by John Norman
"Perhaps Master desires to remove the belt from me," I said. "As I am bound, I cannot do so."
"Do you know that you are beautiful?" he asked.
"Some men have been kind enough to tell me so," I said. "I do not know, of course, if they are correct or not."
"They are correct," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said. It pleased me if Mirus should find me beautiful. He was a strong and handsome master. I wanted to serve him.
"Are you familiar with the ratings posted in the baths?" he asked.
"I have heard of such things," I said, reddening.
"In several of them," said he, "you now hold highest ranking in the tavern of Hendow."
"Higher than Inger?" I asked. "Then Aynur, than Tupita?"
"Yes," he said. "In some of them, at least."
"I am not better than them, really," I said. "I am sure of that." "That is for men to decide," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, frightened.
"But," said he, grinning, "you are probably right. You are all, doubtless, ultimately, very similar. You are all marvelous slaves. Such ratings are notoriously subjective. Some women will appeal more to one man, and some to another. Too, you are newer, and thus fresher to the tastes, and this perhaps accounts at least in part for your position in the rankings. When your popularity has crested you will perhaps subside to being merely another luscious and marvelous slave."
I looked at him.
"Too, you are a dancer," he said, "and this has undoubtedly improved your position. Many dancers, even plainer ones, hold high rankings."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"But one thing is certain," he said, "suck rankings, even granting their subjectivity, and their silliness, and all the nonsense and absurdity associated with them, point to something, and that is your beauty and desirability." I looked at him, frightened.
"You are one of the most beautiful and desirable slaves in Brundisium," he said. "I am in your grasp," I whispered.
I would have pressed my belly against him but I could not do so. He held me from him. I would have reached forth to touch him, but I could not do so. My hands had been bound behind my back, by his will.
"Hendow has received several offers for you," he said, "excellent ones, but he has not sold you."
I was startled. So simply I could change masters!
"Do you wish to know their nature?" he asked.
"Curiosity," I said, humbly, "is not becoming in a kajira."
"Very well," he said.
"Please! Please!" I begged.
"Two of them were from other tavern owners," he said. "But several have been from private individuals."
I wondered what it would be like to have a private master. I would surely try to serve such a one well. Almost all girls hope, someday, to have a private master. "What were the amounts?" I asked, eagerly.
"You are a slave, aren" t you?" he asked.
"Yes!" I said.
"One was for seven tarsks," he said.
"Seven!" I cried. "I am not worth so much."
"True," he said. "I myself only offered five."
"Five!" I cried.
"Yes," he admitted.
"You made an offer on me?" I asked, delighted.
"Yes," he said.
I wondered what it would be like to be owned by Mirus. Slaves often wonder what it would be to be owned by this man, or that. I found him extremely attractive. If he purchased me, I would certainly try to serve him well. Of course, too, any man who purchased me I would have to serve well, and, indeed, as I was a Gorean slave girl, in so far as I could, perfectly.
"I am not worth five tarsks," I laughed.
"True," he said.
"Why, then, did you offer so much?" I asked.
"I was drunk," he said.
"Tonight," I said, "I am not scheduled to return to the floor." "I know," he said.
"Master prepared the schedules," I laughed.
"Yes," he said.
"Summon me to your quarters," I whispered. "I will show you that maybe I am worth five tarsks after all!"
"Perhaps I will summon Tupita," he said.
"No, Doreen," I said.
"Did you know that Hendow is thinking of placing restrictions on your use?" he asked.
"Why would he do that?" I asked.
"I think he is fond of you," he said.
"I am pleased, if my master finds me pleasing," I said.
"Has he never ordered you to him?" asked Mirus.
"No," I said.
"Interesting," said Mirus. "Normally he disciplines new girls well." I shuddered. I had no doubt that Hendow, my master, could discipline a woman well. He seemed remote, and mighty. He was the master of the entire tavern, and of all the girls. There were twenty-seven of us. I was terrified of him. "But I do not think he will really put restrictions on your us," he said. "Why not?" I asked.
"I do not think it would be good for your discipline," he said.
"I understand," I said. In relationships between men and women, it is a common observation that the relationship tends to be improved considerably when the woman is subject to his usage. When she knows that that a fellow may, if he wishes, simply hurl her to his feet and put her to woman uses, she is likely to behave rather differently toward him than toward one who does not have this power over her.
"You have not displeased him lately, have you?" asked Mirus.
"Not to my knowledge," I said. "I hope not."
"Something is going to be done to you," he said.
"What?" I asked, apprehensively.
"But if you have not displeased him lately," he said, "I gather that it is not being inflicted as a punishment."
"What?" I asked.
"You haven" t heard?" he asked."No," I said.
"A leather worker is coming to the tavern tomorrow, with his kit," he said. "Why?" I asked.
"I" m sorry," he said. "I thought someone would have told you." "What?" I asked.
"It is nothing to fear," he said.
"What?" I said.
"It is done to many slaves," he said.
I looked at him, frightened.
"You have not displeased Hendow?" he asked.
"I do not think so," I said.
"That is what I thought," he said. "Then it is being done merely to improve you, to make you even more desirable."
"Please, Master," I said, "I am a helpless slave. What is to be done to me?" "Hendow is going to have your ears pierced," he said.
I looked at him, disbelievingly.
"It is true," he said, gravely.
I tried not to laugh.
"What is wrong?" he said.
I laughed, out loud in his grasp.
"I do not understand," he said.
"That is all?" I asked.
"All?" he asked. "Do you not understand the gravity of this?"
"I always wanted to have my ears pierced," I said. "Only I never had the courage."
"You wanted it?" he asked, startled.
"Yes," I said.
"What a slave!" he breathed.
"Oh?" I asked. To be sure, I was a slave, in my heart, as well as now, on this world, whether I wished it or not, and helplessly, in all public legality. "Surely you know that if such a thing were done to you," he said, "no man thereafter could look you except as a slave."
I laughed. "I am a slave," I said.
"It is so barbaric," he said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"How exciting you will be with your ears pierced," he said.
I smiled.
"You do not mind?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Interestingly enough," he said, "once it is done, afterwards, few girls mind. Indeed, many are thrilled with what has been done to them, and are eager to display themselves to men in their new condition, and delight and revel in the new ornaments which they may then wear, so excitingly enhancing their appearance."
"I can understand that," I said.
"You see," he said
, "it makes available to them a diverse and fantastic array of new adornments."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"How beautiful yo will be in such adornments!"
"It is my hope I will be pleasing to Masters," I said.
"You must understand, of course," he said, "that there are dangers inherent in having your ears pierced."
What dangers, Master?" I asked.
"Those attendant on having been made additionally desirable to strong men," he said.
"I understand," I said. I had recognized, of course, that such things as my garb, or lack of it, my brand, burned into my body, my collar, which I could not remove, placed on me by men, and such, and, above all, my condition, that of slave, had made me far more sexually stimulatory to men than I would otherwise have been but I had never, along the same lines, given much thought, or at least in detail, to the idea that, in this culture, similar effects might be consequent on things which, from the point of view of a girl from Earth, were as simple and familiar as having pierced ears or wearing earrings. To be sure, pierced ears, and wearing earrings, were stimulatory, too, I was sure, even to men of Earth, or, at least, to those who were capable of responding to such things, the piercings of the woman" s flesh, with its allegory of penetration, of her appropriate submission to the mastery, and the use of these piercings, making and recollecting them, to mount upon her beautiful adornments. I had sensed the barbaric and sexual connotations of these sorts of things on Earth, and, perhaps because of them, had always feared to have my ears pierced there. Here, of course, it was going to be done to me, whether I wished it or not. I was not discontented. I was, indeed, extremely pleased.
"I am eager to see you in such ornaments," he whispered.
"Kiss me," I whispered.
My hands were together behind my back. I could not part them without permission. "Perhaps if your ears were pierced," he said, "I should find your request irresistible."
"Then I hope, Master," I said, "that they shall soon be pierced." "They will be," he said.
I trembled, then, a bit, understanding then, a little more than before, what it might be, on this world, to have pierced ears.
He took his hands from my hips and put them further above me, to remove from my waist the double belt of coins.
I pressed my body against his.
"Were you given permission to approach me?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master." Swiftly I drew back, so that our bodies were not touching. But my breasts were but an ince from his broad, strong chest. And they were bound, and covered, in only tissures of slave silk. I felt much alive, and frustrated, and hot, and charged, and helpless. I was under his control, totally, I was even "bound by his will." My midriff was bared. This too, excited me, its exposure, and its nearness to him. I wanted to thrust my belly, in its low-hanging drape of delicate silk, against him. I felt his hands behind me, beneath mine, where I had them together, bound by his will.
"Please!" I begged.
I felt him disengage the large clasp at the back of the belt, to which both strands of coins, on each side, were fastened.
"Please," I said.
He took the belt and dropped it into the nearby sack, with the coined necklace and the coins I had picked up and brought back from the dancing floor, weighty in my lifted silk.
He looked down at me. My head came only to his shoulders.
"Do you beg?" he asked.
"Yes!" I said.
"Who begs?" he asked.
"Doreen begs," I said.
"Doreen what?" he asked.
Doreen, the slave, begs!" I said.
"To my lips, slave," he said.
Gratefully, eagerly, I pressed forward, rising on my toes, he half lifting me, his hands under my arms, holding me.
I melted to him.
"Unbind me!" I begged. I wanted to put my arms about him.
"Do you wish to be beaten?" he asked.
"No, Master!" I said.
We kissed, so together, the two of us, as to be almost one thing, and I almost swooned in his power. I fought, seemingly only half conscious for a moment, to keep my hands together behind my back. then he put me down and back a little. "I am still bound!" I moaned.
"And you may stay that way," he said, huskily.
"As Master pleases!" I said, sensing the urgency in him.
He then held me from him, by the arms.
"You have the ruby on its chain, which was on my forehead, and the pearls which were in my hair," is aid. "You have the coins cast by masters on the dancing floor, which I gathered for you. You have the necklace, the belt! The other things, the ornaments, the slave beads, the bells, are in the box. Surely now, you wish to store my silk!"
He smiled.
"Tear off my silk," I begged. "Take me here, on the tiles, in the passageway! I am ready! I beg for it!"
"Coin check," he said.
"Of course, Master!" I wept. How well he reminded me I was a slave! "Open your mouth," he said. I felt his finger run about within my mouth. Mirus was efficient. He would not forget to subject me to coin check.
"Hold still," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
He was thorough.
Some girls, I had been told, sometimes try to swallow small coins but this is foolish. The coin can be produced swiftly enough in such cases by emetics and laxatives. Similarly, her wastes my be subjected to unscheduled examinations. Too, even if she is successful in recovering the coin herself, there is usually little she can do with it. There are few places to conceal such objects in a cell or kennel. Similarly, she is often under surveillance, of one sort or another, by other slaves or free persons. Also, if she should be found to be in possession of a coin or coins, for example, by a tradesmen, guardsmen, or any free person, she will be expected to have an excellent explanation for this anomaly, which is then likely to be checked with her master. In most cities, even the touching of money, unless in an authorized situation, is prohibited to slaves. They cannot, of course, own money, any more than any other form of animal.
I looked at Mirus, tears in my eyes.
"What is going on here?" asked Hendow, who had approached down the passageway. Swiftly I knelt, and put my head to the floor before my master. My hands were still held behind me, as I had been bound by a man" s will.
"She has danced," said Mirus.:We have just completed coin check." "Lift your head," said Hendow.
Immediately I did so, and then knelt there, in the dancing silk, my knees wide, my hands behind my back, a woman before men, a slave before masters.
"I trust all the coins are accounted for," he said.
"I have not yet counted," said Mirus.
"Should she not be back on the floor by now?" asked Hendow. "She does not return to the floor tonight," said Mirus, "unless you wish to send her forth there."
"It is so on the schedule?" asked Hendow.
"Yes," said Mirus.
"Very well," said Hendow, and then continued on his way, through the curtain, out to the public area.
I looked up at Mirus.
"Stand," he said.
I did so. Then I was before him, again. My hands were still behind my back. He looked at me.
I lifted my rib cage a little. I pulled my arms back a bit, further accentuating my figure.
"Please," I whimpered.
"You should be returned to the slave area," he said, "or put in your kennel, where you belong."
"I do not belong in my kennel now," I pouted.
"Where do you belong now?" he asked.
"In your arms," I said.
"I do not think Hendow is pleased that I should hold you," he said. "I am free to all his men," I said, "and you are one of his men." "True," he said.
"Will you not summon me to your quarters tonight?" I asked, plaintively. "It is perhaps better that I not do so," he mused.
"As Master pleases," I said, indifferently, shrugging. I did not dare, of course, take my hands from behind my back.
He looked at me, and I tossed my head, haughtily, and looked away from him. I had not been dismissed yet, of course. I could not see his eyes, but I supposed he was considering whether or not I should be whipped. It could be done to me as simply as by his whim.
"So you think you are a free woman?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said.
"I thought you might," he said.
"No, Master," I said. "I am under no delusion on that score."
He must have been looking at me. I had the feeling I was being looked at, as a slave.
"Am I dismissed?" I asked.
"Beware," he said.
"Perhaps I have concealed a coin in my halter," I said, "or in a fold of my slave silk."
"Have you?" he asked, amused.
"You will not know, will you," I asked, "unless you have checked?" "You look well in slave silk," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"You would look better without it," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. He then unknotted the silk of the halter, from about my neck, and behind my back, and drew it away from me. I stood as close to him as I could, without actually daring to touch him.
I saw him lean forward and, his eyes briefly closed, revel in the scent of my perfume. It was perfume of a sort not worn by free women on Gor. It was slave perfume. Such perfume says to men, in effect, "This is a slave. Use her as you will."
"Are you haughty now?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"There are tears in your eyes," he said.
"My need is on me," I said, "and I am helpless."
He dropped the silk to the floor, beside him.
"You may kneel," he said.
Swiftly I knelt, and then looked up at him.
"Speak," he said.
"I, Doreen, the slave, beg use," I said.
He looked down upon me.
I squirmed on my knees before him, in misery and frustration, my hands behind my back.
"You are ready, aren" t you?" he asked.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Please touch me!" I wept.
"You beg it?" he said.
"Yes, Master!" I wept. "I beg it!"
"Since first I saw you, when I had unroped the shipping blanket, and put its folds to the sides, revealing you, helplessly manacled, when you first came to the house from Market of Semris," he said, "I dreamed that you would one day be so hot and needful before me, and would beg me for my touch."