"You seem a different woman than before," I said.
"I now realize that I am a slave, Master," she said.
"If I accept your use," I said, "you must understand that I do so—unconditionally."
"No strong man accepts a woman on any other terms," she said. "I would not have it any other way."
"Do you understand what it is to be a man's total slave?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Speak," I said.
"The slave is totally subject to the master in all ways, and in all things. She is his to do with as he pleases. She depends on him for her food and the merest scrap of her clothing, if any. She is subject, completely, to his discipline, to his abuse and his whip. She is owned, like a sandal or saddle. She may be slain even on a whim, if her master wishes."
"Are these, and other such conditions, acceptable to you?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"I accept your use," I said.
"Thank you, Master!" she cried. She seized me about the legs and kissed me. I felt her tears through my tunic.
"Stand," I said.
Joyfully she stood.
"Do you think your lot with me will be easy, Slave?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said, happily.
I went to the travois on which Hci lay. On it, too, were various articles and supplies. I cut a length from a narrow, braided rawhide rope.
"He is going to put her in a collar!" said one of the Waniyanpi women, excitedly, awe in her voice.
"Yes," said another, breathlessly.
"Come away!" said Radish to the women and men. But the women would not be budged. The men too, their eyes cast down, save for furtive glances, seemed loath to leave.
I took the narrow rope, then, and looped it about her neck, three times. I then knotted it and ran my finger about, under the loops, making sure that they were unslippable and snug, but not in the least uncomfortable. The point of the collar is to mark the woman as a slave and, in many cases, by means of devices such as a particular kind of knot, a tag, an engraving on metal, or a plate attached to it, to identify the master, not to cause her discomfort. Most of the time she will not even be aware she is wearing it. She may always, of course, be reminded. And if she is in doubt, she may always touch it. It is on her. I let the two loose ends of the braided, rawhide rope, some seven or eight inches in length, dangle between her breasts. They would also make a convenient, short leash, to pull her about with, if I wished.
I looked at the woman, collared. The three loops were about her neck. The ends dangled down, between her breasts. This collaring arrangement, though not unfamiliar on Gor generally, particularly after the fall of a city, when metal collars may not be available in abundance, or in rural areas, is unusual in the Barrens, where leather, thong-tied beaded collars are almost universal. I did not think, accordingly, that there would be much doubt as to who it was, to whom her use belonged.
I thought she would make a lovely slave.
"She is collared!" said one of the women, breathlessly.
"Yes!" said another.
"Collared," whispered another, in awe.
"She is so beautiful," said another.
"That is why she is wanted, that is why she is collared!" said another.
"How fortunate she is," said another. "She is beautiful enough to be collared."
"How she must love her collar!" breathed another.
"She has been claimed!" whispered another.
"She has been found worthy of collaring," said another.
"Would that I were attractive enough, exciting enough, beautiful enough, to win the collar!" said another.
"How beautiful she is in her collar!" exclaimed another.
But it was only some loops of rawhide. I wondered what would have been their reactions if they had seen the light, gleaming, closely encircling slave collars of the high cities of Gor, or the graceful loops of Turia. They had little idea of how beautiful a woman could be in such collars. It was little wonder that even free women sometimes secretly affixed collars on their own necks and examined themselves in mirrors, perhaps speculating on what prices they might bring in a market or on how well one such as they might please a master, before hastening to remove them and, weeping, casting themselves in ravaging, forlorn unease upon the cold beddings of lonely couches.
"Come away!" said Radish.
I noted that even the men, furtively, with but one exception, observed the collaring of the beautiful female. I saw that they, too, wished they had a female to collar. I wondered if the sight of her collaring might arouse their manhood. The one exception was Pumpkin. He kept his eyes cast down, determinedly. He was sweating. His fists were clenched. I saw that he, in the approved fashion of the Waniyanpi, would turn his manhood against himself, using it to frustrate himself, using it to cause himself suffering, denying it its fulfillment, its sovereignty and dominance.
"Take the place of my friend, in the traces of the travois, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
Cuwignaka slipped from the broad, over-the-shoulder strap he had used to exert leverage on the travois and then helped the girl to adjust it on her body. She then stood before the travois, very straight and beautiful, the strap on her body. The men and women, with the exception of Pumpkin and Radish, looked on, thrilled, and in awe and envy. The woman was obviously a slave. She would serve in any way her masters chose. She could serve even, obviously, as a draft beast.
"Come away!" said Radish.
The men and women did not move.
"Pumpkin," said Radish. "Pumpkin!"
I saw how she appealed to him, as to a natural leader.
"Yes, Radish," he said.
"Come away," she said. "Come away, Pumpkin!"
"Yes, Radish," he said, and turned meekly about. He took his way from the place. The others, and then Radish, casting a look of hatred behind her, followed.
I walked over to the girl.
She lifted her head proudly, the strap about her body.
"We have little food," I said. "There will be great danger."
"I am a slave," she said. "Whip me, if I do not please you."
"It is a fitting answer," I said. I regarded her. She was very beautiful.
"It seems to me you took a great risk," I said. "You were very bold, very brave."
"Not really, Master," she said.
"How did you know I would accept your use?" I asked.
"I knew it," she said. "I sensed it."
"When?" I asked.
"As soon as you had me kneel before you," she said.
"Interesting," I said.
"I am a woman," she said. "We can tell such things."
"Interesting," I said. How subtle and deep was the intelligence of women, I thought. How much they know. How much they can sense. How simple and crude, how naive, sometimes seems the intelligence of men compared to the intelligence of women. What deep and wonderful creatures they are. Who can truly understand the emotional depths and needs, eons old, of these flowers of nature and evolution? How natural, then, it is, that the truly loving man will concern himself not with her distortions and perversions, ultimately barren, but with her emotional and sensuous truths, ancient and deep within her, with what might be called her biological and natural fulfillment. Then I shook such thoughts from my mind, for she was simply a slave, and was to be treated as such.
"Oh!" she said.
I cinched the strap closely on her body.
"Master is rough," she said.
"Be silent, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said, smiling.
"What, now, is our destination?" I asked Cuwignaka.
"We will go north," he said. "We will build a raft for the travois and cross the Northern Kaiila. We will then proceed north and west of Council Rock, into the land of the Casmu Kaiila. There is a place there I know. It is a camping site favored by Kahintokapa."
"I wonder if he survived," I said.
"Let us hope so
," said Cuwignaka.
"What sort of place is this?" I asked.
"It is secluded," said Cuwignaka. "There is wood and water. Game is generally available in the vicinity."
"Do Kaiila, generally, know of this place?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "We are generally familiar with one another's camp sites. This is important if we wish to gather the bands. It can also be important in the winter. Sometimes there is food in one place and not in another."
"Various survivors, then," I said, "might possibly have gone to this place."
"That is not unlikely," said Cuwignaka.
"Let us then be on our way," I said. I picked up the other strap, the rigged harness, the trace, and slipped it over my shoulder, about my body.
"It is we who will pull the travois, is it not?" asked the girl.
"Yes," I said. "We are slaves." Actually I wished Cuwignaka to rest. He was still weak from the dance. Four times in the last five days the wounds on his chest had begun to bleed.
"I am pleased to be harnessed with you, to pull with you, Master," she said.
"Do not slack," I said, "or you will be severely beaten."
"I shall not," she said. She looked behind herself, uneasily, at Cuwignaka. "Master," she said, "I am bare."
"I am well aware of that, my lovely harness mate," I said.
"Will he whip us?" she asked, in a whisper.
"He will if he wishes," I told her.
She swallowed hard.
"When I give the signal," I said, "lean forward and step out with your left foot. Lengthen your stride somewhat, and I shall shorten mine. I shall set the pace. If you cannot keep it, beg for its reduction."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Now," I said, "step forward."
"Yes, Master," she said.
* * * *
"I love working beside you, pulling with you, Master," she said.
"I, myself," I said, "would prefer for this work to be done by four or five slave girls, naked, and under whips."
"Yes, Master," she said, looking down.
We continued on our way, northward, drawing the travois through the tall grass.
She was doing very well. Either she did not wish to slacken her efforts or feared, mightily, to do so. Such a slackening, of course, would have been instantly detectable to me, her harness mate. She would then, of course, have been whipped, and made to draw more than her share of the weight.
"Master," she said, after a time.
"Yes," I said.
"Am I to be permitted clothing?" she asked.
"Not for a time," I said. "Perhaps, later. We will see. Perhaps by your performances, if they are sufficiently superb, you may, in time, be adjudged worthy of a scrap of cloth."
"Yes, Master," she said, happily. "Master," she said, a little later.
"Yes," I said.
"I do not have a name," she said.
"That is true," I said.
We continued to draw the travois through the tall grass.
"Am I to be named?" she asked.
"Perhaps," I said.
"I would like to have a name," she said.
"It is probably a good idea for animals like you to be given names," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Perhaps we should call you 'Ahtudan'," I said.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"'Something to be spit upon,'" I said. "It is a fitting name for a slave, it is not?"
"Yes, Master," she said, her head down.
"Perhaps we could call you 'Cesli' or 'Cespu'," I said.
"What do those names mean?" she asked.
"'Cesli'," I said, "means 'dung.'"
"Oh," she said.
"Either of men or animals," I said.
"I see," she said.
"'Cespu' means 'wart' or 'scab,'" I said.
"I see," she said.
"Let us save those names," said Cuwignaka.
"Oh?" I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Very well," I said. I smiled. In Cuwignaka there was a warrior.
"Is it all right with you," I asked the girl, "if we save those names?"
"Yes, Master," she laughed.
"What about 'Turnip'?" I asked.
"Oh, please, Master, no," she laughed. "That reminds me so of the Waniyanpi."
"Your life has changed considerably, as you will soon learn," I said. "That name, thus, would no longer be appropriate for you."
"I am pleased to hear it," she said.
"Perhaps I should call you 'Wowiyutanye'," I said.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"Temptation," I said.
"Master flatters me," she said, head down, smiling.
"I have a name for you," I said.
"What, Master?" she asked, eagerly, apprehensively.
"It is not a sophisticated name," I said.
"No, Master," she said, "for I am only a slave."
"It seems to me a simple, suitable name for a slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said. Whatever name it was she would wear it. Animals must wear whatever names are given to them.
"I name you—" I said.
"Yes, Master?" she said.
"I name you 'Mira'," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said. "Master well knows how to humble a slave! Once that name was worn by a slave who did not know she was a slave. It was then a slave's name but not a slave name. Then the slave was legally embonded. She learned then, and soon, that she was truly a slave. Her nature was revealed. Her truth was manifested. The name then again was put on her, this time as a slave name. Now the name is not only a slave's name, as it always was, but is a slave name as well, and recognized and acknowledged publicly, by the slave and others, as such. How cleverly, then, this reminds the slave that she was never anything, even before the technicality of her legal embondment, but a slave!"
"Do you think you will prove to be a satisfactory slave?" I asked.
"I will try with all my heart, Master," she said.
"Do you want to be a slave?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said, "with all my heart."
"See that you serve well," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Pull, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
34
Squash and Strawberry
"Tie me and use me as a slave," she begged.
I thonged her hands casually, efficiently, behind her back. I then threw her to the grass at my feet.
She reared up on her elbows. "I beg slave rape," she gasped.
I dropped to the grass beside her and put my left hand in her hair, pulling her head back to the grass. I pulled it back, and held it, in such a way that she must look back, and up, at the sky. I broke off a long stalk of grass.
It had been four days since we had crossed the Northern Kaiila. In our passage we had seen, to our right, Council Rock, rearing high, almost anomalously, out of the plains, prominent amidst a group of smaller, associated bluffs.
"Master?" she asked.
I began to tease her with the stalk of grass.
"Are they near?" I asked Cuwignaka.
"Yes," he said.
He was sitting nearby, cross-legged, mending one of the traces on the travois.
"Oh, oh!" said the girl.
"Are they armed?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Did you put out a little pemmican?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Oh!" said the girl. "Oh!"
We spoke in Kaiila. The girl did not know this language. She did not even know what we were talking about. In her presence we had discussed the matter only in Kaiila.
"Oh, please, Master, stop!" begged the girl. She began to squirm and whimper. She could not free herself, of course, for my left hand held her hair and my right leg was across her legs. She, helpless, was well held in place.
"I did not want you to do this, Sweet Master," she said. "Please, I beg you, stop
!"
She squirmed, recoiling and shuddering, as it pleased me to make her do.
"Oh, please!" she said in misery. "Please, my Master!"
She did not even know of the proximity of the others. They had been with us since even before we had crossed the Northern Kaiila. They, like the girl, as we had ascertained to our satisfaction, did not understand Kaiila, or did not much understand it. We had made remarks in their hearing to which they, if they had understood Kaiila adequately, presumably would have responded, probably by swift flight. It seemed quite clear that they did not know that we were aware of their presence. Sometimes Cuwignaka had left a little pemmican behind at our camp sites, as though inadvertently. It was time, now, we had decided, to make their acquaintance.
"Oh, please, stop, Master!" she begged. "I will do anything! I will do anything!"
"But you must do anything, anyway," I said. "You are a slave."
"Yes, Master!" she cried.
I desisted in touching her body lightly, unexpectedly, here and there, with the stalk of grass.
"Do you think you can yield well?" I asked.
"Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" she gasped.
I put the stalk of grass to the side.
I released her hair.
"Master?" she said.
"Kiss," I said.
She reared up on her elbows, eagerly, obediently, struggling, reaching forward, and put her mouth to mine.
Blood Brothers of Gor Page 35
