Magicians of Gor

by Norman, John;

  I looked at her.

  "Serenity, contentment," she said. "Happiness. The fighting was over."

  "When did you receive the collar of Appanius?" I asked.

  "The next day," she said, "affixed on me by one of his agents. Later I was called for at the edifice of the magistrates by one of his slaves, driving a tharlarion wagon. He tied my hands behind my back and put a rope on my neck, by means of which he tied me to the back of the wagon. I was not to ride in the wagon. I was a female slave. I would follow it afoot, on my rope. It was thus, naked, that I was conducted to the house of my master. Twice in the streets I was struck by free women. My introduction to slavery had begun."

  "Were you angry with the slave who bound you?" I asked.

  "No," she said. "Rather I was afraid of him. He was a male. Too, I realized I could be given to him for his pleasure, if my master wished."

  "I gather that," I said, "in spite of the doubtless large numbers of beautiful slaves in the house of Appanius, you were to be trained as a house slave."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Do not doubt, then, your desirability and beauty," I said.

  "I tried to do well," she said, "to learn self-effacement and deference, to serve ably, silently and unobtrusively. I think I did well. I hardly ever felt the stroke of the house master's switch."

  "And were you silked?" I asked.

  "As befits slaves," she said, "clad for the pleasure of masters."

  "How came you to the fields?" I asked.

  "One night I, and two others, were serving not in the main halls, as we commonly did, but at a late supper, a small, private supper, laid in the very quarters of my master, Appanius. It was well after the curfew, and the closing of the theaters. There were only two at this supper, the master, Appanius, and Milo, his slave, whom you have heard of, who had returned from a performance in the great theater."

  "Appanius and Milo must be on intimate terms," I said.

  "Yes," she said. "The master treats him almost as though he might be a free man. They discuss matters of business and the theater. Even in the great hall, at the common suppers, he has Milo above the salt and at his right hand."

  "You must have served Milo at the common suppers then?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said.

  "And as only another deferential slave," I said.

  "Of course," she said.

  "You must hate him," I said.

  "Why?" she asked.

  "It was through his collusion," I said, "that you came into the collar."

  "Then I should be grateful to him," she said, "for I have known for years that it is in the collar that I belong."

  "I see," I said.

  "Besides," she said, "he, too, is a slave. He must act on behalf of Appanius. He, too, even though he is the great Milo, must obey. Do you think he wishes to be thrown to sleen?"

  "I would not think so," I said.

  "I am far from bearing him ill will," she said.

  "I gathered that," I said.

  "Indeed," she said, "it was my hope that I might be thrown to him, that I might at last feel his touch!"

  "I see," I said.

  "He is beautiful!" she said.

  "Not a bad looking fellow," I granted her.

  "And there I was," she said, "kneeling half naked in slave silk, collared, in bangles, waiting to serve, so close to him I could reach out and touch him, almost alone with him."

  "Continue," I said.

  "And then they began to discuss a free woman, I do not even remember her name, objectively, casually, as though she might be an animal, a mere slave, like myself. I could hardly believe my ears. And then I realized that at one time I, too, had doubtless been so discussed."

  "You were angry?" I asked.

  "Not then," she said. "I think I was rather more scandalized that the woman should be discussed in that fashion. After all, she was not, as I, an animal, a slave."

  "But perhaps she was an animal, a slave," I said, "only one not yet in her collar, as once you were not yet in your collar."

  "That is undoubtedly true!" she laughed.

  "But you became angry later?" I said.

  "Yes!" she said.

  "At whom?" I asked.

  "At both of them!" she said.

  "Because of the trickery they would practice," I asked, "because of the toils of the slave net?"

  "No," she said. "It was rather that I did not want Milo to have anything to do with that other woman, whoever she was! There were already enough women so captured in the house! What if she were more beautiful than I? What if he liked her, when he saw her naked in the net?"

  "You were jealous of a possible rival," I said.

  "Perhaps," she said.

  "You would have preferred to be the only female in Milo's net?"

  "Yes!" she said.

  "But there have apparently been a great many," I said.

  "I was distraught," she said. "I was furious! My heart was beating wildly. Then I felt futile, helpless and miserable. I could do nothing! Such as I are completely at the mercy of our masters! I was only a slave! And then there were tears in my eyes, and Milo was so beautiful! I wanted him to see me, to notice me. I did not wish to be just another slave in the background, unrecognized, so simply taken for granted, serving but almost unnoticed, present but scarcely seen. I reached out, with tears in my eyes, and put my fingers on his arm."

  "Continue," I said.

  "He seemed startled that I had done this, as though he might not believe it. I looked at him, tears in my eyes, kneeling there, appealing to him, that he might take notice of me, though I were only a slave."

  "Yes?" I said.

  "This was noted, of course, by my master, Appanius. Apparently I had not realized the grievousness of what I had done. He leaped to his feet. His eyes blazed. He was beside himself with anger. 'Guards! Guards!' he cried, clapping his hands. I knelt small there by the table, trembling, my head down. I knew I had done wrong, daring to touch Milo, I, he so favored by the master and I only a house slave, but I had been unable to help myself. I so wanted to be brought to his attention! But never yet had he requested me, nor had I been put naked to my knees before him, my hands bound behind me in slave bracelets, the key about my neck, for his pleasure. I knew I had done wrong, but I had not understood that it was so terrible. I had only wanted to call myself to his attention, and had hoped doubtless that he might sometimes be moved to take pity on a poor slave. 'Guards! Guards!' cried Appanius. I was terrified. I trembled, not understanding the immensity of his anger, the enormity of his response to my tiny, pathetic deed. Guards rushed into the room, blades free of scabbards, the doors bursting open. Perhaps they had feared an attempt was in progress on the master's life. In a moment they were about me. I feared I was to be cut to pieces. He struggled, it seemed, to control himself. 'Forgive me, Master!' I wept. I crawled to him, my head down. 'Forgive me, Master!' I wept. I kissed his feet, fervently. He pulled away, in anger. He moved to the side. He kicked me twice, in fury. I returned to him on my belly, and showered my hair upon his sandals, and then again kissed his feet, again and again. 'Forgive me, Master!' I wept, an errant slave, one who had done wrong, pleading for mercy and forgiveness. He pulled back, away from me again, and then stood there, some feet before me, looking down at me. I was still on my belly. I looked up at him, a slave regarding her master with terror, lying before him, his property, on the tiles of his house. 'Have her lashed,' he said. 'Then have her hair cropped, and send her to the fields!'"

  "And it was thus you came to the fields," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "And how did Milo respond to all this?" I asked.

  "Imperturbably," she said. "I was, after all, only a female."

  "Do you think that Milo finds you attractive?" I asked.

  "Master?" she asked.

  "That he would like to strip you, collar you and throw you to the furs at his feet, there to vent his lust upon you, his slave?"

  "I do not know
if his drives are that strong, Master," she said.

  "Would you object?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said. "It has always been my hope that I might prove attractive enough to provoke such desire. I am a slave girl. I live to be the obedient, grateful, vulnerable object of such lust and power. I have always dreamed of it. I wish to be choiceless, to be overpowered and made to serve!"

  "Milo must have exhibited some interest in you, or seemed to exhibit some interest in you," I said, "if only during the period of your seduction, when you were being trapped."

  "Yes," she said, "then."

  "But after you were in the house as a slave, collared, scantily clad, utterly vulnerable?"

  "No, Master," she said.

  "He never asked for you to be brought to him?"

  "No, Master."

  "Why do you think that is?" I asked.

  "I am insufficiently beautiful," she said.

  "Did he call for other women?" I asked.

  "I do not know, Master," she said.

  "Did you not see names written on the call boards in the kitchen?"

  "No," she said.

  "Interesting," I said.

  "One of the girls, another one of we three who had been trapped by Milo, claimed to have been with him, but it was proven that she had lied. She had been chained in the stable that night. The house master found out about it and she was whipped, before us all."

  "As far as you know, then," I said, "none of the girls of the house were put with Milo."

  "As far as I know, not," she said.

  "But surely there would be no cause for secrecy about such a matter," I said.

  "I would not think so," she said.

  "Milo was important in the house," I said. "He is famous. He is of great value to Appanius."

  "Certainly, Master," she said.

  "It would make sense then," I said, "to suppose that a girl would be sent to him, at least once in a while."

  "Perhaps, Master," she said.

  "So much is done even for quarry slaves," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "But as far as you know this was never done?"

  "Not as far as I know," she said.

  "And if it had been done," I said, "it is my speculation that you would have heard of it, such gossip flowing quickly enough through the corridors of such a house."

  "I suppose so," she said.

  "If Milo had requested a girl, do you think he would have received one?"

  "I would suppose so," she said, puzzled.

  "Perhaps he did not request one," I said.

  "Master?" she asked.

  "Possibly Milo does not find women attractive," I said.

  "Master?" she asked.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Are you a virgin?" I asked.

  She laughed. "How long can a slave remain a virgin, Master?" she asked.

  It was surely a fair question. Slaves exist for the service and pleasure of their masters. Their lovely bodies, of course, are helplessly and completely at the sexual disposal of their masters. It is a rare day on which the master does not see fit to put them to his pleasure. On their lovely bodies, unilaterally or not, briefly or lengthily, is vented the lust of their owners. Their utilization is taken for granted in the Gorean culture. They are only slaves. This is one of the reasons, I suppose, why the often sexually starved free women, enwrapped in respect and dignity, secure in their lofty status, resplendent in their robes and veils, even in their inertness, and cultivated coldness, are deeply troubled by the thoughts of what ensues amongst masters and slaves. Beneath the thick, carefully shored up and dutifully tended ices of their station and glory surely there must stir the roiling depths of need and desire. Surely many a free woman dreams of the collar and bracelets. The slave is commonly put to her master’s purposes, and, accordingly, is commonly sexually fulfilled, profoundly and richly. She lives in a veritable atmosphere, a veritable richness, of sensation and sensibility. Too, of course, once the slave fires have been lit in her belly she needs her master’s touch, plaintively, desperately. And few men will resist the petitions of a beautiful, begging slave. And thus, again, amongst free women are fueled the enragements against, the jealousies and envyings of, their collared sisters. Some slaves, of course, are brought to the block as virgins. Amongst some men this elicits higher bids. For most Goreans the matter is immaterial. What matters it that the slave is white silk or red silk? Once purchased it is quite unlikely she will long remain white silk, unless perhaps she has been purchased for a resale. Some fellows red silk their purchases within moments of their buy, sometimes at the very foot of the block itself. She soon learns what it is to be a slave. There is an interesting type of virgin slave, however, which might be noted, a type of slave bred for its innocence, delicacy and beauty, which is raised in isolated gynaecea without the least knowledge of the existence of men. They are secretly assessed and arrangements are made for their purchase and delivery. At the appropriate time they are administered a potion which renders them unconsciousness. They are then removed from the gynaeceum, to be revived later. Whereas a number of dispositions are possible, these girls, who are quite expensive, are not unoften purchased by victorious generals and ubars who use them as a portions of their victory feasts. They are commonly awakened naked, startled and bewildered, and, within moments, to their confusion and consternation, are branded and collared, following which they are cast to the victors. And thus they learn that there are men, and that they are not men. But the work slave was right, of course. It was not likely that a slave would long remain a virgin.

  "Whom have you served?" I asked.

  "Mostly men in the house, on the staff," she said, "those who wanted me for the night. We are free to them, you know. I was muchly cuffed at first. I was clumsy. I knew so little."

  "You are more accomplished now?" I asked.

  "One learns quickly under the whip," she said.

  "And in the fields?"

  "Mostly the whip masters," she said. "But twice I was tied to a stake, for the field slaves."

  I noted that her knees had moved a little further apart, probably unconsciously, or without really thinking about it, after she had said this. In such ways can a slave, sometimes not even conscious of what she is doing, or fully conscious of it, beg. I glanced to Marcus, and he smiled. He, too, had noticed the tiny movement.

  "May I speak, Masters?" she asked.

  "No," I said.

  She put down her head.

  "Have you experienced slave arousal?" I asked.

  "Master?" she asked, looking up.

  "Have the slave fires been lit in your belly?" I asked. She was, after all, a relatively new slave, and had been a house slave, apparently primarily consigned to domestic duties, serving table and such, and was now a field slave, whose primary services would presumably lie in such labors as the carrying of water and the hoeing of suls. It was not as though she had been in the attentive and exacting ownership, for example, of a particular master, who would see to the summoning forth and cultivation of these intimate, exquisite, exigent latencies which once initiated seem to blossom and grow of their own lovely, imperious will, which cannot be suppressed or silenced, and which make a girl so much their prisoner, more so than collars and chains.

  "Sometimes," she said, "I sense their beginnings in me."

  "How do you feel about them?" I asked.

  "I love them," she said, "but I am afraid of them."

  I nodded. Well she might be.

  "May I speak?" she asked.

  "Very well," I said.

  "Who are you?" she asked. "Are you men of my master, Appanius?"

  Perhaps she thought we had come from her master, to question her. But surely, too, our armbands should have suggested to her that our origins, and intents, were not indigenous to the house of Appanius.

  "No," I said.

  "You are not slavers, are you?" she asked.

  We did not sp
eak.

  "Please tell me!" she begged.

  "It is not in that modality that we have come," I said.

  "You are members of the caste of slavers!" she said.

  "No," I said.

  "But you are slavers!" she said.

  "Do not concern yourself with the matter," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  The distinction, of course, is between belonging to the caste of slavers and being a slaver. Whereas members of the caste of slavers are slavers, not all slavers are members of the caste of slavers. For example, I am not of the slavers, but in Port Kar I am known as Bosk, and he is known as many things, among them pirate and slaver. Too, both Marcus and myself were of the warriors, the scarlet caste, and as such were not above taking slaves. Such is not only permitted in the codes, but encouraged by them. "The slave is a joy and a convenience to the warrior." Neither of us, of course, was a member of the caste of slavers. It, incidentally, is sometimes regarded as a subcaste of the merchants, and sometimes as an independent caste. It does have its own colors, blue and yellow, whereas those of the merchants are yellow and white, or gold and white.

  "Have you come to collect taxes?" she asked. "Have you come from the levies?"

  "No," I said. Her questions were doubtless motivated by our armbands. It was not unknown in recent months in Ar and her vicinity for properties of various sorts, including such as she was, to be taken for taxes. Too, of course, there might have been new requisitions from Cos, or even from the camp of the polemarkos, calling for new levies of women, both free and slave.

  "You are not going to carry me off are you?" she asked.

  "Curiosity is not becoming in a kajira," I said.

  "Forgive me, Master," she said. She squirmed in agitation. It would not be difficult, of course, to carry her off. With our armbands we could have done so with impunity. In a matter of moments she could have been ours, gagged, hooded and bound. There are a great many ways in which a girl may be carried captive by a mounted warrior, and many saddles have been designed with the accommodation of such a prisoner in mind. Some of these arrangements are quite simple and others are complex. Perhaps the simplest is to have the girl mounted before you with her hands tied to a ring before her body. Some of the more complex involve saddle cages and nets. A reasonably common arrangement, and that with which our saddles were equipped, involves paired rings, one on each side of the saddle. With this arrangement the usual technique is as follows: The girl's hands are tied before her and then tied, in turn, to a ring on the left side of the saddle. When she is thusly fastened, her hands up, tied together and fastened to the left saddle ring, she is lifted up and put over the saddle, on either her back or belly, as pleases the captor, after which her ankles are fastened together on the other side, then, of course, also lashed to the ring there, the second of the pair of rings, that on the right side of the saddle. In this arrangement the girl is quite safe, protected against the danger of a fall. She is also, of course, completely helpless.