Conspirators of Gor

by John Norman

  We nodded, but remained on our knees.

  “Still,” she said, “I am prepared to be lenient.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rawlinson,” whispered Eve.

  “Please,” I said.

  “Please,” said Jane.

  “Expulsion may not be necessary,” she said.

  “No!” I said.

  “I am not unaware,” she said, “of the stresses and pressures imposed upon young women, even proper young ladies, refined and well-bred, such as yourselves, by biology. Indeed, how could you escape them? What could you do other than pretend they do not exist? But such pretensions would be unavailing. They will have their way, in one way or another. They will frequent your thoughts; they will emerge in your dreams.”

  We dared not respond.

  How could Mrs. Rawlinson, a house mother in a sorority such as ours, dare call attention to such things?

  “Do you know what such things tell you?” asked Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “No,” said Eve, uncertainly.

  “That you are females,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “And doubtless, in young men, stresses and pressures also exist, quite different from those which trouble you, which you strive to ignore or repudiate, but complementary to them. They, too, in this world, have their different whisperings, which they, too, are expected to strive to ignore or repudiate. But it is hard for them, as for you, to ignore the drums of nature, pounding in the blood.”

  It struck me as strange that she had used the expression ‘in this world’? What other world could there be? Could there be another world, one in which one need not strive to ignore or repudiate what one truly was? Was it so wrong, to be true to one’s nature, whatever it might be?

  Was nature so terrible?

  Had it not preserved extant species for countless generations?

  “Too,” she said, “you are young, intelligent, healthy, curious, and hormonally active. Too, perhaps you are not wholly happy, or at ease with yourselves. Perhaps you are miserable, bored, unsatisfied. Perhaps you are uneasy, and know not why. It is understandable, then, that you might wish to look into such things.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Rawlinson,” said Eve.

  Then she put her head down, quickly, frightened.

  “Your interest in such matters,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “despite what you might think, is not unusual. Many thousands know of these things, here and abroad, in Europe and Asia, and elsewhere. To you, it seems it is a secret. But surely it is a strange “secret” which is unbeknownst shared by multitudes, each of its keepers perhaps unaware of the others. But, too, there are many places where the enemies of nature are less entrenched and powerful than here, places where it does not occur to men and women that obvious biotruths, such as the complementary nature of the sexes, are to be routinely suppressed.”

  “We thank you for your understanding,” said Eve.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Jane.

  “So much!” I said, fervently, gratefully.

  “Still,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “you are guilty. You have had in your possession literature quite improper for this house and the school.”

  “Yes, Miss Rawlinson,” said Eve.

  “Moreover,” she said, “you are not common, ordinary young women. You are very special young women, young women of high intelligence, education, refinement, wealth, taste, and breeding. Indeed, you are ladies, but not ladies in so exalted and powerful a sense that such as you would grovel and tremble in the very presence of such.”

  I did not understand this.

  “Rather,” she said, “you are ladies, here, young ladies, in a somewhat archaic sense of the term, a term associated with station, quality, and gentry.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Rawlinson!” said Eve.

  “And, as such,” she said, “in the possession of such literature, well aware of its political impropriety, you have behaved inexcusably.”

  “Mrs. Rawlinson!” protested Jane.

  “Stay on your knees, sluts,” she said.

  “Sluts!” protested Jane.

  She had called us this before.

  “Who else would read such things?” she asked.

  Eve burst into tears.

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “‘sluts,’ all of you, and less than that, far less, if you but knew.”

  I did not understand her.

  I was afraid.

  “You must be punished,” she said.

  “No!” said Jane.

  “No!” I said.

  “I see,” said she, “that expulsion from the house is in order.”

  “No!” we cried. “Please, no!”

  It is difficult to convey my feelings, and, I suspect, the same might have been said for Eve and Jane. We were afraid, uncertain, and confused. In a moment we might be lost. In a sense, we were helpless. We were before the house mother, awaiting her pleasure and decision, on which our future might depend, and, as she would have it, unshod, and on our knees.

  The thought came to me, unbidden, sudden, that I was where I belonged, on my knees.

  “Be kind!” I begged.

  “You will be punished,” she said, “all of you, and exquisitely, in a way which will be wholly appropriate to your fault, in a way which will both conceal you and reveal you.”

  We understood nothing of this.

  “I will see to it that you will pay for your indiscretion,” she said. “I will see to it that you will suffer for it. I will see to it that you will be profoundly and exquisitely humiliated, that you, all of you, will be openly and publicly shamed, excruciatingly so, deliciously so, and yet in such a way that only we, you and I, understand fully what is occurring.”

  Eve, Jane, and I exchanged frightened glances.

  “You are familiar to some extent with the Gorean world,” she said. “That is clear from the books found in your rooms. Therefore, it is only fitting that such things be considered in your punishment.”

  “Mrs. Rawlinson?” stammered Eve.

  “We shall arrange a party,” she said. “To some, perhaps more than you suspect, it will be clear that it is a Gorean party; to others it will be no more than a delightful, exquisite entertainment, a costume affair, with a Roman or Greek flavor, hosted by the house, to which selected members of particular fraternities will be invited.”

  Such parties, and others, I knew, innocent and pleasant, but subtly, implicitly, and unmistakably stimulating, were not unknown on prestigious, sophisticated campuses

  Needless to say, we were much relieved.

  “The highest fraternities!” said Eve.

  “Of course,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  These would be the fellows from whom even we hoped for attention, and dates.

  Such a party, eagerly arranged and planned by our sisters, would be the talk of the campus, and the envy of other sororities, our rivals, which, I suspected, would soon address themselves to similar affairs.

  “It will take some days to prepare,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “There is the question of a proper decor, an apt menu, and such. It will not be difficult to arrange music. Dancers, too, may be obtained.”

  “Is this a punishment?” asked Eve.

  “For you three, yes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “I do not understand,” I said. “May I rise to my feet?”

  “No,” she said.

  “There would be the matter of costumes?” said Jane.

  “Quite right,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “How could one come by a proper wardrobe?” asked Jane.

  “It would have to be improvised,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “Robes, and such,” said Eve.

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “But the women would have to be veiled,” said Jane.

  Mrs. Rawlinson regarded her.

  “It must be unpleasant to drink through a veil,” said Jane.

  “It shows crudeness, to be sure,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “but low-caste women, in public, commonly do so. But do not be concerned. Our party will be intimate, and
private. In such circumstances high-caste women commonly dispense with veiling.”

  “But they might enter, veiled?” said Jane.

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “and, if they wish, they may eat and drink behind the veil.”

  “I did not know that,” said Jane.

  I did not know it, either.

  “Much may be done with a veil,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “at the discretion of its owner, an adjustment, an inadvertence, a slight laxity, a glimpsed cherry lip, a sparkling eye, and the knife is turned about in the heart of some luckless fellow.”

  “Delightful,” said Eve.

  “How will we distribute the garments, the roles?” asked Jane.

  “Would not everyone choose those of high caste, even those of Ubaras?” I asked.

  “We will select the roles, and distribute them by lot,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “Very well,” said Jane. “That seems fair. It would not do to have thirty Ubaras in the house.”

  “The lots, to some extent,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “will be rigged.”

  “How is that?” asked Eve.

  “I think that Nora will be our Ubara,” she said, “and certain of her friends the Ubara’s confidantes, or attendants.”

  “Why is that?” asked Jane.

  “My choice,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “Oh,” said Jane.

  I was sure that Mrs. Rawlinson was very much aware of certain interpersonal relationships obtaining in the house. There was no secret about such things.

  “I hope,” said Eve, “I will be of the Merchants. Their robes are yellow and white, or gold and white. I think I would look stunning in such robes.”

  Eve had strikingly dark hair.

  “I trust I will be of the Builders,” said Jane. “Their robes are yellow.”

  “Their official caste robes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “Goreans do not always wear their caste’s colors.”

  “I did not know that,” said Jane.

  Mrs. Rawlinson looked at me. “And you?” she said. “Perhaps you would care for the robes of the Scribes?”

  “No,” I said. “They are poor. I do not know why they are a high caste.”

  “Perhaps then,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “the green of the Physicians. They are a high caste.”

  “No,” I said. “They, too, are not rich enough. I gather their pleasure is in their healings, and not in their fees. They are too devoted to their work, to their research, serums, and medicines, and distributing the benefits of their administrations and learnings indiscriminately, denying such to no one.”

  “That is in their caste codes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “They are fools,” I said. “People sometimes need their skills and knowledge, even desperately. That is when they could make others pay, and well.”

  “Yet they seldom do so,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “To neglect such opportunities seems to me unwise, and scarcely comprehensible.”

  “The caste has its traditions, and codes,” she said.

  “Such practices, and refrainings,” I said, “seem an unlikely route to the prestige of a high caste.”

  “Perhaps,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “Where is their wealth, their power?”

  “The personal physicians of Ubars do well,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “But the others?” I said.

  “There are the traditions, the codes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “Wealth is power,” I said.

  “Only if it can purchase steel,” she said.

  “In any event,” I said, “I would like, like Eve, to be of the Merchants. Surely there could be more than one.”

  “Of course,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  I, too, had dark hair. I thought it would look well against white and yellow, or white and gold.

  I had little doubt that the Merchants was the wealthiest caste. It seemed to me, then, that it should be the highest caste. Of what value, for example, was the Scarlet Caste, the caste of Warriors, if not to protect the gold, the wealth, of the Merchants?

  “None of you,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “will be of high caste.”

  “But,” said Eve, “if we are of low caste, of the Metal Workers, the Cloth Workers, the Workers in Wood, the Leather Workers, the Bakers, the Tarnsters, or such, we would have to be placed lower at the tables.”

  “But,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “you will not be placed at the tables, at all. As mentioned, the lots will be arranged. It will seem that it was merely your fortune, a matter of chance, that the lots fell as they did.”

  “No!” said Eve.

  “Never!” said Jane.

  “Certainly not!” I said.

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “It will be your role to serve the feast. You will serve attentively, efficiently, and humbly. You will be alert to the needs of the guests, an empty plate, a glass in need of refilling. You will be swift to respond to summoning, of any sort, for example, to bring a laver of scented water to a place, that the guest may rinse his hands, or to lend your body, clothing, or hair, if a guest wishes, to wipe grease from his fingers. You will not speak unless you are spoken to. If spoken to, you will respond softly, with deference. Your head is to be lowered, unless you are ordered to raise it; you are not to meet the eyes of a guest, unless commanded to do so. You are to be self-effacing. You are prohibited from participating in the feast, in any way, either by eating or drinking, unless commanded by a guest. One may wish to feed you by hand, or cast scraps to the floor, which you are to retrieve on all fours, without the use of your hands. If a pan of water is set on the floor for you, you are to approach it on all fours, bow your head, and drink from it, humbly, as an animal. Each guest will be furnished with a switch, which he may use on you, if he is in any way dissatisfied with your service, or, if he wishes, for no reason at all.”

  “Never!” said Eve.

  “This is your punishment,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “There is still time for you to leave the house.”

  Jane began to sob.

  “The guests, and your sisters, will think this all a matter of the lots,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “Thus, in a sense, your fault, your punishment, will be concealed, and yet, in a way, its consequences will be well revealed.”

  “You would have us be as kajirae?” said Jane, aghast.

  “Slave girls—Gorean slave girls?” whispered Eve, scarcely daring to form the words.

  “Precisely,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “But the fellows would not stand for such a thing,” said Eve. “They would object. They would rush to rescue us.”

  “Do not be too sure of that,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “I think they will see it as all in the spirit of good fun. Too, I suspect that most will be pleased to see you, or any number of other young women, so. Further, the young men will be informed that any attempt to interfere with matters will result in their immediate ejection. I think things will go splendidly.”

  “How will we be clothed?” I asked.

  “I have decided that,” she said.

  “As I understand it,” I said, “kajirae are commonly clothed sedately, in long gowns, if with bared arms, at such feasts, that is, if free women should be present?”

  One scarcely dared conjecture how they might serve, if free women were not present.

  “Not always,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “particularly if the kajirae would be recent captures from an enemy city, or, say, enslaved rivals of the free women attending the feast, or such.”

  “I gather,” I said, “that we are not then to be allowed the dignity of lengthy, concealing gowns.”

  “No,” she said.

  “You would dare have us appear in public in less?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “No, no!” said Jane.

  “It is all in good fun,” she said.

  “How then,” asked Eve, “are we to be clothed?”

  “Obviously then,” I said, “in a garmenture appropriate to slaves.”

  “Tunics
, then,” said Jane, in misery, “tunics fit for slaves, slave tunics.”

  “I am sure,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “that you would all look quite fetching in such tunics, slave tunics, particularly of the sort designed by men, by means of which the beasts boast of the lineaments of their properties.”

  “I will never put such a thing on!” exclaimed Jane.

  “Never!” said Eve.

  “Never!” I said.

  “We might perish of mortification!” said Jane.

  “Scarcely so,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

  “Still!” I exclaimed.

  The thought of myself in such a garment was shocking, insupportable, so exhibited, so displayed! How unthinkable, would be such a thing!

  It would be as though I were a slave!

  “I gather, from men,” she said, “that such things are extremely attractive.”

  “They demean a woman,” said Jane.

  “How can one demean a slave?” she asked.

  “But you need have no fear,” she said. “I have no intention of putting you in slave tunics.”

  We exchanged glances, of relief.

  “You will not wear slave tunics,” she said.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rawlinson,” we said.

  “No,” she said, “you will not be allowed such dignity. You will serve in camisks, all of you, in the common camisk.”

  “Never!” we cried.

  “Remain on your knees,” she said.

  The camisk is a narrow rectangle of cloth, with an opening in the center. It is slipped over the head, and belted snugly, commonly with a double loop of thong or binding fiber, this fastened with a slip knot at the left hip, that it may be convenient to a right-handed man. The double loop provides enough thong or binding fiber to bind the occupant, helplessly, hand and foot. The slip knot at the waist of the camisk is similar to the disrobing loop at the left shoulder of some slave tunics, by means of which the garment may be conveniently removed, a simple tug loosening it, permitting it to fall gracefully about the ankles of its occupant.

  “We will never wear such things,” said Eve.

  “It seems expulsion is in order,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.