparently you have no intention of permitting me to escape from you," she said.
"No," I said.
"Let me negotiate for my freedom," she said.
"Begin moving," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
Chapter 31 - WE CONTINUE OUR WAY SOUTHWARD
It was the heat of the afternoon. The sun was high. "On your back," I told her. She lay down, and I took her. Then I put her on her stomach, and untied her hands from behind her back. Then I put her on her back and retied her hands, wrists crossed, before her body, holding them in place, at her belly, with a loop of strap. "On your feet," I told her, "and face again southwards."
"Why have you tied my hands in this fashion?" she asked, her back to me.
"Because you are beautiful," I said.
"I see," she said.
"Begin moving," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said.
Chapter 32 - I DO NOT LISTEN TO THE ENTREATIES OF THE LADY FLORENCE
"I did not think you would have the nerve to leash me," she said.
We lay together on the soft dirt and leaves, in a small clump of trees in a meadow. I was on my back, looking up at the moons through the branches of the trees. The stars were fine and beautiful, bright in the black sky. She pressed herself against me. I had again tied her hands behind her back. She was tethered by the neck beside me, by the strap which had earlier served as her leash. The tether was fastened to a tree which I could reach out and touch. The knot was under her chin.
"How is it that you have dared to put me on a leash?" she asked.
"I do not understand," I said.
"I am still free, truly, you know," she said.
"Yes," I said, "legally."
"I am furious," she said, "that you have leashed me." She kissed me.
"Why?" I asked.
"I am free," she said, "and it is so degrading. It is like I am a slave girl."
"I see," I said.
"I suppose it was necessary to leash me," she said, "as a matter of prisoner security."
"I do not think it was necessary," I said, "but it was convenient."
"Convenient!" she cried. "You leashed me because it was convenient!" She struggled up to one elbow beside me, the tether on her throat
"Yes," I said, "but, too, there was another reason."
"What was that?" she asked.
"Because you are pretty on a leash, Lady Florence," I said.
She looked at me, not speaking.
Shortly after dark, while we were still trekking, I had put her to her back, untied her hands, then put her on her stomach, tying her hands again behind her back. I had then put her on her back again and unwrapped the long strap from her throat. I had then, holding the coiled strap about two feet from her throat, jerked it twice, that she could feel the pull against the back of her neck. She had looked up at me.
"Not bad," I said. She had gasped. Then, loosening the coils, giving her some slack, I had pulled her to her feet. She had looked at me, her eves wide. "I am leashed," she had whispered, disbelievingly. Then I had turned about and pulled her after me. In a moment she was hurrying behind me, hands bound, on the leash.
Twice, that she might rest, we had stopped. Each time she had knelt quite close to me. The second time she had looked up at me, piteously, the tether on her throat, and kissed me on the thigh. It is interesting, the effect that a device such as a leash can have on a woman.
The common Gorean leash, incidentally, unlike the simple strap I was using, has a lock snap and closes either about a collar or a collar ring. It might be mentioned that there are also such devices as wrist leashes and ankle leashes.
"What are you thinking?" I asked her.
"I was thinking," she said, "that you were once my silk slave."
I did not speak.
"If you were a gentleman," she said, "and I more fully free, I might beg to attempt to earn my freedom, by the performance of intimate services for you."
"Any such services which you might perform," I said, "are already mine to command."
"That is true," she said.
"I command them," I said.
"That I might earn my freedom?" she asked.
"No," I said, "that you might, through practice, improve your skills as a slave."
"I am not a slave," she said.
"You will behave as one," I said.
She looked at me, angrily.
"Come here," I said. I held the leash.
"You hold my leash. I obey," she said.
When she was but inches from me, I pulled her by the leash even more closely to me. Her lips were then but the breadth of fingers from mine.
"Are you taking me tomorrow to the camp of Tenalion?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Do not lead me in on a leash," she said.
"It is common to take a girl to and from a market on a leash," I said.
"But Tenalion has known me as a free woman," she said.
"You will soon be known to him only as a lovely slave," I said.
"Not on the leash, please," she wept.
"On the leash," I told her.
"My will means nothing?" she asked.
"Nothing," I told her.
She sobbed then, and I threw her beneath me.
"Do not sell me!" she begged.
"Be silent, lovely slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Tomorrow," she whispered to me, confidently, "you will return with me to my estates and free me."
"No," I told her.
"You cannot be serious about selling me," she said. "It is madness!"
"No madness is involved," I said. "You will be an object in a simple business transaction."
"You cannot sell me, after all I have done for you this night!" she wept. "I have behaved as a full slave to you!"
I pulled her again to me, by the leash. She moaned. Then I turned her to her back, and put my hand under her chin, forcing her head back. "As a full slave," she said.
I kissed her, on the lips. Then I lifted my head. "And you will do so again," I whispered.
"I must," she said. "You hold my leash."
She writhed in my arms, squirming and moaning. Then I held my left hand behind the small of her back and touched her well and fully with my right hand. The tether was on her throat. Her hands were bound behind her back. She lifted her body to me piteously.
"You will make some master a hot slave," I said.
"I am leashed," she said. "I must obey!"
"Your condition is that of a slave," I said. "It is a thing far beyond leashes and collars."
"Do not stop touching me!" she begged. She thrust herself, rearing, up against me.
"You are superb, Lady Florence," I said.
"I want-I want-" she whispered, terrified.
"Yes?" I said.
"I want to scream myself a submitted slave!" she wept.
"Do so," I told her.
"I am a slave!" she sobbed. "I admit it!" she sobbed. "I am a slave!" she cried out. "I am a slave!" Then she shuddered and shook in my arms, and I could scarcely hold her, and then she was crying, and sobbing joyfully. I continued to hold her, and kiss her, and then, as she
was so beautiful, I entered her and, in fierce silence, exulted within her. "Thank you, Master," she whispered, and I then continued to hold her. "I am a slave, aren't I?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "I have always feared so," she said. "In itself it is nothing to fear," I said. "Fear rather the actual state of bondage, and those who will be your masters."
"I do fear it, and them," she said. "But should not a true slave, like myself, be placed in actual bondage, and have a master? Otherwise she could not be truly fulfilled."
"On the world which I once knew, one called Earth," I said, "it is common to deny the fulfillment of slaves. Laws, even, are sometimes opposed to their fulfillment."
"Cruel laws," she said.
"The Gorean world, in many ways, is cruel," I said, "but its cruelties are unhypocritical and open. They are honest and comprehensible. They are not pernicious and insidious. It would not occur to a Gorean to deny a slave her collar. She would not be forced to thwart and frustrate her deepest biological dispositions and sentiments, her desire to be, fully, a male's female."
"I am a slave," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"I want to be a slave," she said, "but I am terrified to be a slave."
"As well you might be," I said.
"What can a master do to me?" she asked.
"Anything," I said.
"I am afraid," she whispered.
"As well you might be," I said.
Suddenly she scrambled from my side, miserably, scattering leaves and dirt about. She backed away, frightened, to the end of her tether. She struggled against it, her head down. She struggled to free her wrists, futilely. She was very beautiful as she tried to free herself. She could not do so.
"I do not want to be a slave!" she cried.
"By tonight," I told her, "you will have felt the iron and will wear the collar."
"I do not want to be a slave!" she cried.
"The decision is not yours," I said.
"I do not want to be a slave," she wept. She fell on her knees at my side. "Free me," she begged. "Free me!"
"Try to be pleasing to your masters," I said. "Perhaps then you will be permitted to live."
She looked at me, aghast.
"Now lick and kiss me," I told her. "It is dawn, and we must soon be on our way."