Norman Invasions (43 page)

“Tell me,” she begged, “of this world!”

They lay on the furs, side by side. He spoke to her of moons, and fields, and mountains, of the great Vosk, of gleaming Thassa, of long roads, of unusual beasts, of high cities, of the song dramas and the kaissa matches, of fleets at sea and caravans by land, and of customs and practices, and even of Home Stones. And, too, he warned her of free women, and of the terrible dangers they posed to such as she, who wore the collar and bore in their beauty clear evidence of their desirability to men, the trace of the iron's kiss, the slave mark.

“Are there many such as I?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, “and they have much freedom within the city, in their collars and tunics. They are much about, and shop, and do their errands, and meet their friends, and chat and gossip, and such.”

“Are they pretty?” she asked, apprehensively.

“Certainly,” he said.

“They are not closely confined?”

“All chained in alcoves?” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Not at all,” he said. “And even paga girls are often permitted the freedom of the city when not in service, though sometimes they must carry advertising on their tunics.”

“I thought you did not like advertising,” she laughed.

“I dislike false advertising,” he said. “I see no objection to putting the name of an establishment on a girl's tunic, particularly if the girl is pretty and nicely figured. One of the tavern's delights is right there then, honestly presented, for the perusal of the potential patron. There are, of course, differences in status amongst slaves. For example, girls with private masters, even state slaves, commonly hold themselves superior to paga girls. And some slaves are high slaves, richly gowned, and jeweled, and so on. Sometimes it seems they hold themselves above even free men, though not, of course, free women. They are not so stupid. But, in the end, they are still slaves.”

“I see,” she said.

“Of course,” he said, “I should mention that the paga slaves, if they are not back by the ringing of the appointed bar, will be whipped.”

“I understand,” she whispered.

“Slave girls are lovely,” he said. “They make their aesthetic contributions to our world. Their existence much improves the decor of a city, the attractions of the street, of the parks and fountains, the appeal of a market, such things. On Earth one misses them, at least in public, but then on Earth one misses many things.”

“Doubtless it is like beautiful dogs, or beautiful horses,” she said.

“But better,” he said. “What virile man would choose to live in a world without female slaves?”

“And what slave,” she whispered, “would choose to live in a world without masters?”

“It is nearly dawn,” he said.

The paga tavern had been quiet beyond the curtain for more than an Ahn.

“Am I to be slain?” she asked.

“It will be decided by the taverner,” he said. “He will allow you to rest until evening, and then he will permit you to serve him.”

“I do not find him attractive,” she said.

“How will you serve him?” he asked.

I will kneel to him. I will press my lips to his feet, and cover them with tears and kisses. I will plead that I may serve his pleasure as the most eager and abject of slaves!”

“Then you will no longer think of yourself as free?” he said.

“No,” she said, “only as the slave I am, and now know myself well to be.”

“And are you more than a slave?” he asked.

“No, Master,' she said. “I am a slave, and only a slave.”

“And will you be responsive to his touch?”

“As I now am, Master,” she said, “as you have made me, I cannot resist the touch of a man, any man, nor do I wish to do so. I need these things, these feelings, even if the master despised me, and was cruel to me.”

“The taverner,” he said, “is a good man, neither contemptuous of his girls, though he recognizes them as mere slaves, nor more cruel or harsh, or perhaps better, firm, than is necessary to maintain the parameters of a perfect discipline.”

“He is strict then?”

“Certainly,” he said. “You will be kept under absolute and categorical discipline.”

“I want that,” she said. “I need it. I now hunger for it.”

“If you are in the least bit displeasing, you must expect to be lashed.”

“I do not want to be lashed,” she said. “But I love knowing that I will be lashed if I am not pleasing.”

“And perhaps sometime,” he said, “you will relish a stroke, if only to remind you, and keenly, that you are a slave.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes!”

“And when he is done with you?”

“I shall tell him how much I hoped to please him, my master, and, kneeling, head down, thank him, abjectly and piteously, with heartfelt gratitude, for the honor he has shown me, deigning to take one who is only a slave in his arms.”

“Good,” he said.

We then heard, from somewhere outside, the cry of a tarn, welcoming the sun, rising over the walls of the city.

“It is dawn,” he said.

“Hold me,” she wept. “Stay. Tarry. Do not release me yet!”

“I must be on my way,” he said.

“Let me please you again!” she said.

“How?” he smiled. The oil in the tiny lamp was almost exhausted.

“As what I am,” she said, “as a slave, a slave!”

“Very well,” he said.

He drew away from her. She reached out for him.

“Position, slut,” he snapped.

Instantly she went to position.

“You will leave me here, as I am, chained?' she said.

“An attendant will be here shortly,” he said. “And you will be freed, and conducted to your cage.”

“Yes, Master,” she said. “Master!”

“Yes?”

“May I confess something to you?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I have known for a long time,” she said, “even from years ago, on Earth, though I have never admitted it to anyone, until now—that men were my masters.”

He regarded her.

“All women, in their hearts,” she said, “know that men are, and should be, their masters.” She looked up at him. “And on Gor,” she said, “they are our masters.”

“There are free women on Gor,” he said.

“Only uncollared slaves,” she whispered, “women who have not yet met their masters.”

“Perhaps,” he said.

He drew on his tunic, and belted it.

“May I inquire your name, Master?” she said, tears in her eyes.

“No,” he said.

“I do not even have a name,” she said. “They have not given me one.”

When one becomes a slave, of course, one's name as a free person is gone. One is then an animal, and animals have no names, not in their own right. They may, of course, be named, and usually are, as is not unusual with animals, particularly pretty animals. The name then, of course, is a slave name, and may be altered, or replaced, or taken away, as the owner wishes.

“You were not given a name,” he said, “because it was not clear that you would be kept.”

“You know my master?”

“Yes, I have had dealings with him.”

“He asked you to see me,” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Will I—will I be permitted to live?”

“Your master will decide,” he said. “But I think so, now.”

“I think you have saved my life,” she said.

“Rather,” said he, “if anything, I have helped you to save your own life.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was done when you decided you wanted to live,” he said.

“I do want to live!” she said. “Never have I so keenly, so much, wanted to live! And I want to live as what I am, and only am, a slave! It is what I am, and what I want to be! How terrible to be a slave and not be permitted to fulfill one's deepest desires, one's nature, one's bondage! I want to love and serve a man, abjectly and selflessly, with my whole heart and soul, and with the fullness of my being. I want to be owned, and be loved. I want to be obedient and pleasing! I want to be collared and subject to my master's whip! These things were denied to me on Earth, but here I have been rightfully embonded, and here, given no choice whatsoever in the matter, I have found myself become the slave I always was.”

He considered her.

She was quite beautiful.

“But now,” she said, “for all to see and know!”

This was true. She was now legally, explicitly, and publicly a slave. Nothing could be hidden any longer. All would now see her as such. She was branded. She would be put in a collar. She would have distinctive garments, unthinkable for a free woman. There would be no mistaking such things now. She was now totally different from what she had been; she could now be bought and sold, bargained for, and traded for. She was now no more than a lovely domestic animal. One could make offers to her master for her.

“I feel so free,” she said.

“Free?” he smiled.

“In a sense,” she laughed. “I feel now I am whole. I am no longer divided. I am no longer in conflict with myself. I have found myself, and where I most feared to search. I knew I was there, but I had been told not to look there, that I must never look there, not there, for there I might find myself! But now I have found myself! No longer now do I need to live a lie. I am no longer a hypocrite. I can now be myself, as I want to be, as I should be, in a man's collar!”

“An abject and shameful slave?” he smiled.

“Yes,” she said, “and defiantly so, and gloriously so! I will kiss my fingers and press them to my collar! It is a form of life I desire! It is to be treasured, and sought! I want to kneel, and obey, and please! I want to love and serve. I want a master, a master! Can a free woman even understand that?”

“I think so,” he smiled.

“I hope their collars are waiting for them!” she said.

“Perhaps,” he said.

He began to untie the straps on the curtains.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

“I do not think so,” he said.

She leaned forward, and tears streamed down her face. He was pleased to see that she did not break position. He would have had to apply the switch to her, had she done so.

He parted the curtains.

One could see the interior of the tavern beyond them, the tables, the hanging lamps, now extinguished, the dancing place.

He looked down upon her.

“I think you will be given a name,” he said.

“Have I seen you before?” she begged.

“I do not think so,” he said.

“But you have seen me before?”

“Yes.”

“On Earth?”

“Yes,” he said. “I saw you several times, on the streets, in restaurants, in your apartment while you slept, I even turning down the covers to better examine your figure, then carefully replacing the covers. I saw you even in the advertising agency, to note how you related to your fellow workers.”

“You were thorough,” she smiled.

“We are,” he said. “It is our business.”

“And you decided that I was to be brought here?”

“Yes,” he said, “unbeknownst to yourself, you, with others, were entered into the manifests and schedules, your cargoing dates arranged, and so on.”

She shuddered. “I knew nothing of this,” she said. “I suspected nothing.”

“Few do,” he said. “I think that is best. Most do not understand what has happened to them until they awaken on Gor, stripped and chained.”

“That is how it was with me,” she smiled. “I wonder if you arrogant, dominant male beasts can understand what it is to so awaken.”

“If we could not,” he said, “we would not have you so awaken.”

“I see,” she said.

“It is good for you,” he said, “to find yourself stripped and helpless. It is an excellent introduction to your new reality.”

“And then,” she said, “a stroke or two of the whip!”

“Such can be helpful, as well,” he said. “Do you recall kissing the whip then?”

“Of course,” she said, “several times, as I was commanded, and I must, too, thank it plenteously for its stroke, and speak of it repeatedly as ‘dear, sweet, beautiful whip'! Then I must lick and kiss the feet of my keeper and thank him for his attentions to one so unworthy as I, for his deigning to attempt to inform, instruct, and improve me.”

“Some, of course,” he said, “suspect, from some cue or other, perhaps from a careless expression on a man's face, perhaps the glimpse of an ill-concealed master's regard, terrifying to a prey female, but most of these dismiss their fears, however extreme or unsettling, as irrational, as absurd, even preposterous. Later, chained, being vended nude, they realize they were perhaps somewhat hasty in dismissing their apprehensions, that their fears were not as
outré
as they believed. Some others, but very few, act on their fears and try to flee, stupid little beasts, but our surveillance is thorough, and there is no escape for them. They, as the others, will eventually wear the identificatory anklet. It has been decided for them. The pursuits are sometimes amusing, particularly when some of the scurrying, curvaceous little beasts think there may actually be an escape for them.”

“I wore such an anklet?”

“Yes,” he said. “Numbers on them correlate with our records. Indications are pertinent to different dealers, markets, buyers, and such. They are removed shortly after landing, usually while the merchandise is still unconscious, basic distributions having then been made.”

“I was totally unaware.” she said.

“That is the usual thing,” he said. “Very few suspect, only one, I suppose, in, say, two or three hundred.”

“When did you decide on me?” she asked.

“It was one afternoon at the advertising agency,” he said. “I observed you haughtily dismissing a young man's invitation, for a luncheon date, as I recall, and there was something about your expression, and the way you turned your body that left him quite abashed. I decided then it might be pleasant to take you to Gor.”