Renegades of Gor (7 page)

might redeem you and making clear the inn’s disapproval of attempted fraud,

namely, that you might serve as a warning to other free women, women who might

otherwise have been tempted try similar tricks.”

“If we are not redeemed, what will be done with us?” wailed the fourth girl.

“Surely you can guess,” I said.

“No! No! No!” she cried, in misery.

“Redeem me!” begged the fifth girl. “I will make it worth your while, handsome

fellow.”

“Slave!” cried the first woman, angrily, to the fifth woman.

“Slave! Slave!” said, too, the second woman to the fifth.

“Come now,” I said to the first and second woman, “she is not a slave—yet.’

“Yet!” cried the fourth woman.

Too, I was amused that the first and second woman seemed to think that slaves

might bargain. They had a typical free woman’s misconception of what was

involved in total female slavery. The slave is owned. She does not bargain. She

owes all to the master, and gives all to the master. She strives to be fully

pleasing, in all ways, and hopes desperately that she will prove so. Perhaps

they would learn that sometime.

“I am not like these other women,” said the first woman, suddenly. “Redeem me!

Some women, such as these, doubtless, have made a way of life of what you refer

to as tricks. I (pg. 45) have not! This is the first time I have ever had

recourse to such fraud!”

The other women cried out angrily in their chains.

“Once is enough,” I told the first woman.

“It costs only forty tarsks to redeem me!” she said.

“You would probably bring more than that in a slave market,” I said.

“Please!” she wept.

“I would cost only twenty-seven tarsks to redeem!” called the fourth girl.

“Redeem me,” said the second woman. “I am of high caste. Consider the glory of

redeeming a woman of high caste!”

“The slave,” I said, “has no caste, no more than a verr or tarsk.”

The woman cried out in misery, helpless in the shackles.

“I am shapely, and blond,” said the third woman, suddenly. “Redeem me!”

“Slave!” chided the fifth woman.

“Slave!” retorted the third.

“I do not want to be a slave!” cried the first woman.

“Obviously you are not a slave,” I said, “for you have no wish to be pleasing.”

“I have slave needs, I confess it!” cried the fifth woman.

“I find that of interest,” I said.

“I, too, have slave needs!” cried the fourth woman.

I had not doubted that. There was something about her body, which seemed

lusciously slavelike.

“I, too!” suddenly wept the third woman. I regarded her. I thought she would

indeed move well in a man’s bonds.

“But I do want to be pleasing!” said the first woman.

I looked at her.

“Do not consider her,” said the second woman. “Redeem me! I, too, have slave

needs! I confess it! I have slave needs!”

“I, too, have slave needs!” suddenly cried the first woman.

“You?” I asked, as though skeptically.

“Yes!” she wept. “Yes!”

The first time I had laid eyes on her, of course, I had seen that she was born

for silk.

(pg.46)”Let me kiss you!” cried the fifth woman.

The others gasped in astonishment, in anger, in protest, in indignation, in

outrage, at her boldness.

“Taste me,” called the fifth woman, enticingly.

“Slut! Slut!” cried the other women.

It had been a slave’s invitation. I wondered where the free woman had heard it.

Not all free women are as ignorant as many men believe. There had been many

indications that the fifth woman’s slavery was very close to the surface. To be

sure, she may have often fought it. I did not know.

“The eager lips of a free woman await you,” called the fifth woman.

I went to stand before the fifth woman and she, pulling at her chains, leaning

forward, tried to reach me. I stood there for a moment, she straining toward me,

I regarding her, thinking. She looked at me. I now let her wonder, now that she

had made her bold overture, if I would choose to accept it. Perhaps, now, to her

shame, to her humiliation, before her sisters in custody, her revelatory,

astonishing, compromising advance would be rejected. Perhaps, even, she might be

cuffed, or mocked. I saw fear in her eyes. So I took her in my arms and put my

lips to hers. It began as a free woman’s kiss but, as I held her, and pressed

her to me, and she then pressed herself to me, it ended as a kiss which, though

doubtless still that of a free woman, hinted at unmistakable latencies within

her, that she might, under suitable conditions of helplessness and submission,

and perhaps proper training, be capable of at least the nearest reaches of the

kisses of slaves.

I released her, and she looked at me, shaken. She grasped the chains above the

manacles tightly. Then she recovered herself. She released the chains above the

manacles and her small hands now appeared as they had before, the clasping iron

of the upper part of the shackles close below the fleshy part of her palms,

below the thumbs, and at the sides of the hands. She squirmed a little. “Redeem

me,” she said, slyly.

“Taste me!” said the lovely, slighter girl, who was fourth, who had seemed

perhaps the quieter of the five. I thought she might go the gentlest, and the

most willingly, and the most gratefully, to her chains.

“Slut!” cried the third woman.

(pg.47) I then kissed her.

I saw that she would make a superb slave.

“Do you not wish to be redeemed?” I asked her.

“Yes!” she said suddenly. “Yes, of course!” But I saw she would never be truly

happy, except where she belonged, in a collar.

“Me!” said the third woman, suddenly. “Kiss me, too! Taste me, too!” I gathered

that she, too, did not wish to be left out in these competitions. She did not

wish to miss her opportunity to see if she might, by the bestowal of her favors,

and the promise of such favors, as well, please me, and, by enticement or

trickery, inveigle me into purchasing her redemption. I also saw, from her

behavior and attitude, that she regarded herself as the most beautiful of the

five, and the most likely to succeed in any such contest. Accordingly I gave her

little time but merely took her in my arms and unilaterally, forcibly, briefly,

crushed her lips beneath mine, and then flung her back against the logs. She

looked at me wildly, disbelievingly. Was she not blond? But she would have to

learn to please men.

I then stood back, and regarded the three women.

“You have not tasted me,” said the second woman. I think she feared I was

pondering a choice among the other there.

I kissed her. I would have to admit it, women kiss well in shackles, even free

women. She looked at me. Then, she, too, recovered herself. “Though I am of high

caste,” she said, “I have permitted you to kiss me, and not merely upon a sleeve

or gloved hand, but wholly upon my lips, and not even through a veil, no, upon

my exposed and naked lips themselves, unveiled, almost as though I might be a

slave! Therefore, in return for this inestimable gift, it is I whom you must now

in honor redeem.”

“You are a female,” I said, “and such are made for the kisses of men.”

“I am of high caste!” she said.

“Perhaps—now,” I said. Slaves, of course, are casteless, as are other animals.

No longer is one woman divided from another by artificial distinctions. In this

sense there is a democracy of slaves. They all begin the same, regardless of

previous distinctions, such as position or wealth. They all begin at the same

point, as naked women, branded and (pg.48) collared, who must then strive with

one another to see who can be most pleasing to masters.

She looked at me in fury.

“Unfortunately,” I said, “ I do not have a slave whip with me.”

“You would beat me?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said.

She shrank back against the logs.

I thought she would look well, in her curves, crawling at the feet of men,

reduced to the centrality of her womanhood, the female slave.

I then regarded the four women whose lips I had tasted. Each had, in a sense,

though free, prostituted herself to me, that she might thereby influence me to

rescue her from her clear and obvious plight, that of a debtor slut. Each was

willing to bestow her favors in order to obtain her redemption. These were

women, I had gathered, who had made a practice of relying upon the generosity

and nobility of men, or of some men, to obtain their way in life, in a sense

resorting frequently to types of female fraud, regularly exploiting and, in a

sense, making dupes of men. Doubtless they had, at least until now,

congratulated themselves on their success in such matters. Now, however, they

were chained to a log wall in an inn’s court. Frightened now, it seemed that

they, even though free, were ready to escalate the level of their artifices.

Perhaps in more normal times, perhaps even while they were still fully clothed,

and veiled, they might have found eager fellows to make good their bills,

perhaps at the first sign of distress, even the moistening of an eye. These,

however, were not normal times. I considered the four women. They had requested

to be tastes, as slaves. One had even begged explicitly, as I had seen to it she

would, she who reputed herself to be of high caste. That had amused me. Only the

first woman had not so demeaned herself. She, of all of them, was different.

I heard the small sound of her shackle chains on the ring. “I beg to be tasted,”

she said.

I looked upon her.

I saw that she was beautiful, and not different from the rest. She, too, was

only a slave.

“I beg it,” she said.

(pg.49) I regarded her.

“Are you disappointed in me?” she asked.

“If you were a free woman, perhaps,” I said, “but not if you are a slave.”

Even in the apparently freest of women, of course, there is a slave who waits

for her master. There is a Gorean saying to the effect that among women there

are only slaves who have masters and slaves who do not have masters. Some men

fear the slave in a woman; others provide it with the mastering it longs for,

and needs.

“Please,” she said.

“Who begs to be tasted?” I asked.

“The Lady Amina of Venna begs to be tasted,” she said.

Her sisters at the wall gasped at her boldness, that she should use her own name

in this fashion, rather as might a slave.

She looked at me.

She could not pull far from the wall because of her shackles. If she were to be

kissed, it would be at my discretion.

“Lady Amina begs it,” she said.

She was a free woman. Yet I saw that she was well curved, and would nestle well

within the arms of a master.

“Please,” she said.

I went to her and took her in my arms. I drew her toward me, from the wall. The

shackle chain moved in the ring. Because of the chaining she was bent back. I

looked upon her. Though she was free she, like the others, was neither clothed

nor veiled. Thus, though she was a free woman, her lips were open to me, naked

to me, exposed, in the manner of the slave. She looked up at me, those lovely,

vulnerable lips parted. She felt slave good in my arms. I kissed her.

“Oh!” she said, softly, as I drew back.

I had made the determination in which I was interested. She belonged in a

collar.

I against considered them. They were all beautiful, stripped, and shackled close

to the wall. They had all, it seemed, more or less recently, chosen to live

dangerously. But perhaps they had chosen to live a little too dangerously. I

thought they might all look well on a slave block.

But I proceeded under the overhang to the open space between the two parts of

the inn, the covered way there, with (pg.50) its high roof, that which it shared

with the two parts of the inn, and then across it, to the right portion of the

inn, in which the porter had informed me was the keeper’s desk. In this covered

way, too, it might be mentioned, passengers, with some protection from the

weather, may board and alight from fee carts, and such. It was late. It was not

raining much now. The night had turned chilly, however. I was looking forward to

a hot bath, a place to dry my clothes, some food, some drink, a warm bed.

“Please!” I heard the first woman calling after me. “Please!” But I left them

behind me, at the wall, stripped and shackled, and tasted.

3
     
The Inn

(pg.51) I struck the keeper’s desk twice.

Behind the desk, on the wall, there was posted a list of prices. They were quite

high. I did not think that those were normal prices. If they were, I did not see

how the inn could manage to be competitive.

I struck the keeper’s desk twice more.

There was a tharlarion oil lamp hanging on three chains from the ceiling, to my

right, above the desk.

Sample items from the list were as follows:

           
Bread and paga…………………………………………………….2 C.T.

           
Other food……………………………………………………...3 – 5 C.T.

           
Lodging……………………………………………………………10 C.T.

           
Blanket(s)……………………………………………………………2 C.T.

           
Bath………………………………………………………………….1 C.T.