by John Norman
My master had said it was not coming, but how could he have known that, I now realized, at that particular time, without even looking up? No, he had known it was coming. When he had said that it had seemed, in my relief, that the entire physiology and tone of my body had changed. Perhaps this had suggested to the beast, by sight, and perhaps even by smell, that its presence was undetected, unsuspected, that we were unready, that we thought ourselves safe, that that was the moment to attack. Naturally it would wish to dispose of the man first. I, a female, unarmed and naked, if it were interested in me at all, could be left for later. I had even leaned forward, happily, clearing the path to him.
The two forms seemed very still now, near the remains of the fire, standing, hardly moving.
"Tuka," called my master, throatedly.
"Yes, Master!" I cried.
"Your permission to flee," he said, speaking the words one at a time, slowly, "is revoked."
"Yes, Master!" I cried elatedly.
I saw the long, hairy arms of the gigantic beast slowly relaxing their grasp on my master's body. The tunic was torn from his back. I did not know if he could stand without the support of the beast.
"Build up the fire," he said. His voice seemed strangely full and resonant. But, too, it seemed he could hardly speak.
I hurried to gather the scattered brands, and other wood, and thrust them to the fire. I attended also to the few remaining tiny flares of flame about, those left from the scattering of the fire. It was not difficult to extinguish these. I scattered some and heaped dirt on others. Some I stamped out.
Approaching the fire with an armful of sticks, from the pile to one side, gathered earlier in the woods by Tupita and myself, I saw the eyes of the beast turned upon me. I do not know if it understood what it saw. They seemed expressionless. It was still on its feet. From its chest there protruded the handle of a sword. It had been halted from further penetration by its guard. It had been, the force compounded by its own charge, driven through the body. My master stood back a bit, his tunic in shreds upon his back. His arms were bloody. His chest was bloody, too, though I think from the blood of the beast. He was trembling. The beast then sat down, back on its haunches, by the now built-up fire. It shook its head and bit at the fur on its arm, as though grooming itself. It then, slowly, lay down. The handle of the sword rose an inch or so, then, showing the blade, as the beast lay back. The point had apparently entered the dirt behind it, but, too, in virtue of this resistance, the blade itself, pressed up, emerged slightly from the body. The beast reached to the handle of the sword with its large hands, or paws, with those six, tentaclelike digits. They touched the handle but could not close about it. It then put its arms down, to the sides. Blood was at its mouth, and chest, from around the blade.
My master looked at me. He was breathing heavily. He was visibly shaken.
"Lie across it," he said, "on your back, with your head down."
Swiftly I put the sticks on the fire and lay across the beast, on my back, my head down. I was terrified. It was still alive. I could feel the heat of its body, its breathing, its blood on my back. My master's weapon was still in the beast. It was near my waist, as I lay, on my left. He was breathing heavily. He looked down at me. He then suddenly, rudely, fiercely, not sparing me, thrust apart my knees. We were alive, the two of us! We had survived! "Master!" I cried, impaled by, and submitting to, the beauty, the glory, the surgency of his eager, claimant, merciless, rejoicing manhood. And it was thus he took the slave, who was his, putting her to his pleasure on the body of the beast. This act, in its emotional power, its significance and complexity, was indescribable. It was an act of assertive aggressiveness, of vitality, of joy, of significance. It was a release from the fear of death, it was a thanksgiving for fate and fortune, it was an affirmation of life, it was the cry of a wild verr in the mountains, the leaping of a fish in the sea, the roar of the larl, the hiss of the sleen, the scream of a tarn in the sky. Only to those who have been closest to death is the value of life most clear.
He then, gently, drew me from the beast. He kissed me, and held me to him.
"Tomorrow we will leave the camp," he said.
"It was for this that you were waiting?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"It is dead," I said.
"Yes," he said.
He then drew his sword from the body of the beast, and cleaned it on its fur.
"You did not choose to leave an enemy behind you," I said.
"Nor did he," he said.
"Would it have followed you?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"You knew that it was about," I said, "because of the dust on the others, those in the meadow, their burial."
"I thought it would linger," he said. "The dust, of course, convinced me that my conjecture was correct."
"You seem to know something of these things," I said, shuddering.
"A little," he said.
"What is to be done now?" I asked.
"I shall take it to the meadow, and put it with the others," he said, "burying it, as it did them, with a handful of dust. After that there is the matter of the rites, of suitable purifications."
"It is only a beast," I said to him.
"No," he said, "it is more than a beast."
I looked at him.
"It was of the People," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Remain here," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
34
Love
"Master well knows how to use a slave," I gasped. "Will he not be merciful with me? What does he want of me? I am only a slave! Must he drive me mad with passion?"
"Be silent," he grumbled.
I twisted helplessly in the love chains. I jerked helplessly against them, the rings cutting into my ankles, pulling against my wrists. There are many varieties of such chains. These were simple and had been earlier taken from the wagon box of the slave wagon, the lid of which forms the wagoner's bench, part of the loot which my master had divided between himself and Mirus. Each consisted of a wrist ring and an ankle ring, joined by about ten inches of chain. My left wrist had been attached to my left ankle, my right wrist to my right ankle. I was on my back. A chain was also on my neck. It fastened me to a nearby tree, a yard or so from our blankets.
"You danced well, earlier," he said.
"Master!" I gasped. "Master!"
His tongue was incredible, so gentle, so subtle and yet so persuasive, so forceful, so irresistible.
"You are a hot slave," he commented.
Hot! I was flaming, and helpless!
He drew back a bit, amused.
Quickly I lifted myself piteously, suppliantly, to him.
"Is this how the women of Earth behave?" he asked.
"I am no longer of Earth," I said. "I am of Gor, and a slave! Be merciful, I beg it, to a helplessly aroused slave!"
He chuckled, the beast, at my discomfiture, and helplessness, and need!
"Please, please!" I begged.
"You are far from Earth now, and your library, slave," he said.
"Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" I said. "Please, please, Master!" I lifted myself to him in mute petition.
How he relished the power he held over me!
What ruthless, uncompromising, magnificent beasts men are!
How helpless they make us!
How they put us at their mercy!
How they treat us!
What they can do to us!
How they master us!
How we love them!
How grateful we are for our mastering!
How grateful we are for the collar of a master!
Nature has made us yours, I thought. Oh, masters, master us, yes, masters, please master us!
It is that which we need! It is that without which we cannot know ourselves! It is that without which we cannot be ourselves!
What is a woman without a collar, be it only a strand of leather knotted on her neck!
"Do you beg?" he asked.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Who begs?" he asked.
"Tuka, the slave of Teibar of Ar, begs!" I moaned.
Again his tongue touched me and I threw back my head and screamed with joy jerking against the chains. "Oh!" I cried. "Oh!" I shuddered, and thrashed and gasped. Then I lay quiet in his chains, looking up at him in wonder, in gratitude. I was his. My entire body was rich in the memory of what he had done to me, in one sense what he had made me beg for, in another sense what he had forced me to endure.
"I am yours," I said.
"That is known to me," he said. He then touched me again, this time gently, with his hand.
Again I looked up at him, helplessly.
"You are mine to caress," he said.
"Yes, my master," I whispered. Then he made me cry out, softly, and then turned me to my belly on the blankets, and lifted me to him. Then he permitted me to lie on my side, and I tried to kiss at his body.
"You are a grateful slave," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"And a passionate one," he said.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Where are the severe garments of the librarian?" he asked. He referred doubtless to the long-sleeved blouse, the dark sweater, the severe skirt, the low-heeled shoes, such things.
"I do not know, Master," I said.
"And where, too, now, is that librarian?" he asked.
"She who was that librarian," I said, "is here, but she is now only a naked slave, and she begs to kiss her master."
"She may do so," he informed me.
In a time, then, again, he aroused, he seized me and rose to his knees, and held me, he kneeling, I kneeling, and then he thrust me back, and my head was down, and he lifted me up, to him, he kneeling, and he then again, I so helpless, hanging back and down, put me imperiously to his pleasure.
"I did well to pick you out on Earth," he cried.
"Yes, Master!" I wept, loving and ravished, helpless and yielding, a slave, in his hands.
He then put me gently to my back and I looked up at him, in awe and love.
"You are a treasure," he said.
"A treasure," I laughed, "that may be purchased for something in the neighborhood of five silver tarsks!"
"Not from me," he said. "I would not sell you for a thousand."
"Mirus thought that Tupita was a thousand times more beautiful than I," I said.
"He was wrong," said my master.
"Thank you, Master," I said, pleased.
"She is no more than nine hundred times more beautiful than you," he said.
"Master!" I protested.
"To me," he said, "you are a thousand, thousand times more beautiful than she."
"Thank you, Master!" I purred.
"Kneel," he said.
I struggled to my knees.
"Do you know what time it is?" he asked.
"Late," I said.
"Are you chained?" he asked.
"Of course, Master," I said. I wore his love chains, and the chain on my neck fastening me to the nearby tree.
"Whose chains are they?" he asked.
"Yours, of course, Master," I said.
"It is past midnight," he said.
"Ah!" I said. When the recovery period pertinent to the collar of Ionicus had expired, I had been in the power of Teibar of Ar. Indeed, I had been literally wearing his chains. The legalities of simple slave claim, based on active proprietorship, had now superseded, with respect to that collar, the rights contestable by the sword under which I had hitherto been held, those of sword claim.
"Perhaps I will put love chains on you again," he said. "You serve well in them."
"Thank you, Master," I said. It was indeed my hope that he would do so again, and, indeed, put me in many different bonds, which, in their various ways, for various reasons, both physical and psychological, influence and condition the responses of the female.
He then removed the love chains from me, and tossed them to the side, among his things. He then, too, freed the neck chain from the tree, and then, in a moment, from my neck as well. He tossed the chain to the side, so that it lay with the love chains, among his things. He then lay back on the blankets, with his hands under his head. He looked up, at the moons. I knelt beside him.
"I am not chained," I said.
He was silent.
"Are you not afraid I will escape?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Do you want me to promise that I will not run away?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"A slave may not lie," I said. "She is not a free woman." Interestingly, on Gor, as on Earth, morality, for the most part, was not required of free women. They might do much what they pleased. On the other hand, slaves had no such liberties at their disposal. As they are owned, such things as honesty and truthfulness are required of them. Indeed, it is commonly expected of the Gorean master that he will take steps to significantly improve the moral character of his slave.
"Enter the blankets," he said. "Pull them up about us. The evening is cool."
"Perhaps I will try to escape," I said.
"Do you think it would be wise to attempt to escape from a Gorean master?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said, frightened.
"And do you think it would be wise to attempt to escape from Teibar of Ar?"
"No, Master!" I said.
"Lie down, here," he said.
"There?" I asked. "Beside you?"
"Yes," he said. "Why?"
"I thought you might chain me at your feet, sleeping me there, like a sleen," I said.
"Perhaps later," he said.
I snuggled up, against him. How huge and mighty seemed his body, that of this magnificent, primitive male, on this barbaric, beautiful world, and how small and soft I seemed next to it.
"Master," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"You told me earlier, at the fire, that 'he' was not coming," I said. "This relieved my anxieties. It assuaged my fear. I relaxed. I even bent forward."
"Yes," he said.
"You used me to lure the beast in, to the attack," I said. "You tricked me. You used me without my knowledge. You used me without taking me into your confidence. You used me as a slave!"
"Yes," he said.
But, of course, I thought to myself, he had used me as a slave. I was a slave!
"Master," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Tela would seek out Aulus, overseer of the work camp of Ionicus, near Venna. She is his love slave. Do you think she found him?"
"It is possible," he said. "I do not know."
"But Ionicus owns her," I said.
"If the fellow Aulus is the overseer," said my master, "he is doubtless empowered to buy and sell slaves from the chain. Thus, if he wants her, it would not be difficult for him to purchase her. Probably no more would be required than the transfer of a sum between accounts."
"But what if she did not come into his power?" I asked.
"Then," he said, "she has presumably been transported elsewhere, carried away in the chains of another, to a different fate, presumably never to see him again. She is, after all, only a slave."
"Yes, Master," I said. I was frightened. How much we were at the mercy of our masters! We were only slaves!
"Master," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"I am your slave," I said. "I am owned by you. You have total power over me."
"Yes?" he said.
"Will you be gentle with me, and kind to me?" I asked.
"You are a slave," he said. "You will be treated precisely as it pleases me to treat you."
"Am I to be permitted clothing?" I asked.
"
Only if it pleases me," he said.
"Am I to be often whipped?" I asked.
"When may a slave be whipped?" he asked.
"Whenever a master pleases," I said.
"That, then," he said, "is when you will be whipped, whenever a master pleases."
"Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master."
"You are a cuddly slut," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"You are very female," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"Are there many women like you on Earth?" he asked.
"I suppose so, Master," I said. "I do not know."
"It is incredible that there should be any," he said, "given the depth and extensiveness of the masculinist conditioning programs to which they are subjected, the values they are trained to accept, the seeking of which is reinforced, the models they are encouraged to emulate, the images which are held forth for them to fulfill, the manifold enticements and rewards offered for male surrogation, the contempt in which love and service, and biological womanhood, are held. It is as though all the forces of communication, education and law had gone insane, with no better objective than to bring the sexes to ruin, destroy the human gene pool and doom the species."
"Only there, Master," I said. "Not here."
"How is it that a woman like you should have come from such a place?" he asked.
"I am sure there are thousands, perhaps millions, like me," I said. "I think it must be the case that all women, at least when they are alone, know the truth, if only in their bellies."
"Perhaps," he said.
"You have done slaving on Earth," I said. "Apparently you find us not unattractive."
"True," he said.
"Once collared, do we not prove satisfactory?" I asked.
"You would be well whipped, did you not," he said.
"Even so!" I said.
"Yes," he said. "It is true."
"Freed, we will destroy you, and then ourselves," I said. "Kept in collars, we will worship you, and serve you well."
"Perhaps I will have you write your story, in English," he said.
"But who could read it, here?" I asked.
"I have been to Earth," he said. "I have seen works there dealing with my world."
