Witness of Gor

by John Norman

  "Yes," I said. Many of us were doubtless not expensive. I did not even know how expensive I might have been, had it not been for some special characteristics pertaining to me, in particular, my newness to the world, and my consequent ignorance, conjoined with an adeptness in the language unusual for so new a slave. To be sure, I was supposedly quite pretty, and I was certainly, sometimes to my chagrin, extremely helplessly sexually responsive. Such things, too, might have improved my price. I did not know, of course, what I had cost. I did not think I had come too cheaply, but, too, perhaps, my price had not been too dear. I really did not know.

  It had been conjectured, above, that I might easily be a "silver-tarsk girl," but I did not really understand what that might be. The "silver tarsk," I supposed, was a coin, and being a "silver-tarsk girl" would presumably mean that I might be expected to bring as much as a "silver tarsk" to whoever sold me, but all this was not that illuminating as I had no clear idea of the values involved. I had gathered, however, that it would be a good price for one such as I. And this price, I gathered, had much to do with what was coming to be in me, I feared, an easily aroused, quickly ignited, uncontrollable, unrestrainable passion. And my beauty, too, if beauty it was, I supposed, would not be likely to reduce my price either. I trust that the reader, if this ever finds a reader, or readers, will not be shocked by this sort of thing. Just as men will buy one animal for speed, perhaps for racing, and another for strength, perhaps for draft purposes, they will buy another for beauty and passion, for the purposes of their compartments and furs. To some extent this still disturbed me, but I recognized my helplessness in these matters. It was not only that I knew I must well please a master, and heatedly respond to him, if I did not wish to put my life in jeopardy, for I was owned, but that I could not have helped myself. Men had done this to me. I was now theirs. Let those who can understand these things understand them. Let those who cannot understand them not do so. What other choice have they?

  "And it did not matter," said she, "what his caste might be, assuming it was high, for I was of the Merchants, one of the highest of castes, there being none higher, I insist on that, saving perhaps that of the Initiates."

  I knew little or nothing of the Initiates, but I had heard that such as I were not allowed in their temples, lest we profane them. Normally, if our masters attended their services, we would be chained, or penned, outside, along with other animals.

  "So," said she, "whatever his caste, assuming it was high, of course, it would be practical for us to contemplate a companionship, and if his caste should be thought higher than mine, however mistakenly, I could, in such a relationship, be thought to raise caste. Why should I not, in virtue of my beauty, attain to the highest of castes, assuming the Merchants was not already regarded, correctly, of course, as such—yes, to the very highest of castes, saving only that of the Initiates, of course."

  It seemed clear to me that she did not really believe, whatever might be her protestations, that the Merchants was a high caste. She would be only too eager, it seemed, to "raise caste." What had love to do with such things, I wondered. Why should she wish to raise caste? Surely that was not truly important. Caste considerations seemed to me artificial, and rather meaningless, except as they tended to reflect sets of related occupations. Suppose there was something to caste. Why should she feel herself entitled to raise caste? What was special about her? Why should a Merchant's daughter aspire to a higher caste? With what justification? Why should she be permitted to raise caste? Why should she not look for love in her own caste, or in a lower caste? Why should she not look for love wherever she found it, regardless of caste? But then I was not Gorean. She was a free woman, of course; she could bargain, plan and plot to improve her position in society. How different from a slave. The slave's position in society is fixed, as fixed as the collar on her neck. She cannot sell herself, but is sold. She must serve the humblest master with the same heat, devotion and perfection as the administrator of a city. In fact, I have sometimes wondered if the existence of kajirae on this world does not contribute to its stability. The man who has everything from a woman is not likely to be dissatisfied, cruel and viciously ambitious. He tends to be happy, and happy men are not likely, on the whole, and absent serious provocations, to disrupt society. And the slave, of course, hopes to find her love master, whom she desires in the fullness of her femininity to serve submissively, diligently, gratefully, and joyously, he who will care for her, and love her, and treasure her as a slave of slaves. It is to his whip she wishes to be subject. In all their tenderness he will never let her forget whose collar she wears, and she loves him for it, his strength, and his gift to her, fully and uncompromisingly mastering her.

  I wondered if in the free woman, so haughty there in the darkness, there was any femininity, or a woman.

  She seemed to have no sense as to what it might be to be a woman. Doubtless her ransom would be paid, and she would never learn.

  Had she no slave in the cellars of her heart?

  Had she no concept as to where her true happiness might lie?

  "Yes," she said, "to the very highest of castes—saving only that of the Initiates, of course."

  The Initiates, as I understood it, were celibate, or putatively so.

  "Oh, yes! He would come back!" she said. "He was smitten with me! But I would not so much as glance at him now, I reclining in my palanquin. Let him tremble. Let him suffer! The palanquin seemed a sturdy sort. It was he, of course, who would close its shutters. 'Doubtless you will bring a high ransom,' he said. 'What?' I said, turning quickly toward him. The doors of the palanquin swung shut. I heard two bolts slide into place. It suddenly seemed extremely quiet in the palanquin. I rose to my knees and pounded on the door. I could hear my pounding very clearly but could hear little or nothing from the outside. I was suddenly extremely frightened. The palanquin lifted. It began to move. I lost my balance. I wept. I recovered my balance. I cried out. I scrambled about the palanquin, pounding on the sides, the ceiling, the surface of the couch. It continued to move. I did not know to whence it was being borne. I was wild inside it, like a trapped animal. I called to the bearers. It seemed they could not, or would not, hear me. I screamed, my cry wild in the palanquin, reverberating within it, hurting my ears. But such a cry, I suddenly suspected, might not even be audible outside the palanquin. I tore away the hangings inside the palanquin. Behind them was iron. It was doubtless layered, insulated, and baffled. Outside, visible from the outside, would be the lacquered wood of the palanquin, it giving no hint as to what was inside. I lunged, and pressed, against the shutters of the door. They were, too, beneath the silk, torn away, of iron. Their construction was doubtless the same as, or comparable to, the construction of the sides. They were closed, and locked. I put my fingers to the margins of the shutters. They were fitted closely into heavy linings of leather. I could not begin to move them. I flung aside the cushions of the palanquin. I tore aside the coverlets. I thrust back the mattress. The flooring, too, was of iron. I tore the silk from the ceiling. It, too, was of iron. In it, as in the walls, were tiny baffles, doubtless such as to admit air, but soften, or preclude, the exit of sound waves. I knelt on the floor, pressing upward. I could budge nothing. I screamed again. I called out. I threatened. I promised rewards! I cajoled! The palanquin continued to move. It turned from time to time. Perhaps we were in less-traveled streets now, side streets. I grew hoarse with calling out. I could now scarcely speak. The finger tips of my gloves, and the palms of them, were worn and soiled from pressing the hard surfaces about me. My gloves were expensive. They would be ruined. They were even torn at the knuckles. And my knuckles within them, and the sides of my fists within them, hurt, from my pounding on the sides, the floor and ceiling of the palanquin. It turned again, and continued to move. I thrust down the mattress and the coverlets, twisted as they were, and knelt on them, and pounded them, in frustration, in futile rage. I then, exhausted and miserable, threw myself to my stomach upon them, weeping."

>   "Go on," I said.

  "I was in an iron box," she said, "being carried away."

  "You were helpless," I said.

  "For the first time in my life," she said. "The palanquin was apparently later placed on a wagon, doubtless covered over, and thusly was I removed from the city. I eventually fell asleep and, doubtless Ahn later, I awakened. The palanquin must have been removed from the wagon. The doors opened, and a voice said, 'Come forth.' I crept to the edge of the palanquin, to the threshold. It was dark outside. I was in some sort of ruined barn. I could see through its sides, and roof. We were somewhere in the country. The moons were full. A rope was dropped over my head and drawn closely about my neck. By its means I was drawn from the palanquin. One man then stood behind me, he who held the rope by means of which I was kept in place. I was then, other than for the fellow behind me, standing before my captors. There were, altogether, six or seven of them. He who had lured me to the shop was there, and still masked. It was he who was most prominently before me. It was he, it seemed, who was first among them. 'What is the meaning of this?' I demanded. 'You cannot get away with this!' I cried. 'You will pay for this!' I cried. 'Release me!' I demanded. 'Keep your mouth shut,' he said. He said that to me, a free woman! 'I will do as I please!' I said. 'Do you wish to keep your clothing?' asked one of the men. Another laughed. 'I am a free woman,' I whispered. The fellow in the mask, whom I had foolishly taken as a smitten swain, seemed to be regarding my figure, in the moonlight. Shadows fell across me from the ruins of the barn. Doubtless he was free and could respect me, as I was free, as well. But it made me uneasy, to see him look at me, regarding me in the moonlight, in the shadows, from head to toe. 'Whatever the ransom you wish,' I assured him, 'it will be paid, promptly.' 'Let us strip her,' said one of the brutes, 'and have her serve us, keeping her as a slave, until the ransom is paid. None will know. And she, in her vanity, will never speak of what was done to her.' I could not move, for the rope on my neck. 'No,' said another, 'and if she dared to do so, she would doubtless be remanded to the pens, for sale outside the city.' I trembled. You can well imagine my terror, at the thought of being at the mercy of such beasts! Can you imagine? I, a free woman, to be kept as a slave? I am not such! The thought of it was unconscionable! I wavered. I almost fainted at the thought. 'You see,' said one of them, 'she desires so to serve!' 'No, no!' I cried. They laughed. How could they so misunderstand my responses? 'You would oil, juice and gush, naked, your beauty in chains,' said another. 'No!' I cried. 'You would hasten to serve, once having felt the lash,' said another. I almost swooned. 'No, no,' I murmured, scarcely able to speak. 'Interesting,' mused their leader. Did he, too, misunderstand my responses? 'I am a free woman!' I cried. But then I drew back, in terror, for he in the mask, their leader, had produced a knife. But I did not want to press back against he behind me, either. I stood where I was, frightened, the rope on my neck. Then I did shrink back, for the knife approached me. 'Please!' I protested. I felt its point move through my robes, their layers. Its point was at my lower abdomen. Then, with a quick lateral motion, I crying out a little, it opened a slit in my robes, perhaps a mere hort or two in width. 'Keep your hands to your sides,' said the leader of my captors. The knife, its point, was within my robes. Then it directed itself toward me. I felt the point press lightly, twice, against my lower abdomen. 'Please!' I wept. The point came forward a little. I pressed back, against the captor behind me, literally against him. I was pinned against him, by the point of the knife. My head was up, from the rope on my neck. 'Does she have a belly?' asked one of the men. 'Oh!' I said. I winced. 'It would seem so,' said their leader, he in the mask. The men laughed. 'Is it a pretty one?' asked a man. 'Let us see,' said another. 'Hands at your sides!' I was sternly warned by the leader. I felt the knife turn within my robes, its blade upward. From the manner in which it had earlier parted my robes I knew it was extremely sharp. With one upward diagonal movement I had little doubt it could part my garments, with one stroke revealing me from my lower belly to my throat. I sobbed. I tensed. The knife was removed from my garments, and sheathed. I quickly put my hands over the tiny rent in my robes, and then adjusted them, that it would be covered. One of the men uttered a sound, as of disappointment. 'Hands to your sides,' my captor reminded me. I put my hands again to my sides. The rent was now well concealed, as I had adjusted the robes. 'The value of a slave can only be adequately ascertained when she is utterly bared,' said my captor, 'but the value of a free woman, one for whom a ransom is requested, is often the better preserved the more her modesty is respected.' 'True,' said a man. Unaccountably I was angry. 'Keep your hands to your sides,' said my captor, again. I complied. I then felt a broad band of leather put about me. It was quite snug, and it was buckled behind me. Within it, my arms were helpless. It also had, as I later learned, a ring in the back, by means of which I might be attached to various objects, such as other rings or stanchions. I then stood before them, in this confinement. The rope was still on my neck. 'What ransom shall we ask for you?' inquired my captor. 'I am priceless,' I said. 'Nonetheless,' said he, the beast, 'we shall think in terms of a finite amount.' 'Armies will search for me!' I said. One of the men laughed. 'But doubtless there will be a search,' said another. 'Have no fear, lady,' said my captor. 'We have a place in mind for you, an excellent place, one for your safekeeping, where no one will ever find you.'"

  At this point she desisted in her discourse and I heard, in the darkness, an angry, futile rattling of bars. I also detected, again, the creaking of a chain, as though some object, suspended on it, might be swinging back and forth. I did not know in what sort of incarceration she was, of course, but I did not doubt, from what I knew of this world, that it would be effective. I also heard a churning below us, in the water. The sound must have excited the curiosity of something down there.

  "He then put his hands to my head," she continued, "I helpless before him, confined in the broad band of leather, held in place by the rope on my neck. His hands were at my veil! 'No!' I cried. His hand removed the pins. He held the veil in place. 'No!' I begged. I was helpless! He could face-strip me at his pleasure! 'You did not care, as I recall,' he said, 'to lower your veil, that even for an instant your features might be glimpsed.' 'No!' I sobbed. These words reminded me, of course, of my own, in the shop. I was terrified. His hands were on my veil. He could remove it, in any fashion he might wish, at any time he might wish. 'If you do not wish your veil lowered,' said he, 'then let it be raised.' He then lifted my veil upward and bound it about my face. In moments, with the veil and other cloths, I was blindfolded. A cloth, too, over the veil, was drawn back between my teeth, deeply, and tied, within my hood, behind the back of my neck. I was thusly gagged. My hood then, too, was drawn forward, over my features, and tied beneath my chin. The rope remained on my neck. I was lifted from my feet, and sat upon the wooden floor. To my horror my hose and slippers were removed. 'She has pretty feet,' said a man. 'Like a slave,' said another. 'Yes,' said another. I drew back my feet, but a man crossed them, the right over the left. They were then lashed together, with the hose. 'The slippers are rich, and intricately embroidered,' said the leader. 'Doubtless there is not another such pair in the city. They will be easily recognized. They will serve as token that she is within our power.' Then said the leader to me, 'One whimper means "Yes," and two whimpers means "No." Do you understand?' I whimpered once. There is apparently a code in such things."

  This was true. Such a convention was, as far as I knew, commonly observed on this world. At any rate I, who had been fitted with, and subjected to, and had learned to endure, a considerable variety of gags, and mouth bonds, in my training, was familiar with it. It had been taught me as early as my first gag. I understood, of course, that such things might well not be familiar to free women. To be sure, they are not stupid, no more than other women, and can be taught them quickly. Most slaves, after all, doubtless, were once free women. One interesting form of gag is being "gagged by the master's will," in which the woman is simply
forbidden to speak, except, of course, for whimpers, in response to direct questions. One may also be "bound by the master's will," in which case one must keep one's limbs in a given position, perhaps wrists crossed, at the back of one's head, as though they were literally bound, forbidden to separate them without permission. I do not know why one whimper is used for "Yes," and two for "No." It is probably because one usually thinks of such responses, for whatever reason, in terms of "Yes" and "No," rather than of "No" and "Yes." It does not seem to be correlated with the greater frequency of affirmative to negative responses to questions. For example, "Do you wish a blanket in your cell?" is likely to elicit a piteously affirmative response, whereas "Do you wish to be lashed?" is likely to elicit one which is earnestly negative.

  "The rope was removed from my neck," she said. "I was then lifted in the arms of someone. 'We expect you to be cooperative,' I was informed by the leader. His voice was from before me, so it was not he in whose arms I was held. 'If you are not cooperative, or choose to be troublesome,' he continued, 'your clothing will be removed, and you will be lashed, as though you might be a slave. Do you understand?' I assumed he was bluffing, but with such a man, with such men, such beasts and brutes, I could not be sure. I whimpered once. 'Take her away,' said the leader. I sobbed, and whimpered, and struggled, but it was to no avail. I was later placed in a trunk of some sort, I think. I heard the latches fastened. Indeed, I thought I heard, as well, the closing of four heavy padlocks. This was placed on a cart. Several times I was transferred from one container or vehicle to another. I was ungagged only in darkness and then to be fed and watered. More than once I was aerially transported."

  I, too, at least once, had been so transported. Well I recalled my helplessness, the whistling of the wind, the swaying of the basket. It would be by air, it seemed, in one fashion or another, one would most likely arrive at this place, this apparently remote aerie. She had claimed to be clothed. I supposed it true, but in the darkness I did not know. She must be fortunate. Certainly most of the women I had seen brought here, when I was in the cell in the side of the mountain, had been brought here as stripped, or scantily clad, captives. Slaving, it seemed, was a part of the business of this place. On this world, as I have indicated, women count as loot. Perhaps the women were then transported beyond the mountains, to far markets.