Kajira of Gor (34 page)

“It is pleasant for one such as I to be called sir by the Tatrix of Corcyrus,”

he said.

“Please do not tell them,” I begged, “—Sirl”

“Who are you supposed to be?” he asked.

“The Lady Lita, of Lydius,” I said.

“Lita’?” he grinned. “That is a splendid name for you. ellent.”

trembled. That name, especially when not prefixed by Lady’, I felt, somehow, did

seem to have a certain rightness me; I wondered if, in some sense, I was a

“Lita,” or, say, Tuka,” or a “Lana,” other common names for slaves on r.

Earth-girl names, too, incidentally, are commonly used lave names on Gor, such

as Jean, Joan, Priscilla, Sally, orah, Lois, Sandra and Stacy. At any rate the

name did e me feel slightly uneasy, and excited, and rather like a

e. This was perhaps a function of its simplicity, loveliness’ femininity. I

hardly dared speculate what I might feel if it were actually put upon me and I

were then to discover that, by a master’s will, I had become “Lita.” The c was

originally given to me, I recalled, by Drusus Ren put upon me as a part of my

disguise, and for the pures of my licensing, in the house of Kliomenes. I felt

ientarily angry. The beast must have known that it was a mon slave name.

Where were you caught?” be asked.

North of Venna,” I said, “on the Viktel Aria.”

“Well,” said Speusippus, “I think I will now call the Arn’s man and tell him who

you are.”

“Please, do not, Sir,” I begged.

“Do you have friends who can vouch for you, that she is yours?”

“I am from Turia,” said Speusippus. “I am a stranger in this beautiful city.”

“Things, then, are not so simple,” said the Archon’s man. “As you can see she is

not even collared or branded. She is claiming to be a free woman.”

“No, Master,” I said.

“Perhaps I could hold her for ten days,” said the Archon’s man, “and then, if

there are no other claimants, turn her over to you.” He looked at me. “What did

you say?” he asked.

“I am not a free woman, Master,” I said. “I am a slave.’

“There are still problems,” said the Archon’s man. “She will deny that she is

your slave.”

“No, Master,” I said. “I am his.” I almost choked on the words. Too, the words

themselves frightened me, terribly. I knew that I was lying, of course, but

still they frightened me. How fearful it would be, I thought, to say such words

and know that they were true, that one did belong, fully, to a man.

“Do you admit that you are his slave?” the Archon’s man asked me.

“Do you acknowledge that, and freely, and not under torture?”

“Yes, Master,” I said. “I am his slave.”

“Then you were lying to us before,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

He unclipped the whip from his belt.

“No, no,” smiled Speusippus. “That will not be necessary. I am sure that little

Lita has learned her lesson. Haven’t you, Lita?”

“Yes, Master,” I said. I twisted in the chains, making sure that the Archon’s

man had returned the whip to his belt. He had done so, I noted with relief.

“You have not even had her branded and collared,” said the Archon’s man. “If I

were you I would see to these details promptly. If she escapes from you again,

you might not recover her so easily.

Someone else, having her properly marked and collared, might decide to keep

her.”

“I shall take all of these matters under the most serious consideration,” said

Speusippus, nodding soberly.

I smiled to myself. I saw that Speusippus had no intention of doing anything so

cruel as putting a brand on me or anything as degrading as putting my neck in a

collar. Too, he had not let the Archon’s man whip me. I saw that Speusippus

would treat me with lenience, kindness and deference. I saw that I had nothing

to fear from Speusippus. After all, I was a free woman, and the Tatrix of

Corcyrus.

“Thank you, Master,” I said, in relief, to the Archon’s man, as he released my

wrists from the shackles. It felt so good to put my arms down. I almost fell on

the platform.

“Poor little Lita,” said Speusippbs, sympathetically. He patted me, tenderly, on

the shoulder. “This has been such a terrible experience for you. But do not

worry now, little Lita, It is over. I will take you away with me now.”

“Thank you, Master,” I whimpered, playing my role.

But then I felt my hands tied behind my back, with a wire-cored cord. I was

tied, and well.

Then I was leashed like a dog, or less than a dog. It was a slave leash. I was

leashed like a slave.

“May I reimburse you for her keep?” inquired Speusippus.

“No,” said the Archon’s man. “Such serVices’are furnished by the city.”

“Splendid,” said Speusippus. “Come along, Lita.” I felt the tug of the leash. I

was leashed!

“Do not spoil her,” cautioned the Archon’s man.

“We would not want to spoil you now, would we, Lita?” asked Speusippus.

“No, Master,” I whispered. I shuddered. Gorean slaves, I suspected, were seldom

in any danger of being spoiled. They were commonly held under disciplines of

iron.

I followed Speusippus down from the platform. I did not want the leash to be

pulled taut.

“Master,” I said.

“Yes?” he said.

“Can you read the sign that was posted over my head, please?”

“Yes,” said he. “It says, ‘Who owns this slave? Who can identify her?’”

“That is all?” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” I said. For so little I had been struck by the free woman,

and tricked and frustrated in the chains!

He pulled me closer to him by the leash. I did not want to stand so close to

him.

On the sign, it seemed, it had been presupposed that I was a slave.

To be sure, Gorean men tended to look upon me, it seemed, as though I belonged

in that degraded category, or as though it might, in fact, be mine.

“Have no fear,” grinned Speusippus. They are well satisfied. From their point of

view the slave has been identified and her owner has been located. Indeed, he

has even come wd claimed her.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

He then took up the slack in the leash until he held me, by he leash, but inches

from him.

Speusippus,” he said, whispering intimately to me, ‘have the Tatrix of Corcyrus

naked and on a slave leash.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“Say that word again,” be whispered, “and more slowly, pronouncedly and

beautifully.”

“Master,” I said.

“And she addresses me, Speusippus, the lowly peddler, as Master,”’ he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

He turned about, slackening the leash, and I followed him.

I was led through the streets. The people of Venna paid me little attention.

Such sights, I gathered, were not that uncommon in a Gorean city, that of a

naked, leashed slave in he care of her master.

But could they not see that I was not branded, that I was not collared?

But this seemed to make little difference. Clearly my status was either bond or

that of captive. Indeed, perhaps I was being conducted even now the shop of a

metal worker, there to be marked and reDive, and have locked upon me, measured

and fitted, a suitable, inflexible, identificatory circlet of bondage.

I followed Speusippus of Turia through the streets of Venna, even through the

great market square. I was naked, barefoot and bound. I followed him whether I

wished to or not. I was leashed.

19
   
The Trunk

“Now we are alone, Lady Sheila,” he said.

He had turned from the door, after locking it and depositing the key in his

pouch.

I stood with my back against the wooden wall. I watched him put the pouch, on

its strap, in a far corner of the room, with other articles. It was a small,

bare, largely unfurnished room. It had a common wall with a small stable, beyond

which was a small stable yard. His tharlarion was in the stable, and his wagon,

outside, in the yard, chained. His goods, in various crates and trunks, had been

brought into the small room. It was one of several such small dwellings, with

attached stables and yards, in a line, habitations rented out to teamsters and

itinerant merchants. It was on the southern outskirts of Venna.

I had scrubbed down the tharlarion, cleaning and washing its scales and claws. I

had then, under his supervision, cleaned out its stable and brought in fresh

greens for it to feed upon.

After this he had taken me to the public trough where under his instructions,

washed. We had then returned to the small dwelling in the complex where I, over

a small grill in the yard, cooking not allowed in the shacks, had cooked for

him. He had thrown me one piece of meat. In front of some of the other shacks in

the line, in the yards, I could see girls cooking for masters, too. They, of

course, were clearly slaves.

After I had cleaned the grill and washed the paraphernalia connected with his

meal we had come indoors. He had now locked the door.

I felt the roughness of the wall at my back.

He opened a chest and drew forth, from somewhere within it, apparently from

Under several other objects, a brief gray tunic, and threw it to me. I caught

it, eagerly. I had not had clothing since shortly after my capture in Corcyrus.

Even so tiny and despicable a scrap of clothing as a mere slave tunic, I then

realized, can be a precious treasure to a woman. He sat down on a box, watching

me, his hands on his knees, across the room from me. Swiftly, elatedly,

gratefully, I drew the tiny garment over my head. It was sleeveless,

scandalously short and its neckline plunged to my belly, but I welcomed it as

though it might have been the most splendid gown in the wardrobe of a Tatrix.

“Now take it off,” he said.

Slowly, numbly, I took the garment off, and dropped it to the side.

“Now kneel before me, Lady Sheila,” he said.

I dropped to my knees before him.

“Open your knees,” he said.

“I arn a free woman,” I protested.

Then I saw his eyes, and opened my knees before him

“Excellent, Lady Sheila,” he said. “Now say, Lady Sheila, the Tatrix of

Corcyrus, kneel naked, my knees open, before Speusippus of Turia.’

“I, Lady Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” I said, “kneel naked, my knees open,

before Speusippus of Turia.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Do you remember sentencing me, in Corcyrus?”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“You seemed very proud then,” he said. “You do not seem so proud now.”

“No, Master,” I said.

“You are sorry for having sentenced me, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“And you wish to atone for it, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“And I will see that you do so,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“On your belly, Lady Sheila,” he said. I lowered myself to my belly before him.

“Do you wish to be taken to Argentum for impalement?” He asked.

I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes wild. “No,” I cried. “No!”

“We are going to get along very well, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“And we are going to get to know one another very -well, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I sobbed.

“You may now beg to please me,” he said.

“Whip me!” I begged him. “Enslave me! Give me no choice! Do not make me do this

of, my own will!”

“Say,” he said, ‘I, Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus, naked and on my belly, of my own

free will, beg to please Spensippus of Turia.’ “

“I, Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus,” I said, “naked and on my belly, of my own free

will, beg to please Spensippus of Turia.”

“’And as a slave,’” he added.

“And as a slave,” I sobbed.

I lay there on the floor, sobbing, and, to my horror, watched him unroll

wretched, stinking sleeping furs.

He then removed his tunic and reclined on the furs, watching me, leaning on one

elbow.

“I do not even know how to please a man,” I said, “let alone with the sensuous

intimacies of a slave.”

“Have no fear,” he said. “I know that you are an ignorant free woman.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“But I shall expect you to show marked and rapid improvement in these matters,”

he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“If you do not,” he said, “you will be punished.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“You do not want to be punished, do you?” he asked.

“No, Master,” I said.

“You will endeavor, then, to make rapid progress in the arts of intimacy, won’t

you, Lady Sheila?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

He then beckoned that I should approach him.

“I am a virgin!” I cried.

“Excellent,” he said. “Then, before the night is done you will be opened by

Speusippus of Turia for the uses of men.”

I then, on my belly, sobbing, began to crawl toward him.

“Stop,” he said.

I stopped, puzzled. My body was still on the floor. I had not yet even come to

the edge of those stinking furs.

“You are a free woman,” he said, “and you have much to learn. We will begin with

simple things.”

“Master?” I asked.

“Lie at my feet,” he said, “and lick, and kiss and suck at them. When you have

managed to learn to do that properly, I will give you further instructions.”

“Yes,” I wept.

“Yes, what?” he asked.