Norman, John - Gor 25 - Magicians of Gor.txt

by Magicians of Gor [lit]

  “Lavinia,” she said.

  “That seems rather a fine name for a slave,” I said, “particularly for a field

  slave.”

  “It was my name as a free woman,” she said.

  “Then it is a different name now,” I said, “put on you as a slave name.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Stand, Lavinia, slave,” I said, “and turn slowly about, and then resume your

  present position.”

  She obeyed.

  “You have good legs,” I said.

  She did not speak. Her legs were a bit short, but excellent, rather like those

  of the girl we had seen earlier. Such legs are excellent for slave dance.

  “I suspect you were once a rich free woman,” I said. That seemed to me likely.

  Surely only such would have been likely to have managed a tryst with the famous,

  handsome Milo. She did not know, of course, that I had witnessed her netting,

  and taking.

  (pg. 303) She looked up at me, puzzled. “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “But you are not rich now,” I said.

  “No, Master,” she said, putting her head down. Now she would not own even the

  rag she wore, or her collar. Such things, as simple as they were, were, like

  herself, the property of her master.

  “How came you to be a slave?” I asked.

  She looked up, her eyes clouded. She bit her lip.

  “Consider your reply carefully,” I said.

  “I was taken to the levies,” she said.

  “You have earned yourself discipline,” I said.

  “Please, no!” she cried. “Have pity on me! I am only a poor slave!”

  “Do you think it is permissible for you to lie to a free man?” I asked.

  “No, Master!” she said. She put down her head, her head in her hands, and

  sobbed.

  “Your reticence is interesting,” I said. “The matter is doubtless entered in

  your papers.”

  “Yes, Master,” she sobbed.

  “Speak, girl,” I said.

  “I was taken pursuant to the couching laws,” she said.

  “I see,” I said. Any free woman who voluntarily couches with another’s salve, or

  readies herself to do so, becomes the slave of the slave’s master. By such an

  act, the couching with, or readying herself to couch with, a slave, as though

  she might be a girl of the slave’s master, thrown to the slave, she shows

  herself as no more than a slave, and in this act, in law, becomes a slave. Who

  then should own her, this new slave? Why, of course, he to whom the law consigns

  her, the master of the slave with whom she has couched, or was preparing to

  couch.

  (pg. 304) “With what slave,” asked I, “did you couch?”

  “I was only preparing to couch!” she said.

  “But that is sufficient.” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  It seemed then that the rich beauty had received very little of Milo, scarcely

  the least of his favors. Perhaps, however, for what it might have been worth,

  she might have managed to receive a woeful glance or two, or a kissing of her

  gloved fingers. It is hard to say. How proud she might have been that she, of

  all women, as far as she knew, had managed to attract the marvelous Milo! Then,

  when she had kept the tryst, entering into the assignation, and had stripped

  herself and knelt on the couch, eager, waiting, amorous, careless and

  adventurous, the net had fallen upon her. Shortly thereafter he neck was in the

  collar. She was, it seems, to have been denied the caresses of Milo. The slave’s

  master, and then hers, as well, Appanius, had decided it. It would be the coils

  of the slave net which would tighten upon her body, not the arms of the handsome

  bondsman. Perhaps this seemed fitting to Appanius, that the new slave, prior to

  her public imbonding, should be so served. Perhaps he found it amusing. Or

  perhaps he was jealous of his slave, and wished to reserve his caresses for

  himself. Or it could have been all three. One did not know.

  “What was the name of the slave?” I asked.

  “Milo,” she said.

  “The well-known Milo,” I asked, “the actor?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Did you not think he would have his pick of slaves in the house of Appanius?” I

  asked.

  “I did not know,” she said.

  “Beautiful slaves, silked for a man’s pleasure, perfumed for his delight, eager,

  needful, helplessly responsive, trained to please in a thousand modalities?”

  “I did not know,” she said.

  “Did you think to be able to compete with such women?”

  “I did not know!” she wept.

  “Do you invite further discipline?’ I asked.

  “I was free,” she said. “I thought that I was somehow special or better!”

  I smiled. Marcus laughed, and struck the side of his saddle twice, so amused he

  was.

  She looked up at us, angrily.

  “But you are not free now,” I said.

  “No, Master,” she said.

  “Do you still consider yourself better than slaves?” I asked.

  (pg. 205) “No, Master,” she said, “for I now, too, am only a slave.”

  “And only a field slave,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  Female work slaves, field slaves, stable slaves, and such, like kettle-and-mat

  girls, are usually considered the lowest of slaves. At any rate, they commonly

  bring the lowest prices in the markets.

  “You are now quite different from what you were as a free woman,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “But now that you are slave, even a field slave,” I said, “you are better

  prepared to compete with other slaves for the attention of a man than would be a

  free woman.”

  She looked up at me, puzzled.

  “You at least know what is your business with men,” I said, “to please them, and

  as a slave.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Your life could depend on it,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Do you doubt your attractiveness?” I asked.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Do not do so,” I said.

  “Master?” she asked.

  “You are beautiful,” I said, “or could be beautiful.”

  She was silent.

  “Consider yourself,” I said.

  She put her hands up to her cropped hair, and then touched the tiny, torn brown

  rag she wore, and then, again, put her head down, and placed her hands on her

  thighs.

  “Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?” I asked.

  “I have looked upon my reflection in water,” she said, “in the tank.”

  “You are interested in such things?” I said.

  She was silent.

  “Speak,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.


  “As are other slave girls,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “And what do you see in the water?”

  “A slave,” she said.

  “A field slave?” I asked.

  “A pleasure slave,” she said.

  “Ah!” laughed Marcus.

  “But yet you are in the fields,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  (pg. 306) “Do you think it strange that you, who were a free woman, should look

  upon your reflection, and see in it a pleasure slave?”

  “No, Master,” she said.

  “From your collaring,” I said, “you have seen in your reflection this pleasure

  slave?”

  “I have seen her there for years,” she said, “not just since my collaring.”

  “A bold confession,” I said.

  “I am a slave girl,” she said. “I must speak the truth.”

  “But once before, it seems, earlier, in the matter of how you came to be a

  slave, you did not speak the truth.”

  “No, Master.”

  “But it is your intention now to speak the truth?”

  “Yes, Master!”

  “Keep the angle between your knees,” I said.

  “Yes, Master!” she said. Once again then, she knelt suitably.

  “Is the pleasure slave whom you see in your reflection beautiful?” I asked.

  “It is my hope that she is,” she said.

  “She is,” I said.

  “Thank you,” she said, “—Master.”

  “Do you think you are the only women who has been brought into bondage by means

  of the attractions of Milo, the slave?” I asked.

  “No, Master,” she said. “Apparently there have been several others.”

  “Trapped dupes,” said Marcus.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Snared as easily as vulos,” he said,

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “As you were,” he said.

  “Yes, Master!” she said.

  “And doubtless there will be many more,” I said.

  She looked up, tears in her eyes. “Yes, Master,” she said. “Doubtless.”

  “Do you know of others?” I asked. “Say, in the fields?”

  “They were commonly sold out of the city,” she said. “But apparently that is

  more difficult now, with the Cosians in power. That is probably why I am here,

  in the vicinity of Ar. I know of none in the fields other than myself. There are

  two others, however, in the house.”

  “Then you have been in the house,” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said. “Only in the last few days have I been in the fields.”

  (pg. 307) This did not surprise me, as her mien had suggested to me earlier that

  she might be new to the onus of such labors. This was also suggested to me by

  the condition of her skin, which had not yet browned, darkening and toughening.

  “How did you get on with the other slaves in the house?” I asked.

  “The three of us who owed our collars to Milo hated one another,” she said. “The

  other slaves held all of us, recent free women, in contempt.”

  “Interesting,” I said.

  “We, too, now were only slaves, and inexperienced slaves,” she said.

  “True,” I said.

  “But they need not have been so cruel!” she said.

  “Perhaps you behaved around them as though you might still think of yourselves

  as free women,” I said.

  “We did that scarcely at all,” she said, “only a little at first, I think, and

  then we did not do it again, for they whipped us. After that, for the most part,

  they ignored us.”

  “They did not teach you their secrets then,” I said, “such things as how to

  please men?” There are hundreds of such things, of course, ranging from the

  dressing and care of the hair, the application of cosmetics, such as lipstick

  and eye shadow, commonly thought improper for free women, and the judicious

  selection of jewelry, silks and perfumes, to physical and psychological

  subtleties, both behaviors and techniques, which can drive a master almost out

  of his senses with pleasure, and all this by a female totally at his disposal,

  one whom he can command, as it pleases him, one who is legally and literally

  owned by him, and in every way.

  “They would not do so,” she said, “though we begged them!”

  “Did you put yourself as a slave before them?” I asked. “Did you weep and beg,

  kneeling before them and licking their feet? Did you make it clear to them that

  your entreaties were those of one like themselves, only another slave? Did you

  offer to work for them? Did you do so? Did you serve them, and wait upon them,

  on a lengthy probationary basis, as though you might be their own slave, that

  they might assess your earnestness, your sincerity and zeal?”

  “As a new slave, I too much feared them,” she said.

  “Perhaps it is just as well,” I said. “You might have been whipped.”

  “I think so, Master,” she said.

  “Perhaps, after a few months, after they had become used to (pg. 308) you as

  only another slave amongst them, no more or less, things might have been

  different.”

  “Perhaps, Master,” she said.

  “You seem to me a highly intelligent woman,” I said.

  “Master?” she asked.

  “Surely you were aware of the couching laws?”

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “You expected to violate them with impunity?”

  “I gather so, Master,” she said.

  “You did not expect to be betrayed, or discovered?”

  “I do not think so, Master,” she said.

  “And yet,” I said, “as a highly intelligent woman, you must have realized that

  some danger would be involved.”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “The matter is unclear to me now.”

  “That in itself is interesting,” I said.

  “Master?” she asked.

  “It seems you were very careless,” I said.

  “Perhaps, Master,” she said.

  “That seems to me very interesting,” I said.

  “Master?” she asked.

  “What was your first emotion,” I asked, “when the net descended upon you?”

  “It does not matter,” she said.

  “Surely you realized it was a slave net?”

  “A capture net of some sort,” she said.

  “What was that first emotion?” I asked.

  “It does not matter!” she said. “It was a momentary reaction, a sudden,

  fleeting, wild thing!”

  “What was it?” I asked.

  She looked up at me, agonized, miserable. She was quite lovely.

  “Keep your knees widely separated,” I reminded her.

  Again the whitish dust, a hort deep, was pushed to the sides, to bank against
>
  the outside of her knees.

  “Consider your reply carefully,” I said. “You have already incurred discipline.”

  “Elation!” she said.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Then I was terrified!” she said. “I realized what had happened! I was caught! I

  had been discovered! I was trapped! I was within the toils of a net! I burned

  with shame, with embarrassment. It seemed I was afire! I choked with misery! I

  was naked! Men were moving about! They could see me! What of my reputation? I

  struggled! I was afraid! I was angry! I was outraged! I was miserable! I had

  been betrayed! I was helpless! I fought the net! I fought the net! But I could

  not free myself!”

  (pg. 309) “And what later,” I asked, “in the edifice of the magistrates?”

  “I was in a cell,” she said, “naked, lying on some straw, chained by the neck to

  a wall.”

  “And your emotions?” I asked.

  She looked up at me.

  “My thigh was sore,” she said. “I had been branded.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “There were two collars on my neck,” she said, “a light, temporary collar,

  identifying me as a slave provisionally in the custody of magistrates, and, over

  it, a retaining collar, that by means of which I was fastened to the wall.”

  “Go on,” I said.

  “I felt the collars on my neck,” she said. “The temporary collar was flat and

  close-fitting. It was the first collar I had ever worn. It was put on me after

  my branding. The retaining collar, too, was close fitting, scarcely less so, it

  seemed, than the collar it covered. It was heavy and thick. The chain to it was

  heavy, too, with thick links. It was about four feet long, it was fastened to a

  stout ring in the wall, about a foot above the floor.”

  “And your emotions?” I asked.

  “I lay there,” she said, “my fingers on the chain, near the retaining collar.”

  I looked at her.

  “Serenity, contentment,” she said. “Happiness. The fighting was over.”

  “When did you receive the collar of Appanius?” I asked.

  “The next day,” she said, “affixed on me by one of his agents. Later I was

  called for at the edifice of the magistrates by one of his slaves, driving a

  tharlarion wagon. He tied my hands behind my back and put a rope on my neck, by