by John Norman
I looked at him, aghast. I was bashful, and shy. I was timid. I was from Earth. I did not want to say such words.
"She is a new slave," said Mirus. "Perhaps—"
"Be silent!" said Hendow.
Mirus stiffened, as though he had been slapped. I was startled. How could Hendow have spoken to a free person in this fashion? Never had I seen him as he was.
"With your leave," said Mirus, coldly.
"Stay," said Hendow.
"I did not know the slave was of interest to you," said Mirus.
"She is meaningless, as is any other slave," said Hendow.
"Of course," said Mirus.
Then Hendow looked at me, again. His eyes were fierce. I must answer. It was painful for me. On Earth I had even been reluctant even to describe the liberating sort of dance I loved so much by such an expression as 'belly dance'. I quailed before that gaze. It was the gaze of my master.
"My slave orgasm," I whispered.
"Speak up, slave," said Hendow.
"My slave orgasm," I said. I shuddered to hear such words coming from me.
"And you want more of them, don't you?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said, my eyes suddenly filling with tears. How helpless I was before such men.
"And desperately so?" he said.
"Yes, Master!" I wept.
"You perhaps understand now," he said, "that there is more to slavery than collars and chains."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You are more thoroughly embonded now than ever before," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. It was true. I wanted such incredible sensations. I would do anything for them. To be granted them I would strive to be a perfect slave. I suddenly put my head in my hands, weeping.
"Hendow," protested Mirus.
"Have you counted the coins?" asked Hendow.
"Not yet," said Mirus, angrily.
"Perhaps you should consider doing so, when you can find the time," said Hendow.
"Of course," said Mirus, angrily. "Do you want the slave sent out on the floor, or to your quarters?"
"It was my understanding that in the schedules she was not to go on the floor this evening."
"Yes," said Mirus. "I shall have her cleaned and sent to your quarters."
"No," said Hendow. "She is to be put in her kennel, belly chained and braceleted, hands behind her back."
"I will see to it," said Mirus.
"Tupita will see to it," said Hendow.
"Of course," said Mirus.
Hendow then turned about, and left. I put my head quickly to the tiles, as he left, and then raised it. I looked, then, at Mirus.
"I do not understand," said Mirus, looking after Hendow. "I do not understand."
"Master?" I asked.
"Hendow is my friend," said Mirus. "We would die for one another."
"Master," I said, lifting my hand to Mirus.
"No," he said, angrily. He stepped back. I gasped. His attitude was now so different than it had been. He looked at me. "But you are beautiful, are you not, Doreen?" he said.
"I do not know, Master," I whispered.
"It is true enough," he said, bitterly. "Perhaps you are even too beautiful."
I put my head down.
"But you are only a slave," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
He then turned away from me, and went through the curtain. "Tupita!" I heard him call. "Tupita!"
But it was not Tupita, at first, who came into the passageway. It was Sita, in her silk. She knelt down beside me. "What is wrong?" she whispered to me.
"I do not know," I said.
"Is there trouble with Mirus?" she asked.
"Hendow is angry, I think," I said.
"It has to do with you," she said.
"I think so," I said.
"You may have favor with Hendow," she whispered.
"I do not think so," I said.
"There are rumors about," whispered Sita. "Have you heard them, that there may be a new first girl?"
"I have heard something about it," I said. "I do not know if it is true."
"Speak well for Sita," she whispered.
"But you are the friend of Tupita," I said.
"Tupita has no friends," she said.
I looked at Sita, puzzled.
"Speak well for Sita, with the masters," she said. "If I am first girl, you will be second."
"It is thought that Tupita is losing her control of the girls," I said. There were twenty-seven of us.
"She is," said Sita. "I have seen to it. Who do you think has undermined her?"
"To how many of us have you offered the post of second girl?" I asked.
"Only to you," she said.
I smiled.
"It is true," she whispered. "With the others I needed only rely on Tupita's unpopularity, her arbitrariness, her favoritisms, and, naturally, the promise of an easier time under me."
"Why am I special?" I asked.
"Because of Hendow," she whispered.
"I do not understand," I said.
"He likes you," she whispered. "I am sure of it."
"No," I said. "I am only a meaningless slave to him."
"Men kill for slaves," said Sita.
I shuddered.
"Speak well for Sita," she whispered.
The beaded curtain parted and Tupita entered the passageway.
Sita sprang to her feet. "You are a stupid slave," she cried to me. "You must learn to better please men!"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"What is wrong with Mirus?" asked Tupita. "I have never seen him so angry."
"It has to do with Hendow," said Sita. "He is angry with Mirus."
"It has to do with this slave?" asked Tupita.
"Yes," said Sita. "I have made her confess. Look at her. You can see she has recently been used."
"Here?" said Tupita.
"Apparently," said Sita.
"Return to the floor," she said.
"Tupita!" protested Sita.
"There is a fellow at table fifteen. He is depressed. He is having problems with his companion at home. Belly to him. Console him."
"Yes, Mistress," said Sita, and went back to the floor.
"So there is trouble between Mirus and Hendow?" she asked.
"Perhaps, Mistress," I said. "I do not know."
"And it is over you?"
"Perhaps, Mistress," I said. "I do not know."
"I wonder how that could be," she said. Then she walked about me, looking at me. "Yes," she said, "I suppose it is possible." She stopped in front of me. "Do you know what is to be done with you?"
"I am to be kenneled, belly chained and back-braceleted," I said.
"So you were used here?" she said, looking about.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"That is my impetuous Mirus," she said.
I was silent.
"Did you yield well to him?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered.
"He teaches us our slavery well, does he not?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered. "Please do not whip me, Mistress."
"Why would I do that?" she asked, lightly.
"I thought you might be angry," I said, "about Mirus."
"We are all free to the men of the house," she said. "And you are pretty."
"You are not angry with me?" I asked.
"Of course not," she said. "What were you to do? You are only a slave."
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
"Follow me to the kennels," she said. "I will chain and bracelet you there. Too, I will not make the belly chain any tighter than is necessary."
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
"And I will bring you a pastry later from the kitchen," she said, "and put it on the floor of your kennel. Though you will not be able to use your hands I expect that you will enjoy it, just the same."
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
"Speak well of me to Hendow," she said.
/> "Yes, Mistress," I said.
"If I am kept on as first girl," she said, "I will make you third girl, second only to myself and Sita."
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
I then rose to my feet and followed her down the passageway, to the stairs leading to the basement, where most of the kennels were. She was as good as her word, and did not make the belly chain tighter than necessary, and, too, she brought me a pastry later from the kitchen.
"Speak well of me to Hendow," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
I then, lying on my side, and turning my head, ate the pastry. Afterwards, as I could, with my teeth, I pulled the blanket up about me. I then lay there in the darkness, in the kennel. I pulled a little at the slave bracelets. They were not too tight, but they were on me snugly and well. They would hold me, perfectly. I remembered what a man had done to me, and how much of a slave he had made me. Hendow had told me later that I was never so thoroughly embonded as now. I remembered the sensations. It was true. I did not know whether to weep with the power of men over me, or cry out with joy. I did know I was a slave, and, in spite of its vulnerabilities and terrors, loved it. I would try to serve well.
I was frightened by the intrigues of the slaves, Tupita and Sita, and the other girls. I did not really want to be involved in them.
I lay there then and loved the men of Gor. I had not really, in spite of strong feelings and intuitions on Earth, begun to understand my sex until I was embonded, until I found myself in my place in nature, subservient to men. I now loved my sex. I now loved being a woman. It was marvelous, and wonderful!
14
Punishment
I knelt on the rug at the foot of the dais, that surmounted by the curule chair of my master, Hendow, of Brundisium. My head was to the rug, the palms of my hands on the floor. I had been summoned into his presence.
I trembled, kneeling before him, my head down.
I was afraid in this room. I had been here before. It was the receiving chamber of my master, Hendow. Too, to one side was the panel which, opened, admitted the gray hunting sleen, Borko. Somewhere in the dark, simple, terrible brain of that beast my name and scent had been imprinted. It could now be commanded with respect to me, even in my absence.
I trembled.
I did not know why I had been summoned into the presence of my master.
"Lift your head," said Hendow, of Brundisium, "stand."
I obeyed.
"Approach me," he said, "and kneel here, before the chair."
I climbed the broad, carpeted steps of the dais, and knelt before him. He leaned forward. "Turn your head to the left," he said. "Now, turn it to the right."
"Good," he said.
My ears had been pierced. It had been done yesterday morning. The metal worker had put tiny, disk-capped training pins in them, to keep the wounds from closing.
I was relieved. It seemed my master had only wished to inspect the results of the metal-worker's work. Too, I was pleased to note that he seemed pleased with the work.
"You may now return to the foot of the dais, and stand," he said.
I backed down, my head down, to the foot of the dais, and then stood there, erect and graceful before my master, as would be expected of a female slave.
I expected to be dismissed.
But I was not dismissed.
I became afraid, again. "May I kneel, Master?" I asked.
I would feel more comfortable kneeling in the presence of Hendow, such a man. Too, as I was frightened, it would be easier, in a kneeling position, not to falter, or fall.
"No," he said.
I remained standing. I trembled. Standing as I was, and at the foot of the dais, I feared he would have little difficulty in reading my body. My slightest tremor, or the slightest weakness in my legs would be visible to him.
"The metal worker did his work well," he said. "Your ears are excellently pierced."
"Yes, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master." I was pleased, too, of course, that the work had been well done. Indeed, I was eager to adorn myself with appropriate devices, that I might be rendered even more attractive to men. Too, I had some understanding of the meaning of such devices to Gorean males, and the effects upon them of such things.
"Remove your garment," he said.
I reached to the disrobing loop at the left shoulder of the brief silken tunic I wore. It was opaque silk, for it was morning, and not the diaphanous silk we customarily wore in the evening, when on the floor, when serving our master's customers. Silk such as this we might even wear outside the tavern. To be sure, it was silk such as would be worn only by a pleasure slave. We are dressed according to the preferences of men. I had never, incidentally, been allowed outside the tavern grounds. I did have the liberty, at certain times, of walking in, and exercising in, a small, enclosed back court of the tavern.
Then I was naked before him, the garment at my feet.
He regarded me.
I was now more sure than ever that he wanted to read my body. I trembled. Sometimes it seemed to me that he could look upon me, and know my most secret thoughts. I caught myself, my knees weak. I regained my balance.
"Are you afraid?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Why?" he asked.
"I am in the presence of my master," I said.
He continued to look upon me.
I then breathed more confidently. It seemed to me then that perhaps he only wished, really, to look upon my beauty, if beauty it were. Such things are not unusual with Gorean masters. It is not uncommon with them to have their girls strip, and turn before them, and assume attitudes and poses, and move in certain ways, and such. Gorean men, like lusty males generally, have an incredible appreciation of female beauty. Too, in the case of the slave, they own the girl. Thus they may command her, and have her perform, and precisely, as it pleases them, and she must, of course, obey with perfection. She is their slave. I suppose this is in part, at least, the result of an understandable desire to appreciate and take pleasure in one's possessions, or what one might regard as one's precious objects, or treasures. For example, we would not think it strange if a fellow of Earth, once in a while, drew forth his coin or stamp collection and spent some time lovingly pouring over it, scrutinizing and inspecting its items, and such. He is very fond of them. Similarly, if it seems understandable that, say, a high magistrate, a general, a ubar, or such, might enjoy sitting in his pleasure gardens and inspecting his women, having them before him naked, or clothed according to his preferences, it is just as understandable that a less rich or well-fixed person might, similarly, on a more modest level, enjoy the sight of his girl, or girls. Indeed, the fewer he has, perhaps the more he will relish the one, or ones, he has. If one is a male, and has, occasionally, perhaps on the street, or, say, on a bus or in a subway, seen a woman whom one found attractive, perhaps one has considered, with pleasure, what might be within the power of a master, an owner of the female in question, what it might be to be able to say, simply, perhaps giving her a name that pleases you, "Remove your garments, and perform." Those to whom such considerations are not incomprehensible will presumably understand something of what I am attempting to convey. Those to whom such considerations are incomprehensible, because they have low-level sexual drives, or their sexuality has been suppressed by, or inhibited by, a particular conditioning program, one they have doubtless been conditioned to approve of, will, I suppose, except perhaps on a theoretical, or verbal, level not be able to make much sense of it. When one has ordered the girl stripped, and perhaps required performances of her, and such, it is then not unusual that one would make use of her. On the other hand, it is not always done. Sometimes the master, having relished her beauty, merely has her reclothe herself and return to her labors. To be sure, he may recollect her later in the day, or evening. This sort of thing, needless to say, can be arousing, and frustrating, to the female slave. It is hard to remove your clothing before a man, and perhaps be forced to perform
before him, naked, and not be sensible of the keenly disturbing stirrings of one's own needs.
"It is interesting," he said.
"Master?" I asked.
"You are quite beautiful," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"But surely there are many women as beautiful," he said.
"Master?" I asked, puzzled.
"What, then, is different about you?" he asked.
"I do not understand, Master," I said.
"Are you an Earth woman?" he asked.
"In a sense, Master," I said, "the sense in which I am a woman from Earth. In another sense I am not an Earth woman. I am now only a Gorean slave girl."
"What have you learned on Gor?" he asked.
"I have learned to call men 'Master,'" I said.
"Is that well put?" he asked.
"Master?" I asked.
"Why do you call men 'Master'?" he asked.
"I understand, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master. I spoke imprecisely. I should have expressed myself more clearly."
He regarded me.
"I have learned on Gor that men are my masters," I said. It was true.
"It is then suitable that you call them 'Master,'" he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"I have had your ears pierced," he said.
"As it pleased you, Master," I said.
"You are now only a pierced-ear girl," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.
"Do you know what that means?" he asked.
"I am not sure," I said.
"Never hope, now, to be out of a collar," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I had gathered that he had, for some reason, or reasons, perhaps to make me more exciting to his customers, and men, in general, had my ears pierced. Too, in some way, I gathered, this had confirmed my slavery upon me, and made it a much more profound thing. But I did not care. I was a slave!
"Do you know why I had your ears pierced?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said.
"There are various reasons for doing such a thing to a female slave," he said.
"Master?" I asked.
"It improves her as a slave," he said. "It makes her more stimulatory, and more seductive. Too, it makes her more arousable, more excitable."
"Yes, Master," I said, blushing from head to toe.
"In this, too, there is an economic consideration. Such things improve her price."