Magicians of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "'It could mean his death if it were so much as glimpsed by one of the Council, or by Seremides, or Myron, or his master, or perhaps any free man,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said. But, Master, she did not destroy the letter! She folded it carefully, and concealed it within her robes!"

  "I understand," I said. I suspected that that letter was too precious to the Ubara for her to destroy it. Perhaps she would treasure it. I wondered what she would do if she learned that it had been written by Marcus. For a brief instant, a rather unworthy one, I was pleased that my own handscript was so poor, particularly with respect to alternate lines. To be sure, it also, theoretically, gave her great power over the innocent Milo. If such a letter fell into the wrong hands it was not unlikely he would find himself keeping an appointment with leech plants or sleen. Marcus might not have objected to this, but I would not personally have approved of it. I bore Milo no ill will, though he was a rather handsome fellow.

  "'Milo presumes outrageously above his station!' she said to me.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said. But I think she was pleased."

  "He is, after all," I reminded the slave, "one of the most handsome men in Ar."

  "The most handsome man in Ar!" said Lavinia.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Surely one of the most handsome men in Ar!" she said.

  "Well, perhaps," I said.

  "'What a mad fool he is!' she exclaimed.

  "'Perhaps he finds Mistress irresistible,' I suggested. 'Perhaps he cannot help himself.'

  "'Yes,' she said. 'It can only be that.'"

  I myself was wondering if the Ubara could be taught to writhe in chains, or to move on the floor in such a way, so prettily, that the master would not lash her for clumsiness.

  Many slaves are trained in floor movements. In none of these are they permitted to rise to their feet. The switch or whip is useful in improving their performance in these matters. Some masters, particularly in training a new slave, do not let her head rise above their belt. She may hope, then, that eventually, as she becomes more pleasing, she will be permitted to stand in her master’s presence. A similar sort of thing involves access to the surface of the master’s couch. Most slaves, and even the highest and most preferred of slaves occasionally, that they may not forget they are slaves, are used at the foot of the couch. The surface of the couch is usually reserved for a Free Companion. Indeed, many Free Companions will not even enter upon a couch if they suspect that a slave has served on its surface. Accordingly, it is understood that it is a mark of considerable favor for a slave to be allowed on the couch. Before entering upon it she will commonly kneel beside it and, head down, gratefully lift and kiss its coverlets or furs. She is acutely sensitive of the honor, however undeserved, that is shown her, that she, no more than a slave, will be permitted to share the couch of a free man.

  "Is Master listening?" asked Lavinia.

  "Yes," I said.

  "She then rose up from her chair, and came down to where I knelt, back-braceleted and fastened to the rings.

  "'Of what house are you?' she asked.

  "'Of the house of Appanius, Mistress,' I said. But surely that would have been suggested by my collar! Surely she had been apprised of this sort of thing by the guards, even when I was still on the street outside!"

  "Continue," I said.

  "'Kneel straight, and lift your chin,' she said. 'Put your head further back!' she said. She then bent down, and put her hands on the collar, and checked it. 'RETURN ME TO APPANIUS OF AR' she read. 'A suitable legend for a collar,' she smiled, straightening up, 'fitting for an animal.'

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'You are an animal, you know,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Incredible,' she marveled, 'the difference between one such as I and one such as you.'

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Such as you are meaningless,' she said. 'Mere livestock to be bought and sold, mere creatures to be peddled about, and chained and herded. How far you are from persons! Worthless sluts such as you belong in collars. How appropriate it is for such as you, to be neck-encircled and marked! How foolish are some men to see anything in half-naked trivialities such as yourself. It is beyond me how any true man could find anything of your sort of any interest whatsoever. Sometimes I wonder if you are even human. Perhaps in some reduced, negligible, generous sense. I suppose you are useful, for lowly labors, and such. Nothings which are permitted to live to serve your betters. I wonder sometimes if such as I, a person, and such as you, no more than a beast, are even members of the same species.'

  "Even had I not been back-braceleted and leash-constrained, I would have dared not speak, Master. How small and worthless, how despicable and shamed, I was before her august presence. She was a free woman. I was a slave.

  "'What are you called?' she asked.

  "'Lavinia,' I said.

  "'That is a pretty name,' she said.

  "'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.

  "'And you are a pretty girl, Lavinia,' she said.

  "'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Very pretty,' she said.

  "'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.

  "'—For a slave,' she added.

  "'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.

  "'For a meaningless little animal, a meaningless little beast,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Do not dare to bring your head forward!' she said.

  "'No, Mistress!' I said.

  "Then she took my collar in her hands and held it, and looked down, angrily, into my eyes. 'Slut!' she exclaimed. 'Meaningless, collared chit!'

  "'Yes, Mistress!' I gasped, frightened. But, Master, if she were in a collar, do you think she would be so much more than I?"

  "No," I said.

  "It would be as fixed upon her as upon me! She would be as helpless in it as I! She would be no more able to remove it from her neck than I!"

  "No," I said. "Such collars are not made to be removed by girls."

  At this point I interject a point which may be of interest to some, perhaps as affording some additional light on Gorean culture.

  Occasionally, in certain of the high cities, a group of masked young rowdies, deplorable, high-spirited, boisterous, frolicsome young ruffians, hooligans, if you like, as a lark, will set upon a free woman and fasten her in a slave collar. Naturally this escapade, which is no more than a racy jollity to the young fellows involved, may be viewed with less good humor by the object of their attentions. I mention this as a sidelight on the Gorean world, it being suggested by my earlier remark. The free woman, in such a case, you see, as much as any slave girl, finds herself the complete and helpless captive of the collar. It is fastened on her exactly as well, as perfectly, as securely, as on a slave. Neither can remove it. The obvious difference is that the collar is inappropriate on the free woman and appropriate on the slave. In the case of the free woman, it is an affront to her dignity; in the case of the slave it is a testimony to her desirability. Commonly the free women, in such a case, is, or pretends to be, humiliated, outraged, and so on. The device, of course, may be eventually removed by appropriate tools, but it is embarrassing for the free woman to have this done. For example, her body must be first examined by free women to make certain it is not branded, and so on. Surely this is all a great deal of trouble and embarrassment for the woman. Not every woman, of course, is equally likely to be a candidate for such attentions. Usually the woman is one who is notorious for her egotism, arrogance, insolence, and conceit, or such. Sometimes her embarrassment is such that she continues to wear the collar in secret. She, in all her loftiness and pride, cannot begin to bear the thought of another learning that her throat, that of a free woman, such a free woman, is encircled by the slave band. Or perhaps, in some cases, that is her excuse to herself for not seeking its removal. For the band on her throat may be something which she feels should be there. It may be something which she has always, in her secret hea
rt, wanted there. The collar, then, in one case or another, may be removed or not. But now when she looks upon a young man, in the markets or plazas, or theater, or elsewhere, what is she to think? Is he one of those who put the collar on her? She does not know. If he is, he will know her, and she will know that he knows. Is he one of them? How does she understand that expression, that smile? Is it meaningful? Does he think she is a slave! Does she redden beneath her veils? Similarly, the young man, seeing her in public, will remember her, and well. Does she still wear the collar? He does not know. But she knows. Does she falter? Does her hand inadvertently, in ever so small, so incipient, a gesture, lift toward her throat? Interestingly, many women who have had this experience, who have had the collar on their neck, will soon seek the companionship. They will now want a man. Others may now want not only a man, but a master. Sometimes the collared free woman will twist and squirm at night, and bite her bed clothing, and dampen her cushions with tears, and kiss her fingertips and press them softly, tenderly to the collar. These want more than the companionship; they want bondage, and submission to a dominant male, a master. Imagine the surprise of a slaver, taking a free woman and discovering she is already collared. She is then likely to be lashed for having dallied in the accordance of her submission.

  "'What are you to Milo?' she asked, suddenly.

  "'Nothing, Mistress!' I cried. 'Nothing, Mistress!'

  "'How is it,' she asked, 'that you have brought this message? Keep your head in position!'

  "'I have been assigned by my master, Appanius, to Milo, to be a personal serving slave to him, to clean his quarters, run his errands, and such.'

  "'And does he sleep you at his slave ring?' she asked.

  "'No, Mistress," I gasped, 'he sleeps me on my mat, in the corner of his room, and I am not permitted to leave it until morning!'

  "'Absurd!' she said.

  "'No, Mistress!' I said.

  "'And has he never touched you?' she asked.

  "'Mistress?'

  "'Do not pretend to be stupid, little slut!' she cried.

  "'Mistress!' I wept.

  "'Has he never touched you?'

  "'Mistress?'

  "'—in the way of the man?'

  "'No, Mistress!' I said.

  "'Do you expect me to believe that?' she asked.

  "'Yes, Mistress!' I begged.

  "'Do you think I do not know what little sluts like you are for?' she said. 'How you belong to men, as less than their sandals! How they take you in hand and slake their lusts on you! How they put you to their pleasure! How they rope and chain you and make you squeak and squirm, and gasp, and moan, and weep, and cry out for mercy!'

  "She glared down at me.

  "'I am to Milo only a meaningless serving slave,' I said.

  "'But you would be more!' she said.

  "'Please do not make me speak!' I wept.

  "She looked down upon me, and laughed. Oh, Master, how that laugh cut me! How deeply was I wounded by that laugh!

  "'Do not presume above your station, silly little slave girl,' she said.

  "'Forgive me, Mistress," I said. Why was she so cruel to me, only a slave?"

  "Continue," I said.

  "'Your hair is too short," she said to me.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said. 'I served in the fields.'

  "'You are pretty, at least in your way, to have been put in the fields,' she said.

  "'I was punished,' I said. 'I served the paga of one of my master's retainers at an incorrect temperature.'

  "'Stupid slave,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'And after your time in the fields you were returned to the house, and assigned to the quarters of Milo?'

  "'Yes, Mistress.'

  "'Keep your head in position,' she said.

  "'Yes Mistress,' I said.

  "It was painful, holding my head back in that way. My neck hurt. I was frightened, and in pain.

  "Why are free women so cruel to us, Master?"

  "Continue," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "'And Milo has never touched you?' she said.

  "'Not as you think, Mistress,' I said.

  "'But you were touched?' she asked, suspiciously.

  "'Of course, Mistress,' I said. 'I was cuffed, and kicked, and switched. I am a slave.'

  "'But you were never touched—in the way of the man?' she pressed.

  "'No, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Interesting,' she said.

  "My hands twisted behind me, in the bracelets. How effective are such devices! Men know well how to keep us helpless!

  "She must have noted my tiny, futile struggle.

  "'You love Milo!' she announced suddenly. 'You! I see it! You! You silly little chit, you meaningless little collared slut! You, who are less than a verr or tarsk, you who are less than the dirt on the street, love Milo!'

  "'So, too, do a thousand women in Ar!' I cried."

  I was very much impressed with the wit and ingenuity with which Lavinia had conducted her interview with the Ubara. She was clever, inventive, and cunning. I had little doubt she had succeeded in deluding the Ubara. In one aspect, however, I fear, and this struck me suddenly, she had revealed a profound, if tragic, truth. The poor little slave was, indeed, in love with the handsome Milo. Had he been free, of course, he might have had his choice, I did not doubt, amongst hundreds of wealthy, highborn women. Poor Lavinia, even when free, and reasonably well placed, would have had little hope, all things considered, of entering into a companionship with the fabulous Milo. And now, of course, she was not even free, but only a slave, and no more than some thousands of other unknown, unrecognized, embonded wenches, and that in Ar alone, serving in their collars.

  "'There are many slaves in the house of Appanius,' she said. 'Which does he summon to his furs?'

  "I fear, Master, she was jealous. And I think not many would have cared to be that slave who found favor with Milo, at least if the Ubara were to learn of it. But I responded, 'Alas, beautiful Mistress, to their misery, none.'

  "'None?'

  "'I fear he has thoughts, and eyes, for only one woman,' I said.

  "'Oh?' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said. 'And I fear it is she, and she alone, to whom his heart belongs.'

  "'And who might this woman be?' she asked.

  "'Perhaps Mistress can guess,' I said.

  "'He is a fool to write such a note,' she suddenly said, touching her robes, within which she had concealed the note.

  "I did not respond, Master, but surely Milo is no fool!"

  "I do not know if he is a fool or not," I said, "but he did not, at any rate, write the note."

  "True," she said.

  "Continue," I said.

  "'Are we the only ones who know of this note,' she asked, 'Milo, I and yourself?'

  "'I think so, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Then,' she said, 'perhaps I should have your tongue cut out, and then have you skinned alive.'"

  "She would not do that," I said, "as she would need you as a go-between."

  "I trust Master is correct in his assumption," said Lavinia.

  "I would think so," I said.

  "That would seem to borne out by her subsequent remark, that she herself would not be so foolish as to have written such a note."

  I nodded.

  "After a time, she said, 'You may bring your head forward.'

  "'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.

  "It was a great relief to bring my head forward. My neck was sore."

  "Sometimes a slave is interrogated in that posture," I said, "because it makes them feel uneasy, makes them feel commanded, vulnerable and helpless. They cannot even evade the scrutiny of the interrogator, by, say, lowering their head in distress or fear."

  "'Do you think we should have our mad, rash boy, Milo, burned alive?' she asked.

  "'I would hope,' I said, 'that Mistress would to some extent, in view of her fabled beauty and the damage that even the thought of it
may wreak in the hearts of poor men, be rather moved to pity, be rather moved to look leniently on this bold transgression.'

  "She smiled.

  "'Is morning to be blamed that it should glow in the light of the sun, or the tides that they are drawn by the moons, or oil that it cannot help but burn at the touch of fire?'

  "'Perhaps not,' she said, the vain, haughty thing!"

  "Continue," I said.

  "'Whereas you must understand that I am not personally in the least interested in matters such as these,' said she, 'there may be a woman of my acquaintance to whom such attentions may not be entirely unwelcome.'

  "'Mistress?' I asked. She thought I would believe this!

  "'I shall have to consult with her,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Ludmilla, of Ar,' she said."

  "Ah!" I said.

  "This is meaningful to Master?" asked the slave.

  "I think so," I said. "I am not sure. It is something I have long suspected."

  "Master?" asked the slave.

  "In any event," I said, "that is apparently the name she will use for her intrigue."

  "That I had gathered, Master," said the slave.

  "I do not think, at any rate," I said, "that it is a mere accident that that name occurred to her, as on the spur of the moment."

  "Perhaps not, Master," said the girl, puzzled.

  To be sure, there are many Ludmillas in Ar, as there are many Publias, Claudias, and so on. Indeed, there are doubtless several Talenas.

  "'But it is you, Mistress,' I protested, 'not some other, for whom the beautiful Milo pines, as a sickened verr.'

  "She laughed. She thought me stupid, doubtless."

  "Continue," I said.

  "'You will speak to him of Ludmilla,' she said. 'He will understand.'

  "'How shall I know this Ludmilla, or he know her?'

  "'You will report to me,' she said. 'All matters will be arranged through me.'

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'And the first thing you will tell him is that Ludmilla scolds him for his foolishness in sending such a note, and warns him to quake in terror of having incurred her displeasure for having done so,' and then she added, thoughtfully, 'and yet that she is inclined, as is her nature, to be merciful, indeed, that she is not altogether unmoved by his plight.'