Mercenaries of Gor (27 page)

"If you take me," she said, "I will remain inert. I will not participate in your pleasure."

"You do not seem very inert to me," I said.

She squirmed.

"Was that a threat?" I asked. I lifted her head up by the hair, with both hands. The padlock on the collar swung free. I could dash her brains out on the marble bench.

"No," she said. "No, Master!"

I let her put her head down. The padlock again lay on the marble bench. There was a sound from the chains on her wrists. Beneath the bench the chain linking her ankles moved on the floor of the Semnium.

"There are many ways to take a woman," I said. "All of them are pleasurable. Much depends on the situation, and the time of day, and the preferences of the master. If you think that the pleasure of the man is inextricably linked with the pleasure of the woman you are naïve. That is a common misunderstanding of the free woman. That is much (pg.194) like thinking that the fruit cannot be enjoyed if it has not first begged to be plucked from the tree. That is simply not true. One can simply take it and enjoy it. Indeed, there is something to be said for such takings. In them one simply imposes one's will upon the helpless other. In them one senses imperiousness and power. Those who have felt such things know their value."

"I am yours to do with as you wish," she said, "and you know it well."

"I wonder if I should force you to yield," I mused.

She lay quietly now, tense, muchly aroused, not knowing what my decision would be. Whatever it was, helpless as she was, she would abide it.

Her wrists suddenly jerked up, and were then stopped by the chain. The chain under the bench, on her ankles, moved, too, as her feet moved under the bench.

"Lie still," I told her.

I then began, with care, and exquisite delicacy, not hurrying, to exploit her profound needs, and the remarkable vitality of her body. I thought she would, in time, make a splendid slave. It would be a lucky fellow, who would have her in his collar.

"He is making me yield!" she said.

I continued to draw her gently, and as implacably as though she were bound and on a leash, up the long stairwell of her need and helplessness. It was as though, then, that I had brought her, whimpering and needful, with me, again in the Gorean fashion, down a long, patient, narrow-walled, heavily carpeted corridor, one in which her bare feet could feel the deep, soft piling of the carpeting, and through a heavy, barred door, one which I had locked behind me, showing her that there was no escape for her, and had then put her, mine, to her place at the foot of my couch.

"Take me!' she cried. "I beg you to take me!'

"I wonder if I should force you to yield," I said.

"I beg to yield!' she wept.

"Mother!" cried the girl.

"But your daughter is present," I reminded her.

"I beg to yield!' she wept, "I beg to yield!"

(pg. 195) "No, Mother!" cried the girl. "Do not permit him to so degrade you!"

"Be silent," wept the mother. "He has put me in his power."

"When you are instructed to do so," I said, "you will yield."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Do not yield, Mother!" cried the girl.

"You will now yield," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I now rolled again in my blankets. It was an Ahn or so until dawn. I must try to catch a bit of sleep. I felt content. I felt good. The female on the bench had now been returned to the common chain. She had been the last placed on that bench this night. When I had finished with her I had sat for few Ehn on the bench, beside her, and had put my hand down before her. She had licked and kissed it, in gratitude, the padlock on her collar moving gently on the marble. I gathered that she had desperately needed what I had done to her. This was particularly interesting, as she was not even, as yet, a slave.

"What a slut your are!' the daughter whispered chidingly, angrily, to her mother. Her mother now lay near her, on her side, her legs drawn up.

"Yes, my daughter," said the mother.

"You were like a slave!" said the daughter.

"I will soon be a slave, truly," said the mother, "and so, too, do not forget, will you, my darling daughter."

"I do not respect you any longer," said the daughter. "You do not deserve respect any longer."

"I do not ask for your respect," said the woman. "Neither do I need it, nor any longer want it. There are things better and deeper than respect. That I have now learned. Too, when we are both enslaved, neither of us will be entitled to that commodity. Our conditions then, I assure you, will be far deeper and more biological than respect. I ask, rather, your understanding, and a little love."

"I hate you!" cried the girl.

(pg. 196) "As you will," said the woman.

Suddenly the daughter lashed out and struck her. The mother cried out, softly, and drew her legs up more, but did not attempt to defend herself, nor to return the blow.

"Hateful slut!' hissed the daughter.

"Is it so hard for you to understand that I, like you am a female," asked the mother, "only that, and one now, like you, naked, and in a collar?"

"Slut!" hissed the daughter.

"Are you angry," asked the woman, "that some men might prefer me to you?"

'No!" said the daughter, intensely.

"Did you wish it was you, and not I, who was chained on your belly to the bench, helplessly put out for the pleasure of strangers?"

"No!" she said angrily.

"Are you truly so jealous of me?" asked the woman.

"No, no!" said the daughter, almost crying out, wildly.

"Be silent," said another woman on the chain. "You will get us all whipped."

"Mother," whispered the girl. "I am chained, and naked, and afraid."

"Of course you are, my dear," said the woman. She then sat up. "Come here, sweet," she said. She took her daughter gently in her arms, and held her head against her shoulder.

"What is to become of us?" asked the girl.

"We are to become slaves," said the woman softly, kissing her gently on the side of the head.

"Men will have their way with us, fully," whispered the girl.

"Of course," said the mother.

"We will exist merely for their service and pleasure," said the girl.

"Yes," said the mother, kissing her.

"I want it, Mother," whispered the girl.

"I know," said the mother, soothingly.

"How terrible I am," whispered the girl.

"No, no, you are not," smiled the mother, caressing the girl's head.

(pg. 197) "Are we slaves, Mother?" asked the girl.

"Yes," said the mother, kissing her. "Now, rest."

"I love you, Mother," said the girl.

"I love you, too, very much," said the mother.

"Good night, Mother," whispered the girl, "261."

"Good night, 437," said the woman gently, "my daughter."

* * *

I awakened to the hand of Mincon on my shoulder. "It is time to rise," he said.

I sat up in the blankets. I glanced over to where the fair prisoners had been kept. They were gone now. They had been moved out.

Mincon handed me a packet of letter. "Here," he said. "They are all here."

"How do you know I am going to carry them?" I asked.

"Aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, and thrust them into my tunic.

"I have had your weapons, and other things, brought," he said. "Do you have the claim ticket for Feiqa?"

"Yes," I said. "It is in my wallet."

"Most of the other girls have already been picked up," he said.

"Surely it is still early?" I said.

"Not really, my friend," he said. "Even Hurtha is up."

"That late?" I marveled. It was well known that Hurtha often slept past dawn. To be sure I occasionally permitted myself a similar indulgence, particularly after a pleasant evening with drink and slaves.

"Yes," said Mincon. "He and Boabissia are waiting for you, outside."

"I must speak to them," I said. "It is necessary to inform them of the dangers we might face. They might not wish to accompany me."

"I have already spoken to them," said Mincon. "Boabissia is determined to go to Ar. It seems she seeks there the answer to some mystery pertaining to her past. Hurtha, too, naturally, is undeterred."

"Naturally," I said.

"He seeks adventure," said Mincon.

(pg. 198) "Wonderful," I said.

"He likes you," said Mincon.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes," said Mincon. "He appreciates finding someone who listens gladly to his poetry."

"Gladly?" I asked.

"He has already composed a poem this morning," said Mincon. "He considers it a humorous poem. It is a jolly teasing of folks who sleep late."

"Hurtha is composing such a poem?" I asked.

"Yes," said Mincon. "Too, aside from adventure, and such, I think he regards himself as being on Alar business."

"What is that?" I asked.

"He plans on scouting out the territories of Ar, to see if they are worth seizing by Alars."

"I think he does not quite understand what is involved," I said.

"True," said Mincon.

"I will pick up Feiqa," I said.

"Your things are over there," said Mincon.

In a few moments I was descending the outside steps of the Semnium, Feiqa heeling me, carrying my pack.

"Tal Rarius!" called Hurtha, heartily.

"Tal Rarius!" I said to him.

"Greetings," said Boabissia.

"Greetings," I said to her. She seemed to me very pretty this morning, smiling, in the long Alar dress. I think she was wearing it a little differently. I think she had corded it a bit more snugly. Clearly the delights of her figure were more evident now within it. Perhaps I should speak to her about that. She might not realize what that sort of thing might do to men, how it might stimulate and effect them, particularly strong men. Ever since we had set her out for the fellows at the wagon camp, making some coppers on her, a subtle change had seemed to come over her, indeed, a sort of transformation was becoming more and more evident every day. She seemed to be becoming more radiant, and female. I noted she even wore the yellow metal disk on her neck, on its (pg. 199) thong, a bit more snugly than she had before. The thong was looped twice about her neck now.

"I wish you well, all of you," said Mincon.

We bade him farewell.

"Even you, pretty, enslaved Feiqa," he said.

"Thank you, Master," she said. "And I, too, wish you well."

Mincon then motioned to a guard. The man approached. Mincon spoke to him as though we might be strangers, unknown to him, just emerged from the Semnium. "Put these civilians with the others," he said. "Usher them forth, with the others, from the city."

"Move," said the guard, going behind us, prodding us with his spear. "Over there. Get over there, with the others."

"Do not resist," I said to Hurtha.

"Very well," he said, agreeably.

"Oh!" said Feiqa, suddenly. The guard apparently, for his amusement, touched her with his spear blade, probably putting it between her legs and moving it upward, brushing it against the interior of her thigh.

As we passed another guard she cried out, again, softly. He had apparently lifted her brief skirt with the blade of his sword, considering her. Then we were with the larger group.

"Master," said Feiqa.

"Yes," I said.

"Let it be you," she said.

I regarded her. I saw that the attentions she had received had much aroused her, the merciless weapon metal of men about her legs and belly. Her needs were much upon her. She had passed the night alone, a checked item, awaiting a morning pickup, on a holding chain. Such attentions as she had received, particularly when they literally touch the body, are sometimes called the caresses of the master's steel.

She shuddered, facing away from me, hearing the draw of my steel. She stood very straight. She was quite pretty. I waited for a few moments, and then touched her, and then, after a time, lifted her skirt, that she could feel the air upon her, and then, after a longer time, when I was pleased to do so, let it fall. "Please, Master," she begged. "Perhaps (pg. 200) tonight," I said. "All right," said a voice. "Now, move, all of you!' I resheathed the steel and, with Hurtha and Boabissia, now again followed by Feiqa, moved along with the throng down the Avenue of Adminius toward the great gate of Torcadino.

"How terrible it must be to be a slave," said Boabissia, "and to have to submit to whatever men choose to do to you."

I did not respond.

"Don't you think so?" she asked.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Like having your body touched with their steel," she said, "as poor, dear little Feiqa."