"Gor, I fear," she said, "is such a world."
"It is," I told her, "Slave Girl."
"I'm frightened," she said.
"As well you might be, rightless slave," I told her.
"Rightless slave?" she asked.
"Of course," I told her, "you are a rightless Gorean slave girl, leashed and ready for having."
"Is that all I am?" she asked.
"Yes," I told her.
"To you?" she asked.
"Yes," I told her.
She shuddered.
"What is wrong?" I asked.
"I dare not speak," she whispered.
"Speak," I said.
"I am aroused," she said.
I continued to hold her right arm with my left hand, and placed my right hand on her body. She squirmed. "It is true," I told her.
She tried to pull back. "You do not handle me like a man of Earth," she whispered.
"I am not a man of Earth," I told her. "I am Gorean."
I then pressed her back to the stones.
"What are you doing?" she cried.
"I have been patient," I told her. "I have waited a long time for you."
She squirmed. Her strength was as nothing, compared to mine. I brushed the flattish bell and the coin box over her left shoulder, and to the side of her neck. I heard the bell, and the coin, my coin, in the small, narrow metal box on her neck chain.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I am now tired of waiting," I told her.
"Then, you will truly have me?" she asked.
"Of course," I told her.
"But with dignity, and respect!" she begged.
"I have waited too long for that," I told her.
She struggled, unavailingly.
"Be gentle, solicitous and tender!" she begged.
"No," I told her.
"No?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"Oh!" she cried.
"When I finish with you," I said, "you will not have any doubts, as you might with a man of Earth, as to whether or not you have been had."
"Oh!" she cried.
"You will know," I assured her.
"This cannot be you," she wept. "It cannot be you!"
"It is," I told her.
"What are you doing?" she cried.
"Treating you as the slave you are," I told her.
"But I am a woman of Earth!" she cried.
"No," I told her, "you are only a leashed slut, a rightless Gorean slave girl, who is soon to learn something of the meaning of her collar."
"Yes, Master!" she cried, suddenly, helplessly.
"Do you admit that you are a slave?" I asked.
"Do not ask me, a woman of Earth, to admit to a man of Earth that I am a slave!" she begged. "It would be too shameful!"
"You would admit it swiftly enough to the brutes of Gor, would you not?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she wept. "Yes, Master!"
"Admit it then to me," I said, "for now you are no longer a woman of Earth, nor am I now any longer a man of Earth.
"I am a slave, Master," she said. "I admit it." I recalled then the time that we had dined in the small restaurant on Earth, so long ago. Her hair had been bound back in a severe bun. She had worn an off-the-shoulder, svelte, white satin sheath dress. She had carried a small, silver-beaded purse. She was now in my arms, sweating, naked and leashed. "I am a slave, Master," she said. "I have always known it."
"Now you speak the truth," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do you now feel shamed, that you have made this confession?" I asked.
She looked up at me, startled. "No," she said.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"It is strange," she said. "I feel exalted, glorious. It is strange. It is as though I had come home to myself."
"The only true liberation," I said, "is to become what one truly is."
"Oh!" she cried.
"Does a slave object to being treated as a slave?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said. "I regret only that I never admitted my slavery on Earth."
"There would have been little point," I said. "There are few masters on Earth."
"There is no dearth of masters on Gor," she said.
"No," I smiled.
She shuddered in my arms. "I admit to you that I belong in a collar," she whispered.
"It is true," I said.
"I long to be taught its meaning," she said.
"You will be," I assured her.
"Teach me my collar," she begged. "Make me the slave I long to be."
"I shall," I said.
"Linda is now ready to serve her master," she said. "Master," she said, "what is wrong?"
I looked down at her, locked as a hot, leashed slave in my arms. "I shall have you under the name of 'Beverly'," I said.
"That was my name on Earth, long ago, when I was free," she said.
"I put it on you now, for my use of you, as a slave name," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You were once of Earth, were you not?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Are you now of Earth?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said.
"Of where are you now?" I asked.
"Gor, Master," she said.
"Once you were a free woman, were you not?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Are you now free?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said. "Please, Master!"
"What are you now?" I asked.
"I am now naught but a Gorean slave girl!" she wept. "Please, Master!"
"What is your name," I asked.
"Beverly," she said. "My name is 'Beverly'. That is the name which my master has seen fit to put upon me."
"It is a pretty name," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said. "Thank you, Master. Please, Master!"
"You appear to be sexually aroused, Beverly," I said.
"I am, my Master," she said. "Please, please!"
"Speak, Slave," I said.
"Beverly begs to serve her master," she said.
I then took her, and, in moments, in helpless spasms, sobbing, in joy, she cried out her slave's submission to me. "I am now naught but a Gorean slave gir1! I am now naught but a Gorean slave girl!" she cried. "And I am yours, my Master! I am yours! I am yours!"
***
The girl who had held the leash of the girl whom I had just enjoyed, having now returned, removed her hand from the docile, supine slave's body. She tasted, and smelled, her fingers. "I see that you have earned your tarsk bit," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl, happily.
The girl who was the Coin Girl's leash holder then bent to untie the leash from the slave ring.
"Please, Mistress," begged the girl whom I had just enjoyed, scrambling to her knees and putting her head to the feet of the other girl, "do not yet untie my leash!"
"It is well past the nineteenth Ahn," said the girl who was apparently the new girl's slave supervisor and trainer, "But the pleasures of the master are not to be interfered with," said the kneeling slave. "That I was told in the house!"
Then, on her knees, she turned and looked pleadingly at me. I took out another tarsk bit, and held it out. The girl came then near to me, and leaned forward, that I might, from my reclining position, be able to reach the coin box chained on her neck. I put in another tarsk bit. The kneeling girl then turned and looked, pleadingly, at the girl under whose orders she was.
"Very well," said the girl who was standing, looking down upon the kneeling slave. "I shall wait up the street." Then she looked at me. "When you are through with her," she said, "send her to me."
"Very well," I said.
Beverly knelt happily beside me, and I lay back, on my back, on the tunic, on the stones of the street. I felt her small hands, lovingly, timidly, touching me about the shoulders and chest. "I did not know you could be like this," she said. "I have never seen you
before like this."
"A woman looks differently at a man when she is a slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she smiled. "What must you think of me?" she asked, ruefully.
"I do not understand," I said.
"How I behaved, how I acted," she said.
"I do not understand," I said.
"How can you respect me?" she asked.
"I do not," I said.
"You do not respect me?" she asked.
"No," I said, "of course not, for you are a slave."
"Yes, Master," she smiled. She kissed me, softly, on the right shoulder. Then she knelt back, on her heels, beside me. Her knees were spread, in the position of the pleasure slave. "You think little of slaves, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Then you must think little of me?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Am I good?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I am glad," she said. "Master," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"What if I were not good?"
"Then I would not have put another coin in your coin box," I said.
"What if I were not good the first time, after you had put a coin in the coin box?" she asked.
"Then I would have beaten you," I said.
"Could you beat me?" she asked.
"Yes," I told her.
"Would you, truly, had you not been satisfied with me, have beaten me?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I am pleased that you found me pleasing," she said.
I smiled.
"Too," she said, "you would have been entitled to a refund, though I myself could not have given it to you, for the coin box is locked. You could have obtained it, however, later from my master."
"I know," I said.
"But then, too, I would be again beaten," she said, "doubtless whipped."
"Yes," I said. The satisfaction of Coin Girls, in its way, is guaranteed, or one can receive one's money back. It is not surprising, then, that the girls, under the conditions obtaining, strive to be pleasing.
"I put a second coin, did I not, in your coin box?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Address yourself to my pleasures," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said, and bent forward, over my body. I felt her sweet lips, and her small teeth and tongue, those of a slave, on my body. In a few moments I ordered her again to her back.
She lay beside me.
Then I pulled her by the neck chain closer to me. I thrust another coin into the small metal box on the chain. She kissed me. "Again, Master?" she asked. I took her by the arms and flung her beneath me. "Do you know the name of this street?" I asked.
"The Street of the Writhing Slave," she said.
"Writhe, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
It was an Ahn later.
She lay beside me, pressing her softness against me, kissing at my arm, my shoulder and chest, softly, piteously. "Very well," I said.
"Oh, yes, Master!" she breathed. "Yes, yes, Master!"
I then put her beneath me, and looked down into her eyes. "Yes, Master," she said. "Yes, yes, yes, Master!"
I was preparing to have her when suddenly I saw fear come into her eyes. "Oh, no, Master!" she cried. "No! No!"
"What is it?" I asked.
"The coin!" she cried, in misery, "the coin. You have not paid the coin!"
I smiled.
"I am a Coin Girl!" she cried, miserably. "I may not be had without the coin!"
"Oh," I said.
"Please," she begged. "Please pay the coin!"
"Do you beg it?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said. "Yes, Master!"
"Very well," I said. I put another tiny coin in the coin box.
"Thank you, Master," she breathed, lifting her lips to mine. "Now have me, have me, have me!"
"Very well," I said.
"It must be near dawn," I said.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, softly, frightened.
"We must think about having you returned to your master," I said.
"Oh, please, Master, not yet," she begged. "Let me stay beside you for but a little more time."
"Very well," I said, "for perhaps a moment more."
"I never want to leave your side," she said. She clutched me.
"Who owns you?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said, "doubtless some renter of Coin Girls. I was apportioned to him in the division of the spoils taken from the holding of Policrates."
"What does he look like?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said. "I have never even seen him."
"What manner of man is he?" I asked.
"He is harsh and cruel, uncompromising and merciless," she said. "He keeps me well as a slave."
"Do you fear him?" I asked.
"I fear him terribly," she said. "I am his girl."
"Perhaps he is not such a bad fellow," I said.
"He keeps me chained in a basement, in the darkness," she said. "He throws me scraps of food for which I, on my chain, must search, or starve."
"Perhaps he merely wishes you to learn that you are a slave," I said.
"He has taught it to me well," she said.
"He does not sound like such a bad fellow," I said. "If I owned you, I might treat you similarly, at least at first."
"Until I had learned well to whom I belong?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"And what if a girl is incapable of learning her lesson?" she asked.
"She may always, then," I said, "be fed to sleen."
"She will learn her lesson, and well," said the girl.
"Of course," I said.
"But he has never once summoned me to his couch, to abuse me, or caress me, or order me to serve his pleasures."
"I see," I said.
"If you owned me," she said, "you would have used me by now, would you not have?"
"Yes," I said, "if I owned you, doubtless, by now, I would have put you, and well, to my pleasure."
"Perhaps he does not find me attractive," she said. "Perhaps he has many women. Perhaps he does not even find me a curiosity to exploit."
"Perhaps," I said.
She then lay closely against me, her head at my hip, trembling.
"I am afraid to be a slave," she whispered.
"As well you might be," I said.
"I can be bought or sold, or given away," she said. "I may even be slain, on the least whim of a master."
"Yes," I said.
"Master," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"Masters do not respect their slaves, do they?" she asked.
"Of course not," I said.
"But might they not, sometimes, feel other emotions toward them?" she asked. Her voice was very soft, and frightened. I gathered that she feared she might be struck.
"Yes," I said.
"What emotions?" she asked, timidly, beggingly.
"Irritation," I said, "desire, lust."
"But is there no other emotion that a master might, sometimes, feel towards his slave?" she asked.
"What emotion did you have in mind?" I asked.
"Please, Master," she sobbed, "do not make me speak!"
Norman, John - Gor 16 - Guardsman Of Gor v2.txt Page 18