Slave Girl of Gor

by John Norman

  "I know you would, Teela," said Bina.

  "I have your interest, too, at heart," I said.

  "I am sure you do," she said. "But you do not understand us. You do not understand Goreans."

  "I want to be free," I snapped.

  "Look at yourself in the long mirror, Teela," said Bina.

  I did so, and saw there a marvelous girl, soft and perfumed, branded; she wore a bit of netting, and jewelry; she wore earrings; she was collared.

  "What do you see there?" asked Bina.

  "A slave girl," I said.

  "Do you think a girl such as you, so soft and beautiful, with your slave reflexes, can ever be anything but a slave on this world."

  "No," I said, bitterly.

  "And your ears are pierced," she said.

  I tossed my head. "I know," I said. That in itself I knew would be enough to keep me a slave on Gor.

  I would always be a slave on Gor.

  "Abandon then your mad plan to reveal my former identity to Thandar of Ti," said Bina.

  "No," I said.

  She looked at me, angrily.

  "I could win for myself, and you," I said, "if nothing better, an easier slavery."

  "No," she said.

  "Do you think I want to be only a paga girl?" I asked. "Do you think being a paga girl is an easy slavery for a girl of Earth? I am not as you. I am more sensitive. Do you think I like being at the bidding and mercy of any male who can afford a cup of paga?"

  "If you spoke to Thandar of Ti," said Bina, "you would win for us both only a whipping."

  "I shall take that chance," I said.

  "I am sorry," said Bina. "You shall not."

  "Out of my way," I said.

  "This is a matter between slaves," she said, "and I have decided it."

  "You may think to serve him like a little fool, he not knowing who you are," I said, "but I shall not permit that."

  "Hurry! Hurry!" called one of the other girls.

  "We must hurry," I cried, miserably.

  "It is your intention then," said Bina, "to inform Thandar of Ti of my former identity."

  "Yes," I said, "I shall. I will gamble anything for an easier slavery. Now get out of my way."

  She did not move, but looked at me, angrily.

  "I am stronger than you," I said. "Get out of my way." Surely she remembered how easily I had robbed her of the candy earlier in the afternoon. She was no match for me.

  Suddenly I cried out, as she leaped upon me, tearing and scratching. I could scarcely defend myself. She seized me by the hair and threw me headlong across one of the vanity tables before the long mirror. I slid on the table scattering combs and perfume. She was on my back, tearing down the netting, fouling my legs in it. I still wore the hook bracelets. She pulled my wrists behind my back and, swiftly, snapped together the leather cuffs; I twisted on the vanity table, and fell to the floor, my wrists confined by the linked snaps behind my back. "I shall scream!" I cried. Swiftly Bina thrust a scarf in my mouth, wadding it tightly, and fastened it in place with another scarf, pulling the second scarf tight behind my neck, and deeply between my teeth. She then, with the netting, tied together my ankles. She then found another hunter's net, but one which had not been cut. She threw the net over me and, drawing tight its strings, confined me helplessly in it. She then pulled me by the cords to the side of the room. She sat me against the wall and, using the four cords of the net, tying them through a slave ring at the foot of the wall, fastened me, netted, to the wall.

  I squirmed in the netting, but could not free myself. I looked at her in fury.

  "You are the catch of the huntress," said Bina.

  "Bina!" I heard. "Teela!"

  "I am coming," cried Bina. "Teela is ill!" She then blew me a kiss, and hurried out of the room.

  I struggled, helplessly.

  * * * *

  It was the first hour in the morning, of the same night, when Bina returned.

  She was radiant.

  She removed the netting from me, and the gag from my mouth.

  "Thandar of Ti?" I asked.

  "He is gone now," she said. She happily undid the netting which confined my ankles.

  "You did not tell him?" I asked.

  "No," she said. "Of course not."

  "You are a fool," I said.

  "It was I," she said, "of the six girls whom he chose to pour his paga."

  "Six?" I asked.

  "When you were taken ill," she laughed, "Busebius sent Helen to serve with us."

  "I see," I said. "Would you please unsnap the hook bracelets?"

  In an instant, with infuriating ease, she had opened the snaps, freeing my wrists, one from the other. I was furious. It was so simple. She who wears the bracelets, of course, cannot reach the snaps.

  "It was I, too," said Bina, dreamily, "whom he took to serve him in the alcove." She closed her eyes, holding herself with her arms. "Oh, how beautiful he is," she said, "and how well I served him." She opened her eyes. "The pleasure he gave me!" she moaned. "I could not believe the pleasure." She looked at me, directly. "How fortunate it is," she said, "that I did not become his companion."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "For then, this night, I could not have been his slave," she whispered.

  "Oh," I said.

  "I shall remember all my life," she said, "the night I was slave to Thandar of Ti."

  I looked down. I remembered the joy of once having been the slave of Clitus Vitellius, of having been his to dominate and command.

  Then I remembered that I hated him.

  "Teela," said a voice, a man's voice, that of Busebius.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Are you feeling better now?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Why then," he asked, "are you not in your silk and pouring paga?"

  I looked at his whip.

  "I hurry, Master!" I said, quickly.

  * * * *

  "Paga!" called a man, and I, in bells and silk, hurried to him, to pour him drink.

  I was barefoot on the tiles. The slave bells, thonged, were tied about my left ankle.

  There were fewer now in the tavern, and in another Ahn or two we would close the doors.

  Some of the girls, already, had been permitted to retire. I knelt before the man and poured him paga, head down.

  The hook bracelets had been removed from my wrists by Busebius, who held their key.

  I wore only bells and silk. It was late. The earrings, the necklace, the armlet, I had left in the room of preparation. I was now only a simple paga slave.

  Only one other girl was on the floor.

  "Paga," said a man's voice. I turned toward him. I saw he sat with a second man.

  I knelt before them, head down, and poured the paga into his cup.

  "Serve me the paga," said the man.

  I put down the paga flask which I carried that I might, unencumbered, assume the position of serving paga, or wine, to a Gorean male.

  "First remove the silk," he said.

  I did so. He was a customer. I was his to command.

  Then I knelt naked before him, head down.

  "You may now serve the paga," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  I reached to take the cup, in both hands. One kneels, one proffers the cup, head down, with both hands, to the male.

  I reached to take the cup.

  Suddenly, on my closely placed wrists, as I went to lift the cup, with a startling flash of metal and two swift snaps, slave bracelets locked.

  I looked up, startled.

  "No!" I cried.

  "We have you," he said. I tried to jerk back but his hand, on the chain between the bracelets, held me, my hands confined in his bracelets.

  "You have been the object of an intensive and difficult search," said the second voice.

  I regarded them, terrified.

  "I have sold you for two tarsks to these gentlemen," said Busebius. I felt him remove the t
honged slave bells from my left ankle. He placed them on the table. I felt him thrust a key into the small, heavy lock at the back of my collar. He opened it, and placed it, too, on the table. "She is yours, Masters," he said.

  "Oh, no, no!" I begged.

  Busebius turned and left the table.

  "We have paid two silver tarsks for you," said one of the men. I knelt naked before them, horrified, wearing their bracelets.

  "You are now ours," said the other man.

  "Do not kill me," I begged.

  "Serve us paga," said the first man.

  Trembling I, nude, braceleted, head down, arms extended, proffered paga first to one, and then the other. They drank slowly, enjoying their triumph and my misery.

  "We must now be on our way," said the first man.

  Each took one of my arms, and between them, I half thrust, half dragged, they forced me from the paga tavern.

  "Please do not kill me," I begged.

  They were the two men whom I had first encountered on Gor, when I had awakened, nude, chained by the neck in the wilderness. They had, at one point, prepared to cut my throat.

  "Please do not kill me!" I begged. "Please, Masters, do not kill me!"

  Between them, held, braceleted, I was forced from the tavern, and out onto the long bridge, into the Gorean night.

  15

  I am Spoken to by My Mistress

  I was thrown to the tiles before the recumbent figure seated on the curule chair.

  "This is your mistress," said one of the men, indicating the recumbent figure, with lovely figure, veiled and gowned who sat easily, regally, on the curule chair.

  I looked up from my knees, her slave. The bracelets had been removed from me. I had been placed in a brief white house tunic, sleeveless.

  I was barefoot. It was all I wore.

  "Leave us," said the seated woman. The two men withdrew.

  I put my head down to the tiles, alone with my mistress.

  "Lift your head, Judy," said the woman.

  I looked up, startled.

  "Do you not know me, Judy?" asked the woman.

  "No, Mistress," I said.

  The woman put back her head and laughed merrily.

  My mind raced. I could not know her. And yet she spoke as though I should know her. And she had called me Judy. I had not been called Judy since I had left Earth.

  "Judy Thornton," laughed the woman. I detected by her laughter that she was young, that she, too, was only a girl, save perhaps that she might be a bit older than I. My mistress was a girl. I was owned by a girl!

  "Mistress?" I asked.

  "Has slavery been hard for you, lovely Judy?" she asked.

  "Oh, yes, Mistress!" I said.

  "Would you not like to be free?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress!" I cried.

  Smiling, with a graceful gesture, the woman lifted back her veil, revealing her face.

  "Elicia!" I cried. "Elicia Nevins!" I cried, weeping with joy. I threw myself into her arms, sobbing. And she put her arms about me. I could not control my emotions. The ordeal was now over. I shook, half choking, half sobbing. Behind me now was the steel of slave bracelets, the fear of the whip, the misery and degradation of the slave girl. "I love you, Elicia!" I cried. "I love you!" I would now be free. Soon, with Elicia's help, I would be returned safely to Earth. She had rescued me! "I love you, Elicia!" I wept. "I love you! I love you, Elicia!"

  The woman thrust me from her, and I, startled, slipped back, losing my footing, to the tiles. I was on my knees.

  I looked at her, puzzled.

  "It is well," she said, "that a slave girl loves her mistress."

  "Please do not joke," I begged.

  "Are you not grateful to me?" she asked.

  "Yes! Yes!" I cried. "I am grateful, so grateful, to you, Elicia!"

  "It is well," she said, "that a slave girl is grateful to her mistress, that she is permitted to live and is not slain."

  "Elicia?" I asked.

  "Do not rise from your knees," she said, coldly.

  "When will I be freed, and returned to Earth?" I asked.

  "You always were a stupid little fool," she said. "I wondered what the boys ever saw in you."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "That is why you are a slave, and I am free," she said.

  "Surely," I whispered, "you do not intend to keep me as a slave. You are of Earth!"

  "This is not Earth," she said.

  "Oh, please, Elicia!" I said.

  "Silence," she said.

  I was silent.

  "We were great rivals, were we not?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "I shall enjoy owning you," she said, "as a serving slave."

  "Oh, no, Elicia!" I begged.

  "I saw you as a slave even on Earth," she said, coldly. "When I saw you in classes, in the cafeteria, in the library, walking on campus, attending functions, dating, laughing, applauding, lying beside the pool, posing for the boys, cute, pretty, trying to pretend to be more beautiful than I, I saw you as what you truly were and deserved to be, and would someday be—only a lovely little slave.

  "Free me," I begged.

  She laughed.

  "You asked if I wanted to be free," I moaned.

  "Do you?" she asked.

  "Yes, yes!" I cried.

  "That will make the owning of you all the more pleasant," she said. "But you should not be free. You are a natural slave," she said, "like many of the women of Earth."

  "You are of Earth!" I cried.

  "Yes," she said, "but I am not a natural slave. I am different from the others."

  I put down my head.

  "Are you familiar with the duties of a serving slave?" she asked.

  "Elicia!" I cried.

  "Are you?" she asked. "I do not wish to spend a great deal of time training you."

  "To some extent," I said, coldly.

  "It is all a little thing like you is good for," she said. "I will get much use from you."

  "Please, Elicia," I wept, my voice breaking.

  "Go into my room," she said, "through the door on your right. On the wall there is an opened slave collar and a slave whip. Bring them."

  I went into the beautiful room, lavishly appointed, with chests, mirrors and sunken bath. I found the collar and whip and, barefoot, returned.

  I handed her the collar and whip.

  "Kneel," she said.

  I stepped back, and knelt.

  "You were very pretty on the block," she said.

  "You saw," I moaned.

  "Everything," she said.

  I put down my head. She had seen me exhibited naked, and sold.

  "Why did you not buy me then?" I asked.

  "There were excellent reasons not to do so," she said. "It was enough to know your location, and where you could be obtained."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "To determine," she said, "that others did not follow you."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "The search for you," she said, "was long."

  "You have gone to much trouble," I said, "to secure a female serving slave."

  "Your name is Judy," she said, naming me.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "You understand, of course," she said, "that you bear the name now as a slave name."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said. It might be changed, or taken from me, at her whim.

  "You will address me," she said, "as Lady Elicia, my mistress, or, as you have done, simply as Mistress, that sort of thing."

  "Yes, Lady Elicia, my mistress," I said.

  "Excellent, Judy," she said, "you learn swiftly." She leaned back. "Oh, I shall relish owning you," she said. "I shall demean and humiliate you, and work you, and have whatever I wish from you."

  "Yes, Lady Elicia, my mistress," I whispered. My former rival now owned me.

  She rose easily from the curule chair and stood before me. She held the opened collar before me. It was slender bu
t sturdy, steel, enameled with white, decorated with tiny flowers in pink, a collar suitable for a woman's girl. There was printing in the enamel, tiny, exact.

  "See the printing?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," I said.

  "I know you are illiterate," she said, "so I shall read it to you. It says 'I am Judy. Return me to the Lady Elicia of Six Towers.'" Then she said, "Put down your head, Slave."

  I knelt, with my head down. The collar was locked on my throat.

  She stepped back. "Judy Thornton," she said, "—collared! Collared at my feet! Mine! Owned!" She turned in the lovely gown she wore, her arms raised, fists clenched, eyes closed. "The triumph! The pleasure of it!" she cried.

  "The collar," I whispered, "has my name on it."

  "Yes," she said, looking at me. "It has been waiting for you a long time."

  "It is a ten-hort collar," I whispered. I could tell by its feel.

  "Your size exactly," she laughed.

  I wondered when the measurement could have been taken. From what she had said I gathered the collar had not been made recently, that it had not been made following the sale in the house of Publius, in which my various measurements, those of a slave, had been made public.

  I looked at her.

  "You were measured when you were unconscious," she smiled, "before you left Earth."

  "How did I come here?" I asked.

  "Unconscious," she said, "naked, in a slave capsule."

  I shuddered.

  "Do you know," she asked, "who it was who picked you for slavery, who designated you for the collar, from among hundreds of other girls, screened, who might have been taken?"

  "No, Mistress," I said.

  "It was I," she said.

  "But why, Mistress?" I begged.

  "Because it pleased me," she said, "and I wanted you for my slave."

  I looked at her with horror.

  I felt the whip thrust against my mouth.

  "Press your lips to the whip," she said.

  I did so.

  "What is the duty of a slave girl?" she asked.

  "Absolute obedience," I whispered.

  "Kiss the whip," she said.

  I did so.

  She then went back to the curule chair and seated herself upon it, regarding me. She held the whip in her right hand, its blades folded in her left.

  "I am sure we will get on well, won't we, Judy?" she asked.