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

Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt Page 26

by Kajira of Gor [lit]

enslaved.”

  “Of course,” said the second girl, shuddering.

  “And remember that they hate you,” said the first.

  “I know,” said the second.

  A man stepped out, into the center of the lane. I stopped, frightened. But his

  attention was on another.

  “Yeela,” said lie.

  A girl, addressed by a free man, fell to her knees before him.

  “I have paid fee for you,” he said.

  “it is early, Master,” she laughed. “Would you lie to a poor slave?”

  “Perhaps,” lie said.

  “If you have not, know that you will be charged,” she laughed. “I am not for

  freel”

  But then he had crouched down and taken her in his arms. She was thrown beneath

  him, grasping at him, to the dirt. Frightened, I took my way about them. I tried

  to hide among other girls. I hoped that no man would decide to pull me out from

  among them.

  “What is for breakfast?” I heard one girl asking another.

  “I have heard,” said the other girl, who was a shorter one, “that each of us

  will have five berries put in our gruel this morning.”

  “Good,” said the first.

  Alp

  “If no bad reports are received on any of us,” added the second.

  “I was pleasing,” said the first.

  “So, too, was I,” averred the second.

  “If Jasmine is not fully pleasing again,” said the first girl, “I think I will

  pull her hair out.”

  “And so, too, will the rest of the chaint” laughed the second girl, the shorter

  one.

  Jasmine, I suspected, would soon learn to be pleasing. Certainly it would be in

  her best interests to be so. She would probably have to spend at least a portion

  of every day within the reach of her chain sisters. Doubtless soon she would be

  begging them for counsels in sensuality, for tricks and techniques, that she

  might improve herself and become less inadequate as a slave.

  “He took away my clothes,” one girl was telling another, “but then he did not so

  much as touch me. He made me serve him, rather, in small and menial ways. I must

  cook Sullage for him. Then I must launder and iron a tunic. Then I must dust his

  goods and clean and tidy his tent. Then I was made to sew, and then clean and

  polish his leather.”

  “And how did you feel,” asked the girl to whom she was speaking, “performing

  these small tasks for him, suitable for a slave?”

  “Gradually, serving him helplessly, then lovingly in these fashions, I became

  more and more aroused,” she said. “Then, finally, after the polishing of the

  feather, I could stand it no longer. I threw myself to my belly before him,

  juicing like a larma.”

  “Did he then content you?” asked the other girl.

  “Yes,” said the girl, “though the brute made me squirm a little first.”

  How well that master had understood sex, and the sexuality of the female, I

  thought. He apparently understood something of the pervasiveness and totality of

  female sexuality. They had been, in their way, having sex together for hours,

  before he even touched her. Well had he understood the woman, and her needs and

  desires to be pleasing, and to submit and serve in many ways. It was the total

  woman, in her wholeness, which he, to her joy, had chosen to dominate.

  How terrible, I thought, to be a slave!

  “Would you like to be sent again to his tent?” asked the other girl.

  “Yes,” said the girl. “Yesl Oh, yesl”

  What a meaningless slut she wasl How pleased I was that I was not a slave!

  “You, Slave!” called a voice.

  I stopped in my tracks. I put my fists before my mouth, in terror, but, too, to

  hide my neck.

  “Not you, you!” said the voice.

  I quickly hurried on, trembling. It seemed that any moment I must be discovered.

  “I must see him again,” the girl in front of me was saying.

  “Why?” asked the other.

  “I think he is my love master,” she breathed.

  “It is more likely that you are his love slave,” laughed the other.

  “He must call for me again!” said the girl.

  “You are, of course, entitled to hope that,” said the other, “when you lie

  alone, chained in your place.”

  “He must!” she wept.

  “Perhaps he will have you summoned again to his tent,” said the second girl.

  “I must see him again!” she said.

  “That will be decided by masters,” said the second girl. How horrifying to be a

  slave, I thought. How pleased I was that I was not a slave.

  Swiftly, then, seeing more men waiting further down the lane, sonic with loops

  of chain in their hands, I slipped to the side between the tents. I could see

  women lining up down there, too, being put in wrist or throat coffle, each one

  doubtless reporting in, and in the proper position, to the appropriate slave

  master.

  I skirted a large cooking area. I could smell freshly baked bread, and the

  cooking of eggs and meat.

  I made my way among tents, every sense alert, sometimes crawling on my hands and

  knees.

  It was still quite dark. Here and there, there were morning fires. The moons

  were down.

  I cried out in misery. A sleen, snarling, leapt toward me, but was stopped by

  its chain.

  I continued on my way, treading narrow valleys between mountains of sacks,

  narrow aisles separating cliffs of boxes.

  “Where are you going, little lady?” called a fellow from above me.

  He was standing on boxes, carrying a box. I had not even seen him.

  “The chains,” he said, “are behind you and to your right.”

  Swiftly I sped away, in the general direction he had indicated. Then, when I was

  confident I was out of his sight, I resumed, as nearly as I could, given the

  bundles, the boxes and crates, my original direction.

  Then I found myself in a blind alley, a place where the passage was closed by a

  sheer wall of boxes, several feet over my head. I hurried back and tried another

  passage. It, too, to my misery, was blocked. Then I suddenly realized I had lost

  my direction. Between the boxes, at places, darknesses in the darkness, there

  were narrow cracks. I did not know which ere passages and which were mere places

  where several boxes had been removed. I struck with my fists at the wall of

  boxes.

  Then, suddenly, I heard a tarn scream, and not more than o or three hundred

  yards away.

  Too, I saw a lantern approaching behind me.

  I darted through an opening, came to a wall, and crouched between two boxes.

  I saw the light of the lantern on the boxes ahead of me, a WO it was lifted at

  the passage I had entered.

  “She came this way,” said a voice.

  I heard the two men entering the passage.

  “There she is!” said one of them. I gasped, in terror.

  Then I heard a sudden scrambling. “I’ve
got you, you little she-sleen!” he said.

  I heard a small body flung to the dirt. Then I heard the snapping on of slave

  bracelets.

  “Turn her over,” said a voice.

  I heard a body moked.

  “She’s a pretty one,” said a voice. “Read her collar.”

  “Our little thief is Tula, of the chain of Ephialtes,” said the other voice.

  “I stole nothing, Masterl” cried the girl.

  “Thrust up her tunic,” said the first voice. “Now split your I legs, Tula. Good

  girl. Now, what were you saying?” girl

  “It was only one pastry, Master,” said the girl. “For all Tula! Do not beat

  herl”

  “Keep those legs wide, Tula,” said the first voice. con

  “Yes, Master,” whimpered the girl. imp

  I then listened, with misery, while the two men, one after hap the other, in the

  narrow passageway between the boxes, used brutal, forceful use of her almost

  overwhelmed me psychologically. How helpless, how dominated are slavesl I

  touched then myself. To my horror, I, too, was wet. I gritted my teeth. I her

  hoped they could not smell me. I trembled. I tried not to feel, with

  It was almost as though they, in inflicting themselves on that pathetic slave,

  were subjecting me, as well, to those in so debasing, masterly thrusts. Yet, of

  course, they were not, pum in this, to my scandal, I felt keen frustration. I

  found myself, envying her. I wondered what it would be like to be held not in

  the arms of such brutes, a cringing vessel for th pleasure, choiceless but to

  rhapsodically succumb. time forced such thoughts from my mind. Surely I must n

  such thoughts. Surely they were appropriate only for a slave

  I looked up, miserably. The sky was becoming gray n

  In a few minutes, perhaps, the cage would be lowered.

  my absence would be noted. girl.

  Me entire camp, then, and its vicinity, I did not doubt, would be subjected to

  an inch-by-inch search, one that it uld be impossible to elude.

  I had failed to escape.

  “On your feet, Tula,” said one of the men.

  “Tula has served you well, has she not?” begged the girl. I heard her pull at

  the slave bracelets.

  “Put down her tunic,” said the first man.

  “There,” said the second.

  “When we called to you to stop, Tula,” said the first man, “you ran. Have You

  ever run away before?”

  “I was not really running away,” said the girl. “I just did want you to catch

  me.”

  “Must a question be repeated?” asked the first man.

  “No, Master,” she said, quickly. “I have never run away before!”

  That is fortunate for you,” said the man. shuddered, crouching between the

  boxes. The first time a runs away she is commonly only beaten. Many girls, m

  they first go into a collar, do not realize that escape, for practical purposes,

  is impossible for them, or how easily, imonly, they can be picked up and caught.

  The practical ~ossibility of escape is a function of several factors. Perhaps

  one of the most important among them is the closely nature of Gorean society. In

  such a society it is difficult to establish false identities. Other factors

  which might be A are the support of the society for slavery, the absence i place

  to run, so to speak, and the relentlessness with such slaves are commonly

  sought.

  Other factors are such as the distinctive garb of the slave, the encirclement of

  neck with a collar and the fact that her body is marked t a brand. The best that

  a slave can commonly hope for is she might fall into the power of a new master.

  The usual punishment for a girl’s second attempt at escape is hamstring the

  severing of the tendons behind the knees. This does completely immobilize the

  girl, for she may still, for cxle, drag herself about by her hands. Such girls

  are sometimes used as beggars, distributed about a city by wagon in morning, and

  then picked up again at night, with what earnings they may have managed to

  obtain during the

  You will not beat me though, will you?” wheedled the

  “No,” said the first man.

  “Thank you, Masters!” said the girl

  “You have, however,” said the man stolen a pastry, lied to me about it to us,

  and run away.”

  “You said you would not beat me!” protested the girl.

  “We shall not,” said the man. “Ephialtes might.”

  “Do not tell him, I beg you!” she cried.

  “Do you really think that you can do the things you have done with impunity,

  you, a slave?” asked the man.

  “No, Master,” she wept.

  “We have discovered you have a taste for sweets,” said the and man.

  “Ephialtes will discover if you have a taste for leather.”

  “Have pity on me, Masters,” she wept. “I am only a mg helpless, braceleted

  slavel” I

  “Turn about, Tula,” said the man. “You are on your way back to your master.”’

  As I heard them leaving, I looked about the corner of my hiding place. I saw two

  large men. Preceding them, her hands locked behind her in slave bracelets, was a

  beautifully shaped little slave. She had dark hair. Her slave tunic, which was

  extremely short, was red.

  I followed the men down the passageway. I stopped once, when they stopped, to

  extinguish the lantern.

  Following them I came to an opening between the through which they had taken

  their way.

  They had led me out of the maze. bacl

  I then saw many wagons and could smell tharlarion, and straw. I made my way

  swiftly through this area.

  I then stopped, startled. ‘Me great cry of a tarn smote

  I fell to my hands and knees as two men passed, on the other side of a wagon.

  I rose up and sped as furtively and swiftly as I could toward the area from

  which I had heard the bird’s scream. I said stopped, seeing a bird take to the

  air, a tarn basket, on long The ropes, trailing behind it. I put out my hands.

  There seemed to M be a platform in front of me. It must have been fifty yards

  char long. On it there seemed to be two broad, leather skids. On these skids,

  some twenty yards or so in front of me, there. by were four or five tarn

  baskets. I heard the snapping of wings I saw ropes being fastened between the

  tarn and the et now first in the line. I crawled forward and, as the were

  concerned with the tarn, it moving about and occasionally stretching and

  snapping its wings, crawled into the basket. Within that basket was a blanket,

  one which had ably been used to cover some cargo brought to the camp.

  w the blanket over me and lay quietly in the bottom of basket.

  was becoming lighter now, and I was becoming more

  iore afraid.

  ave myself little chance to escape, but I could do noth-

  ore. I had done all that I could.

  seemed I lay there for an Ahn. The heavy fiber of the

  et cut into my skin. I did not, however, so much as

  Then other tarns w
ere brought, one by one, to the

  rm. The other baskets were lofted away. Mine only, it

  ed, remained.

  o where is Venaticus?” said a man.

  leeping one off,” said another fellow.

  angled up in the chains of some slave,” suggested an-

  think it will be another warm day,” said a fellow.

  ood,” said one of the men. “Then they may have the

  s down on the slave wagons.”

  hen we dismantle,” said a man, “you could always drift

  in the march and see Lady Slicila. She is a pretty little

  in her cage.”

  hey are all pretty in chains and behind bars,” said an-

  man.

  hate to think of them shoving an impaling spear up her

  said a man.

  know an impaling spear I’d like to shove up her ass,’

  nother man.

  ere was laughter.

  n may do with us what they wish, I thought. Our only

  e is to turn them against themselves, and use them for

  purposes. But in this we frustrate nature, that of men and

  rselves. How can we win, then? Perhaps, I thought, only

  sing. But these thoughts were more appropriate to Earth

  Gor. It did not seem possible to turn the men of Gor

  st themselves. Perhaps they were less simple than the

  Earth, or more simple, more basic and natural. They

  at any rate, never permitted themselves to be tricked out

  of their natural rights and powers. The conniving woman of Gor, she who would

  seek to control and manipulate men, likely to soon find herself at the feet of

  her would-be victim naked, kissing them, locked in his collar.

  There seemed suddenly a storm of wings in the air, beard the striking of tarn

  talons on the platform. Men, a St immediately, began to work about the basket. I

  felt the basket move as ropes were fastened, on it and jerked tight. There was a

  tiny space between two folds of the blanket, through Which I could see, looking

  then through an opening in the weaving of the basket. With two fingers I drew

  the blank more together.

  “Your face is smeared with lipstick,” said a man, “and y stink of slaves and

  paga.”

  “I cannot explain that,” said a fellow, as though puzzle “for all night I have

  rested comfortably in the tent of cargo riders.”

  “The company will not be pleased,” said a fellow. “if you slept a wink last

 

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