belly.
“Aii!†said Marcus.
Her master seized her from the circle then and hurried her from the light, her
head down, held by the hair, at his left hip. This is a common leading position
for female slaves being conducted short distances. As the master holds her hair
in the left hand, it leaves his right hand, commonly the sword hand, free.
Another woman was thrust into the circle.
I thought the blonde had very successfully managed to divert her master’s wrath,
assuming that was what she was up to. The only whip she need fear now, muchly,
at any rate, would seem to be the “whip of the furs.†To be sure, she might be
given a stroke or two, if only to remind her that she was a slave.
“Look,†said Marcus, interested.
I saw that the girl with the sign about her neck had taken a leaf from the book
of the blonde, and cunningly, too. She, too, was now on her knees, advertising
her charms, attesting mutely to the joys and delicacies that would be attendant
upon her (pg. 47) ownership. I saw her owner look at her, startled. She, of
course, did not now see him. I gathered he had never seen her in just this
fashion or way before, her silk parted, writhing on her knees, kissing, lifting
her hands, her head moving, her hair flung about. “I will buy her!†called a
fellow. “How much do you want?†inquired another, eagerly. Her master rushed
into the circle. “Close your silk, lascivious slut!†he ordered her. Swiftly she
clutched the silk about her, startled, confused, kneeling small before him. He
looked about, angrily. He jerked her by one arm to her feet. She struggled to
keep her silk closed with the other hand. “She is not for sale!†he said. He
then drew her rapidly from the light, into the darkness outside the circle. We
heard a tearing of silk. There was much laughter.
“He did not know what he owned!†laughed a man.
“No!†agreed another.
I guessed that the possession of such a wench might not, after all, even in my
situation, have been too burdensome. After all, one could always have gotten a
great deal of good out of her, and a great deal of work. On the other hand, she
was no longer for sale.
“I can do that, Master,†said Phoebe.
“Nonsense,†said Marcus.
“I can!†she said.
Marcus and I watched the women in the circle. I think perhaps about two Ihn
passed. Perhaps one might have wiped one’s nose, quickly, in the interval.
“Well,†said Marcus, wearily, “it is getting late.â€
“It is still early, Master,†said Phoebe.
“I think that I shall return to the tent,†said Marcus.
“A good idea,†I said. “But I think, I shall dally a bit outside.â€
“Oh?†said Marcus, concerned, but, I think, not excessively disappointed.
“Yes,†I said.
“Perhaps we will return to the tent now,†said Marcus to Phoebe.
“As Master wishes,†she said, lightly. I thought she had carried that off rather
well.
“I thought you wished to return to the tent,†said Marcus.
“I am a slave,†she said. “I must obey my master.â€
“Do you not want my touch?†asked Marcus.
“I am a slave,†she said. “I must submit to the will of my master.â€
“I see,†said Marcus.
Phoebe moved her lovely little head in the leash and collar, (pg. 48) and looked
off into the distance. “I am at your disposal,†she said.
“I am well aware of that,†said Marcus.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
Phoebe’s mistake, of course, was to look away. In this fashion she did not
anticipate Marcus’ touch. Too, it was firm, uncompromising, and not soon
released. “Ohh!†she cried.
Marcus regarded her.
She, eyes wide, looked at him, startled, reproachfully, unbelievingly. She was
half bent over. The leash dangled down from her collar.
She then began to tremble. Her small wrists pulled at the binding fiber,
pinioning her hands behind her. Then, not even daring to move, she stood, partly
bent from the waist, before him.
“Please,†she whispered. “Please, my Master!â€
“Perhaps you can move interestingly on your knees?†he said.
“Yes!†she said. “Anything! Anything!â€
“And on your back and stomach?†he asked.
“Yes!†she said.
“And your sides?†he asked.
“Yes!†she said.
“Perhaps you desire to do these things,†he said.
“Yes!†she said. “Yes!â€
“Perhaps you will be bound,†he said.
“Yes, Master!†she said. “Bind me!â€
It is common to bind slave girls.
“Do you have any petitions, any supplications?†inquired Marcus.
“Take me to the tent!†she begged. “Take me to the tent!â€
He regarded her.
“I beg your touch, my Master!†she gasped.
“Oh?†he said.
“I beg it! I beg it, my Master,†she wept.
“Slut of Cos!†snarled Marcus suddenly.
“Your slave, only your slave, Master!†she wept.
He then, angrily, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, her head to the
rear. It is in this fashion that slaves are commonly carried. I saw her eyes for
a moment, wild, but frightened, and grateful. Then he had sped with her from the
place.
“A hot little vulo,†said a man.
“Quite so,†said a man.
“She could light a fire,†said another.
(pg. 49) “I wonder what he wants for her,†said another.
“I do not think she if for sale,†I said.
We then returned our attention to the dancing circle. New women entered it upon
occasion, as others were withdrawn. There were now some ten to fifteen slaves in
the circle. How beautiful women are!
“How disgusting,†said a free woman, nearby. I had not noticed her standing
there until now.
“Begone, slut!†said a peasant.
The free woman gasped, and hurried away. Peasants are not always tolerant of
gentlewomen. To be sure, they do not always object to them when they come into
their possession, as, say, they might after the fall of a city, or if one, say,
has been captured and deliberately sold to them, perhaps by some male
acquaintance, for one reason or another. Indeed I suspect the hardy fellows upon
occasion rather enjoy owning such elegant women, women who are likely in their
loftiness to have hitherto disparaged or despised their caste. It is pleasant to
have them in ropes, naked at their feet. Sometimes they are asked if they
rejoice to now be owned by peasants. If they respond negatively they are beaten.
If they respond affirmatively they are also beaten, for lying. Quickly then will
the women be taught the varied la
bors and services of the farm. Interestingly
these women, under the domination of their powerful masters, often become
excellent farm slaves. Sometimes they are even permitted to sleep in the hut, at
their master’s feet.
“That is an excellent dancer there,†said a fellow.
“Yes,†I said.
“I think she has auburn hair,†said another fellow. It was difficult to tell in
the light.
“Yes,†said another.
Auburn hair is highly prized in the slave markets. I recalled the slave,
Temione, now, as I understood it, a property of Borton, a courier for
Artemidorus of Cos. Her hair was a marvelous auburn. Too, by now, it would have
muchly grown out, after having been shaved off some months ago, for catapult
cordage.
I noted that the free female had gone a bit about the outside of the circle, and
now stood there, back a bit from the circle, where there was a space between
some men. From that position of vantage she continued to watch the dancers. This
puzzled me. If she found such beauty, such sensuous liberation, such fulfilling
joy, such reality, such honesty, the marvelousness of owned women before their
masters, offensive or deplorable, why did she watch? What did she see there in
the circle, I wondered. {pg. 50) What so drew her there, what so fascinated here
there? Like most free women she was perhaps inhibited, frustrated and unhappy.
She continued to gaze into the circle. perhaps she saw herself there, clad in a
rag and collar, if that, moving, turning with the others, like them so
beautiful, so much alive, so vulnerable, so helpless, so owned. Does her master
lift his whip? She must then redouble her efforts to please, lest she be lashed.
I supposed that she, even there, standing so seemingly still, pretending to be a
mere observer, could feel the dance in her body, in its myriad incipient
movements, tiny movements in her legs, in her belly, in her body, in herself, in
the wholeness of her womanhood. Perhaps she wished for her robes to be torn off
and to be collared, and to be thrust, in her turn, into the circle. I did not
doubt but what she would be zealous to please. Indeed, she had best be! But how
strange that she, a free woman, would even linger in this place. Perhaps free
women are incomprehensible. A Gorean saying came to mind, that the free woman is
a riddle, the answer to which is the collar.
“Away!†called a fellow, who had turned about and seen the free woman. he waved
his arm, angrily, “Away!†he said. The free woman then turned about and left the
vicinity of the circle, hurriedly. I felt rather sorry for her, but then, I
thought, surely the fellow was right, that the circle, or its vicinity, was no
place for a free female. It was a place, rather, for the joy of masters and
their slaves. Similarly, the vicinity of such places, though I did not think it
would be so in this camp, at this particular time, can be dangerous for free
women. For example, sometimes free women attempt, sometimes even disguising
themselves, to spy on the doings of masters and slaves. For example, they might
attempt, perhaps disguised as lads, to gain entrance to paga taverns. And often
such entrance is granted them but later, to their horror, they may find
themselves thrown naked to the dancing sand and forced to perform under whips.
Similarly if they attempt to enter such establishments as pretended slaves they
may find themselves leaving by the back entrance, soon to become true slaves. In
many cities, such actions, attempting to spy on masters and slaves, disguising
oneself as a slave, garbing oneself as a slave, even in the supposed secrecy of
one’s own compartments, lingering about slave shelves and markets, even
exhibiting an interest in, or fascination with, bondage, can result in a
reduction to bondage. The theory is apparently that such actions and interests
are those of a slave, and that the female who exhibits them should, accordingly,
be imbonded.
I noted a fellow approaching the circle, who had behind him, heeling him, an
unusual lovely slave.
(pg. 51) “Teibar!†called more than one man. “Teibar!â€
I have, more than once, I believe, alluded to the hatred of free women for their
imbonded sisters, and to how they profess to despise them and hold them in
contempt. Indeed, they commonly treat such slaves with what seems to be
irrational and unwonted cruelty. This is particularly the case if the slave is
beautiful, and of great interest to men. I have also suggested that this
attitude of the free female toward the slave seems to be motivated,
paradoxically enough, by envy and jealousy. In any event, slave girls fear free
women greatly, as they, being mere slaves, are much at their mercy. Once in Ar,
several years ago, several free women, in their anger at slaves, and perhaps
jealous of the pleasures of masters and slaves, entered a paga tavern with clubs
and axes, seeking to destroy it. This is, I believe, and example, though a
rather extreme one, of a not unprecedented sort of psychological reaction, the
attempt, by disparagement or action, motivated by envy, jealousy, resentment, or
such, to keep from others pleasures which one oneself is unable, or unwilling,
to enjoy. In any event, as a historical note, the men in the tavern, being
Gorean, and thus not being inhibited or confused by negativistic, antibiological
traditions, quickly disarmed the women. They then stripped them, bound their
hands behind their back, put them of a neck rope, and, by means of switches,
conducted them swiftly outside the tavern. The women were then, outside the
tavern, on the bridge of twenty lanterns, forced to witness the burning of their
garments. They were then permitted to leave, though still bound and in coffle.
Gorean men do not surrender their birthright as males, their rightful dominance,
their appropriate mastery. They do not choose to be dictated to by females. The
most interesting portion of this story is its epilogue. In two or three steps
the women returned, mostly now barefoot, and many clad now humbly in low-caste
garments. Some had even wrapped necklaces or beads about their left ankle. They
begged permission to serve in the tavern in servile capacities, such as sweeping
and cleaning. This was granted to them. At first the slaves were terrified of
them but then, when it became clear that the women were not only truly serving
humbly, as serving females, but that they now looked timidly up to the slaves,
and desired to learn from them how to be women, and scarcely dared to aspire to
their status, the fears of the slaves subsided, at least to a degree. Indeed, it
was almost as though each of them, though perhaps a low girl in the tavern
rosters, and much subject to the whip, had become “first girl†to some free
woman or other, a rare turnabout in the lives of such collared wenches. Needless
(pg. 52) to say, in time, the free women, learning the suitable roles and
lessons of womanhood, for which they had genetic predispositions, and aided by
their lovely tutors, were permitted to petition for the collar. It was granted
to the
m. It seems that his was what they had wanted all the time, though on a
level not fully comprehensible to them at the beginning. One does not know what
has become of them for, in time, as one might expect, they being of Ar, they
were shipped out of the city, to be disposed of in various remote markets.
“Greetings, Teibar!†called a fellow.
“Hail, Teibar!†called another.
From the latter manner of greeting, I gathered this Teibar might be excellent
with the staff, or sword. Such greetings are usually reserved for recognized
experts, or champions, at one thing or another. For example, a skilled Kaissa
player is sometimes greeted in such a manner. I studied Teibar. I would have
suspected his expertise to be with the sword.
“His Tuka is with him,†said a fellow.
“Tuka, Tuka!†called another, rhythmically.
‘Tuka’ is common slave name on Gor. I have known several slaves with that name.
The girl who had come with Teibar, Tuka, I supposed, now knelt at his side, her
back straight, her head down. Her collar, like most female slave collars,
particularly in the northern hemisphere, was close fitting. There would be no
slipping it. I had no doubt that this Teibar was the sort of fellow who would
hold his slave, or slaves, in perfect discipline.
“Tuka, Tuka!†called another fellow.
“She is extremely pretty,†I said.
“She knows something of slave dance,†said a fellow, licking his lips.
“Oh?†I said.
“Yes,†he said.
“Tuka, Tuka, Tuka!†called more men.
The fellow, Teibar, looked down at his slave, who looked up at him, and quickly,
timidly, kisses at his thigh. How much she was his, I thought.
“Tuka, to the circle!†called a fellow.
“She is a dancer,†said a man.
“She is extraordinary,†said another.
“Put Tuka in the circle!†called a fellow.
“Tuka, Tuka!†called another.
Teibar snapped his fingers once, sharply, and the slave leaped to her feet,
standing erect, her head down, turned to the right, her hands at her sides, the
palms facing backward. She might (pg. 53) have been in a paga tavern, preparing
to enter upon the sand or floor. I considered Teibar’s Tuka. She had an
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