Rogue of Gor

by John Norman

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  I delivered the blow, letting it be the fiercest of her beating.

  I then put aside the whip and lowered the chain. She collapsed to the floor. I unbound her hands from the ring, freeing her, too, of the tether which had confined her wrists.

  She lay on her stomach on the tiles of the hall. She lifted her head, slowly. She shook her head to clear her vision. She looked at me, disbelievingly.

  I removed my sandals and threw them to the tiles, near where she lay.

  Obediently, on her hands and knees, one by one, putting her head down, she brought them to me in her teeth, and put them before me. She then looked up.

  "Kiss the whip," I told her.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  She took the whip, held before her, in her small hands and, pressing her lips fervently to it, kissed it. She then looked up at me, and I saw in her eyes, moist and awe-stricken, that I was her master.

  I then collared her.

  "Your duties in this house, Lola," I told her, "will be numerous and complex. In particular, you will be a house slave. You will dust and clean the house, and keep it neat. You will mend and sew. You will wash and iron clothing. You will shop, and cook and serve. All manners of domestic tasks, trivial and servile, unfit for free women, will be yours."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Too, you will take orders in this house from Lady Beverly, Miss Henderson, who is a free woman in the house, as you would from me, but you are to remember always that it is I who own you, and not she."

  "Yes, Master," she said. "But for such a handsome Master am I to be only a house slave?"

  "Foremost among your duties," I said, "for you are beautiful, will be to attend to the pleasures of your Master."

  "Yes, Master," she said. "Please forgive me, Master, for not having been pleasing to you before."

  "Do you wish to be whipped again?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said. "No!"

  The whipping had convinced her that she was under discipline. This understanding, of course, goes far beyond the mere pain of a particular episode. The whipping in itself, though of considerable moment, is insignificant when compared to the lesson it teaches. It teaches the girl that she is under the total domination of a man. It teaches her that she is at his mercy, and is owned, truly. This fulfills something very deep in the female. This is the lesson of the leather. This is not to deny, of course, that a woman who is fully conscious of her embonded condition, does not fear the whip. She does, for she knows what it can, and will, do to her if she is not pleasing. The only woman who does not fear the whip is she who has not felt it.

  "Then, perhaps you should begin to be pleasing to me now," I said.

  "Yes, Master!" she said, and began to kiss at my body.

  "But on the other hand," I said, "perhaps you should merely tie my sandals."

  "Let me tie them later," she said. "Let me please you now."

  "Do you beg it?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Very well," I said.

  * * * *

  Lola, kneeling behind the bars of the slave kennel, looked up at me. "You are so different now from before," she said.

  I shrugged.

  She put her arm timidly through the bars, to touch me. "Will you not again, sometime, subject me to slave rape?" she asked.

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "I am pleased that you bought me," she whispered. "I will try to serve you well."

  "Do not think things will be easy here for you," I said, "for there is a free woman in the house."

  "I will obey her," said Lola, "and with perfection."

  "But do not forget," I said, "that it is I who own you, and not she."

  "I shall not forget, Master," she smiled. Then she kissed her finger tips and, putting her hand through the bars, put her hand to my waist. "I know well who owns me," she said.

  "Rest now," I said. "The Mistress will be home soon, and then, doubtless, you will be soon set to chores."

  "Yes, Master," said Lola.

  * * * *

  Lola now returned to the small table and, kneeling, head down, served us our dessert, slices of tospit, sprinkled with four Gorean sugars.

  "I see there may be some advantages to having a slave in the house," said Miss Henderson.

  "I have never doubted it," I said.

  "You may serve the black wine now, in small cups, Lola," said Miss Henderson.

  "Yes, Mistress," whispered Lola.

  This was a delicacy. I had purchased some, some days ago, but we had not yet served it. In a few Ehn Lola returned with the tray, with the vessel of steaming liquid, the creams and sugars, the tiny cups, and the small spoons for mixing and measuring.

  "Delicious," said Miss Henderson.

  "Thank you, Mistress," said Lola. She then drew back a bit, and knelt, to be unobtrusive, and yet available, instantly, to serve, should free folk wish aught.

  "You are a very pretty girl, Lola," said Miss Henderson, regarding her.

  "Thank you, Mistress," said Lola, her head down.

  "Men must find you attractive," said Miss Henderson.

  "Perhaps, Mistress," said Lola, "some men." I smiled to myself. The man who did not find Lola attractive must indeed be an inert dolt.

  "How long have you been a slave?" asked Miss Henderson.

  "Four years, Mistress," said Lola.

  "Have you had several Masters?" asked Miss Henderson.

  "Yes, Mistress," said Lola.

  "Have you served them as a slave?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mistress," said Lola.

  "As a full slave?" asked Miss Henderson.

  Lola lowered her head further. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered.

  "Do you enjoy their hands on your body?" asked Miss Henderson.

  "Yes, Mistress," whispered Lola.

  "I see that you are a true slave," said Miss Henderson.

  "Yes, Mistress," whispered Lola.

  "Incidentally," I said to Miss Henderson, "move your things out of the master bedroom."

  "It is my bedroom!" she said.

  "No," I said. "I am taking it. It is larger. And it has a porch, and a view of the garden and sky. I am renting the house. I am making it mine."

  "No!" she said.

  "Too," I said, "it has the great couch, the one with the slave ring at its foot."

  "I see," said Miss Henderson, looking angrily at Lola. Lola did not raise her head, but knelt there, her knees close together, in the brief slave tunic. "I see," said Miss Henderson, and rose to her feet, hurrying angrily upstairs.

  I finished my black wine, enjoying it. When I had finished I permitted Lola to clear the table and address herself to the work in the kitchen.

  After a time I went upstairs. Miss Henderson had cleared the room. I looked at the heavy iron slave ring, about eight inches in diameter, set in the stone of the great couch. I then went into Miss Henderson's room. She was sitting on the couch. "You did not knock," she said. "I need not knock to enter the room of my kept woman," I said. I then took my things from the room and put them into the master bedroom. I looked over the balustrade to the sky beyond. It was lovely. As I again started downstairs I met Miss Henderson on the landing. She, too, was going downstairs.

  "You seem angry," I said.

  "Not I," she said.

  "Why are you going downstairs?" I asked.

  "To supervise the slave," she said. "Such girls are lazy and will do no work if they are not closely watched."

  I stepped aside and let her precede me down the stairs. She was a free woman, and a woman of Earth. She was not a slave, who must heel her master.

  * * * *

  "Come here, Lola," I said.

  It was now in the early evening. Miss Henderson and I, with small cups of a Turian liqueur before us, lounged in the living room. A tharlarion-oil lamp lit the room.

  "Stand here," I told Lola.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Surely you
are not angry," I said to Miss Henderson, "that I bought her." I faced Lola away from me. I put my hands on her ankle. "Look at this ankle," I said. Lola trembled. "And these calves and thighs," I said, "and the luscious, central curves of her, and these breasts and shoulders." I was now standing beside the slave. I put my hand under her chin, lifting it up. "And this neck, in my collar," I said, "and this head and face, and this hair. Surely you can see that she is an excellent buy."

  "Yes," said Miss Henderson, angrily, "she was an excellent buy!"

  "When you have finished your work tonight, Lola," I said, "go upstairs to the master bedroom. Take your clothes off, and kneel there, by the slave ring, and await my pleasure."

  "Yes, Master," she said, and went then, hurriedly, to the kitchen.

  "Just like that?" asked Miss Henderson.

  "Of course," I said. "She is a slave."

  "It must be pleasant to have such absolute power over a woman," she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  In time Miss Henderson and I had finished our liqueur. Lola cleaned the glasses and put them away. Then, head down, quietly, when she had finished, she slipped past us and made her way upstairs to the master bedroom.

  "Do you find her more beautiful than I?" asked Miss Henderson.

  "She is quite beautiful," I said. "But I do not think that she is more beautiful than you. You are quite beautiful, you know."

  "Yet it is she whom you kneel at your slave ring, not I," said Miss Henderson.

  I gritted my teeth, forcing the thought of Miss Henderson kneeling naked at my slave ring, awaiting my pleasure, from my mind. It was all I could do to control myself. She was the most incredibly attractive female I had ever known.

  "You are a free woman," I said.

  "Perhaps I would make a good slave," she said.

  "I doubt it," I said. "You are a woman of Earth."

  "Gorean men say that we make excellent slaves," she said. "It is only necessary that we understand clearly that we are slaves, and are put under discipline. We then blossom in our slavery, beautifully, as much or perhaps even more so than Gorean girls."

  "I have given you respect," I said. "I have given you freedom. I have given you money. I have relieved you of work. I have denied you nothing. Yet you remain dissatisfied."

  "You have denied me one thing," she said.

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "A collar," she said.

  "Go to your room," I said.

  "Of course," she said. "Let me not keep you from your slut."

  She rose from the table and, lifting the hem of her robes, went to the stairs.

  "She is doubtless already naked, and at your ring," she said.

  "She had better be," I said, "unless she wishes to be whipped."

  Angrily Miss Henderson ascended the stairs.

  "Miss Henderson," I called.

  "Yes, Mister Marshall," she said.

  "Remember that your door is to be left unbolted," I said.

  "I know," she said. "That my door be bolted is not permitted. A keeper must always have access to his kept woman."

  She then entered her room, the smaller room which, previously, had been mine. She closed the door firmly, decisively, angrily.

  I listened carefully.

  She did not bolt it.

  I then, not hurrying, went upstairs. I entered my room and closed the door behind me, bolting it.

  I looked down at Lola. She knelt naked, at the ring. She looked up at me, and smiled. "I await your pleasure, Master," she said.

  "Spread the furs," I said, "and light the ravishment lamp."

  I removed my tunic, throwing it aside.

  In a few moments Lola lay on the furs, at the foot of the couch, on her belly, her hands at her sides, the backs of her hands to the furs, the palms of her hands vulnerably up, exposed.

  I crouched beside her and took the nearby chain and collar. I fastened the chain to the slave ring and then closed the heavy collar about her neck, over the other collar. She was then chained by the neck to my slave ring.

  I took her body in my hands and turned her to her back. Her weight was light for my strength.

  She looked up at me, breathlessly. She lifted her arms and put them about my neck. "I am yours, Master," she whispered.

  "That is known to me," I said.

  "Yes, yes, Master," she whispered, lifting her lips to mine.

  15

  The House has been Ransacked;

  Miss Henderson has been Bound as a Slave;

  I do not Abuse Her

  The door was ajar.

  I had returned early from the wharves. There had been little work.

  I was apprehensive that the door was ajar.

  "Lola!" I called, stepping within the threshold. "Lola!"

  I heard a tiny sound, a pathetic, tiny whimper, muffled, almost inaudible, from a few feet away.

  I ran to the slave kennel on the left. Lola was within, naked, sitting, bound hand and foot. She was tightly gagged. Only the tiniest, muffled sounds could escape her.

  The key was nearby. I opened the kennel. I pulled and lifted her out. I fumbled with the knots on the gag. I loosened them and pulled the binding down about her neck. I pulled the deep, heavy wadding from her mouth.

  "The Mistress," she said. "She is upstairs."

  I looked about. The house was a shambles. Goods were cast about. My pouch, left home, had been emptied out upon the floor.

  "Who did this?" I asked.

  "A man," she said. "A large man. He wore a mask, purple."

  "Is he in the house?" I asked.

  "No," she gasped.

  I untied her hands. I glanced at the knots on her ankles. I did not think that she, with her woman's strength, could well undo them. I loosened them.

  "What did he want?" I asked her.

  "I do not know, Master," she said.

  I hurried upstairs. Miss Henderson was in the master bedroom. She was on the great couch. She looked at me, pathetically. There were bruises on her body. She was tied as a slave. She tried to speak, but she had been well gagged.

  My things in the bedroom had been gone through, and thrown about.

  I looked at Miss Henderson. Her small legs, by the ankles, had been tied cruelly apart. Her wrists, too, were tied widely apart. Small rings, on either side of the couch, at the head and foot, anchoring the binding fiber, permitted this tie. It is not an uncommon tie for slaves. There were tears in her eyes. She made tiny, muffled noises. I could scarcely hear them, though I stood at the foot of the couch.

  Lola, her slave tunic now drawn on, stood in the threshold of the master bedroom. "The Mistress was not circumspect," she said. "She opened the door. The man thrust in. He turned her about and held her, a knife at her throat. 'Do not run or cry out,' he said, 'or your Mistress dies. Bring cloths and binding fiber.' I obeyed. 'Strip,' he ordered me. I obeyed. 'Lie on your stomachs, side by side,' he told us. We obeyed. Then, while he knelt across the body of the Mistress, that she might not flee, he bound me, hand and foot, and gagged me. Then, at his leisure, garment by garment, with his knife, seeming to enjoy having her progressively revealed to him, he stripped the Mistress. He then, though she was free, trussed and gagged her identically as he had me. He then stood up and regarded us. We lay before him, though I was a slave and she free, side by side, identically helpless. I was put in the slave kennel, and the kennel was locked. She he carried upstairs."

  I looked at Miss Henderson with irritation. What a fool she was to have so thoughtlessly opened the door.

  She struggled in the binding fiber. Her eyes begged me to release her. She made tiny noises, helpless, pathetic, almost inaudible.

  "Shall I free her, Master?" asked Lola.

  "No," I said, angrily.

  I then went to Miss Henderson's bedroom. It, too, was a shambles.

  "The kitchen, I assume, was searched," I said to Lola, returning to the master bedroom.

  "Yes," she said.

  "What did he take?" I asked.
>
  "As far as I know," she said, "he took nothing."

  "Go to the kitchen, Lola," I said. "Set things in order."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I shut the door behind her. I had little doubt for what it was that the visitor had sought.

  Miss Henderson whimpered.

  "What a fool you are to have opened the door, not knowing the nature or identity of your guest," I said.

  Anger, as well as tears, welled up in her eyes.

  "Yet," I said, regarding her, "you are a pretty little fool."

  She twisted, angrily, in the binding fiber.

  I knelt upon the couch and, turning her head to the side, untied the knots at the back of her neck. Then, turning her head to face me, I pulled the wet, heavy packing of the gag from her mouth.

  "Your gag was quite effective," I told her, "as was Lola's. He who gagged you is apparently no stranger to the control of prisoners."

  "After he had brought me upstairs and tied me, as you find me," she said, "he removed my gag, temporarily."

  "Yes?" I said.

  "He struck me until I begged to be raped," she said. "He made me beg to be raped!"

  "And what happened," I asked, smiling, "after you had begged to be raped?"

  "He laughed, and then raped me," she said, in fury.

  "Of course," I said. "Had you not asked him to do so?"

  "He looked upon me as though I might be a slave," she said, "and he treated me, thoughtlessly and casually, as though I might be a slave. He even called me 'Slave'!"

  "Gorean men are expert in such matters," I said. "Perhaps he knows something about you that I do not know."

  "Look!" she said. "He tied me as a slave!"

  "You look well," I told her, "tied as a slave."

  She squirmed in the binding fiber angrily, helplessly. "Please, unbind me," she said.

  I looked at her.

  "The topaz is gone," she said.

  "Speak softly," I said. "Lola is a slave. She need know nothing of the topaz."

  "It is gone," she said, softly.

  "Oh?" I said.

  "I was terrified," she said, "and so I told him, immediately, where it was." She looked at me, angrily. "And then, in spite of my cooperation, he called me 'Slave' and, in amusement, subjected me to his will."