by John Norman
I heard bells coming, from down the corridor, from within. I was still on my knees. Sita hove into sight, returning to the floor. She paused, looking down at me, kneeling there, clutching the sheet about me, frightened. She was naked, except for her collar, and some beads, colorful, cheap wooden beads, slave beads, and her bells, on her left ankle. She regarded me, at her feet, contemptuously. I looked up at her, angrily. Why should she regard me so contemptuously? I was clothed. I had a sheet about me! She wore only her collar, and a few beads, and slave bells! "You're naked!" I said to her, angrily.
Swiftly she crouched down before me, and, with two hands, angrily, there in the hall, near the curtain, tore the sheet back, away from me, thrusting it back, and down, over my calves. "So, too, are you!" she hissed. About my neck had been slung several strands of beads, large, colorful wooden beads, slave beads, of different lengths. To some extent they concealed me, but they, other than my collar, were all I wore.
Then, it startling us both, we heard the ringing of the nineteenth bar.
She smiled at me.
Hastily I pulled the sheet up and put it about me as closely as I could, holding it even, in my two fists, high, about my neck.
I looked at her, frightened.
"In a bit," she said, "Tupita and I will put the leash cuffs on you."
She then rose up, quickly. Perhaps she had been away from the floor too long. She hurried through the beaded curtain.
I heard a man outside strike on the table with his goblet. "The nineteenth bar! The nineteenth bar!" he called. "The nineteenth bar has struck!"
"Bring forth the slave!" called another.
"Bring her forth!" called another.
Another man or two added to this din, by pounding their goblets on the tables.
I knelt back, out of sight, near the curtain, frightened, clutching the sheet about me. I was not to be brought forth immediately at the Nineteenth Ahn, Mirus had told me. It seemed that it was their intention that the men should wait, at least for a time. They wanted them, apparently, to be kept in suspense, to become eager and restless, perhaps even impatient. I was certainly in no hurry to be conducted onto the floor. On the other hand, I was frightened, too, if the men were too long kept waiting. Perhaps then they would expect too much. What if they were disappointed? I was a new slave, really. How could I please them, truly? I moaned softly to myself. I did not want to feel the lash.
The men seemed now to be fairly quiet outside. Perhaps most of them did not expect me, really, to be brought out on the stroke of the nineteenth bar. Perhaps those who had smote their goblets on the tables and called for me, had, as much as anything, been voicing a natural disgruntlement at the unwritten customs which seemed to govern such affairs, at the institution of a time to be set aside for the whetting of appetites. I supposed that there would have to be a judicious sense of timing involved in such matters, that the time must be long enough to bring the audience to a point of eager readiness, perhaps even impatience, without, on the other hand, dallying so long that they became unruly or hostile. I assumed that the house must know what it was doing in these matters. Doubtless I was not the first girl to be conducted out onto that floor, and probably not even the first Earth girl.
"How are you, Doreen?" asked small Ina, crouching down, solicitously, beside me.
I looked at her, gratefully. "All right, Mistress," I whispered.
"Good," she smiled, reassuringly.
Ina did not care in the least, really, I was sure, whether I called her "Mistress" or not, but we had both agreed, two weeks ago, when we had become friends, both of us in the kitchen, that it would be better for me to do so, as I was the newest girl. We were both afraid that if I called her by her name, and someone heard, I, and Ina, too, if she had not imposed discipline, would have been punished. For example, we would not have wanted to let either Tupita or Sita catch us in such a negligence.
"Have you had your slave wine?" asked Ina.
"Yes," I said. This is not really a wine, or an alcoholic beverage. It is called "slave wine," I think, for the amusement of the masters. It is extremely bitter. One draught of the substance is reputed to last until the administration of an appropriate "releaser." In spite of this belief, however, or perhaps in deference to tradition, lingering from earlier times, in which, it seems, less reliable "slave wines" were available, doses of this foul stuff are usually administered to female slaves at regular intervals, usually once or twice a year. Some girls, rather cynical ones, I suspect, speculate that the masters give it to them more often than necessary just because they enjoy watching them down the terrible stuff. This is unlikely, however. There are cheaper and more easily available ingredients for such a mode of discipline than slave wine.
"Good," said Ina. "There is then nothing to worry about."
I looked at her. It had not occurred to me, really, that I had "nothing to worry about."
"The time to worry," said Ina, "is if they decide to make you a breeding slave."
I nodded.
"You must then drink the releaser," she said.
I nodded, numbly.
"I have been told it is quite good," she said.
I looked at her, with horror.
"Really," she said.
"I am sure it is," I said, weakly.
Slave wine makes sense in a slave-holding culture, such as Gor. The breeding of slaves, like any sort of domestic animals, and particularly valuable ones, is carefully controlled. As a slave, of course, I could be bred, or crossed, when, and however, my master might see fit. It is the same as with other animals.
I lifted my head a little.
Outside the men were becoming impatient. I could hear the striking of goblets more often now on tables. I heard some shouting.
When the girl is taken to the breeding cell or breeding stall, she is normally hooded. Her selected mate is also hooded. In this fashion personal attachments are precluded. She is not there to know in whose arms she lies, or piteously, and in misery, to fall in love, but to be impregnated. And in accord with the prescribed anonymity of the breeding, as would be expected, the slaves do not speak to one another. They may be slain if they do. Their coupling is public, of course, in the sense that the master, or usually, masters, and sometimes others, whether in an official capacity or not, are present, to make any pertinent payments or determinations.
The men outside, it now seemed to me, were becoming unruly.
"Do not be afraid," said Ina.
"What are men like?" I asked Ina.
"They are glorious, and our masters," said Ina.
"That is not what I mean," I protested.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"What will it be like?" I asked. "Will they hurt me?"
"I suppose some of them may hurt you," she said. "And I suppose any of them would hurt you sometimes. But you must expect that. You are only a slave."
"I do not mean that," I said. I knew, after all, I was a slave. I knew that I must strive to be pleasing to masters, and perfectly so. I knew that I was subject to discipline. I knew I might be, and would be likely to be, punished for the least infraction in my discipline, the least imperfection in my service and the least failure in my pleasingness. Indeed, I knew that, as a slave, my master did not even need a reason for punishing me. He could punish me for no reason at all, unless perhaps it might simply be that it pleased him to do so then, or, say, it occurred to him to do so then.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Bring out the virgin!" cried a man.
"Get the white-silker out here," called another. "Let us see her!"
"I mean will they hurt me!" I moaned.
"You mean when they open you?" she asked.
"Yes!" I said.
"Probably not," she said. "But you may be sore."
"I see," I said.
"Oh," smiled Ina. "You really mean, in general, do you not? What it is like?"
I put down my head.
"You silly virgin," said Ina. "You re
ally don't know, do you?"
"No," I said.
"Tonight," she said, "will doubtless be hard. Do not worry about tonight. It is the first time. Just try to survive. Tonight it will doubtless be like when a city falls, or one is used for a sex feast."
I looked at her, not even understanding her.
"But wait, slave," she laughed. "Later it will be quite different."
I looked at her.
"Later, Doreen," said Ina, smiling, "you will beg and scratch for it."
I heard the men shouting outside now. They seemed angry. Then I saw Tupita and Sita coming through the beaded curtain. They carried certain objects.
"Put your wrists out," said Tupita.
The sheet fell a little. Tupita fastened a leather cuff on my right wrist. It was not a lock cuff. It buckled shut. It did have a snap ring on it. Sita fastened a similar cuff on my left wrist. Both of them carried long leather leashes. Tupita, with the snap ring on the leash, fastened the leash to my right cuff, and Sita fastened the other leash on my left cuff. The snap rings on the cuffs themselves, of course, make it possible, if one wishes, for the cuffs to be linked together.
I saw the legs of a man. I looked up, and then, swiftly, the palms of my hands on the floor, the cuffs on my wrists, put my head to the floor before him. Tupita and Sita, similarly, rendered immediate, fearful obeisance.
"Stand," said the man, "all of you." We then stood before Hendow, our master. Behind him was Mirus. Mirus had a canvas sack slung at his belt. Two of Hendow's girls, Aynur and Tula, were behind Mirus. Each of them carried a deep copper bowl. Aynur's bowl was empty. Tula's was filled with oval, narrowly slotted ostraka.
"Hold the sheet closely about you," said Tupita.
I needed no urging to comply with this request.
Hendow regarded me, possessively. He owned me. Tonight, too, he planned on making money on me.
"You have pretty feet, and ankles, and calves, Doreen," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
The sheet I clutched about me so desperately, came a little below my knees. It was of white silk.
My master stood near me. I trembled.
Tupita and Sita, holding the leashes to my cuffs, stood nearby. Ina, too, was there.
My master took the edges of the sheet I held about myself and pulled it a little to the side, and down, revealing my shoulders. He took from his wallet a ribbon. It was about a foot long, and an inch and a half in width. He looped it about my collar, and jerked it down, snug. The ribbon, like the sheet, was of white silk.
I heard the men clamoring outside.
"Do not be afraid," he said.
"No, Master," I said.
He nodded to Mirus.
Mirus, followed by Aynur and Tula, made his way through the beaded curtain. In a moment I heard him quieting the crowd, which was becoming unruly.
The musicians, now, five of them, came from down the corridor. They waited within the curtain.
"Sight unseen," called Mirus to the crowd, "who will try the luck of the first ostrakon? Only a tarsk bit each! Who is first? Who is for the first ostrakon? You, sir! Yes! And you the second! The third! Yes. And you! And you!"
I listened to him selling the ostraka.
"Some men," said Hendow, "think the first ostraka are luckiest."
"You!" called Mirus. "Yes! And you, yes! Yes!"
In a little bit the first flurry of sales had lessened.
"Now," said Hendow, "we come to the more cautious buyers, those who would like to purchase early ostraka, but would appreciate a bit of reassurance. Too, we have now done, presumably, with the fellows who would buy a chance on anything, as long as it is a chance, and, too, those fellows to whom a virginity in itself, regardless of whose it is, is of great interest. They would take a chance on the virginity of a tharlarion."
"Yes, Master," I whispered.
"We have not seen this slave," said a man. "Is she any good?"
"Tell us of her," called another man.
"She is described in the handbills," said Mirus.
"Is she any good?" called the first man, again.
"Tell us of her," called the second man, again.
"Her hair and eye coloring, and complexion, and height and weight, are as mentioned in the handbills," said Mirus. "Other pertinent measurements, too, as you may recall, are specified in the same bills."
I blushed, looking down.
"Is she any good?" repeated the first fellow, insistently.
"She has a lovely face and form," said Mirus.
"But is she any good!" laughed the man.
"That you may determine promptly and firsthand, if you win," called Mirus.
There was laughter.
"Seriously," said Mirus, "understand that this is only a virgin slave. In that sense, she will not be much good, probably not for a few weeks. Remember it is only her virginity we are raffling off tonight."
"Yes, yes," agreed several fellows.
"True," called the first man.
"But she is beautiful, and unusually desirable," said Mirus. "Surely it would be a triumph to open her."
I clutched the sheet more closely about me.
"She is a treasure," said Mirus, "and, in time, we expect her to become exceptionally good."
"She is an Earth slut," called a man. "It says so on the handbills. They are all frigid."
"But you know as well as I," called Mirus, "that they do not stay that way."
"True," laughed the fellow.
There was general laughter.
I clutched the sheet more closely about my neck.
"We know you, Mirus," said a man. "What do you think of her?"
"She was purchased by my employer, your host, master of this tavern, Hendow," said Mirus. "I think you know well his taste and expertise in selecting women."
This point seemed to have its effect with the crowd.
"What of you, Mirus?" pressed the fellow who had asked the original question. "What do you think of her?"
"I would purchase an ostrakon, myself, or several," said Mirus, "but if I, an employee of the tavern, were to win, you would all, would you not, every one of you, suspect collusion and duplicity?"
"Yes," said a fellow. There was laughter.
So, I thought to myself, it was not my imagination. Mirus did desire me. That, doubtless, was why he had so suddenly turned away from me last night.
"And so," said Mirus, "I can wait."
I shuddered. I had not thought of it much, but it was true. After tonight, I would be only another of Hendow's girls. I would not only have been "opened" for his customers, but I would be available as well, as a matter of course, to his men. The use of a tavern's girls is one of the perquisites of employment in such a place. After tonight, I would have to serve Mirus, and the others, as they might want me. I recalled that in the house of my training the "opened" girls had been available to the guards. The kitchen master, too, I knew had had his eye on me. Usually, laboring there, on our knees, bending over the low, steaming tubs, our arms immersed in the suds to our elbows, cleaning pots and pans, he had had Ina and I remove our kitchen tunics. He had used Ina several times. I swallowed hard. Doubtless I would be put back in the kitchen from time to time. He was probably waiting for me.
"I will take an ostrakon!" called a fellow, he, I think, who had asked Mirus his opinion of me.
"And I!" said another. "And I," called several others.
"Yes, astute sirs," said Mirus. "Come, sluts," said he, doubtless to Aynur and Tula, carrying their bowls.
In a bit, then, these sales had been made.
Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made their way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being tuned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer's fingers light on the taut skin of his inst
rument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythms, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then, I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for.
Then the musicians were silent.
"Let us see her," called a man.
"Bring her out!" called another.
"Bring her out!" called yet another.
I heard the pounding of goblets on the tables.
"Bring her out!" called another man. "Bring her out!" called another. "Bring her forth!" cried another.
