Dancer of Gor

by John Norman

I looked at him, startled.

  "Yes," he said.

  "But how could they know?" I asked. "How could such things get to Earth?"

  "I am not sure," he said. "I think perhaps they are put on the platforms outside the palisade of the Sardar Mountains, for Priest-Kings. Then perhaps the Priest-Kings see that they reach Earth."

  "I do not think there are such things as Priest-Kings," I said.

  "Some people," he said, "do not believe the beasts exist."

  "Do such exist on Earth?" I asked.

  "I think some," he said, "probably exiles, and the offspring of exiles, marooned criminals, beached on a foreign world, degenerate scions of the People, and such."

  "Where?" I asked.

  "In lonely areas," he said, "the mountains of Asia, the forests of the Pacific Northwest, and such."

  "If such works exist," I said, "then some women must know that there is such a world as Gor."

  "Or that there might be such a world," he said. "Did you know of it?"

  "No!" I said. "Do they know that such slaving occurs?"

  "Some, perhaps," he said. "On the other hand, such books are generally regarded as fiction. It is better that way, don't you think?"

  "I don't know," I said, frightened. I touched my right hand to my breasts, so soft, and my left hand to my collar. I was now a Gorean slave. Would it have been better on Earth if I had known such things were possible, or had it been better if, as in my case, I had not even suspected their possibility? I did not know. But, in any event, I was now here, and in a collar.

  "We will leave in the morning," he said.

  I wondered what sort of man he was, this magnificent, formidable brute to whom I now belonged.

  He had not even given me clothing!

  "Master keeps his girl naked," I pouted.

  "Sometimes a bit of clothing looks well on a female," he said, "if it is sufficiently revealing, and can be swiftly removed, or torn away."

  "Master?" I asked.

  "For example," he said, "some of the lingerie, as you call it, with which you Earth females delight to secretly bedeck yourselves, concealing it beneath the camouflage of your prescribed habiliments."

  "I am no longer an Earth female," I said, kissing him.

  "Such garments," he said, "though perhaps too indecent for the streets or market place a Gorean master might require of his slave in the privacy of his own quarters."

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "—if he permitted her clothing, at all," he added.

  "You took away my slave strip, and my belt of rolled cloth," I said. "They were almost nothing, but they were all I had to cover myself."

  "That was in accord with my decision," he said, "that for the time being, at least, you will be kept naked."

  "I shall be proud to walk naked behind you, on the road," I said.

  "My pack is not heavy," he said.

  "I shall carry it?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said. "Of course."

  "May I ask where we are going?" I asked.

  "I am going to my small villa, deserted now, in the hills northeast of Ar," he said. "You will simply follow, as my draft animal."

  "Does master have other slaves?" I asked, apprehensively.

  "You will learn," he said.

  I moaned.

  "No," he laughed.

  I cried out with pleasure, and kissed him, happily, in relief. "I will be a thousand slaves to you!" I said.

  "Yes," he said. "You will. I will see to it."

  "Yes, Master," I said, happily. I kissed him, again, delightedly.

  "At my villa, too," he said, "I will decide whether I will keep you or sell you."

  "Master!" I protested.

  "Perhaps you will endeavor to be such that I will decide to keep you," he said.

  "Master may be assured that I will do my best," I said. "I shall earnestly endeavor to be pleasing to him in all respects!"

  "I think you will like the villa," he said. "It is not large, but it is, I think, quite lovely. It is white, with a small court, and stuccoed walls. There is a porch which overlooks a little valley. It is quiet and secluded. It has a lovely setting, hidden in the hills. I withdraw there, from time to time."

  "I shall endeavor to serve master well there," I said.

  "In such a place, too," he said, "it might not be inappropriate to have a slave write her story."

  "Do you wish to have me do so, Master?" I asked.

  "I have not decided," he said.

  "In the first house of my slavery," I said, "I was given a series of injections. I am curious about them. Were they inoculations against diseases?"

  "I know those you mean," he said. "No, they were the stabilization serums. We give them even to slaves."

  "What are they?" I asked.

  "You do not know?" he asked.

  "No," I said.

  "They are a discovery of the caste of physicians," he said. "They work their effects on the body."

  "What is their purpose?" I asked.

  "Is there anything in particular which strikes you generally, statistically, about the population of Gor?" he asked.

  "Their vitality, their health, their youth," I said.

  "Those are consequences of the stabilization serums," he said.

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "You will retain your youth and beauty, curvaceous slave," he said. "That is the will of masters."

  "I do not understand," I said, frightened.

  "Aging," he said, "is a physical process, like any other. It is, accordingly, accessible to physical influences. To be sure, it is a subtle and complex process. It took a thousand years to develop the stabilization serums. Our physicians regarded aging as a disease, the drying, withering disease, and so attacked it as a disease. They did not regard it as, say, a curse, or a punishment, or something inalterable or inexplicable, say, as some sort of destined, implacable fatality. No. They regarded it as a physical problem, susceptible to physical approaches. Some five hundred years ago, they developed the first stabilization serums."

  "How could I ever pay for such a thing!" I gasped.

  "There is no question of payment," he said. "They are given to you as an animal, a slave."

  "Master," I whispered, awed.

  "Do not fret," he said. "In the case of a woman from Earth, like yourself, they are not free."

  "Master?" I asked.

  He took my collar in both hands, and moved it in such a way that I could feel how sturdily, and obdurately, it was locked on my neck. "For a woman such as you," he said, "their price is the collar."

  "Yes, Master," I said. The serums, in that sense, did indeed have their price. We paid for them with the collar. It was with a strange feeling that I realized that even if I did not wish it so, even if I vehemently desired otherwise, my youth and beauty would continue to remain fresh and lovely for Gorean masters. Not even for it was there an escape! It, too, was "collared."

  I shuddered, considering the effects of the stabilization serums.

  "What is wrong?" he asked.

  "Nothing, Master," I said. I scarcely dared to cope with even the thought of the serums. I had not understood their effects. Perhaps my master was mistaken! I must think of other things!

  "Master," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "You seemed to be familiar with the beasts," I said. "Were you once associated with them?"

  "Yes," he said.

  "Are you associated with them any longer?" I asked.

  "No," he said.

  "Are the beasts," I asked, "involved in the slaving?"

  "In a way, yes," he said. "They provide, for the most part, the means for conducting the trade."

  "The trade?" I asked.

  "The slave trade," he said.

  "Of course, Master," I said.

  "Do not grow arrogant at the thought of the stabilization serums," he said.

  "Arrogant?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said. "Keep clearly in mind that regardless of their
value or benefits from your point of view, they have other consequences as well. For example, you will continue to be of interest to masters, you will continue to excite them, you will continue to be the sort of woman they want for their collars and chains. As you remain as you are, so soft, so lovely, so attractive and desirable, you must expect to continue to face the risks and perils attendant on your beauty, on a world such as this, where it is a common mode of currency, a familiar means of exchange, where it may be used to bribe traitors, and be given to heroes as a reward, where it is a prize for courage and audacity, where it may count as tribute to conquerors, where it can be used to bargain for cities and states, and where it is bought and sold in markets."

  "Yes, Master," I whispered. Perhaps I was a terrible person, but I did not mind the thought of being exciting and beautiful. Perhaps it was fitting then that I be punished with bondage.

  "You are a beautiful slave," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," I said.

  I wondered if my master was weak. Some men are very strong with men, and yet weak with their women. He had just said I was beautiful. That was surely a compliment. Surely it indicated some interest in me, or approval of me, surely in at least one respect. He had said I was beautiful. Could I not then, though it was I who was in a collar, make use of his feelings to own him? Too, he had followed me for months, over thousands of pasangs. He must like me then, at least a little. That seemed likely. Indeed, he must care for me. I suspected that perhaps he even loved me. Perhaps I could make use of that. I wondered if he was weak. It would not hurt to test him. I knew that some girls twisted their masters about their little fingers. I wondered if I could do that. "Master," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "I am not a common Gorean girl," I said. "You know that I am from Earth."

  He was silent.

  "We are going to leave the camp tomorrow," I said. "I would like to have some clothing. I could make a tunic from a blanket, as Tupita did."

  "Had you not heard my decision, announced to you earlier," he inquired, "that for the time being, at least, you were to be kept naked?"

  "Yes, Master," I said. "But I do not wish to be kept so. I would like some clothing. Perhaps you could change your mind."

  He was silent.

  "I would kiss you very well," I said, "if you would give me some clothing."

  "For a highly intelligent woman," he said, "you are unutterably stupid."

  "Master?" I asked.

  "Perhaps it is your femaleness," he said.

  "Master?" I asked.

  "Kiss me now, with perfection, or die," he said.

  "Yes, Master!" I said.

  "Swallow," he said.

  I did so, terrified.

  "I wondered how you might behave," he said, "if I gave you even a hort of room, even an Ihn of indulgence."

  "Master!" I wept.

  But he had then seized my wrists and, with a thong, bound them together, before my body. He then dragged me toward a low-hanging branch and tied my hands, so bound, over my head to the branch. "No, Master!" I cried. "Please, Master!" He then whipped me. He then, angrily, released me from the branch, I blubbering and weeping, half in shock, and dragged me back to the blankets. There he threw me to the foot of the blankets and chained me there, hand and foot. I looked up at him, in terror. Then, angrily, he lay down on the blankets, drawing them about himself, to sleep. "Master," I begged, "may I speak!"

  "No," he said.

  I lay there in misery until morning. He was my master. I loved him! I loved him more than anything! But I had failed my first test with him! I had only wanted to know, foolishly, the nature of my power with him, if any, and the nature of the discipline to which I might be subject. I had only wanted to know if, truly, I was his slave or not. Then he had made me serve him, uncompromisingly. Then he had whipped me and put me chained at his feet. The library was indeed faraway, and I was indeed his slave! I had asked earlier if I was not to be slept at his feet, as might be a sleen, and he had said, "Perhaps later." Why had I not understood then that my behavior was under scrutiny, that he was even then inquiring into the qualities and nature of me? I was in misery, and overcome with contrition. How badly I had behaved! I had failed my first test with my master, whom I loved! Yet, too, I felt grandly and warmly reassured as to his strength and dominance. I knew then my master was master, that he would never relinquish his sovereignty, that he was a true man. I was content now, and eager, a female, to be his perfect slave. If I had failed his test, he had passed mine. To be sure, I was aware that there might be continuing penalties attached to my having displeased him. I wanted so to sleep next to him, or at his thigh, but instead, now, I might indefinitely be slept at his feet, as a sleen or dog, or as less, as a female slave. But I would rejoice to be even so near to him! Too, perhaps I might be often whipped. I did not know. Too, perhaps, now, I would be indefinitely denied clothing. All such things, of course, were within the will of Teibar of Ar, my master. A little before morning, I fell asleep. When I awakened I discovered that a blanket had been put over me.

  "Master," I said. "I beg forgiveness."

  He bent over me and removed the chains. Swiftly, tears in my eyes, I knelt before him. I then, unbidden, contritely, timidly, lovingly, kneeling before him, kissed him, serving him with all the sweetness, delicacy and perfections I could. I then swallowed, and looked up at him, hoping to find some particle of forgiveness or kindness in his eyes.

  "Cook," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  In less than an Ahn I knelt beside his pack. He looked about the camp, and extinguished the fire. He kicked dirt over its remains. He then turned about, and looked at me. To my surprise, he seemed amused. "Did you satisfy your curiosity last night, Tuka?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  He had realized then, well enough, what I had been doing! Could I have no secrets from such a man? Was I so open to him then, in my mind, as well as, by his decision, in my beauty?

  "And have you learned your lesson?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Speak," he said.

  "I have learned my lesson, Master," I said.

  "To my feet," he said.

  I approached him and put my head down, humbly, over his feet. I then pressed my lips to his feet. I then kissed and licked his feet, slowly, tenderly, submissively. It is a common form of slave obeisance. I was thrilled to perform this act for my master. I was grateful to him, that he permitted me, so unworthy a slave, this deference. I did not want him to be angry with me. I loved him! I wanted him to care for me, if only a little! I thought of the library, and Earth. How right it was, I thought, that I should be naked at the feet of such a man. How glorious it was that he had made me his slave! How few women of Earth, I thought, had known the joy of being taken in hand and mastered! How I pitied the women of Earth, so confused and unhappy, so miserable and not knowing why! How fitting, and marvelous, I thought, that I, on this world a property, such that it could be bought and sold, should be rendering this obeisance to my master! What could one such as I be to such a man but a slave? Before him I knew I could be only a slave, and I wanted that, to be the slave of such a man, and to be his slave.

  I hoped that I might please him, as his slave.

  To perform this act, too, was arousing to me.

  Doubtless he was well aware of that, what was occurring in the little beast at his feet!

  My belly and thighs were heated.

  Submission opens the gates of female need. The petals of her sexuality spread helplessly with her response to male dominance. Female sexuality burgeons with surrender, and who can be more surrendered than a slave?

  He was my master!

  I was owned by him!

  Had he touched me I would have wept and moaned to serve.

  "It is enough," he said.

  I lifted my head, permitted, and looked up at my master. In my eyes, I feared, were the helpless tears of an adoring slave.

  "Your e
ars are pierced," he said.

  "Yes, Master."

  "So it seems," he said, "that you cannot be all bad."

  "I am pleased," I said, "if even by such a small thing I may please my master."

  "We shall get you some earrings," he said, "but they will not be valuable ones, for you are a low slave."

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Too," he said, "we would not want you stolen for the value of your earrings."

  "No, Master," I said, smiling.

  "You are dangerous," he said. "One might grow fond of you."

  "Master!" I breathed.

  Might I hope that he might, sometime, care for me, if only a little, though I was no more than a slave?

  But now, caring or loving aside, I was aroused. Surely he knew that the obeisance of kissing and licking the master's feet, even cleaning them with the soft, moist slave tongue, was arousing to a slave? Surely he knew that. Doubtless that was why he had ordered me to his feet. Doubtless he was now amused by the agitation and discomfort of a slave, at the keenness, the intensity, of her arousal. How pathetic and weak I was! Must he not despise me for my needs? I could no longer control my passions. I wore a Gorean slave collar! I was no more than a vendible beast at his feet, in whose belly slave fires had been kindled. I was not a free woman! How could he care for one who was now no more than a helpless, uncontrollably impassioned animal?

  But do men not want us such, so much theirs?

  How far away was the library!

  He looked at me.

  He, a Gorean male, well knew my need, and torment.

  He smiled, the brute.

  I wanted him to touch me!

  He knew this.

  I was slave hot.

  He knew this.

  "May I speak?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "A slave begs to be caressed," I said.

  "You are bold," he said.

  "May not even a sleen whine to be caressed?" I asked.

  "Doubtless," said he.

  "Master!" I pleaded.

  "You will wait," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said, tears in my eyes.

  The brute! The brute!

  He then busied himself, readying things for our departure.

  I whimpered, and approached him on all fours. I rubbed against him, timidly.

  In such ways may a slave call herself to her master's attention.