Beasts of Gor

by John Norman

  "Master," whispered Arlene.

  I began to kiss her about the face and throat and shoulders.

  She clutched me. It was good to own her. She was beautiful, and intelligent, and hot, and mine. I suppose those who have not owned a woman cannot understand what a pleasure it is.

  "Oh, Master, Master!" she whispered.

  "Be quiet, Slave," I whispered to her.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  15

  Audrey

  There is something nice about having a girl lying naked in your arms, who wears bondage strings on her throat.

  "I have waited long for your touch, Master," whispered Thistle, who had once been the rich Audrey Brewster. I caressed the side of her face. She looked up at me. She was worth having.

  I had won her use in the bone gambling, her use as complete slave, until I chose to leave the tent.

  The hunt had gone well. Imnak and I had brought down four tabuk. Poalu, whom Imnak, with my consent, had made first girl, and the other girls, had followed us. Poalu had showed them how to cut the meat and lay it out on stones to dry.

  All now slept in the tent, save Thistle and myself. "You were once Audrey Brewster," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "For purposes of my use of you," I said, "for I have full rights over you, I shall name you, for the tenure of my ownership of you, Audrey."

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  "But you wear the name now," I said, "not as a free name, but as a slave name I choose to put on you."

  "Oh," she said.

  "Do you object?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said. "I am Audrey, your slave." She clutched me. "Why have you made me wait so long?" she asked.

  "It pleased me," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I had wanted her to be well ready.

  Two sleeps ago I had had to whip Arlene and Audrey apart. "Stay away from him!" had cried Arlene.

  "I do not know what you are talking about," had protested Audrey.

  "Do you think I cannot see you putting yourself before him, smiling, brushing his arm!" cried Arlene.

  "Liar!" had cried Audrey.

  "Do you deny it?" exclaimed Arlene.

  "Of course!" cried Audrey.

  Arlene had leapt upon her and, in an instant, both girls, scratching and tearing, biting, rolled on the tundra.

  "He is my master, Slave!" screamed Arlene. She knelt over Audrey.

  "If Imnak gives my use to him I must serve him!" cried Audrey.

  "He has not given your use to him!" said Arlene. "Stay away from him!"

  "Do not strike me!" cried Audrey.

  "He is my master, not yours," said Arlene, her small fist raised. "Stay away from him!"

  "I am a slave girl," said Audrey. "I must be pleasing to all free men!"

  Arlene struck down at her and, suddenly, they again were locked together, tearing and scratching at one another on the trodden turf.

  "Do not hurt me!" suddenly cried Arlene, she now on the bottom, Audrey kneeling over her.

  "I am a slave. I will be pleasing to any free man I want," said Audrey.

  "Slave!" screamed Arlene up at her.

  "Slave!" screamed Audrey at Arlene.

  Arlene squirmed free and again, together, they fought. I thought them extremely well matched slave beauties. Arlene might have been a little stronger. Either of them could have been severely bested by blond Thimble.

  At last I, with a switch, fell upon them. "Oh," they cried. "Oh!" They recoiled from the blows, their hands before their faces, and then lay on their bellies, their hands covering their heads. I cast down the switch, angrily, and then, a hand in the hair of each, dragged them back up to a half-standing position and then twisted them about and conducted them, they bent over, the head of Arlene at my left hip and that of Thistle at my right hip, to a place beneath the horizontal pole near Imnak's tent, where I put them to their knees. They were not pleased to be in that place. They knew what might happen to a girl there. They looked up at me, apprehensively. "Strip and stand," I told them, "hands over head, wrists crossed." They did so, and I fastened them in position, side by side.

  "Now you are going to have us whipped," said Audrey to Arlene.

  "Be quiet, Slave Girl," snapped Arlene.

  Audrey began to cry.

  "Thimble," I said.

  "Yes, Master," said Thimble, who had once been Barbara Benson.

  "Fetch the switch," I said. I pointed to the discarded implement, lying a few feet away on the cool turf.

  Thimble hurried to retrieve the switch, and hand it to me.

  I slapped it twice into the palm of my hand.

  The girls blanched, and winced, and squirmed in their bonds.

  "We have here two errant slaves," I said.

  "Yes, Master," said Thimble.

  "Do you not think their behavior should be corrected?"

  "Yes, Master," said Thimble.

  "Then we should correct their behavior," I said.

  "Certainly, Master," said Thimble.

  I then handed the switch to Thimble.

  "I, Master?" she asked.

  "Discipline them," I said to her. "Twenty strokes, and goodly strokes, such as are not easily forgotten, to each."

  "Yes, Master," had said Thimble.

  The girls would now be disciplined, as was appropriate.

  I had then walked away. Arlene received the first stroke, Audrey the last.

  I now looked into the eyes of Audrey, naked in my arms. "I have waited long for your touch, Master," she whispered. "I wait lovingly and eagerly to serve you."

  "It is well," I said.

  She kissed me delicately on the arm. Arlene could not now attack her. She must serve me, and serve me to the best of her abilities, superbly and obediently. Her use was now mine.

  "You have won in the bone gambling before," she had said. "Why did you wait so long to select me to serve you? Am I not pleasing to a master?"

  "You are acceptable, Slave Girl," I said.

  "I will try to be pleasing," she said.

  Before, when I had won in the bone gambling, the dropping of the tiny figures of bone and ivory, I had, of intent, selected blond Thimble, whom I would, in the tenure of her service to me, name 'Barbara', putting that name on her, though then of course as a slave name.

  "I wanted to let the little pudding named Audrey simmer," I told her.

  "You were cruel," she said.

  Imnak, since he had acquired Poalu, had scarcely glanced at his two white-skinned slave beasts. It was not that he meant to be cruel. It was rather that he was simply otherwise occupied. And even had he thought of it, their deprivation would not have been of concern to him, for they were only animals.

  Both girls would kneel to one side, stripped, awaiting the outcome of the bone gambling. Sometimes I won, and sometimes Imnak won. When Imnak won he might have the use of Arlene, if he chose, or a tabuk steak. Not unoften, to my amusement and Arlene's outrage, Imnak would select the steak. As I explained to her this was not because there was anything intrinsically lacking in her but because Imnak had eyes only, or generally, for Poalu. He was usually anxious to get his little red slave into the furs. His little slave was forced to compensate him well, indeed, a thousandfold and more, for the frustrating years of her freedom and arrogance. Interestingly, too, she did not seem to mind.

  Both Barbara and Audrey had knelt to the side, awaiting the outcome of the sport.

  Since the coming of Poalu to the tent life had become hard for them. It was not that Poalu, though she was first girl, and firm, was cruel to them, but rather simply that Imnak now had little time for them and paid them scant attention.

  Unfortunately, before the coming of Poalu to the tent, both girls had been brought to the second stage of slavery. The first stage is knowing they must obey, the second stage is needing the touch of a man.

  Imnak now seldom touched them.

  Their needs, accordingly, were
much on them.

  Freedom permits a woman to live without men. Slavery makes a woman need a man's touch. The sexuality of a free woman is largely inert; the sexuality of a slave girl, on the other hand, has been deliberately and seriously activated. Men, as it has pleased them, have done this to her. They have, as masters, careless of the consequences of their actions, awakened the poor girl's sexuality; it can never then, regardless of the torment and misery it may inflict upon her, return to sleep. It has been made hot and alive. She is no longer free; her freedom is gone; she is now only an ignited slave. Sexuality is a glory in a slave girl which sets her apart from free women, but it is also a force within her which she must fear, for it puts her so helplessly at the mercy of masters. The aroused sexuality of the slave girl is surely the strongest of the chains with which she is bound. Some slave girls, lovely fugitives, have been recaptured simply because they have thrown themselves whimpering at the feet of a man on a road, begging his touch. One of the most humiliating things that can occur to a slave girl is to find herself on her belly, unbidden, moaning, crawling to the feet of a hated master. She puts her lips to his feet. "I beg your touch, Master," she says.

  The sexuality of the aroused slave girl is incomprehensible to the free woman. It is nothing she will ever understand. It is a color she cannot see, a sound she cannot hear.

  I glanced at the two girls, kneeling to the side. Their sexuality, in the weeks of their slavery, had well begun to be aroused. Sparks had been kindled within them. Already they needed the touch of men.

  They did not yet, of course, as slaves still relatively fresh to bondage, suspect the torments and wonders that might lie before them. They did not yet understand how a woman screaming in a cell might break her body against the bars trying to touch a guard.

  "You have won," had said Imnak, cheerfully.

  "Yes," I said.

  I had glanced at the two beauties. Both had straightened themselves before me. Both now seemed far from the simple Earth girls they had been. I let my eyes move casually from one to the other.

  "Please pick me, Master," said Audrey.

  "I am more beautiful, Master," had said Barbara.

  "Please, Master," begged Audrey.

  I glanced at Barbara. Before, when I had won, I had always chosen her. She lifted her body before me. She was a quite lovely slave. How far from Earth she seemed.

  No longer was she a blond tease, dressing to excite boys, yet fearing her sexuality.

  She was now a slave girl.

  I looked at Barbara. Then I pointed to Audrey. "This one," I said.

  "Master!" breathed Audrey.

  Barbara looked away, angrily.

  Imnak got up and seized Poalu by the arm. He threw her to his furs.

  I went to my furs and threw off my garments, and lay down on my furs, reclining, on one elbow.

  Audrey remained kneeling, where she had been, though she watched me.

  I indicated a place beside me on my furs. She crawled to the furs, head down, and lay timidly beside me.

  "On your back," I had told her.

  She lay on her back, and I put my left arm under her, that I might lift, turn or control her as I wished, leaving my right hand free to caress her body.

  I looked at the line of her body.

  "You are a pretty slave," I told her.

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  * * * *

  There is something nice about having a girl lying naked in your arms, who wears bondage strings on her throat.

  "I have waited long for your touch, Master," whispered Thistle, who had once been the rich Audrey Brewster. I caressed the side of her face. She looked up at me. She was worth having.

  "I am pleased that you won my use in the gambling," she said.

  "Are you any good?" I asked.

  "Master will use me and tell me," she said. "I will try to be good."

  I had looked down at her.

  "Will master use me only briefly?" she asked. Imnak was seldom patient with his white-skinned slave beasts. Not only were they slaves, but they were white.

  "You are pretty," I said. "It is my intention, in these hours of my ownership of you, to use you several times."

  "Several times?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said. I smiled at her. "We shall sleep from time to time," I said.

  "But what if we are not awake at the same time?" she asked.

  "What a naive slave you are," I said.

  "Oh," she said, a bit archly.

  "Yes," I said, "you will awaken as you are entered or seized, or slapped awake."

  "Oh," she said.

  "It is very simple," I assured her.

  "You may, of course, do with me whatever you wish, and when you wish," she said, a little resentfully.

  "I shall," I said.

  "I am certain of that," she said.

  "Do you object?" I asked.

  "I may not object," she said. She smiled. "I am a slave," she said.

  "Are you a pert, intemperate slave?" I asked.

  "No," she said.

  "Will it be necessary to whip you?" I asked.

  "No," she said, quickly.

  "You will try to be a good slave?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Please me," I said.

  "Master!" she said.

  "Please me," I said.

  "But I am the female," she said.

  I looked at her.

  "I will try to please you," she said quickly. She began, clumsily, to kiss and caress me. I laughed at the ineptness of her efforts.

  "Why do you laugh?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

  "I was thinking," I said, "that if I had bought you in the Sardar and thrown you to my men you would have been slain by now."

  "Teach me to survive as a slave girl," she begged.

  "I will show you some simple things," I said. "But girls usually learn from other girls, or from their slave trainers in the pens."

  "Pens?" gasped Audrey.

  "Of course," I said. "Sometimes," I admitted, "trainers are brought to the compartments, with their whips, but that is more expensive."

  She turned white.

  "You are a slave, and you are going to continue to be a slave," I told her, "so you had better learn how to be a good one."

  She looked at me.

  "Do you want to live?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said.

  "Then learn," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Here," I said, "hold your lips to my thigh. Put your lips thusly."

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  * * * *

  "It is strange," she said, looking up at me. "I longed for your touch, but now it is I who must touch you."

  "Do not fear, little slave beauty," I said, "you, too, will be touched in your turn."

  Her eyes were moist. She pressed her lips to my belly. "Thank you, Master," she whispered.

  * * * *

  "What is slavery like in the south?" asked Audrey.

  "It is the same as here," I said. "You would be in the absolute power of a man."

  "I know that, Master," she said. "But how would I be dressed? What would I have to do?"

  "You would be dressed, if at all, as your master pleased," I said, "and you would have to do whatever you were told."

  "Oh, I know that, Master," she said, laughing, kissing me. Then she lay with her head on my shoulder.

  "Would I be branded?" she asked.

  "Doubtless," I said. "It is easier to keep track of a slave that way."

  "Does that hurt much?" she asked.

  "At the time," I said, "not later."

  "Where are we branded?" she asked.

  "A girl is commonly branded on the left or right thigh," I said, "sometimes on the lower left abdomen."

  "I am afraid to be branded," she said.

  "It does not hurt afterwards," I said. "It is only a mark to help keep track of you."

  "Really, Master?" she asked.

&n
bsp; "Well," I said, "if the truth must be told, it does, considerably, enhance your beauty. Also it is sometimes not without its psychological effect."

  "I can well imagine its psychological effect," she said. She shuddered.

  "It can help to impress upon a girl that she is a slave," I admitted.

  I touched her on the thigh.

  "There?" she asked.

  "Quite possibly," I said.

  Suddenly she clutched me. "Oh, oh," she cried. "It is the thought of being branded," she whispered, intensely. "Please, Master, hold me, hold me!"

  Her thighs were clenched fiercely. "I am going into orgasm," she cried out, frightened. I held her, as she gasped and wept in my arms. I had not even entered her, or touched her intimately. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. Angrily I thrust apart her legs. "Forgive me, Master," she wept. "It was the thought of being branded."

  "So, Slave," I said, "you want the iron?"

  "Yes, Master," she wept.

  "If I should have you in the south," I said, "I would have you soon marked."

  "Yes, Master," she wept. "Yes, Master!"

  "Serve me now, Slave," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she cried. "Yes, Master!" she cried.

  * * * *

  "Serve me again," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "Audrey will now serve her master again."

  "Does Audrey like serving her master?" I asked.

  "Audrey loves serving her master," she whispered.

  "Why is that?" I asked.

  "Audrey is a slave," she whispered.

  "It is true," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said. Then she began to cry out with helpless pleasure.

  * * * *

  "In the south," I said, "there are many cities. Many of these cities consist largely of high cylinders, joined by traceries of high bridges."