Dancer of Gor

by John Norman

  "Where is the little honey cake?" asked the fellow, looking about, squinting. He then fell forward, on his hands and knees, on the furs. He slipped to his stomach. His head lifted. His eyes were bleary with drink.

  "I am here, Master," I said, shrinking back against the wall.

  There were side panels on each side of the entrance to the alcove. Such panels, where they exist, are normally kept locked on the inside. These, however, were not locked. Such passages are rare in alcoves but they are not unknown. They make it possible to move between alcoves, and from alcoves to the rear of the tavern, without reentering the main floor area. Such exits have various utilities, such as making it unnecessary for a fellow on the way out to encounter another on the way in, and permitting a fellow to withdraw from the area unnoticed, perhaps thereby avoiding an enemy or enemies, and gaining time on them, perhaps two or three hours, while they wait for him to emerge. Too, as a general policy, many Goreans prefer rooms with at least two exits.

  "Where?" asked the fellow, thickly.

  "Here," I whispered.

  The panels were well greased. They would be moved back quietly, behind the fellow on the furs.

  The fellow moved himself to a sitting position, and sat there, half asleep, on the furs.

  "Here," I whispered, again.

  He blinked, sleepily, in my direction. He then went to all fours, to crawl toward me.

  I did not know if he could reach me.

  "Open your arms," he said, slowly.

  I could smell his breath, heavy with drink, and garlic, and herbs, across the furs. I opened my arms, obediently, to him. Slave girls are not permitted to be fastidious. We must take what comes. What matters is that these fellows have paid their fees to our masters. Accordingly we must serve them with enthusiasm, skill and passion. They have paid their money. We must thus see to it that we are marvels to them, that we serve them with eagerness and perfection. This is not a matter, incidentally, of serving regardless of our will and possible desires, or in spite of them, but of actually adjusting our will and desires, in such a way that they now find expression and fulfillment even in such service. To be sure, some men enjoy taking a woman who hates them, and whom they hate, and reducing her to a panting, pleading slave, begging for a continuation of their touch, which they may then either grant or deny her, as it pleases them.

  He crawled toward me, and then crouched, unsteadily, before me. I quickly took him in my arms, pressing myself gratefully against him. I hoped, even in this time, even in these circumstances, that I might gain from him a moment or two of relief. Perhaps my master's men would not soon enter the alcove. Perhaps, best, they would decide they did not want this man, after all. I hoped so. Then he seemed only a weight in my arms. He was too heavy to hold. I lowered him to the furs. He was asleep. The two panels slid noiselessly open.

  "Back, slut," said the first of my master's men.

  I crept back against the wall.

  I watched the other of my master's men drag the fellow from the alcove by an arm.

  "I see that your hands will have to be fastened behind you again tonight," said the first of my master's men.

  I put down my head.

  "Turn about, kneeling," he said.

  I did so. I expected him to put a belly chain on me, padlocked in front, with slave bracelets attached, in the back. I had worn it the last eleven nights. But he did not do so. Instead I felt binding fiber cinched about my waist, and then my hands, wrists crossed, were, to this same fiber, tied behind my back. I did not understand this. He opened the heavy collar, attached to the wall chain, which had been closed about my neck. He then drew me to my feet by an arm. "The master wants to see you," he said.

  "Master?" I asked.

  "Be silent," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  22

  Inquiries;

  Gagged, Hooded, and Collared

  "Spread your knees more widely, Tuka," said my master, Tyrrhenius of Argentum.

  I obeyed.

  He regarded me, not speaking.

  I knelt before him on a circular scarlet rug, he in a curule chair looking down at me. My hands were tied behind my back, to a length of binding fiber cinched snugly about my waist. His men were near him, the two who had been as my masters in my work.

  "You are an Earth slut, are you not?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said. "That is, I am a woman from Earth, who was brought here and enslaved."

  "A slut," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said. "I am a slut from Earth, who was brought here and enslaved." I supposed, in a sense, I had been a slut on Earth. Certainly I had been interested in men, and in sexual experience, even then, though I had been shy, and afraid of both. Here, of course, on Gor, there was no question about the matter. I had learned that here I was a slave slut, and an exciting and attractive one.

  "What is the history of your bondage?" he asked.

  I did not understand his interest in this matter. On the other hand, I supposed he had his reasons. He did not seem idly curious. Besides, he was a free man, and I, a female slave, had been asked a question.

  "I was captured on Earth," I said, "and brought to your beautiful world, where I was embonded. I do not know the place to which I was brought, where I was branded and collared. It was, it seems, across a sea."

  "Cos, probably," said one of my master's men.

  "Perhaps," he said.

  "I was sold outside Brundisium, in a sales camp," I said.

  "Brundisium," said one of my master's men. "It would doubtless, then, have been Cos."

  "Perhaps," said my master.

  "My first public sale took place in Market of Semris," I said, "at the sales barn of Teibar, of that town. I was purchased there by Hendow, a taverner of Brundisium. I was stolen from Brundisium, and sold in Samnium. There I was purchased by Gordon, an itinerant musician. It was from him, in Market of Semris, that I was purchased by you, my master."

  "What did you do in the tavern of Hendow," asked my master.

  "I worked in the kitchen," I said.

  "Surely one with your beauty served also in the alcoves," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Did you also dance?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  The men exchanged glances. I pulled at the binding fiber a little, confining my wrists. I was well tied. It had been done by a Gorean male. They do not make mistakes in such things. Even boys are taught to bind women. We are helpless.

  I looked at the men. I did not understand their interest in these things.

  "Would you care to be fed to sleen?" he asked.

  "No, Master!" I cried. Quickly I put my head down to the floor.

  "It is my understanding that six days ago, on the streets," he said, "you exhibited a momentary hesitancy in carrying out a capture."

  I flung myself to my belly, my hands tied behind me, before his chair. I was terrified. "Forgive me, Master!" I cried. "Forgive me!"

  "Did you know the individual?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master!" I cried. "I had known him. He had been kind to me!"

  "To whom does a girl owe absolute and perfect obedience?" he asked.

  "To her master! To her master!" I wept.

  "Kick her, and beat her," he said, dispassionately.

  I was then spurned and abused with the feet of his men, and I was then pulled up to my knees and cuffed several times before my master. Then they stepped back. I was then again on my knees, my lips now bleeding, before my master. I tasted blood.

  "You are contrite now, are you not, Tuka?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said, frightened. I knew I should not have hesitated. I was a slave.

  "But you have been on the whole an excellent lure girl," he said, "one of the best I have ever had."

  "Thank you, Master," I whispered.

  "You are extremely intelligent," he said, "as well as extremely beautiful."

  "Thank you, Master," I whispered. I felt that my intelligence
was small compared to that of most Gorean males, but I did not feel intellectually inferior, at least generally, to the women I had met on Gor, either girls from Earth, such as Gloria and Clarissa, who had been with me at Market of Semris, or those native to Gor, women such as Tula and Ina, and Sita and Aynur, whom I had known at the tavern of Hendow, on Dock Street, in Brundisium. I did not know if the high intelligence of Gorean men was a function of those men who had been brought to Gor in the distant past, perhaps chosen for intelligence, as well as other qualities, or if it had to do rather, for the most part, with the exhilarating, liberating Gorean cultural milieu, one alien to negativity, inhibition and frustration, one perhaps, in virtue of permitting an open, honest and freed manhood, more conducive to emotional and mental growth, in a natural sense, as that of plants and animals, as opposed to a political sense, as in producing conformity to whatever the currently prescribed role models might be, than that of a less natural society or culture.

  "Doubtless these qualities have contributed to your effectiveness as a lure girl," he said.

  "Perhaps, Master," I said, uneasily.

  "But even so," he said, "the effectiveness of a lure girl is usually limited."

  "Master?" I asked, apprehensively.

  "So, too," he said, "I think that your utility as such, even with your intelligence and beauty, at least in this area, may be coming to an end."

  I did not say anything. I was helpless.

  "Too," he said, "there is a question as to how much risk it is rational to take."

  I did not respond.

  "For what it is worth," he said, "you have served longer than any other lure girl I have used in this area."

  I nodded, swallowing hard.

  "You have made more captures than any other," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," I said.

  "You are now, however, I think," he said, "becoming a bit too well known in Argentum."

  "As master says," I said. I had no idea, of course, as to whether or not such a thing was true. I did suppose I had been seen about the streets, here and there. This may have raised suspicions.

  "Too," he said, "there have been inquiries."

  I looked at him, apprehensively.

  "Sometimes," he said, "I think a lure girl should be less beautiful, less striking, perhaps, than you. You are perhaps the sort who is too easily remembered."

  I said nothing.

  "Accordingly," he said, "I think it is now time to dispose of you."

  "Master?" I asked, frightened.

  "Do not fear," he said, smiling. "I have no intention of losing my investment in you."

  "Then Master will sell me?" I begged.

  "You have already been sold," he said.

  I looked at him, astonished.

  "I have received for you five silver tarsks, and one tarsk bit," he smiled. "I paid five silver tarsks for you, as you may recall. Thus I have made a profit on you."

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Hood her," he said.

  One of his men then put a gag in my mouth, attached to a slave hood, fastened it in place, and then pulled the hood up behind my head, and then down, over my head, and buckled it shut about my neck. I felt a collar put about my neck and locked. The collar I had originally worn then, that of Tyrrhenius of Argentum, was removed from my neck. I then knelt there, gagged and hooded, my hands bound behind me. I was trembling.

  "Take her to her new master," he said.

  23

  The Work Camp

  "Look!" cried a fellow, elatedly. "Look!"

  "The fifth slut!" cried another. "Look!"

  "It is she!" cried another. "Look!"

  "Do you know her?" asked another fellow.

  "Yes!" said the first man.

  "We know her well," said another fellow, with grim satisfaction.

  I half stumbled in the chains. My feet hurt on the hot gravel. The sun was hot on my bare arms and legs. I could take only short steps for my ankles were shackled, the run of chain between them only some eight to ten inches. Iron, too, adorned my wrists. I wore manacles. With expert blows, on an anvil, these had been hammered shut, leaving only a fine line where the edges met. The manacles were joined by some seven or eight inches of chain. Another chain, some three feet in length, ran from the center of the ankle chain to the center of the chain joining the wrist rings. Standing upright, then, I could not lift my hands, even to feed myself. I was also in neck coffle, the fifth girl in the coffle. A chain ran from a ring on the back of the collar of the girl before me to a ring on the front of my collar. Similarly, a chain ran from the ring on the back of my collar to the ring on the front of the collar of the girl who followed me. Thusly we were fastened together.

  "It is she," announced another fellow.

  "Move, kajirae," said a fellow with a whip.

  "Yes," said another man.

  I looked about myself, wildly, in terror.

  I heard the snap of the whip and, together, we hurried forward, within the fence, toward the square tent, the overseer's tent, on a rise in the distance.

  The fellows along our route, sweating, half-stripped, in their ankle chains, paused in their labors, resting on their implements, to watch us pass.

  "It is you, is it not," asked the girl before me, whispering over her shoulder, "to whom these beasts refer?"

  "I fear so," I moaned.

  "How is it that they know you?" asked the girl behind me.

  "From Argentum," I said.

  "Woe is us," said the girl before me. "These brutes are criminals, murderers, cutthroats, brigands, dangerous men, held in penal servitude. We shall be fortunate if we are not killed!"

  "The guards must protect us," said the third girl.

  "But how can we garner such shelter?" wept the second girl.

  "If you had been a slave longer, you would know the answer to that question," said the third girl.

  The second girl moaned. She was naive. Her brand had not been on her long.

  We were female work slaves. Such are used among the chains largely for carrying water. Other purposes, too, as might be expected, may be found for them.

  "I am afraid," said the second girl.

  "Look!" cried a man, as we passed. "She! It is she, I am sure of it!"

  "Yes!" said another. "You are right! I, too, am sure of it!"

  I shuddered. "Not all of these men are criminals," I said to the second girl.

  "How is that?" asked the girl behind me.

  "Some are honest fellows," I said, "caught, impressed into labor."

  "Such things are not done," said the girl before me.

  "You are mistaken," I told her.

  "How could it be done?" she asked.

  "There are many ways," said the girl behind me. "Sometimes lure girls are used." Then she said, "Perhaps Tuka knows about that."

  I was silent.

  "You are very pretty, Tuka," said the girl behind me.

  I was silent.

  "You are probably pretty enough to be a lure girl," she added.

  I was silent.

  "I would not wish to be a lure girl who came within their reach," she remarked. "I might be torn to pieces. It would doubtless be far worse, of course, if I were the actual girl who had been involved in their capture."

  I shuddered.

  "What is wrong, Tuka?" she asked.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "I suppose that these fellows out here, with the digging, the labor and the whip, have little to live for," she remarked, "except perhaps vengeance."

  I trembled in the chains.

  "Do not be frightened, Tuka," she said. "You have nothing to fear, for you were surely never a lure girl."

  Over the fence, in the distance, I could see the walls of a city. I had been told it was Venna. I had been told this by the girl who was now first on the chain. She had seen it once, long ago, when she had been a rich, spoiled, beautiful free woman, in her robes of concealment, from her palanquin. Then she had fallen to slavers. She was no longer
spoiled or rich. No longer did she wear ornate robes of concealment. She wore now only the same sleeveless, brief, clinging work tunic as we. To be sure, she was doubtless much more exciting and beautiful now than she had been when she was free. This sort of thing would not be merely a matter of the brand and collar, of course, significant though they might be, but of the entire radiant transformation of her womanhood as it blossomed in bondage, she now in her place in nature.

  "Master!" I called to the guard. "Master, may I speak?"

  "What do you want?" he asked, walking beside me now, coiling the whip.

  "Is that Venna?" I asked.

  "Yes," said he.

  I was confused.

  "I have been sold to a chain of Ionicus," I said.

  "Yes?" he said.

  When I had learned, days ago, outside Argentum, that I had been sold to a chain of Ionicus, I had almost collapsed in fear. "Which chain, Masters?" I had begged. "Which chain? Please, Masters, which chain?" But my importunities had earned me then only a cuffing. It had not been until they were loading me, and four of the other girls, each of us tied within a tall, narrow leather sack, our heads exposed, the sack locked shut beneath our chins, into the cargo net, to be slung beneath a draft tarn, that I found out any specific information pertinent to my fate. "Whither are we bound, Master?" I had asked of the fellow who would fly the lead tarn, the others in a roped coffle behind him. "To the loading docks of Aristodemus," he had said, "outside the defense perimeter of Venna." "Thank you, Master!" I had cried, elated. Venna is a small, lovely city, largely a resort city, north of Ar, on the Viktel Aria. It is known for its tharlarion races. It is also a common locale, it and its vicinity, for villas of the rich, usually from Ar. I had feared that we might be bound for Torcadino, a city currently under siege by Cosians, and their allies, where, employed in the siegeworks, digging investing trenches, raising earth walls, and such, labored the "black chain of Ionicus," that chain for which I had aided in the "enlistment" or "recruitment" of several of its members. Two days ago we had arrived at the "docks of Aristodemus." Tarn traffic, because of the conditions of war, and alarms of war, was currently extremely restricted in the vicinity of Venna, as, I took it, it also was in the vicinity of Ar. The point of this was apparently to render aerial reconnaissance more difficult and to subject the environing skies to at least partial control. An unauthorized flight into the area, particularly a day flight, would thus be easier to detect. Tarnsmen, too, frequently aflight, conducted patrols. Measures of this sort not only improve the probabilities of detecting raiders, or other invaders of airspace, spies, for example, but also, of course, facilitate the deployment of defensive forces. Raiders afoot, of course, move much more slowly, and may find themselves at the mercy of the skies. At the "docks of Aristodemus" we were put in work tunics. We were also put in the chains we now wore, with the exception of the coffle chain. We were then put in slave wagons, with other girls, who had apparently been awaiting our arrival, to be taken to the work camp. In these wagons our chained ankles were threaded about the central bar, which was then locked in place. In this way we are kept in the wagon until masters might be pleased to release us. Once within the wire of the work camp we were taken from the wagon, one by one, and put in coffle. We were now making our way through the camp to the tent of the overseer, near which, for his convenience, would be our pens.