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

Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt Page 21

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  I removed my hand from the strip of cloth tucked behind the cord, at her belly.

  “Keep your hands behind your neck,” I said.

  “Why are you doing this?” she moaned.

  “You still have more to wear than most women in this camp,” I said.

  She choked back a sob.

  “Tomorrow morning,” I said, “your neck will be in a coffle collar.”

  She looked at me, wildly.

  “You will be on a chain, with other free women. You will be in the keeping of my

  friend, and agent, Ephialtes, as sutler. He will take care of you, or sell you,

  or whatever, as seems appropriate. It was my intention that you be put in slave

  strips in order that your sense of vulnerability, and your passion, suitably,

  might be increased. Too, in this fashion, I am, to some extent, preparing you

  for the terrors and exposures of the coffle. I have removed one slave strip as a

  punishment, and a sign of my power over you. To be sure, this will even (pg.163)

  further increase your sense of vulnerability, and your passion. Too, it may also

  better prepare you for what you might experience on the coffle, the scrutiny and

  attentions of men, for example. The other women, incidentally, will be stripped,

  totally, and their heads have been shaved. As you will, at least for a time,

  have a slave strip, and your hair, you will be regarded as the ‘first’ of the

  free women. All of you, however, will be subject to Liadne, a slave. She will be

  first girl over you. She has whip rights, and so on, over you, and behind her is

  the power of men.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  “She has also been given a slave tunic,” I said.

  “How often,” smiled Phoebe, “did I, as a free woman, feel repulsion and horror

  at even the sight of such scanty, revealing garments, in which slaves were put.

  Not I would be grateful for so much.

  I smiled. The tunic, in its way, put Liadne a thousand times above her charges.

  “But she is a slave, is she not?” asked Phoebe.

  “Yes,” I said. Thus Liadne, tunic or not, was infinitely far beneath her.

  Indeed, they were not even comparable. They were not even on the same scale. One

  was a person, the other was an animal.

  “I would that I were as she,” she said.

  “Perhaps, someday, you will be,” I said.

  “My arms are weary,” she said. “May I lower them?”

  “No,” I said.

  “May I confess something to you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “When in Cos, and elsewhere, as a free woman,” she said, “I saw slaves in slave

  tunics I told you that I felt horror and repulsion.”

  “Yes?” I said.

  “But even more,” she said, “I wanted myself to be put in such a tunic, and be

  similarly subject to men!”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “As I am a free woman,” she said, “I am shamed, keenly, to wear what I now wear,

  but, if I were a slave, I do not think I would be shamed. I think, rather, I

  would be grateful, for I might as easily have been accorded nothing. Similarly,

  I do not really think I would object, if I were a (pg.164) slave, and not a free

  woman, to being naked on a chain. I think, rather, I would feel grateful and

  very proud, that men had found me attractive enough, and exciting enough, to put

  me there.”

  “There are many aspects to slavery,” I said.

  “I think I am aware of aspects, from the point of view of my female

  fulfillments, that you, as a man, may not fully understand,” she said.

  “Perhaps,” I said. “I do know that woman make excellent slaves.”

  “Have you never wondered why?” she asked.

  “Perhaps because they are slaves,” I said.

  “Yes!” she said.

  “Such as you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Yet even so,” I said, “I suspect that there are senses of slavery, and aspects

  of slavery, that one can never fully fathom or anticipate until the experience

  is real for one.”

  “Doubtless,” she said, shuddering.

  I regarded her. She was lovely, kneeling before me, in the slave strip and cord,

  her hands clasped behind the back of her neck.

  “May I lower my arms now?”

  “No,” I said.

  “You are training me, aren’t you?” she said.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “I am afraid,” she said.

  “Do you know why I had you kneel as you are?” I asked.

  “That you might busy yourself with my garmenture, without interference,” she

  said.

  “Are you modest?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “I am a free woman.”

  “But when you first presented yourself before me, at the inn,” I said, “you had

  bared your breasts.”

  “I think I have pretty breasts,” she said.

  “You do,” I said.

  “I bared them,” she said, “because I did not wish to risk rejection.”

  “So that is the sort of woman you are,” I said.

  “Yes,” she said.

  (pg.165) “So not,” I said, “how you could possibly object if you must display

  them again, and as I see fit, even as a slave?”

  she put down her head.

  “You may lower your arms,” I said.

  She lowered her arms, and knelt back, on her heels.

  “Knees spread,” I said.

  She complied.

  “The slave strips looks well, fallen between your thighs,” I said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Your thighs are pretty,” I said.

  She blushed.

  “Yes,” I said, “and your belly and breasts, and the rest of you.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Yes, you are remarkably lovely,” I said. “Yes, I think you would make a lovely

  slave.”

  She trembled.

  “What is wrong?” I asked.

  “I am afraid,” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I do not know anything of being a slave,” she said, “should it be done to me! I

  know nothing of pleasing men! I do not even know the drapings of tunics, the

  tying of slave girdles!”

  “Should you become a slave,” I said, “submit yourself to your sisters in

  bondage, not as one who was recently a free woman but as one who is now the

  lowest and most ignorant of slaves, the humblest of tyros and novices. Watch

  them. Learn from them. Serve them. Bring them small treats which you might earn.

  Beg them to help you, to teach you their ways, their arts and secrets. Even such

  small things as the use of the tongue can make a great difference in whether you

  survive or not.”

  She trembled.

  “Reach now,” I said, “to the cord at the left side of your waist.”

  “I do not even know how to strip myself b
efore a man,” she said, in misery.

  “There are a thousand ways in which it may be done,” I said.

  (pg.166) She touched the cord. Her fingers were on it. Then she looked up at me.

  “How might a slave do this?” she asked.

  “In one of a thousand ways,” I smiled.

  She moaned.

  “A typical way might be as follows,” I said. “The girl might stand or kneel

  before the master. She might say, ‘Your property begs to be permitted to reveal

  herself to you.’ Then, if the permission is granted, she does so.”

  “Your property begs to be permitted to reveal herself to you,” she whispered,

  softly.

  “But,” I said, “as you are a free woman, you are not my property.”

  She regarded me.

  “And so I do not grant you permission.”

  “Are you angry?” she asked.

  “No,” I said, angrily. The slave was so visible in her, so near the surface,

  that it was maddening. How it strove to emerge, and become her, totally! That

  she, such a woman, should still be free was an outrage to all justice and

  rationality. Her thigh should bear a brand! She belonged in a collar!

  “Master?” she asked.

  I forced myself to remember that she, fittingly or not, absurdly or not, was at

  least at this moment, free.

  “Master!” she pleaded.

  She was not now a slave. I must accord her dignity and respect!

  “Collar me!” she begged.

  I seized her by the arms.

  I held her.

  But then, in the distance, we heard the trumpets, the horns.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It is the recall,” I said. “The assault has been terminated.”

  “The city has not yet fallen,” she said.

  “No,” I said.

  I released her.

  “Shall I build up the fire?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  I went outside the tent and scuffed some dirt over the remains of the fire and

  then reentered the tent, and, from the inside, tied shut the flaps.

  “It is dark,” she said.

  (pg.167) “Lie down,” I said.

  I removed my belt, and tunic, and crouched beside her.

  I put my hand down, into her hair, and lifted her head a bit, and turned it, in

  the darkness. With my other hand, I touched her neck.

  “Collar me,” she begged.

  It would have been easy enough to do so, there in the darkness of the tent.

  “No,” I said.

  I then put her back, on her back in the dirt.

  “Lift your body,” I said.

  She obeyed.

  “Shall I free the cord?” she sobbed.

  “I shall do so,” I said.

  “Do not leave me tomorrow,” she begged.

  “I must,” I said.

  I laid aside the cord and strip. “Do not lower your body,” I said.

  “It is now lifted to you, as though it were that of a slave,” she said.

  I put my hand on her, gently.

  “Oh!” she said, squirming.

  “Excellent,” I said.

  She sobbed.

  “I think,” I said, “you might bring a high price in a slave market.”

  “Do not leave me,” she begged.

  “I must,” I said.

  10 The Trenches; The Wall

  (pg.168) “Behold Klio, the free woman,” I said, whipping the sheet from her.

  She was on all fours in the trench and looked up, about her, with alarm, at the

  men.

  There was raucous laughter.

  I put a leash on her neck.

  “She has already made her contribution to the success of Cos,” laughed a fellow.

  “But not of her own free will, I wager,” laughed another.

  “You have leashed me!” protested Klio, looking back at me.

  There was more laughter from the men.

  “Keep you head down,” one of the fellows advised me.

  “There is not so much need now,” said another fellow. “They seldom fire now

  without a clear target.”

  “Where am I?” asked Klio.

  “You are within two hundred yards of Ar’s Station,” I informed her.

  She trembled. This was the most advanced of the Cosian siege trenches. Even the

  openings to the mines, now gated, and closely guarded, were further to the rear.

  The only closer entrenchments were sapping trenches, partly covered with wood,

  leading directly towards the walls. There were used not only for attempting

  undermine the walls, but also for providing cover to men advancing for assaults.

  The sapping (pg.169) trench, of course, requires much less labor on the part of

  the besiegers but, too, it is less difficult to detect and stop than the mines.

  The mine, of course, need not stop at the wall, but can proceed within the city

  and when opened, pour soldiers out, behind the walls. The wall mine is usually

  terminated in place with a system of supports. Then later, concerted with an

  attack, these supports may be burned or, more dangerously, struck away. The

  coordination between the collapse of the wall and the attack can be sharpened

  when the supports are struck away, the same signal, say, the blast of trumpets,

  initiating both actions.

  “Where is Elene?” asked Klio. When we had left Ephialtes this morning I had

  taken both Elene, from Tyros, and Klio, from Telnus, along. Elene had been the

  third woman of the debtor sluts. She was the only one who had been a blonde.

  Klio had been second at the wall.

  “I sold her, a hundred yards or so back,” I said.

  What!” cried Klio.

  I had redeemed her, by means of Ephialtes, at the Crooked Tarn, for thirty-five

  copper tarsks, the cost of her bill, but I had sold her for forty, a modest,

  almost irresistible price, considering the value of women here, at least prior

  to the city’s fall. A squad had chipped in and bought her. She would serve them

  all. Later they would probably play stones, or roll dice, for her. I had

  conveyed to the men, as though by inadvertence, that I suspected she might have

  little value as she had had her head shaved. I had suggested, too, I think, that

  I might be in need of money. As I was I made a profit on her which, when I had

  left the Crooked Tarn, I had never really counted upon, nor even anticipated. To

  me she had not been so much a property on which to make a profit as an

  instrumentality in my plans. Still, in her way, she was a property, and,

  accordingly, I was not displeased to be able not only to utilize her in my plans

  but also make some money on her.

  Her blond hair would in time grow out again and the soldiers would discover that

  she had an additional loveliness. Eventually I had no doubt she would bring a

  high price. Auburn hair is generally thought to be the most prized hair on Gor,

  but I myself generally prefer brunets. This is not to deny (pg.170) that blonde,

  suitably enslaved, and desperate to please, are not without interest. Blondes

  sometimes bring higher prices as their hair color is rarer, but once they are

&
nbsp; home, in the collar, they are, of course, no more than any other slave. In the

  end, in my opinion, the crucial factor is the individual girl. Everything

  depends on the individual slave.

  “Yes, sold,” I said, answering Klio’s look of disbelief. There was laughter from

  the men.

  “And before I sold her,” I said, “she performed well.”

  “No, please!” said Klio.

  I had, as though looking for a good price first on Elene, made my way through

  the network of trenches toward the walls of Ar’s Station. A trench back, one of

  the siege trenches, I had sold her. Some of the fellows from this trench, the

  forward trench, had come back to watch. There had been no difficulty in moving

  through the trenches in my guise as a mercenary with one or two women to sell. I

  had followed them back, at their own behest, through one of the connecting

  trenches, to the lead trench. We had herded Klio before us, under the sheet, on

  all fours, encouraging her occasionally with a foot or the blow of the looped

  slave leash, not yet on her at that time.

  “Did you already sell the best one?” asked on the men.

  “You might think so, or not,” I said. “I do not know. I think, from my own point

  of view, that I would prefer this one.”

  Klio looked back at me, frightened.

  “I think I would prefer this one, too,” said one of the fellows who had come

  back with me.

  “She is a well-shaped beauty,” said one of the men.

  “Sirs!” protested Klio.

  “We should have the best,” said a fellow, “as we are the closest to the enemy.”

  “Keep a lookout,” said one of the men to another, one standing on a low wooden

  platform, at the forward edge of the trench.

  “I think I would prefer her, too,” said another.

  “Yes,” said another.

  Klio looked about, I could see she was pleased to be so approved of, in her

  basic elements, as a naked female, but, (pg.171) too, she was alarmed, having

  some inkling as to what might be the entailments of such preferences.

  “Have her perform,” said one of the men.

  I shook the slave leash, now on her. This movement was transmitted through the

  leather, until it jerked and snapped at the ring, on the leash collar.

  “No,” said Klio, “please!”

 

‹ Prev Next ›