Kajira of Gor (55 page)

She rotated her body about a hundred degrees to her left.

“On your belly,” he said.

She went to her belly, her hands at the sides of her head. he changed his

position a little. He was now a bit behind her, and to her left. He was

right-handed.

She began to tremble.

He looked down at her.

I, kneeling, tightened the grasp on my ankles. I was sweating.

I looked at the branded female on the tiles.

Sheila, who had once been the Tatrix of Corcyrus, now a slave girl, lay at the

feet of Ligurious, who had once been her first minister, positioned.

How she had used him, and tortured him! How cleverly she had manipulated him,

how insidiously and cunningly she had exploited him!

He let the blades of the whip, idly, brush her back. She whimpered. I recalled

her words, two evenings ago, in the banquet hall, how she had said that she had

made him dance like a puppet to her will, how she had deprived him of his

leadership and manhood.

He drew the blades back, away from her body. “What are you?” he asked.

“A slave, Master,” she said.

“And what else?” he asked.

“Naught else, Master,” she said.

I wondered if she retained power over him yet. I saw the whip swing back now,

and to the side.

He held it with both hands. On Earth a woman may reduce, diminish and destroy a

man with impunity. This, however, was not Earth; it was Gor. I saw the whip

pause at the height of its arc.

I wondered if she retained power over him yet. Then I saw his eyes. In them I

saw that the spell which she had exercised over him was broken.

I cried out and averted my eyes, swiftly, as the whip fell. The beating lasted

only a few moments.

Then I looked back. Sheila was on her side, her body flaming with burning

stripes; she was gasping and sobbing; she looked wildly up at Ligurious, a

Gorean master. Then she looked away from him, not daring to meet his eyes. She,

a female, lay now at the feet of a male, he totally dominant over her. She was

now in her place in nature.

“Do you wish to be whipped further?” he asked.

“No, Master!” she sobbed.

“You will serve well, and yield perfectly,” he said.

“Yes, Master!” she said, fervently

Ligurious turned to face me. “You may break position,” he said.

Swiftly I released my ankles and slipped from the surface of the couch, to stand

beside it.

“Bring furs from the surface of the couch, and spread them here, on the tiles,”

he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said. I saw that, in his use of her, he would not permit Sheila

the dignity of the couch.

“Kiss the furs,” said he to her, “and crawl upon them.” She did so.

“On your back,” said he to her, “split your legs, part your lips, lift your arms

to me.”

The slave complied. He forced her to hold the position for a few moments and

then he crouched down near her and took her head in his hands, pulling her up to

a seated position, and crushed her lips beneath his. She murmured and moaned,

and then, when he thrust her back, I saw there was blood at her mouth. She

whimpered, frightened. I think he had waited years for that kiss.

Then, patiently, and with uncompromising authority, he addressed himself to her

beauty. In moments, choiceless, she was a sobbing, aroused, begging slave.

“You amuse me,” he said.

“Please, Master,” she begged. “Please!”

But he continued to tease and torment her, toying with her emotions and passions

She writhed in his arms, pleading, helpless and needful, performing and

commanded. She might have been a paga slave or a girl rented on a mat in the

back streets of Argentum.

“You juice well,” he informed her.

“Thank you, Master,” she sobbed. “Please, Master! Please!”

I lay on my side, at the edge of the furs, near them. I watched with

fascination, learning what a man could do to one who was how no more than one of

my sisters in bondage.

Then, after a time, at last, he permitted her her slave’s yielding, and in it

she cried out her slavery, and her submission to men, and, specifically, to he

who was her master of the evening.

Then she lay in his arms, softly and tenderly, an over-whelmed, submitted slave.

I thought the vengeance he had taken on her had been exquisite. In his arms she

had found her bondage well confirmed upon her.

Ligurious, Sheila in his arms, looked over at me. I then lay, my belly sucked

in, my legs slightly flexed, my toes pointed, as seductively as possible before

him. I, too, was a slave, and at his disposal this evening.

He rolled to his back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I did not know that you were such a man,” she whispered.

“Nor I,” he smiled, “that you were such a woman.”

“You were harsh with me, Master,” she smiled.

“Do you object?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

I then crawled to him, and kissed him gently on the thigh. I did not wish to be

forgotten.

“A fortunate man am I,” said Ligurious, “to be served by two Tatrixes.

“Two slaves, Master,” she smiled.

Twice more that night did he make use of her, and, at various times, he had one

or another of us, and sometimes both, please and serve him. Toward morning, when

she slept, he made use of me again, and I yielded to him once more, gasping

softly, as a slave to the master.

Then later we lay together, quietly. It felt good to lie close to such a strong

man, a master.

“Sheila will make Hassan a fine slave,” he said.

“He will see to it,” I smiled.

“She loves him,” he said.

“With the profundity of the slave,” I acknowledged.

“He loves her, too, I think,” he said.

“I think so, too, Master,” I said. “Do you love her?”

“No,” he said. “That infatuation was an illness. I am cured now. I retain,

however, of course, a fondness for her as might anyone for a pleasing slave.”

“Then, too,” I said, “it is my hope that you have some fondness for me.”

“Yes,” he said, “I am also fond of you.”

“May I speak?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“It is a long time since I was brought to Gor with steel on my ankle.”

“Yes,” he said. That band of steel had been removed from me in Corcyrus. It was,

I gathered, a device by means of which slavers, or those in league with Beasts,

or those opposed to Priest-Kings, marked women brought to Gor for their

purposes.

“The major purpose for~ which I was brought to Gor, I gather,” I said, “was to

serve as a precautionary double for Sheila, one who might then, particularly in

the event of the failure of your plans, serve to confuse or deceive enemies, one

who might, say, divert attention from her true whereabouts, one who might even,

perhaps, be caught and sentenced in her place, that she might then make good her

escape.”

“Yes,” said Ligurious, “that sort of thing, precisely, and well would you have

served such purposes had you not managed to escape from the camp of Argentum.”

“Do you begrudge me my escape, Master?” I asked.

“No,” he said, “for had you not escaped I would still be not as a master to a

woman but as, in effect, her slave.”

“If there was a major purpose for which I was brought to Gor,” I said, “then it

seems evident, and I think you have stated or implied as much, that there must

have been a minor purpose, or purposes, as well.” I recalled I had gathered

something of this sort even from the agents I had met on Earth.

“Yes,” he said, “of course, and to understand it, and well, you would need only

to regard yourself, and closely, in the mirror. In particular, note the beauty

of your face, its intelligence and sensitivity, and your softness and

femininity, so different from that of more masculine women, those with larger

amounts of male hormones, and the lusciousness of your slave curves. There was

indeed a minor purpose for which you were brought to Gor, that purpose which I

called to your attention in the throne room, here in Argentum, that purpose

which you now, you little she-sleen, obviously wish to hear explicitly

reiterated.”

“Oh?” I asked, innocently.

“That purpose for which most women are brought to Gor,” he said.

“And what purpose might that be?” I inquired, innocently.

“That purpose which you now, from your hair to your toes, manifest so

perfectly,” he said.

“Oh?” I asked.

“That purpose?” he said. “Is it not obvious? It was to be made a female slave.”

“Yes, Master,” I said, and kissed him.

For a time we lay quietly side by side, not speaking. Each of us, I think, had

our thoughts.

“Master,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he said.

“May I speak again?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Sheila and I have our collars,” I said. “We must go where masters wish, heeding

them and doing their bidding. But what of you? Tomorrow you will have your

freedom. What will you do? Where will you go?”

“Away,” he said. “I do not really know.” He kissed me, softly, and I kissed him

back, gently.

Then he fell asleep.

I lay there for a time. Sheila was owned by Hassan, whom ~she loved. I, like

many women, was owned by Miles of Argentum, whom I admired and respected, and

feared, and to whom I could not help but yield helplessly and promptly, but whom

I did not love. Tears sprang into my eyes.

Then, after a time, I, too, fell asleep.

35
   
I Am Proven a Natural Slave Before Drusus Rencius, Whom I Love; The Silver

Tarsk

“Here,” said Drusus Reticius, angrily, to Publius, of house of Kliomenes.

I jerked the bit of slave silk tightly, defensively, about body, and backed from

the soldier.

I could not help responding as I had!

“It is as I told you, long ago, in Corcyrus,” smiled Publius

“Yes,” said Drusus Rencius. He then placed a silver tarsk in the hand of

Publius.

“Do not withdraw, Slave,” said Publius to me.

“Yes, Master,” I said, and knelt; on the broad stair lea( up to the serving dais

in the private dining room in palace at Argentum.

“It is not wise to wager against a slaver in such matters said Publius. “We can

tell such matters at a glance.”

“I had thought, then, at least, that she was different,” Drusus Rencius.

“She is too vital and healthy, and has too strong drive be different,” said

Publius.

I knelt on the broad stair, embarrassed, holding the silk about me. On this same

stair, and on the floor below, on the surface of the dais itself, before the

long, low, table, I had been ordered to writhe, to the music. Then I been

ordered to stand, my knees flexed, with my hands clasped behind my neck. Then a

soldier had been ordered feel me. I had jerked and almost screamed from his

touch. The man had smelled his hand, and laughed. is “You are right,” had said

Drusus Rencius to Publius, a slave, and a natural one.”

“Yes,” had said Publius.

I put down my head and stared, angrily, at the carpeting on the stair. I had

known for months, of course, that I was a natural slave. It is not hard for a

woman to know this. It can be made clear to her in many ways, for example, from

dreams and fantasies, and from wishes, desires and needs. It is one thing for a

woman to know this, of course, and quite another for her to find it made the

subject of a public demonstration.

“You see,” said Publius, “is it not as I told you?”

“Yes,” granted Drusus Rencius, good-naturedly.

I looked down, almost in tears, a proven natural slave. How unworthy I was of

Drusus Rencius!

“May I withdraw, Masters?” I asked.

“No,” said Publius. “Continue with your service, Sheila.”

“Yes, Master,” I said, and rose to my feet. In a few moments, again, I was

serving the men, bringing them food and drink, seemingly as though nothing had

happened.

This matter went back to the time when I was a free woman, and had been taken

for a tour to the house of Kliomenes by Drusus Rencius. In Publius’s office he

had made the wager, while I knelt in the light to one side. Drusus Rencius had

accepted it.

“Cakes, Masters?” I asked, kneeling near them, proffering them the tray.

“Yes,” said Drusus Rencius.

“Yes,” said Publius.

Drusus Rencius and Publius did not have slaves of their own in Argentum. Susan

and I had been volunteered by our master, Miles of Argentum, to serve them. With

a movement of Publius’s finger, I was dismissed from the side of their table.

I replaced the tray of tiny cakes on the nearby serving table.

Susan then approached the diners. “Black wine, Masters?’ she asked.

“Yes,” said Drusus Rencius.

“Yes,” said Publius.

Susan then turned to me and snapped her fingers. “Sheila,” she called.

“Yes, Mistress,” I said. I took the vessel of black wine, removing it from its

warmer, and put it on its tray, that already bearing the tiny cups, the creams

and sugars, the spices, the napkins and spoons. I then carried the tray, with

the black wine, hot and steaming, to the table and put it down there. Susan

then, as “first slave,” took the orders and did the measuring and mixing; I, as

“second slave,” did the pouring. Afterward I returned the tray to the serving

table, and the vessel of black wine to its warmer I then joined Susan, kneeling