"Thigh," I said.
The dark-haired woman turned immediately to her side, exposing her left thigh to me. There was a chain on her neck, run to a stake near the wagon. A small copper bowl was beside her.
"Thigh," I said, to the other woman, also dark-haired, but smaller. With an exciting, sensuous movement she exhibited her thigh. She was confined as was the other. Beside her, too, on the ground, was a small copper bowl.
"Ephialtes!" I called.
A brunet in a brief, yellow slave tunic looked about the wagon. She saw me and immediately knelt, seemingly frightened, though for what reason I could not guess. "Master!" she called.
In a moment Ephialtes, the sutler, came about the wagon, from the other side of it, where they were cooking, where they had their small camp.
"Tarl, my friend!" said he.
We clasped hands, then embraced.
"It is good to see you, my friend," I said.
"How have you been?" he asked.
"Very well," I said, "and yourself?"
"Excellent," said he.
"Splendid," I said. "How is business?"
"One tries, desperately, to make a living," he said.
"There is gold thread on your tunic," I said.
"Yellow thread," he said.
"Your pouch seems full," I said.
"Tarsk bits," he said.
"I think your fortunes have improved," I said.
"If that is so," he said, "I think you have made your contributions to such matters."
"And the needs of the troops of Cos," I said.
"Of course," he said.
"These are excellent times for a sutler," I said, "what with the numbers of men about, and the success of Cos."
"I speculate those with the troops of Ar are doing less well," he said.
"Some have probably brought their goods to Brundisium," I suggested.
"It is true," he whispered.
Wagons, of course, might be painted different colors. Accents could be feigned, and so on. Sutlers were, on the whole, fellows of business, and could scarcely be blamed for seeking favorable markets.
Ephialtes glanced down at the two women on the ground, chained by the neck to stakes on this side of the wagon, the copper bowls near them.
"Amina," said he, "Rimice, surely you recognize Tarl, our friend, to whom you owed your redemption from the Crooked Tarn?"
I saw by the fear in their eyes that well did they recognize me.
"Then, obeisance!" snapped Ephialtes.
Immediately, with a rustle of chain, they knelt, the palms of their hands on the ground, their heads to the dirt.
"Normally at the stakes," he said, "they are not permitted to rise even to their knees."
"Of course," I said.
I glanced at them, in their positions of obeisance.
"They look well, branded," I said.
"I hope you do not mind," he said.
"Of course not," I said. "It improves a female, considerably."
"I think so," he said, glancing at the girl in the yellow tunic, who put her head down, quickly. I did not know what she was frightened of.
"I gave you carte blanche with the women," I said. "You might have sold them, anything."
"I sold Temione to the proprietor of a movable paga enclosure," he said.
"Perhaps she is in the vicinity?" I asked.
"Not now," he said. "She was purchased by a courier of Artemidorus, a fellow named Borton, and was led away in his chains."
"I have heard of him," I said.
"I think that I never saw a slave so grateful as she, and yet one who seemed at the same time so much in terror for her very life," he said.
"I understand," I said. I recalled the night in the paga enclosure. Doubtless Borton had a few scores to settle with the lovely Temione. I did not think she would be likely, in his ownership, to forget she was in a collar.
"You yourself, I gather," he said, "sold Elene and Klio near Ar's Station."
"Yes," I said.
"Liomache," he said, "I also sold near Ar's Station, even before Temione, to a Cosian mercenary, whom she had apparently, months before, at the Crooked Tarn, tricked and defrauded."
"Excellent," I said. I did not doubt but what Liomache, too, would be in little doubt that her lovely neck was encircled with a slave collar.
"Amina and Rimice," he said, "I have been using as rent slaves."
"I see," I said.
"Stake position," said Ephialtes to the two women.
Immediately they both lay down, with a sound of chain. It is not unusual to forbid a rent slave, during her use times, when chained at a stake, to rise even to her knees.
"Perhaps we should discuss what is to be done with Amina and Rimice," I said.
The two lovely women, formerly debtor sluts, now slaves, looked up at us, in fear.
"Perhaps you would care to come around the wagon, then," said Ephialtes.
"Of course," I said. One seldom discusses what is to be done with slaves in front of them. They may always learn later what was decided pertaining to them.
Ephialtes turned about.
"By the way," I said, "there was, as I recall, one more female."
"The one you brought with you from the Crooked Tarn," he said, turning about, "she in the condition of captive, assigned the status of full servant?"
"Yes," I said.
"The pretty Cosian, from Telnus?"
"Yes," I said.
"Phoebe," he said.
"Yes," I said. "Have you sold her?"
"No," he said.
"Do you still have her?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
I was extremely pleased to hear this. Indeed, it was one of the reasons I had come to the vicinity of Brundisium.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"In the wagon," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"It is safer," he said. "Too many of the men want her. I am afraid she might be stolen."
"You have not been using her, like Amina and Rimice, then, as a rent slave."
"No," he said.
"But surely you have had her branded and collared?" I said.
"No," he said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"She was not a debtor slut," he said.
It is common on Gor for female debtors to be enslaved, the proceeds from their sales going to satisfy, insofar as it is possible, their creditors.
"But she is a captive," I said.
"True," he said.
"And is she not needful and ripe for bondage?" I asked.
"Quite," he said.
I had known this about Phoebe for a long time, of course, even from the time she had first knelt before me, at the Crooked Tarn.
"And when a woman is needful and ripe for bondage, is it not cruel to deny it to her?" I asked.
"I suppose so," said Ephialtes.
"Why, then," I asked, "did you not extend to her the mercy of the collar and whip?"
"I expected you to return, and rather before now," he said, "and thought you might see to such details, if it pleased you."
"I see," I said.
"She is, after all, a free woman, and your captive, not mine."
"True," I said.
"So I thought it best to dally in the matter, waiting for you."
"I understand," I said.
"Before you turned her over to me," he said, "you must have started slave fires in her belly."
"Perhaps," I said.
"She has often been in agony," he said.
"And was not satisfied?" I asked.
"No," he said. "And it has often been necessary to chain her hands behind her back, to a belly rope."
"And you did not, even then, embond her?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"At any rate," I said, "it is not as though she were a full slave, and knew the helplessness of the full slave's arousal."
"True," he said.
"That can come later," I said.
"Of cou
rse," he said. It amused me to think of the lovely Phoebe under a condition of such need.
"Perhaps I should have seen to it," he said, "that the beauty of her throat was accented by some light, attractive, suitable encirclement, that the beauty of her slim left thigh, high, just under the hip, was enhanced by the emplacement there of some small, tasteful, meaningful mark."
I smiled.
Ephialtes spoke truly, of course, of the accenting, and enhancement, of beauty.
Most slave collars for women are simple, but, in their way, lovely. Indeed, as with necklaces, beads, and such, in general, it is their intent, one amongst several intents, of course, to bedeck and adorn, to embellish and ornament, to set off, and draw attention to, her loveliness, to make her even more beautiful. The common Gorean slave collar for a woman is a flat band which fits closely about the neck. Its major rival, particularly in the southern latitudes, is the Turian collar, which is rounded, and fits less closely. Neither, of course, may be slipped. Both lock. The brands, too, the most common of which is the cursive kef, tend to be tiny, tasteful, and unobtrusive. But they are there, visible, precise and unmistakable. The brands, too, of which there are several varieties, have in common their own attractiveness, and are designed with the object in mind of enhancing the beauty of a woman. Much of this becomes obvious when it is kept in mind that the last thing a slaver wants to do is to diminish the beauty, and, thus, the sales value, of his merchandise. He wants his goods to be as perfect, as exciting, as desirable, as he can manage.
But, of course, it must be understood that the affixing of the collar, the emplacement of the kef, and such, are not simply to be understood in terms of enhancing attractiveness, though, clearly, that is one of their intents and consequences. They are more, certainly, than necklaces and beauty marks.
Involved here, too, are questions of identity and meaningfulness.
Such an affixing, such an emplacement, radically alters the recipient. She is then radically different from what she has been. There is then suddenly between her and free persons an unbridgeable chasm, an insuperable gulf, a difference not of degree but of kind. She is no longer a free person; she is now goods, a property, a domestic animal, subject to sale, barter, and such. More simply, she is then become the most exciting and desirable of all women, the owned woman, the female slave.
Perhaps a word or two might be inserted here pertaining to female slavery.
I suspect a certain amount of misunderstanding may attend these issues, particularly amongst those unfamiliar with the Gorean, and similar, cultures.
As the reader has doubtless gathered, female slavery is not unknown on Gor. To be sure, such a practice is not unique to Gor. It has been recognized in dozens of cultures and for millennia that women make ideal slaves. Certainly they have been sought with methodicality and avidity, captured with efficiency, and processed, sold, purchased, exchanged, and so on, with zest and acumen. Similarly, more generally, it is a well established fact that slavery, per se, has no connection with race. That is a misunderstanding which should be promptly dispelled. For example, Asians have enslaved Asians, American Indians American Indians, blacks blacks, whites whites, and so on. Similarly the pervasiveness of bondage throughout human history is a sufficient demonstration that a diversity of cultures in a plenitude of times, for whatever it may be worth, if anything, have found its institutionalization convenient, practical, rewarding, beneficent, and desirable. Indeed. institutionalized slavery, as opposed to a natural slavery attendant upon sexual dimorphism and a variety of biological factors, sometimes not even recognized as slavery, is commonly recognized as marking a considerable advance in civilization, being found preferable to, say, torture and slaughter.
But to return more narrowly to female slavery.
There seem to be some misconceptions abroad pertaining to this matter, so let us attend briefly to at least one aspect of them.
What does a woman need? What does a woman want? What is good for a woman?
Those are surely important questions and yet few people engaged with these issues seem to consider them relevant.
That, in itself, is interesting.
Before we proceed two points might be made, one figurative, and one anthropological.
A plant which has its natural inheritance and its ideal environment, namely, those in which it would flourish and thrive, may be transplanted, twisted, poisoned, starved, stunted, cropped, clipped into unnatural and bizarre shapes, and so on. It may continue to live, after a fashion, but then as twisted, poisoned, starved, diminished, stunted, cropped, and clipped into unnatural and bizarre shapes, and so on. Too, some people seem to think that is good for plants, and the way they should be, miserable, neurotic, unfulfilled, tortured, lonely, sick, and so on. Their motivation for these puzzling views is not clear, but presumably that question is best left unaddressed. In any event, they have never proven the probity of these surprising views, nor is it possible to do so, as they are obviously false, and false propositions cannot be proven, a matter of logic. Accordingly, it is their practice to eschew argument, which could only lead to embarrassment for them, and content themselves with unsubstantiated but often ferociously enunciated assertions, claims and pronouncements. These are usually attended by, and embedded within, a panoply of psychological apparatus, such as gesture, expression, tone of voice, attempted intimidation, threats, innuendoes, policing the means of communication, power seizure, managing hiring policies, general oppression, pervasive censorship, character assassination, and so on.
The anthropological point is simply one of fact, which, one supposes, is worth noting, but does not require extensive comment, namely, freedom, particularly of the social and political sort, however estimable it may be, is not a necessary condition for human happiness; two other factors are more important, first, that the person finds personal happiness, contentment, reward, fulfillment, and such, in what they are and what they do, and, second, that society supports and reinforces this, that it endorses and approves of what they are and do. In short, the person is content, happy, fulfilled, and so on, and the society not only does not object, but praises, supports, admires and approves.
Now, more to the point.
Some of Earth, I seem to recall this from Earth, long ago, who understand, apparently, absolutely nothing of these matters, seemed to have a preconceived notion, doubtless politically motivated, that the slave girl is supposed to be a worn, spent, dismal, starved, overworked, unhappy creature, spending her time between beatings in forlorn lamentation. That is the way that they liked to think of her, for political reasons, and, indeed, for political reasons, the way they would want her; but it is not the way she is. A moment's reflection should make clear the stupidity of that surmise. For example, what would be the value of such a creature? Do you think they would be easy to sell? Would you buy such a creature, would you want one around? On the whole men love and desire their slaves. They spend their hard-earned money for them. They may risk their lives to obtain them. They are extremely important to them. They thus want them to be healthy, beautiful, intelligent, and loving. They want them hot, devoted, and dutiful. They want them happy. This does not mean they to any extent compromise the mastery. That would be neither in the interest of the slave or the master. The proof of these matters, of course, is not in theory but in practice. Given the "paradox of the collar" it is that women find sexual liberation in bondage, a liberation they could never experience when fenced in with meretricious dignities and incarcerated in false freedoms. Nature is involved; I wonder if that is really so hard to understand. Nature! Nature! Is that truly so hard to understand? Women desire strong men; they long for true masters; women despise weak men; they want to be taken in hand by strong men, and owned; they know males are dominant by nature, and they want them to be so; how else can they be fulfilled women; they respond, thrilled, to strong men; they find fulfillment, aesthetic, psychological, emotional, and orgasmic, in obedience and submission, indeed, even in their subjection to possible
chastisement, should they not be pleasing; in a collar, stripped, at the feet of a man, owned, mastered, they find themselves; they have come home to their deepest realities.
This is what they want, and love.
Perhaps for the first time in their life, then, they are not only reconciled to their sex, sad, unhappy phrase, but far beyond this, having now come into a new country, now understand it, cherish it, love it, and rejoice in it.
They have come to understand it as what they are.
It has become precious to them.
It has become a source of gladness for them.
It is what they are, and want to be.
They would not relinquish it for anything.
They have put aside their confusions and uncertainties. They have discovered their identity. They are happy.
So, one supposes, it is not so surprising that women make ideal slaves.
What else would one expect?
It this good or bad? Is happiness and fulfillment good or bad? That seems to be what is at issue.
"That is all right," I said. It would not take long to attend to the relevant matters, of course.
"I gather that you have some sort of disposition in mind for her," he said.
"Yes," I said. Indeed, I had a superb disposition in mind for Phoebe.
He glanced at Amina and Rimice.
"Of course," I said. We would not discuss the disposition of the lovely Phoebe before them, as she, too, was a female. Let them all wait to learn what is to be done with them. To be sure, as they were slaves and she was still, apparently, a free woman, they would probably, in any event, be afraid to speak to her.
"Have you eaten?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Share our kettle," he said.
"I would be delighted," I said.
I glanced at Amina and Rimice, and they swiftly, frightened, averted their eyes. We would discuss their fates on the other side of the wagon, while we supped.
"Where is Phoebe?" I asked, for, as I went around the wagon, I did not see her within.
"There," he said.
"Oh, yes," I said.
Lying on the floor of the wagon there was a heavy leather slave sack, tied shut at its close end, the top. Two chains went into the sack, through the leather, via apertures, one toward the bottom, the other toward the top, or opening end. To one of these chains, that toward the bottom, a collar is attached; to the other chain, that toward the top, or opening end, a pair of shackles is attached. As she is prepared to inch into the sack, the collar attached to the chain run through the bottom of the sack is locked about her neck. As she moves toward the bottom of the sack, bit by bit, the slack in the collar chain is taken up. When she is within the sack that chain is fastened to a ring in the wagon bed, outside of the sack. Then, as would be expected, her ankles are shackled, and the slack in this chain, threaded through the appropriate aperture toward the top, or opening end, of the sack, is taken up, as well, and it is fastened to another ring in the wagon bed, outside of the sack, near its opening. The sack is then tied, buckled or padlocked shut. If her hands are not, say, tied behind her in the sack, they are usually placed at her thighs, that her arms will be down, at her sides, when she is in the sack. The chains just mentioned, as stated, were fastened to rings in the wagon bed, but sometimes such chains are fastened outside the wagon, for example to stakes or trees. The common slave sack, incidentally, is much simpler, commonly little more than a sturdy canvas or leather sack which may be tied, buckled or chained shut. The girl may be entered into the sack either feet first or head first. Usually she feels most helpless when entered into the sack headfirst. Accordingly that is the way it is usually done. Naturally, the sacks are constructed in such a way as to have adequate ventilation, either in virtue of their porosity or, in the case of the leather sack, small, judiciously spaced apertures. Among the Wagon Peoples, who inhabit largely treeless plains, bosk dung is the usual fuel, and is gathered by slave girls. A dung sack is usually in the vicinity of the wagon, for convenience. A girl who has not been fully pleasing may be thrust headfirst into the dung sack, it then being tied shut. By morning, when released, she usually kneels and begs her master for permission to "fetch water." Few girls spend more than one night in a dung sack. It is apparently an instructive experience, but certainly not one that I, personally, would care to undergo. In any event, the girl who has had such an experience is not eager for it to be repeated. A reformation has now been wrought in her character. She is now obedient and zealous to please. To be sure, a lashing will accomplish a similar end. Once a girl understands that she is subject to a firm and consistent discipline, she is reassured and content. It is then seldom necessary, if ever, to impose that discipline.
Vagabonds of Gor Page 43
