Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt Page 15

by Kajira of Gor [lit]

  “It is fortunate for you,” said the voice within me, “that Drusus does not know

  that you are a slave.” “I am not a slave,” I said, aloud. “I am not a slave!”

  “Remain where you are, at the foot of the couch, until morning,” said the voice

  within me. “I will,” I said, frightened. I had then fallen asleep. To my

  embarrassment I was still there in the morning when I awakened, Susan having

  entered the room. “I must have moved about in my sleep,” I said to Susan. “Yes,

  Mistress,” she had said, her head down, smiling. I had considered whipping her,

  but I had not done so. “What is it like, being owned, and having a master,” I

  had later asked Susan, while being served breakfast, as though merely curious.

  “Consider yourself as having a master, and being owned,” said Susan, “that you

  are totally his, and that he may do with you, fully, whatever he wants.” I

  shuddered. “it is like that,” she said, “only it is real.” “I see,” I had

  whispered.

  I stood on the riser, behind the parapet.

  “I hear it again,” I said, “that sound, as of metal, from within your cloak.

  What is it?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  On Gor my entire mind and body, in the fullness of its femininity, had come

  alive, but yet, in spite of my new vitality and health, I was in many ways

  keenly miserable and unfulfilled. On Earth, in its pollutions, surrounded by its

  crippled males and frustrated women, exposed to its antibiological education and

  conditionings, subjected to the perversions of unisex, denying their sexuality

  in its fullness to both sexes, the nature of the emptiness in my life, and its

  causes, had been, in effect, concealed from me. I had not even been given

  categories in terms of which I might understand it.

  Where I bad needed reality and truth I had, been given only lies, propaganda and

  false values. Here on Gor, on the other hand, I *was becoming deeply in touch

  with ‘my femininity.

  as keenly and deeply, never on Never on Earth had I felt it Earth had I been so

  deeply sensitive to it, so much aware of its needs, delicacy and depth. But here

  on Gor I was clearly aware of my lack of fulfillment, instead of, as on Earth,

  usually only vaguely or obscurely aware of it. What had been an almost

  unlocalizable malaise on Earth, except at certain times when, to my horror, I

  had understood it more clearly, on Gor had become a reasonably clearly focused

  problem. On Earth it had been as though I was miserable and uncomfortable

  without, often, really knowing why, whereas on Gor I, bad suddenly become aware

  that I was terribly hungry. Moreover, on Gor, for the first time, so to speak, I

  had discovered the nature of food, that food for which I so sorely hungered, and

  the exact conditions, the exclusive conditions, perhaps so humiliating and

  degrading to me, yet exalting, under which it might be obtained. Such thoughts I

  usually thrust quickly from my mind.

  “You are right, Drusus,” I said, suddenly. “Slaves are unimportant. They are

  nothing.”

  “Of course,” be said. “But what has brought this to mind?”

  “A conversation I had this morning with that little chit of a slave, Susan.”

  “Ob,” be said.

  “It is unimportant,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Do you know her?” I asked.

  “I have seen her, yes, several times,” be said.

  “What do you think she would bring?” I asked.

  “She is a curvaceous little property,” be said, “and seems to understand herself

  well, and the fittingness of the collar on her beck.”

  “Yes?” I said.

  “Three tarsks, perhaps,” he said.

  “So little?” I asked, pleased.

  “Three silver tarsks, of course,” said he.

  “Oh,” I said, angrily.

  “There is little doubt what she would look like at the slave ring,” he said,

  “and, too, she has doubtless received some training.”

  I did not doubt but what Susan, the little slut, had received sonic training.

  There was not a detail about her which did not seem, in its way, a perfection.

  This morning she had again, in entering my quarters, discovered me near the foot

  of the couch. Usually, early in the morning, before she entered, I would try to

  be elsewhere.

  “I do not know what is wrong with me,” I confessed to her, desperately needing

  someone to talk to, as she served my breakfast. “I sometimes feel so empty, so

  miserable, so uncomfortable, so meaningless, so restless.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” she had said, deferentially.

  “I just do not know what is wrong with me,” I had lamented.

  “No, Mistress,” she had said.

  “You,” I said, “on the other hand, seem contrastingly content and serene, even

  fulfilled and happy.”

  “Perhaps, Mistress,” she smiled.

  “What is wrong with me?” I asked.

  “Your symptoms are clear, Mistress,” she said.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “I have seen them in many women,” she said.

  “And just what is wrong with me?” I asked, irritably.

  “I would prefer not to speak,” she said.

  “Speak!” I had said.

  “Must IT’ she asked.

  “Yesl” I said.

  “Mistress needs a master,” she said.

  “Get outl” I bad screamed, leaping to my feet, kicking aside the small table,

  sobbing. “Get outl Get outt”

  The girl had fled from the room, terrified.

  I bad sobbed then in the room, and thrown things about and run to the wall, and

  struck it with my fists, weeping.

  “No!” I bad cried. “That is stupid, stupidl She is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong,

  wrong!”

  Only later had I been able to wash and compose myself, and prepare to accompany

  Drusus Rencius to the height of the walls, to enjoy the view, as we had planned.

  I had recalled that he had not, initially, wished to take me to the walls, and

  then, rather suddenly, it had seemed, had agreed to do so.

  “I am a larger woman than Susan,” I informed Drusus Rencius, on the wall,

  acidly. “I am taller, and my breasts are larger, and my hips are wider.”

  “These things being equal, such things might somewhat improve your price,” he

  admitted

  “I scorn slaves,” I said. “I despise them.”

  “Quite properly,” said he.

  I looked out, over the wall.

  How pleased I was that I was freel How frightful, how terrible, it would be, to

  be a slave!

  “Is Lady Sheila crying?” he asked.

  “No!” I said.

  I fought the wild needs within me, seeming to well up from my very depths, needs

  which seemed to be to surrender, to submit and love, totally. irreservedly,

  giving all, asking nothing. How super
ficial, suddenly, seemed then the

  dispositions to selfishness and egotism in me. From whence could these other

  emotions, so overwhelming within me, have derived, I asked myself. Surely they,

  frightening me in their way, seemed directly at odds with the Earth

  conditionings which I had been subjected. I feared they could have their source

  only in the very depths of my nature and being.

  I dabbed at my eyes with the corner of my veil. “I am not crying,” I said, “It

  is the wind.” I then turned about, to look back from the wall over the city of

  Corcyrus. “Here,” I said. “That is better.”

  The tarns on their perches were now on my left.

  I looked over the roofs of Corcyrus. I could see, among trees, the various

  theaters, and the stadium. I could see the palace from where we stood. I could

  see, too, some of the gardens, and the-roof of the library, on the avenue of

  lphicrates.

  “The city is beautiful,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said, joining me in surveying it.

  I was in love with the Gorean world,-though I found it in some ways rather

  fearful, primarily, I suppose, because it permitted female slavery.

  I wondered if Susan were right, if J needed a master. Then I put such thoughts

  from my mind, as absurd.

  I was not a cringing, groveling slave, a girl locked in a collar, who must hope

  that some brute might see fit to throw her a crust of bread. I was quite

  different. I was a woman of Earth. I was proud and free. Indeed, on this world I

  even enjoyed a particularly exalted status, one a thousand times beyond that of

  my imboDded sisters in the city below. I was a Tatrixl

  I looked down from the wall, over the many roofs of Corcyrus.

  Why was Susan happy, and I miserable? She was only a collared slave. I was free.

  I surveyed Corcyrus. In the Gorean world, and I sometimes still had difficulty

  coping with this comprehension, female slavery was permitted. How horrifying!

  Yet something deeply within me, undeniably, was profoundly stirred and excited

  by this comprehension. This stirring within me troubled me. It did not seem to

  be a response which I had been taught.

  “There is the palace,” said Drusus Rencius, pointing.

  “I see,” I said.

  Given the sovereignty of males in nature, general among the mammals and

  universal among the primates, it was natural enough, I supposed, that in a

  civilization congenial to nature, rather than in one opposed to it, that an

  institution such as female slavery might exist. This might be regarded as the

  civilized expression of the biological relationship, a recognition of that

  relationship, and perhaps an enhancement, riefinement and celebration of it,

  and, within the context of custom and law, of course, a clarification and

  consolidation of it. But why, I asked myself, irritatedly, should a civilization

  be congenial to nature? Is it not far better, I asked my self, for a

  civilization to contradict and frustrate nature; is it not far better for it to

  deny and subvert nature; is it not far better for it to blur natural

  distinctions and CODfUse identities; is it not far better for it, ignoring human

  happiness and fulfillment, to produce anxiety, guilt, frustration, misery and

  pain?

  “There is the theater of Kleitos,” said Drusus Rencius, “the library, the

  stadium.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  But whatever might be the truth about such matters, or the optimum ways of

  viewing them, female slavery, on Gor, was a fact. There were, as I had long ago

  learned, slaves here. I looked out, over the city. In the city, within these

  very walls, there were women, perhaps not much different from myself, in

  collars, who were literally held in categorical, uncompromised bondage. I had

  seen several of them, in their distinctive garb, in their collars. I had even

  seen one who, naked and in her collar, had been locked in an iron belt. Such

  women were owned, literally owned, with all that that might mean.

  “There, where you see the trees,” said Drusus Rencius, “is the garden of

  Antisthenes.”

  “How many slave girls do you suppose there are in Corcyrus?” I asked, as though

  idly.

  do not know,” he said. “Probably several hundred. We do not count them.”

  “Do such women seem happy?” I asked.

  “As they are only slaves,” said Drusus Rencius, “their feelings and happiness

  are unimportant.”

  Of course,” I said. Men arie such brutest How helpless are the slavesl

  “There, where you see the trees,” said Drusus Rencius, again, “is the garden of

  Antisthenes.”

  “Yes,” I said. We had visited it twice. It was there, on our second visit, that

  I had first tried to entice Drusus Rencius to kiss me. The second time had been

  after we had witnessed the fencing matches. I had been rejected both times. I

  wondered if I would have been rejected had I been a collared slave. To be sure,

  he might have made ‘me whimper and beg for his kiss.

  I rejected an impulse to kneel before Drusus Rencius. How I hated himl

  6 The Sirik

  “There are places you have not taken me in Corcyrus,” I reminded him.

  “Perhaps,” he granted me.

  “There was a place two days ago,” I said, “which we passed in the afternoon.”

  “Surely you heard the music which was coming from within?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. It would not be easy to forget that music, so melodious, so

  exciting and sensual.

  “A girl was dancing within,” he said. “It was a paga tavern.”

  “You did not let me enter,” I said.

  “Such girls often dance in little more than jewels, or chains,” he said. “It is

  better, I think, too, that free women not see how they look at men and bow they

  move before them.”

  “I see,” I said. “And bow do men find such women?”

  “It is in the best interests of the woman,” said be, “that the men find her

  pleasing, very pleasing.”

  see,” I said, shuddering. I wondered if I could be pleasing to a man in that

  way, dancing before him, and then, later, if he had paid my owner my price, in

  an alcove. Most girls in such a place, I had heard from Susan, but generally not

  the dancers, came merely with the price of the drink itself. I supposed that if

  one were a dancer, and was then serving in an alcove, an additional price having

  been paid for one’s use, one would have to strive to be particularly good.

  Gorean men, I was sure, would see to it that they got their money’s worth.

  “Sometimes I feel sorry for slaves, mere slaves,” I said.

  “Do not,” lie said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “As you suggest,” he said, “they are merely slaves.”

  “Of course,” I said, bitterly.

  “Does Lady Sheila identify with slaves?” be asked.

  “No,” I said. “Of course nott”

  “Good,
” lie said.

  “Why is it good?” I asked.

  “It is said,” he said, “that she who identifies with slaves wants the collar on

  her own neck.”

  “No!” I cried.

  “It is only a saying,” he said. “Another such saying is that she who identifies

  with slaves is a slave.”

  “Absurd!” I said.

  “Doubtless,” lie said.

  “But if I were a slave,” I said, poutingly, “I suppose I would have to obey. I

  would have to do what I was told.” I stood quite close to him. I was quite small

  compared to him.

  His size and masculinity made me feel weak.

  “Yes,” he said, looking down into my eyes. “In such circurnstances, you would

  have to obey. You would have to do what you were told.”

  I turned away from him, suddenly, frightened, and looked again out over the

  wall, toward the fields. The tarns, now, were again on my right.

  “It is fortunate that I am not a slave,” I laughed.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Soldiers, too, are to obey, are they not?” I asked.

  “Lady?” he asked.

  “Hereafter,” I said, “when I wish to go somewhere, or do something, I shall

  expect you to respect my wishes.”

  “If Lady Sheila is dissatisfied with my services,” he said, “she need only call

  this to the attention of Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus. A replacement,

  perhaps one more pleasing to her, may then be assigned.”

  “N”ile you are assigned as my guard,” I said, “you will obey me. I shall decide

  if, or when, you are relieved of your duties, or even if you are to be

  discharged entirely from the service of Corcyrus.”

  “Yes, Tatrix,” be said.

  “Your services are not entirely displeasing to me,” I said, “but it is my

  intention to see that they are improved. I am Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “Yes, Tatrix,” he said.

  “Should I wish to enter a paga tavern, for example,” I said, you will accompany

  me.”

  “In most paga taverns,” he said, “free women are not permitted. In some they

  are.”

  “I see,” I said. To force an entry to such a place, I then understood, might

  necessitate an altercation, one perhaps ensuing in the exposure of my identity

 

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