by John Norman
"Here is the signed attestation," said Mirus, handing it to one of the fellows near the floor. They began to pass it about.
"Only seven ostraka are left," called Mirus. "Who would like them? Only one, regretfully, I fear, may be now allowed to a customer."
I watched the attestation being handed about the tables.
Men crowded about Mirus.
I no longer had the sheet of white silk about me. It had been taken from me.
"Alas," then cried Mirus. "The ostraka are gone!"
There were cries of anger.
"Do not be dismayed, noble patrons of the tavern of Hendow," he called, "for the number of ostraka was determined in advance. If too many were sold, the chances of any particular one winning would be too few. Surely those of you who have already purchased one or more ostraka can appreciate the weight of this consideration."
Several men seemed to offer assent to this.
"And do not forget, noble patrons," he continued, "that although only one may be the first to open this lovely slave, she is now one of Hendow's women. Accordingly you may all return, time and time again, over the next weeks, and months, to sip her pleasures at your leisure."
"True," said a man.
"And I think I can guarantee," said Mirus, "by all the whips in the house of Hendow, that she will do her best to please you."
There was laughter.
I shuddered. Of course I would do my best to please them. I would have no choice. I was a slave. Too, these were not the men of Earth, so tolerant, so understanding, so considerate, so forgiving, so easily put off, so weak. These were Gorean men. If I was not perfect for them, and whenever, and however, they wished, they would make me pay, and well. On Gor there are many sayings about masters and slaves. One is in the form of a question and an answer. The question is, "What does a slave owe a master?" The answer is, "Everything, and then a thousand times more."
"Some of you have apparently found this slave of some interest," said Mirus, "for although she has not yet even danced, already are the ostraka gone."
"True," said a fellow.
Many girls, I had gathered, do not dance before their virginity, in such contests, is disposed of. Not all girls are skillful dancers, particularly at first, before they have had slave sexual experience. I was to be danced, however, I had gathered, not only because I could, at least to some extent, dance, but also as a form of advertising, Hendow taking this occasion to introduce me to his patrons. He had hopes for me, I had gathered, as a dancer. He hoped, I think, through me, to bring new and additional business to his tavern. I hoped he would not be disappointed in me, as I did not want to be punished.
"May I have the attestation paper?" asked Mirus. He retrieved it from a fellow over to the right. "Thank you," he said. He then waved the paper over his head. "Here is the signed attestation of the noble Tamirus," he said. "She is a virgin!" He then rolled the paper and pointed to me with it. I looked at him. "Behold her," he said, "kneeling there before you, a beautiful slave awaiting her first use master."
I put my head down, trembling. I knelt there, my knees wide, awaiting my first use master.
"Dispense more ostraka!" called a man.
"No!" cried others.
"Which of you hold the winning ostrakon?" inquired Mirus. "Is it you, sir? You? Or, you?"
"I hope it is me," called a fellow.
There was laughter.
"Doreen," said Mirus.
"Yes, Master," I said, looking up, startled. I had not expected him to speak to me.
"Who will win, Doreen?" he asked.
"I do not know, Master," I said, weakly.
"Speak up, Slave," said he.
"I do not know, Master," I cried, in misery.
"Nor will you," he said.
I looked at him, in consternation.
There was laughter. I did not understand this.
"Do you beg now to dance before your first use master?" asked Mirus.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"And before the guests of Hendow?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"And before all present?" he inquired.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Adorn her," said Mirus.
"Ina," called Tupita. "Sit," she said then to me, "with your hands on the floor beside you, leaning forward, your right leg advanced."
Ina came forward, from the back, through the beaded curtain, with a flat, shallow box. Tupita and Sita removed the leather cuffs from my wrists.
There are some three senses of the expression "virgin dance" on Gor. There is a sense in which it is a kind of dance, rather than a particular dance, which is deemed appropriate for virgins. In that sense I was not expected to perform a "virgin dance." One would seldom see such dances in taverns. The second sense is the obvious one in which it is a dance danced by a virgin, and usually just prior to the loss of her virginity. In that sense it could be almost any dance which serves the purpose of displaying the girl before her initial ravishing. The third sense of the term is that of a specific dance, or type of dance, most often, interestingly, not even danced by a virgin, but usually by an experienced slave. It is not exactly a story dance, but more of an emotional or attitudinal piece, more in the nature of a "role dance," a dance in which the slave dances as though she might be a virgin, but knows she is to be ravished, and that she is expected to be pleasing. The dance I was expected to perform was, I suppose, a "virgin dance" in both the second and third senses of the term. Mirus, paradoxically, speaking obviously in the third sense of the term, had told me that I would do better at this sort of dance when I was no longer a virgin.
I felt metal anklets being thrust on my ankles by Tupita and Sita. They put several on each ankle. They then, similarly, placed narrow bracelets on both my wrists, several on each wrist. A long belt of cord, to which were attached numerous metal disks, suspended and shimmering, was then looped twice about me, the first loop secured high, and tight, at my waist, and the second loop, a larger loop, a framing loop, was secured in such a way, in the back, that it would hang quite low on my belly, well below my navel. The purpose of this belt was to call attention to, and enhance, by sound and sight, the movements of the hips and abdomen. With the slave beads I already wore I felt unutterably displayed, and barbaric. I could not move now without the sounds of the beads, the anklets and bracelets, the shimmering belt with its two loops.
"Stand," said Tupita.
I did.
The men gasped with pleasure. I was frightened.
"Prepare to dance, slave," said Tupita.
"Good," said a man.
I stood before them with my hands lifted over my head, the backs of my hands facing one another, my knees flexed. It is a common beginning position in slave dance.
The musicians readied themselves.
I looked out on the men. These were not men of Earth, defeated and tamed by propaganda and lies. These were Gorean men, men like lions. I stood before them, weak and helpless, a woman from Earth, now a collared slave who must dance for their pleasure.
The czehar player, sitting cross-legged, now had his instrument across his lap. He was the leader of the musicians. He had his horn pick in hand.
I stood barefoot, naked, save for collar and adornments, on the dancing floor of a low-ceilinged Gorean tavern. I must prepare to please masters. I wondered what the men who had worked at the library would think if they could see me now, their so-much-taken-for-granted Doreen, her beauty now at the disposal of masters, men who could break them in pieces. I wondered if they would lament my plight, deploring it with typical, whining, hypocritical cant, or if they, too, would sit there, at those low tables, their blood racing, their eyes alight, becoming men.
Aynur and Tula were now behind me, kneeling at the back of the floor, with their bowls. Tula's was empty. Aynur's held the house's halves of the divided ostraka. One of them would prove to be the "lucky ostrakon." Ina, the flat, shallow box of adornments beside her, was back with them. So, too, with
the cuffs and leashes, were Tupita and Sita. Mirus, too, had now withdrawn to the back.
If I did not dance well I did not doubt but what I would be whipped.
I looked out on the men.
One of them would be my first use master. In a special sense my "virgin dance" must be dedicated to him. But, in general, I must dance, too, before the guests of Hendow's tavern, and, too, before all who were present. This included Mirus, who, I think, had often wanted me. Too, I could see others of Hendow's men about, come to see the dance, and now, too, to one side, the kitchen master. After tonight, at the tubs, I would doubtless be no safer from him than Ina.
Perhaps if I danced poorly? But I did not want to be whipped!
Then I knew I did not want to dance poorly. Out there there were men, real men, many of whom excited and stirred me, even in my virgin's belly. I could scarcely imagine what it might be to be helpless in their arms, and at their power, as a slave. I was desperately eager to please such men. I wanted to be marvelously exciting and beautiful before them. I wanted them to desire me. I wanted them to want me! Too, I knew many of the girls despised me as a woman of Earth. I wanted to show them, too, women such as Tupita and Sita, what a woman of Earth could do to their Gorean masters, how, she, too, could excite them, and twist them with torments of desire, and make them gasp and scream with pleasure! Too, in my anger at having been abandoned by Teibar, who had been my capture master on Earth, I wanted to dance well. He had let me go! But I had sold for two and a half silver tarsks, on my first sale! I had been purchased by Hendow, of Brundisium, who, I had gathered, was noted in this city for having an excellent eye for the selection of slave meat! Certainly the girls in his tavern, Inger, and Tupita, and Ina, and the others, were superb! Perhaps, I, too, then, was attractive! I saw the men, even now, looking at me! I could sense the heat and desire in them. They would not compromise with a woman like me. They would want her too much. They would throw her to their feet. They would dominate and master me, mercilessly! I was a female. In the arms of no other sort of man could I be fulfilled! Too, let Teibar cry out with anguish if he could find out how desired I would be, and what an excellent slut, what superb slave meat, I, his despised "modern woman," proved to be! I would become a high slave! I would cost a great deal of money! He would not even be able to afford me! Let him scream with the wanting of me, but it would be at the feet of others, in their collars, that I would kneel!
"Are you ready?" asked the leader of the musicians, the czehar player.
"Yes, Master!" I said, eagerly.
"Aii!" cried a fellow, pleased, as I began to dance.
The music was rich about me.
"I told you that was no virgin," said a man.
"Who cares?" asked another.
In the dance I had power. In the dance I was beautiful. I saw delight in the eyes of men. I heard gasps of admiration. To be sure I was of a body type, that of the natural woman, short-legged and well-curved, that tends to be attractive to Gorean men, and I think my face, which some had told me was delicate and sensitive, and lovely and intelligent, which so easily betrayed my emotions, may have been pleasing to them, but I think there was more to it than these things. Had it been merely a matter of face and figure I do not think the effect would have been the same. Many things were doubtless involved. One, of course, was that it was a slave who danced. The dancing of a slave is a thousand times more sensuous than that of a free woman because of the incredible meanings involved, the additional richness which this furnishes, the explosive significance of this comprehension, that she who dances is owned, and, theoretically, could be owned by you. Too, she is naked, or scantily clad, and is bedecked in a barbaric manner. This speaks of reality and savagery, of ferocity, and beauty and barbarism, and of the fundamental meaningfulness of the male/female relationship, that of power and ferocity to beauty, of dominator to dominated, of master to slave. The dancing of the female before the male, that she be found pleasing and he be pleased, is one of the most profound lessons in all of human biology. Others are when she kneels before him, when she kisses his feet, when she performs obeisance, when she know herself subject, truly, to his whip. Another is when she is seized in his arms, imperiously, and crushed to him. Too, I think in this dance I was also as successful as I was because of the sort of woman I was, one who possessed deep female needs, and profound passions. I was ready, even at that time, as I now realize, to have the relentless torches of men set to the tinder in my belly, that slave fires might be lit there, thence by service, submission and love, my condition as slave, and the commands and touches of men, to be fanned, whether I willed it or not, to my dismay and joy, into open conflagrations. But I think, too, more simply, that there are skills involved, and that I was an excellent dancer, even at that time.
I danced, as the slave I was.
"Here, slut, here!" called more than one man.
I teased them, dancing close to them, swaying, my belly alive for them, with the jangling metal pieces, the anklets clashing on my ankles, the bracelets sliding and ringing on my wrists, and then, as they attempted to seize me, drew back, backing away, or whirled, with a swirl of beads, away from them. I picked one man after another out of the audience, seeming to dance my beauty most meaningfully to him. Perhaps he would be my use master. I did not know.
Several began to keep the time with their hands, clapping them together.
"She is not a virgin," said a man.
"No," said another.
I came about then to the back of the dancing floor. Tupita, and the others were there. "You are good," said Tupita to me, grudgingly.
"I am superb," I said to her, angrily. Then I added, hastily, "Mistress!"
I looked to the back of the tavern, where, near the beaded curtain, stood Hendow, my master, his arms folded. I swayed before him. I wanted to convince him that he had not made a mistake in purchasing me. I saw in his eyes that I had much to learn. I moved a little to my left, dancing before Mirus, who crouched there at the back of the floor, the sack of tarsk bits heavy at his belt.
"Do not change anything," he said to me, "but I would have thought you would dance rather more like a virgin."
I whirled away from him, to my right. Yes, I thought to myself, what are you doing, Doreen? What has gotten into you? Why are you doing this? Why is your belly so alive? Why are you so excited? Why is your body so hot? Why is it moving like this? You are dancing more like a purchasable slut, a common girl from a market, a girl who has been well taught by men and the whip the meaning of her collar, one who has already learned to whimper behind the bars of her kennel and scratch at its walls, than a virgin, fearing, but curious about, her first taking.
"Look," said a man.
"Superb," said another.
I did not think Mirus would mind if I changed my performance in this fashion, particularly, as I would, later, return to the taunting, sensate splendors of the aroused woman, and then, at the end, to the helpless pleading of the begging female, she who knows herself, ultimately, at the mercy of masters.
Actresses need only be actresses. They need not be dancers. But she who is a dancer must be more than a dancer. She must be an actress, as well.
"Ah, yes," said a man.
Suddenly in my dance it seemed I was a virgin, reluctant and fearful, terrified in the reality in which she found herself, but knowing she must respond to the music, to those heady, sensuous rhythms, to the wild cries of the flute, to the beating of the drum. I then danced timidity, and reluctance and inhibition, but yet reflecting, as one would, in such a situation, the commands of the music. I examined in dismay the beads about my neck, the cords at my waist, my barbarically adorned ankles and wrists. I touched my thighs, and lifted my arms, looking at them, and put my hands upon my body, as though I could not believe that it was unclothed. I pretended to shrink down within myself, to desire to crouch down, and conceal and cover my nudity, but then I straightened up, fearfully, as though I had heard commands to desist in such absurdities, and then I
extended my hands to the sides, to various sides, as though pleading for mercy, to be released from the imperatives of the music, but then reacted, drawing back, as though I had seen the sight of whips or weapons. The kaska player, alert to this, reduced the volume of his drumming, and then, five times, smote hard upon the taut skin, almost like the cracking of a whip, to which I reacted, turning to one side and another, as though such a disciplinary device had been sounded menacingly, on all sides, in my vicinity, and then I continued to dance, helpless before the will of masters. Then, as the dance continued, I signified by expression and movement my curiosity and fascination with what I was being forced to do, and the responses of my body, reconciled now to its reality, helplessly obedient now to the music.
I am a basically shy person. But now I was dancing such things as shyness, and timidity, and fear, and curiosity, and fascination, as roles. Like many shy persons I can find myself in roles, and blossom forth in them.
I suddenly by expression and movement, an almost involuntary contortion of my belly, seemingly startling me, and frightening me, appeared to suddenly sense, or glimpse, my sexuality.
"Ah," said a man, appreciatively.
I approached him in the dance, and then others, my belly seeming to register, with its jangling accouterments, their presence. Each time I would draw back from them, but my belly, my hips, would seem to propel me again toward them, or toward yet another. I then felt my hips, and thighs, and breasts, and belly, as these seemed to come alive in the music. And then, throwing my head back, I danced unabashedly as an acknowledged, aroused slave, much as I had before, taunting them, teasing them, delighting in my power, but then, suddenly, as though I sensed my ultimate helplessness, my ultimate inability to achieve total fulfillment without the wholeness of sexuality, without the master and the yielding, which gave meaning to the incipient passions within me, I danced the aroused slave who is the property of the master and begs his touch.
"Good," said a fellow.
"The slut is excellent," said another.
Then I realized suddenly that I was actually aroused. The interior of my thighs were hot. My belly, hot and burning, seemed to beg to be touched. I do not know, really, whether I had done this to myself in the dance, which is possible, or if my arousal had merely come upon me in the course of the dance, but I was aroused. I was a helpless, aroused slave! This now was no role. It was what I was.