For more than two hours, I think, I knelt in position. He awakened.
He looked at me, but he did not release me from position. I remained as I was, in that position so symbolic of female subjugation.
It was now in the early evening.
He gathered up the pouch and bota, and slung them at his belt. He slung his sword, in its scabbard, over his shoulder. He donned his helmet. He lifted his shield and spear.
I looked at him. Was I not to bear his burdens? Was I not to carry the pouch and bota? Was I not to bear his shield?
With a snap of his fingers and a movement of his hand he released me from position. Gratefully I moved my body. I stretched. I saw him watching me stretch, catlike. Reddening, I stopped. At a sharp word from him I continued to stretch, luxuriously, brazenly, and fully relished doing so. He watched me as I moved my body, and rubbed my legs, that their full circulation might be restored; they were stiff and cramped, as was the rest of my body, after the fixed position in which I had been kept, as that discipline sequent upon my cuffing. I was aware, though would scarcely admit it to myself, that my movements, as I stretched, and moved my hands upon my legs, were performed rather differently than they would have been had I been alone. I realized, though scarce would admit it to myself, that I was displaying myself as a female before him. He laughed. I blushed, and lay back, angry, on the grass. The body, kept overlong in any position, of course, even the most natural, becomes stiff and cramped. A girl, incidentally, in the position of the Gorean pleasure slave, but who is not being kept in the position as a discipline, in which case she remains rigid, is allowed much subtle latitude, which she exploits, without breaking the position. Sometimes, as she becomes animated, she rises a bit from her heels, sometimes her hands move on her thighs, her shoulders and belly move, her head moves, her eyes are live and vital, she speaks and laughs, and, radiantly, every inch, every bit, of her alive, converses lyrically and delightedly. Any girl knows that an interesting body is a moving body. Even within the apparent restraint of the position of the pleasure slave a girl's body can be a subtle, provocative melody of motion. The interplay between the restraint of the position and her animation gives the position incredible power and beauty. Yes, power. More than one master, I suspect, has been enslaved by the beauty who kneels before him. It is one of the excruciating delights of the mastery to expose oneself fully to, and yet skirt, the dangers of the girl's beauty, to keep oneself strong, to draw the absolute fullness of pleasure from her, and yet to resist her wiles, to get everything from her, and yet to keep her on her knees, completely.
I lay back on the grass.
Some girls fight one another with whips to obtain such a master.
I looked up at the sky. It was darker now, through the trees. The man in whose company I was, and in whose power I was, had left the thicket. I did not fear that he would not return. He had not been angry with me. Too, I had seen him look at me, and had heard him laugh.
On Earth, I had found boys of little interest, except for the admiration, which they had accorded me. I had held myself, though frequently dating, rather aloof. I did not much care to have boys put their mouths on me. I would brush them back, or thrust them away, appear offended, say "No," firmly to them. They would apologize, stammer, redden. Perhaps I was angry? They were sorry, truly sorry. Perhaps I was angry? Would I forgive them? Could I even consider going out with them again? Perhaps. But what sort of girl did they think I was?
I lay in the grass, and smiled to myself.
I wondered at what sort of girl I was. There had begun to stir in me feelings which I had never felt before. Dimly I had begun to sense how it could be that a woman could give herself totally to a man.
I thought of the stranger. I laughed to myself. He was no boy. With boys I had always felt in command, but with the strange, mighty man in whose power I now was I knew I was not in command. He was in command, completely. At his slightest word I would leap to serve him. How furious, how jealous, would the boys have been had they seen how perfectly the haughty, beautiful girl they could not even interest or impress now responded swiftly, eagerly, even to the snapping of fingers of another, of a true man. How they would have hated and feared him! How they would have envied him his casual sovereignty over the beauty! How perfectly he controlled her, as they could not! They could not even please her. She feared only she could not please him.
I lay nude on the grass of that strange world, in which I found myself in the power of a man other than I dreamed men could be. I had been aloof, haughty, smug, too good for men. Now I feared only I might insufficiently please one man, him in whose power I was. Feelings stirred in me which I had not felt before. Dimly I had begun to understand how it could be that a woman could give herself, fully, to a male. But I wondered if I would have the opportunity to give myself. I might not be accorded this honor. On this world it seemed men took what they wanted. I might not, on this world, I knew, be extended the courtesy of delicately proffering my virginity as I saw fit, in accord with my will. I smiled. I would not be, I suspected, on this world permitted to choose upon whom I would bestow it. Perhaps, rather, I supposed, it would be I who would be chosen, and, regardless of my will, it would simply be taken from me.
I sensed the return of the man. I rolled to my elbow, quickly. He was standing nearby.
I looked up at him.
But he did not command me to my back upon the turf; he did not kick apart my legs.
Rather he gestured that I should rise. I did so.
I stood straight before him, as I knew he wished me to do. On Earth never had I stood so straight. On this world I knew it was expected of me. On this world I did not know what I was. But I did know that on this world, whatever it was that I was, I was expected to stand beautifully. I did so. It was part of my obedience.
He did not move, but stood, leaning on his spear. He did not pay me much attention. I was merely there, subject to him, should he speak or gesture.
After a time, he moved about the small clearing and, with his foot, erased the slight signs of our camp, the few small signs of our sojourn in this tiny forest glade. He had made no fires.
Then again he stood near me, leaning on his spear. Again he did not pay me much attention. I stood to one side. I stood straight. I did not, of course, dare to speak, or, in any way, to intrude myself on his attention. I did not wish to be again cuffed or disciplined. I stood there. I stood to one side, unimportant.
I watched him. It was dark now.
My mind raced rapidly. Contrary to yesterday, he had not this day traveled in the light, but had spent the day in this tiny glade, only a few feet wide, concealed by trees about, and, overhead, by their interlacing branches. He had made no fires. He had now, with the coming of darkness, taken up his weapons and erased the small signs of our brief camp. That he had erased the signs of the camp, that he had taken these precautions, suggested to me that we stood now in a region within which there might be those who would be hostile to him, that at our peril we trespassed now in what might be a country of enemies. I shuddered. I looked about myself, with apprehension, at the shadows of the trees and branches. Did they contain enemies, with steel, approaching even now? Might we be set upon, ambushed or attacked? There was a rustle in a thicket of brush, at which the man had been directing his attention. I almost cried out with fear. I sank miserably to my knees. I tried to take his left leg in my hands, to hold him, but, with the butt of his spear, he thrust me back and away. I flew painfully back to the grass. The jabbing blow had not been gentle. I crawled back. I was terrified. I crouched closely behind him, hiding myself behind him, one knee in the grass. I tried to peer about his body. If I had had a weapon, a civilized weapon, even so slight as a small pistol, which I might have grasped, steadying it, with both hands, I might have feared less, but I had nothing, absolutely nothing. I had nothing, and was totally vulnerable. I did not even have a stitch of clothing, a thread, with which to protect my body. My single and only defense was the steel and prow
ess of the man who stood between me and what, some yards away, rustled in the dark brush. I depended upon him, completely. I needed him. Without him I would have been helpless, utterly. I moaned thinking of how defenseless women must be on this world. I supposed they might carry perhaps a slim blade, manageable to their small strength and weight, a poniard or dagger, but what if an assailant, such as the man in whose power I was, was simply to take it from them? I did not know it at the time but girls such as I was to be were not permitted to carry even so slight a weapon as a woman's dagger. Girls such as I was to be were completely dependent upon the protection of men, and whether they chose to extend it. My hand went before my mouth. I saw it, in the darkness, emerging from the brush. I thought, at first, because of its sinuous movement, that it was a great snake, but it was not. I thought, seeing it, holding itself closely to the ground, but yet free of the ground, that it might be a long-bodied lizard. Then, as moonlight fell through the tree branches in a pattern across its snout and neck, I saw not scales, but rippled fur, long and thick. Its eyes caught the light and flashed like burning copper. It snarled. I gasped. It had six legs. It was perhaps twenty feet in length, perhaps eleven hundred pounds in weight. It approached sinuously, hissing. The man spoke soothingly to the beast. His spear faced it. It circled us, and the man turned, always, spear ready, facing it. I kept behind the man. Then the beast disappeared in the shadows. I collapsed at the man's feet, shuddering. He did not admonish me. I was not punished. He had not acted as though he particularly feared the beast It was not simply that he was brave, and had hunted such animals, but, as I later understood, that he was familiar with the habits of such beasts. The beast had not been hunting us. Commonly such a beast scouts prey, surreptitiously, and then, unless suspecting a trap, as with a tethered victim, perhaps a staked-out girl, used as a lure,.makes its swift, unexpected strike, its kill charge. The beast had been on another scent, probably that of tabuk, a small, single-horned antelopelike creature, its common game, and, on its trail, we had constituted only a distraction. Such a beast is a tireless and single-minded hunter. Domesticated, it is often used as a tracker. Once it sets out upon a scent it commonly pursues it unwaveringly. Evolution, in its case, has, among other things, apparently selected for tenacity. This is a useful feature, of course, in tracking. Fortunately ours had not been the first scent that night which the beast, upon emerging from its lair, had taken. Had it been there would have been grim dealings. It is called a sleen.
I had not known such animals could exist. I knelt at the man's feet, the right side of my head to his ankle. How perilous suddenly I realized was the world in which I found myself. I was completely defenseless, helpless. In a world such as this, without a man such as he to protect me, I might be simply hunted down, and torn to pieces by wild beasts. I needed a man such as he to protect me. I looked up at him. He must protect met I needed his protection. I would pay any price necessary for his protection. In his eyes I saw that he would exact what price he pleased. I put my head down. How I feared a world on which there were such men, and beasts! The name of this world is Gor.
He gestured me to my feet and I stood again, straight, frightened, he regarding me. He had already erased the signs of our small camp. This I had taken as evidence that he was ready to soon make his departure from this place. I did not meet his eyes. I did not dare to meet them. In his presence, aside from my fear and vulnerability, I felt, for the first time in my life, certain deep, and overwhelming and indescribable sensations. These sensations, I knew, had something to do with sexuality, his maleness, so strong, so dominant, and my femaleness, so small, so weak, so much at his mercy. I was confused, astonished, troubled. I wanted to please him. Yes! Could it be possible? Can that be imagined in such a situation! That I, an Earth girl, the helpless captive of a brutally handsome, mighty barbarian, wished to please him, and as a woman? Yes, it is true. It is simply true. Hold me in contempt if you must. I do not object. I am not ashamed. I wanted to please the dominant beast. Further, I wanted to please him not simply from fear but also, incredibly perhaps to your mind, out of an inexplicable gratitude for his dominance, which, for no reason I understood, and in spite of my Earth conditioning, I found glorious. I found myself grateful for his strength, and proud for it, though I knew I was the helpless object upon which it would be exercised. I found these sensations deeply disturbing, and profoundly thrilling. I stood straight. I, though a girl of Earth, virginal, well trained and conditioned, intelligent and of good family, wanted to throw myself naked in the grass at the feet of such a man, his.
He lifted his head, and looked away from me, out through the trees.
I was eager to carry his shield, to have its heavy weight placed across my small back, that I might serve him again, as I had before, as his lovely beast of burden, heeling him, but he did not again stagger me beneath that ponderous weight He stood now, I knew, in a country of enemies. He retained the shield, as he did the spear, the sword.
I wanted to beg him on my knees to rape me.
He turned and left the tiny glade. Swiftly I followed him.
We did not walk far.
As I walked behind him I castigated myself for my weakness in the glade. How I hated myself! How I must improve and strive to be strong. So narrowly had I evaded the loss of my personhood, my self-respect. In the glade, in the darkness, among the trees, so much his, I had almost compromised my identity and integrity! I, a girl of Earth, had wanted to yield to him, a harsh barbarian! Was I not a free individual, a person? Had I no pride? How furious I was with myself. I knew that, in the glade, had he so much as put his hand forth to touch my shoulder, I would have sunk trembling, eager, moaning, helpless, to the grass at his feet. I would have writhed before him for his slightest touch. How relieved I was that I had escaped this degradation. How angry I was. Why had he not taken me in the glade? Had he no regard for my feelings? Had I not been sufficiently pleasing to him?
He turned about, and, with a gesture, cautioned me to immobility and silence.
We stood at the edge of the trees.
Approaching, in the darkness, we saw some twenty torches. I was frightened. I did not know what manner of men these might be.
There were some seventy or eighty individuals in the retinue, which was strung out. The length of their line of march was perhaps some forty or fifty yards, its width some ten yards. Ten men, armed, on each side, flanked the march. These carried the torches. Some five men, armed, preceded the march, some three followed. Some ten or twelve other armed men, here and there, occupied positions in the march. In the march, too, there occurred two platforms and, following, toward the rear, one wagon. The platforms were white, and carried on the shoulders of ten men apiece; the wagon was brown, and was drawn by two large, brown, wide-horned, shaggy, oxlike shambling creatures, conducted by two men. The men who carried the platforms and those who conducted the shambling oxlike creatures were dressed not dissimilarly from the others, those flanking the march and those in and about the march.
The march approached. The man in whose power I was slipped back more deeply among the trees. I, of course, drew back with him. He did not seem disturbed, or surprised, at the line of march. I sensed that he had expected it, that he had, perhaps, been waiting for it, that he had scouted it.
The line of march would take its way rather closely to us. We were concealed in brush, silent.
The line of march approached the trees. I could see that, on the first carried platform, there were some five figures, those of women; on the second there were several chests and boxes, some covered with sheens of glistening material; in the wagon, under a loose canvas, were other boxes, but simpler and grosser in appearance, and poles and tenting materials, and arms and casks of fluid.
We withdrew a bit further into the brush.
The line of march would approach us rather closely. My captor had put aside his shield and spear. He now stood behind me, and slightly to my left. His hands were on my upper arms. We, in the light of the torches, watche
d the approaching retinue.
I was thrilled, it was so barbaric.
What different humans these were, on this unhurried, stately, barbaric world, so different from that which I knew. I wondered how I had come here, and what I might be doing here.
The vanguard of the torched procession neared us. I could see the weapons of the men. The tunics, scarlet, the helmets and shields, were not cut and formed, and decorated, as were those of the brute who held me by the upper arms.
He did not seem to wish his presence detected.
Suddenly I wanted to cry out. My body had perhaps moved m the slightest tremor. I froze. The blade of his knife was across my throat. His left hand, large and heavy, was firmly fixed across my mouth. I could utter no sound. With the blade at my throat I did not so much as squirm. I remained absolutely still.
Perhaps these men, toward whom he conducted himself as an intruder and enemy, might rescue me! Surely they could be no worse than the brute who held me. He was not a gentleman. Perhaps they were. He had fought with savage steel to possess me; he had candidly, upon his victory, to my horror, appraised my flesh; he had kept me bound for hours; he had made me carry his shield, and heel him like an animal; he had cuffed me, and put me under discipline! He had not treated me as the free and rightful person I was! I had wanted to cry out, to attract the attention of the other men. Perhaps they might rescue me! Perhaps they might return me, somehow, to Earth, or put me in touch with those with whom I might negotiate arrangements for my return to my native world.
John Norman - Gor 11 Page 5