Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt Page 12

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  “Yes,” I said.

  She had been relieved of her shackles, but her wrists were thonged behind her

  back. About her neck, however, there was now wound, in three close, unslippable

  loops, a heavy length of chain. Two links of this chain, not the end links, were

  fastened together in front with a heavy padlock. The two ends of the chain then,

  below the connected links, hung down in front, in an attractive, tielike,

  cravatlike, arrangement. There was a practical aspect to this as well, of

  course. The same chain, in virtue of the links selected, may be worn by any

  woman. Too, attached to this chaining, near the padlock, was a metal tag of some

  sort. I could not see it well in the darkness.

  “Then release me!” she whispered.

  “I do not understand,” I said.

  “You agreed this was a terrible mistake,” she whispered.

  “No,” I said. “Yes,’ that you were a free woman.”

  “I do not understand what I am doing here,” she said, “naked and tied beside

  you.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “It can not be that!” she said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “I am free!” she said.

  “But your bills are not paid,” I said.

  She made an angry noise.

  “It seems that this time you did not manage to inveigle some fellow into paying

  them for you.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “Not that,” she said.

  “Precisely,” I said.

  “I am not an inn girl,” she said. “I am a free woman! I am not subject to guest

  use!”

  “Were you told you were not subject to guest use?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, hesitantly.

  “So?” I said.

  (pg.93) “But I assumed, of course, as I was free—”

  “Are you a virgin?” I asked.

  “That is surely a personal matter,” she said. “Surely that is my own business.”

  “It would take only a moment for me to make the determination,” I said.

  “No,” she said, pulling back. “I am not a virgin.

  “It would seem then,” I said, “that at least once or twice you must have had to

  pay off fellows for their assistance.”

  “They were not gentlemen,” she said.

  “I think you will discover,” I said, “that from now on you no longer possess

  bargaining power in such matters.”

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “In the future,” I said, “I think you will find that you will no longer have

  control over the gratifications which might be attendant upon your uses, nor

  over the numbers, times or natures of them.”

  “I do not understand,” she said, frightened.

  “I am pleased you are not a virgin,” I said. “Thus our relationship can be much

  simpler.”

  “Am I truly available to you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I paid for you, for the Ahn.”

  “Paid?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It must have been terribly expensive,” she said.

  “The price of an inn girl here,” I said, “is three copper tarsks for the quarter

  of an Ahn.”

  “That is extremely expensive, is it not?” she asked.

  “Terribly so,” I agreed. I was not too pleased with the keeper. Surely he was a

  heinously gouging scoundrel. Other than that, however, he seemed a rather good

  fellow. Space 97, for example, did have one edge, the top edge, on the wall.

  “If a common inn girl costs so much,” she breathed, “how could you even begin to

  afford someone like me? You must have been devastatingly smitten with my

  beauty!”

  “You are actually a bit fat,” I said, “but I think that could be worked off you,

  with a sparing, judicious diet, complex exercises, suitable disciplines, and

  such.”

  “Perhaps I should try to be pleasing to you,” she said, impressed.

  (pg.94) “Why?” I asked. She was, after all, a free woman.

  “You must have paid at lest a golden tarn disk,” she said, “to have rights over

  me, for a whole Ahn.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Nine silver tarsks?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Five?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “I paid only a tarsk bit.”

  “What!” she said.

  “Shhh,” I cautioned her. “Do not awaken the guests.”

  “That is absurd!” she said. “I am a free woman.”

  “It is doubtless a great deal more than you are worth,” I said.

  “I will see to it,” she said, “that I do not give you any pleasure.”

  “I think,” I said, “you will find it difficult to do anything about that,” I

  pulled her to me.

  “Beast!” she said.

  “Your squirming,” I said, “is delightful.”

  She cried out in frustration, and then held herself as still as possible.

  I smiled to myself. How fortunate for this woman that she was a free female, and

  not a slave.

  “Yes,” she said, angrily, trying to hold herself still, her hands behind her,

  tied.

  I felt the tag, attached on the chain, near the padlock. “It seems to have the

  shape of a malformed tarn,” I said, “a crooked neck, an enlarged right leg and

  talons.”

  “It does,” she said, angrily.

  “It resembles the sign within the palisade then,” I said, “that which is visible

  for a pasang or so, down the road, the sign of the ‘Crooked Tarn’.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  I jerked the tag, playfully. “And where is this little tag?” I asked.

  “It is on me,” she said, seething, trying to hold herself still.

  “Does it have writing on it?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  (pg. 95) Surely it would.

  “They must have shown it to you before they put it on you.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “What does it say?” I asked.

  “Debtor,” she said. “Oh!” she said.

  “What else?” I asked.

  “My wrists have been thonged!” she said. “My hands have been tied behind my

  back! I cannot free them! Do you not know what that means? Do you not

  understand? I am helpless!”

  “You should have paid your bills,” I said. “I thought you were not supposed to

  move.”

  “Oh!” she said, angrily. Then, again, she said, “oh!” but softly, startled.

  I desisted in my attentions.

  She controlled herself, and did not press against me.

  “The word ‘debtor’ is in large letter,” she said. “B
eneath it, in smaller

  letters, it says ‘Inquire at the Crooked Tarn pertinent to Redemption Fees.’”

  “Would you like your hands untied?” I asked.

  “Yes!” she said.

  “Turn about,” I said.

  Swiftly she did so.

  “Ah,” I said.

  “Are you not going to untie my hands?” she asked, anxiously.

  “No!” I said.

  “Beast! Beast!” she said.

  I held her where she was.

  “I am a free woman!” she said.

  I desisted, again, in my attentions, but I kept her where she was.

  “I have never been near a man before,” she said, “like this.”

  “How does it make you feel?” I asked.

  “It makes me fee vulnerable,” she said.

  “You are vulnerable,” I said.

  The palms of her hands, as she was, faced me. The palms of a woman’s hands are

  extremely sensitive. I traced a little pattern in the palm of her right hand.

  (pg.96) “I am not a Kajira!” she said.

  The pattern I had traced in her palm was that of a small cursive ‘Kef’, the

  first letter in the expression ‘Kajira’. The cursive ‘Kef’, in one variation or

  another, is commonly used as a slave brand for females.

  “I suppose you had better get done with it,” she said.

  “With what?” I asked.

  “With my humiliation,” she said.

  “I see,” I said.

  She pushed back a bit, but, because I held her, she could not reach me.

  “You may use me,” she said. “I give you my permission.”

  “Your permission is not required,” I said.

  “I suppose not,” she said.

  “You are not in shackles,” I said.

  “They were removed,” she said.

  “Why do you suppose that was?” I asked.

  “To make me more convenient to guests, it would seem,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I am untying your hands,” I said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “You sound disappointed,” I said.

  “Certainly not!” she said.

  I did wrap the thong about her left wrist, tucking in the ends. In this way it

  would remain upon her body, and be immediately available, if I wished to make

  use of it later. The symbolism of this, and the convenience of it, would not

  elude the Lady Temione. She was Gorean.

  “May I turn about?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Do you think the keeper’s man anticipated that the thong might be removed?” she

  asked.

  “He would certainly suppose it might be,” I said. “He would recognize, of

  course, that it might be removed from your body, or, indeed, be used to tie you

  in any one of a hundred other ways.

  She shuddered.

  “But now that I am not shackled, or bound,” she said, “might I not escape?”

  (pg. 97) “You are within the palisade,” I said.

  “That is true,” she said, thoughtfully.

  “Too, even if you were outside the palisade, I do not think you would get too

  far, naked, with a chain on your neck, the identifying tag, and so on.”

  “May I turn about?” she asked.

  “Very well,” I said.

  “Am I attractive?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “For a free woman?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I wish,” she whispered, “that I was attractive, even for a slave.”

  “I would not trouble myself, if I were you,” I said, “about my lack of slave

  attractiveness.”

  “The warrior in the paga room,” she said, “did not want me. He rejected me!”

  “You are only a free woman,” I reminded her.

  “You received kisses from the women outside, those chained to the rings,” she

  said, “Amina, Rimice, and the others, if I may believe you.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And I told you,” she said, “that you would never receive one from me.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I recall that.”

  “I relent,” she said.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “Yes,” she said. “You may kiss me.”

  I did not kiss her.

  “May I kiss you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Softly her lips met mine. It was a brief, delicate kiss, frightened. Then she

  drew back.

  “What is wrong?’ I asked.

  “I am afraid of my feelings,” she said.

  “They are a part of you,” I said. “Do not be afraid of them.”

  “Let us get on with it,” she said, suddenly, angrily.

  “With what?” I asked.

  “Your use of me,” she said.

  “I see,” I said.

  (pg.98) “I owe a silver tarsk, five,” she said, miserably. “If you have paid

  only a tarsk bit for my use, it will take me, at that rate, months to earn my

  redemption from the keeper.”

  I was silent.

  “So take me in your cruel arms like iron,” she said. “Force me to pant and

  sweat, and kiss. Hurry!”

  “There is something I think you must understand, first,” I said.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “You owe a silver tarsk, five,” I said, “and I have paid a tarsk bit for your

  use, for an Ahn, but that does not mean that you are then reducing your debt by

  a tarsk bit.”

  “What?” she said.

  “The usual arrangement in such matters,” I said, “which doubtless obtains,

  unless you have been informed differently, is that the money you are earning,

  you are earning not for yourself, but for the keeper. It does not in any way

  diminish your debt.”

  “No!” she said.

  “Yes,” I said. “In this way the keeper gets some good out of you. Too, in this

  way he is less likely to lose money on, say, your feed.”

  “Then,” she said, “he could keep me here as long as he wants! I could be kept

  here at his mercy, in this terrible place, as long as it is his will!”

  “You might, of course, be redeemed,” I pointed out.

  “Yes!” she said, eagerly. “I must fine a splendid gentleman, and piteously beg

  that!”

  I did not, personally , think she would now be as successful in that sort of

  thing as she might have been earlier, when fully clothed. It is one thing for a

  free woman, tearfully, while in the dignity of robes and veil, to attempt to

  impose on a fellow’s gullibility or good nature, and quite another for her to do

  so when she is unclothed. When a woman is naked it is sometimes hard for a man

  not to see her as a female. Clearly, too, the Lady Temione’s body suggested the

  exquisite
latency of slave curves.

  “Perhaps you will find some fellow willing to do so,” I said, “who will then

  expect that you will fling yourself into his arms, agreeing to be his

  companion.”

  “Yes,” she said, thoughtfully.

  (pg.99) “I gather that that sort of thing has worked for you before,” I said.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And his reward then,” I speculated, “would be a grateful peek through your

  veil?”

  “I am a free woman,” she said. “I trust not.”

  “Perhaps, then, a grateful glance, a squeezing of a hand, a heartfelt utterance

  of thanks?”

  “The important thing,” she said, “is to make certain that your bills have been

  paid, and that you are in the clear. After that, you may simply leave. I often

  merely turn my back upon them, for they are fools. They stand there then,

  knowing they have been tricked.”

  “I would suppose that that sort of thing might not work with all men,” I said,

  “perhaps not with even all gentlemen.”

  “True,” she said, “it is wise to reward some with at least the squeezing of the

  hand, an expression of gratitude, or such, before hurrying away.”

  “You must leave a few frustrated fellows in your wake,” I speculated.

  “I enjoy frustrating me,” she said, angrily. I gathered from her vehemence that

  she was disappointed in men, that she had decided to despise them, that she

  wished to hold them in contempt. I gathered, too, however, that she was

  fascinated with them, and that something in her feared them, or what they might

  be.

  “Fortunately I managed to elude them,” she said.

  “I wonder what they had on their mind,” I said.

  “I have no idea,” she said.

  On Earth, as I understand it, there are certain romantic notions about, for

  example, that heroes may expect to ““in” damsels in distress, so to speak, by

  the performance of certain heroic behaviors, which, for example, might bode

  little good to dragons, evil wizards, wicked knights, and such. These damsels in

  distress, once rescued, are then expected to elatedly bestow their fervent

  affections on the blushing, bashful heroes, and so on. Needless to say, in real

  life, to the disappointment, and sometimes chagrin, of the blushing, bashful

 

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