by John Norman
Imnak's hand was hard upon my arm.
The man then put his weapons near the rear wall of the feasting house and walked, carrying the sack he had brought with him, to the clearing on the dirt floor. There, not speaking, he shook loose from the sack, causing it to fall to the dirt, the head of a large, white-pelted Kur, an ice beast. In its ears were golden rings.
I looked at Imnak.
"It is Karjuk," he said.
24
We Hold Converse in the Hut of Imnak;
A Decision is Reached;
I Permit Arlene to Share my Furs
"It is fortunate for me, perhaps," said Ram, to Karjuk, in Imnak's hut, "that you were trailing the ice beast and managed to kill it." He looked at the severed head in the corner of the hut. "I would hate to meet it again."
Karjuk nodded, but did not speak.
He had cut the rings from the ears of the beast, and had given them, with Imnak's permission, to Poalu, who now wore them on her left wrist, as bracelets.
Before she had put them on her wrist I had held them, looking at them closely, and weighing them in my hand.
"Are you sure," I asked Ram, "that this is the head of the beast who attacked you?"
"Could there be more than one such beast," he asked, "with rings in its ears?"
"It does not seem likely," I admitted. I had examined the head with great care, the ears and the mouth in particular.
"I had followed the beast for days," said Karjuk. "I trailed it to where I encountered sled tracks, and blood in the snow, and the trampling of the snow by many feet."
"That would be where it had attacked my sleen and sled," said Ram, "and where the men from the village came to rescue me."
"I then trailed the beast further, some pasangs across the snow. It had been wounded twice, and was found feeding on the carcass of a snow sleen with harness marks in its fur."
"That then is the same beast," said Ram, "assuredly."
"I then slew it," said Karjuk.
I sipped my Bazi tea, and looked at him, over the rim of the bowl. He, too, looked at me, and sipped his tea.
The girls, Poalu, too, remained in the background, in case the men should need aught. The white-skinned girls did not go close to the severed head. Poalu, a woman of red hunters, had no fear or repulsion concerning the object. Bones, and blood and hide, and such things, were a part of her world.
"Have you heard aught, Karjuk," I asked, "of a mountain of ice, an ice mountain in the sea, which does not move?"
"In the winter," said Karjuk, "the mountains in the water do not move, for then the sea is frozen."
"Have you heard of such a mountain which does not move, even when the sea flows?" I asked.
"I have not heard of such a mountain," he said.
"I told him there could be no such thing," said Imnak.
"But I have seen it," said Karjuk. He had spoken with the literalness of the red hunter.
We were all silent.
"There is such a thing?" said Imnak.
"Yes," said Karjuk. "It is far out to sea, but once, in sleen fishing, I paddled my kayak about it."
"Is it large?" I asked.
"Very large," he said.
"How can there be such a thing?" asked Imnak.
"I do not know," said Karjuk, "but I know it exists, for I have seen it."
"Have others, too, seen it?" I asked.
"Perhaps," said Karjuk, "I do not know."
"Could you take me to it?" I asked.
"It is far out on the ice now," he said.
"Could you take me to it?" I asked.
"Yes, if you wish," he said.
I put aside my tea. "Fetch my pouch," I said to Arlene. She hurried and brought the pouch to me.
I drew forth from the interior of the pouch the carved head of a Kur, wrought in bluish stone, that savage head with one ear half torn away.
"Is this your work?" I asked.
'Yes," said Karjuk, "I made that."
"Did you ever see such a beast?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Where?" I asked.
"Near the mountain that did not move," he said.
"Is it the head of an ice beast?" I asked.
"No," he said. "It was too darkly pelted to be an ice beast."
"Could you lead me soon to the mountain that does not move?" I asked.
"It is the night now," said Karjuk, "and the time of darkness. The ice is dangerous. It is at this time that the ice beasts sometimes come inland."
"Yet you will lead me there, will you not?" I asked. I smiled.
"Yes," said Karjuk, "if you wish."
"That is my wish," I said.
"Very well," said Karjuk.
"There will be little danger if Karjuk is with us," said Poalu. "He is the guard."
"I will come with you," said Imnak.
"You need not do that," I said.
Imnak looked at the severed head of the white-pelted Kur. It was difficult to read his face. "No," he said, "I will come with you."
Karjuk sipped his tea.
"I, too, of course, will accompany you," said Ram.
"Will you trade Bazi tea to the ice beasts?" I asked.
"I am coming," said Ram.
"Very well, my friend," I said. I looked at Karjuk. "When shall we leave?" I asked Karjuk.
"I must finish my tea," he said, "and then sleep. We may then leave."
"Would you like the use of any of my women?" asked Imnak of Karjuk, indicating Poalu, and Thimble and Thistle.
"Or the use of my pretty slave?" I asked, indicating Arlene.
Arlene drew back. She was frightened of the thin, dour Karjuk. Yet she knew that at my slightest word, should I speak it, she would have to serve him, fully, for she was slave.
Karjuk looked at Poalu, in the two golden bracelets, which had been rings in the ears of the slain Kur. The rings, as bracelets, were pretty on her small red wrist. She was a lovely red slave.
She drew back a bit.
"No," said Karjuk.
He finished his tea and then crawled into furs on the sleeping platform. The others, too, prepared to retire.
"Let us not bring the girls with us," I suggested to Imnak.
"No," said Imnak. "We will bring them. Who else will chew the ice from our boots, and sew for us, and boil meat and tend the lamps, and keep us warm in the furs?" He rolled over in the furs. "We will take snow sleen and women," he said.
"Very well," I said. I did not think, objectively, there would be great danger for the women. If what I suspected was true, uses would be found for them. They were all beautiful.
"Master," whispered Arlene.
"Yes," I said.
"May I crawl into your furs?" she asked.
"Are you cold?" I asked. She had her own furs. Sometimes she had to sleep alone, as when I was sleeping with Audrey or Barbara.
"No, Master," she whispered.
"Your need to serve a man is hot on you, Slave?" I asked.
"I am frightened," she said.
I held open the furs and let her creep into them, beside me. I held her, under the furs, in my arms. She trembled, small, against me.
"I'm frightened," she whispered, her face, so soft, against my chest.
"Of what are you frightened?" I asked.
"Of Karjuk," she said, "and of going out on the ice." She held me, closely. "What will you find there?" she asked.
"I do not know," I said.
"You search for the headquarters of those who were my superiors, do you not?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "Slave."
"They must assuredly be dangerous," she said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"Avoid them then at all costs," she said. "Flee to the south," she whispered.
"Do you beg it?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"No," I said. "Your will means nothing."
She sobbed.
"Do you know the nature of those who were your superiors," I asked.
>
"No," she said.
"Look," I said to her, taking her head and turning it, so that she might see, in the dim light of the lamp, the head of the Kur. "They are much like that," I said.
She half choked with horror. "No," she said.
"It was such as they whom you, when free, served, my lovely slave beauty," I said.
"No, no," she whispered.
"But, yes," I smiled. "It is true."
"What will be done with you, if you fall into their hands?" she asked.
"I do not know," I said. "I suspect it would not be pleasant."
"What would they do with me, if I fell into their hands?" she asked.
"Perhaps you would be restored to all your rights and privileges," I said, "and would again become an operative for them."
"I failed them," she whispered.
"That is true," I said. "Perhaps they would find some other tasks for you to perform."
"Like what?" she asked.
"You would look well," I said, "in a wisp of slave silk and a steel collar."
"They would keep me as a slave?" she asked.
"I am sure you were brought to Gor, ultimately, to be a slave," I said. "You are too beautiful to be indefinitely left free."
She held me.
"Your beauty, you see," I said, "has a cost on this world. Its price is your freedom. Beauty, and exquisite femininity, such as yours, buys for itself on this world chains and a master."
"I am going to say something to you," she said, "which I had never thought I would say to a man."
"What is that?" I asked.
"I would love to wear your chains, Master," she whispered. Then she sobbed, shaken with the horror of this confession.
"Do not weep," I said. "It is only that you are a slave." I kissed her. "Would you lick and kiss your chains?" I asked.
"Do not make me do that," she begged, turning her head aside, weeping.
"It is not my intention to make you do that," I said.
"I do not know what I would do if you were to throw your chains to my feet," she said.
"I know what Audrey would do," I said.
"Yes," said Arlene, bitterly, "so do I, the little slut. She would kneel, and lift them, and lick and kiss them."
"I think so," I said.
"What a slave she is," said Arlene.
"Her intelligence," I said, "is fully comparable to yours, and may be superior," I said.
"That is what I cannot understand," said Arlene. "How can a woman of her intelligence be such a slave—so much a slave—so fully and completely, so helplessly and perfectly, so willingly and gladly, a slave?"
"Perhaps her intelligence frees her to be more quickly and honestly responsive to her deepest needs," I said. "Perhaps she is quicker to recognize her deepest feelings, and more willing to accept them, than a duller woman, or perhaps only a more constricted woman. Often the superior woman searches, lonely and frustrated, for a man superior to herself, who can be a full man to the hidden woman in her. Unfortunately many who could be a man to the woman in such a female do not, because of their training and conditioning, become so. When the superior woman does meet a man superior to herself, who will also, simply because he is a true man, put her in the authentic biological male/female relationship where she belongs, at his feet, she will generally, unless there are mitigating psychological reservations, functions of her own conditionings, submit herself joyfully to him as what is, for all practical purposes, his slave. On Gor, of course, men have not been conditioned against the authentic biological male/female relationship, at least where female slaves are concerned. Similarly, on Gor, a woman, collared, is not permitted psychological reservations or that sort of thing. Her will is nothing. Also, the society backs the master. The girl has absolutely no one to call. She has absolutely nowhere to run. She has no recourse. She is an owned slave. She is that and nothing else."
"It is very frightening," she said.
"And for many women," I said, "very thrilling."
"Yes," she whispered, softly, "it is very thrilling. I do not know why it should be, but it is very thrilling."
"In your heart," I said, "you know you are a woman. Thus, when you find you simply will be given no alternative other than being a true woman, in the full sense of the word, designed by nature as a love slave for males strong enough to master you, you cannot help but be thrilled. You are forced to be yourself, your true self. There is a joy in this, and a liberating honesty, and openness; it is natural that this be felt as exciting, as genuine, as authentic, as real, as significant, as true, indeed, as profoundly and thrillingly true. Gone are the politically and economically motivated lies; gone is the cant and hypocrisy. Present then is the sweet thrilling truth, at last freed, no longer suppressed and hidden, and love."
"Please kiss me, Master," she said.
I kissed her.
"Are you going to keep me, Master?" she asked.
"I do not know," I said. "But do not fear, lovely slave. On this world there are hundreds of thousands of men fully capable of mastering you. You will someday, doubtless, given the sellings and exchanges, and your growth in skills and beauty, find love."
"A woman desires love," she whispered.
"Love is found more often among slave girls than free women," I said. "If you would learn love, learn slavery."
"Yes, Master," she said. She kissed me.
"Please me," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
The lamp went out softly in the darkness. This frightened her. "Must you go out on the ice?" she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"Are you going to take me with you?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I am afraid," she said.
"Do not be afraid," I said to her.
"I cannot help it," she said.
"Please me in the darkness, in the furs, Slave," I said.
"Yes, my master," she said.
In a few minutes I took her in my arms and threw her to her back. She gasped. "I thought I was to please you," she said.
"You are pleasing me," I said.
"You are making me yield," she said, intensely.
"That pleases me," I said.
Then she began to buck and writhe and was soon lost in the throes of the slave orgasm, helplessly yielded to her master. She came silently, intensely, clutching me, this not known to the others asleep in the hut. That a slave girl had been conquered in the darkness need not be known to them.
Afterwards I held her, naked, closely, warmly.
After a time she whispered, "I want to be touched again."
"Do you beg it?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Your will means nothing," I said.
"I know," she said.
"But I will touch you," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said. Soon again she squirmed in silence, taken, in the furs in the hut of Imnak.
"Thank you, Master," she whispered, afterwards. "You give a girl much pleasure."
"Sleep now, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I do not know how long we slept, but it was perhaps no more than two or three Ahn. I awakened, conscious of her holding me. Her head lay on my belly. She was not asleep. "Master," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
She knelt beside me. "Please, Master," she said.
"Is your need to serve a man hot upon you?" I asked. I could tell that it was from her breathing.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You are a slave," I said.
"Yes, I am a slave, Master," she said.
"Very well, Slave," I said. "You may serve me."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
Soon I marveled at her skill. It was all I could do to keep from crying out with pleasure and delight, and my pride in the skill of the slave I owned. How proud I was of her! She was for most practical purposes untrained and new to the collar and yet many girls whom I had had, even in paga taverns, I suspect
, could not have equaled her performance.
"What is going on with you?" I asked.
"I do not understand," she said.
"What has happened?" I asked. "What has gone on in your head, pretty slave?"
"I do not understand," she said.
"I went to sleep with a pot wench," I said, "and I awaken with a pleasure slave."
She laughed. Then she said, soberly, "I love being a slave, Master."
"That is well," I said, "for on this world you are a slave, and you are going to continue to be a slave."
"Yes, Master," she said, trembling. Then she said, "I am content, Master."
"Continue your work, Slave Girl," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I then let her pleasure me, fully, not so much as touching her, that she might learn to please completely, without being so much as granted the least kiss or caress of the male beast. Slave girls are forced thus, sometimes, to serve, totally, unilaterally; it helps to impress their slavery on them.
She then lay beside me.
"Do you still love being a slave girl?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"But I did not so much as touch you," I said.
"Oh, sex is terribly important," she said, "and you may use it as you do, you beasts, to conquer and discipline us, and make us your sex slaves, but, too, there are other things in slavery which are perhaps harder for you to understand, for you are not the woman."
"What can there be," I asked, "other than chains and the whip, the kiss and the collar?"
"You men are so simple, so naive," she laughed. "You do not even understand the fullness of the power you hold over us. Slavery is not a mere condition; it is a kind of life. The woman is not simply a slave when you seize her and throw her to your feet. She is a slave, too, before this, and after this, subject to your will, and knowing it. There is a wholeness, a fullness, a beauty in a woman's being a slave, of which I fear you may be unaware."
"Perhaps," I said.
