John Norman - Counter Earth11

by Slave Girl Of Gor(Lit)

  Would it not have been enough?

  But I had betrayed him, he whom I loved.

  Strabo turned and looked at me.

  "Forgive me, Master," I said. I had moaned with anguish.

  We continued on our way toward the wharves.

  The night I had betrayed Clitus Vitellius I had been beaten. I had failed miserably to please the drunken sailor.

  Twice later, too, on ensuing nights, I had been beaten. "You seem to be worthless as a paga girl," had said Aurelion of Cos, my master.

  "Forgive me, Master," I had said.

  "It is perhaps time," said he, "to return you to Ar."

  I could now smell fish and salt, for we were quite near the wharves. Between buildings I could see galleys at their moorings. We descended toward the wharves.

  I no longer wore the black, enameled, belled collar, and snide ring, of the Chatka and Curla.

  I heard men shouting, and saw them running. There seemed excitement below.

  I now wore a ship collar, of locked steel, gray, with its destination tag. The tag, I had been told, read: "Send me to the Lady Elicia of Ar, of Six Towers."

  I had betrayed Clitus Vitellius of Ar. I could not have hated him so much had I not loved him so deeply.

  I had betrayed him, he whom I loved!

  Strabo took me by the arm. This puzzled me, as I was braceleted. He pulled me through the crowd. Men ran here and there. The fire of white smoke had been lit near the shield pole, though it was not yet noon. I heard an alarm bar ringing. On the height of the shield pole there was hoisted a scarlet disk.

  "Come," said Strabo, making his way through the crowds, holding my arm.

  "Escape!" I heard.

  "They have escaped!" cried a man.

  "They have escaped!" cried another man.

  I saw guardsmen hurrying by, with shields and spears. People stood on roofs.

  "Who has escaped?" I cried.

  The alarm bar rang steadily. Strabo pulled me through the crowds, and conducted me swiftly toward one of the wharves.

  "Who has escaped?" I cried.

  "Kneel," he said.

  I knelt near the foot of the gangplank, leading to the deck of a ramship, theJewel of Jad. Such ships are sometimes used for merchant service. They carry much less cargo than a round ship, but lean and shallow-drafted, they are much faster.

  Strabo conferred quickly with one of the ship's officers, one who held a cargo manifest. Strabo indicated me. The man nodded.

  "Stand," said Strabo.

  I stood.

  He then thrust me up the gangplank, onto the deck of the ship. It was some twenty feet wide.

  Strabo gave the ship's officer the key to my collar, and the officer placed it in his pouch.

  The officer then gestured to one of the sailors, and indicated me with his head. The man fetched a set of light ship chains. I stood, and felt ankle rings snapped on my ankles, joined by some twelve inches of chain; another chain, attached to this chain, was some three feet in length, and terminated with light manacles. Strabo unbraceleted me, dropping the bracelets and their key back in his pouch. The sailor then, lifting the vertical chain behind me, fastened me in the light manacles. My ankles, then, were chained, and, joined to them by the vertical chain, behind me, were my chained wrists.

  "I wish you well, Slave Girl," said Strabo.

  "I wish you well, Master," I said. He then left. I saw the gangplank drawn up. From the wharf, moorings were cast off. I saw three sailors, with long poles, edging the ship from the wharf. Oarsmen, free sailors, sat upon the benches. The helmsmen, two of them, were in their places. The oar master stood below the helmsman. On the small, high stern deck, I saw the captain. Slowly, gently, the ship began to move from the wharf. An oar count would not be given until clear of the wharfage. The lateen sail would not be dropped until clear of the harbor gates.

  On the wharves men seemed still agitated. I saw more guardsmen. The alarm bar yet rang. White smoke billowed from the platform near the shield pole, from whose height now swung a scarlet disk.

  I went to the rail of the ship. The cargo officer was there. Other ships, too, I saw were edging from their wharves. We would sail in convoy.

  "Who has escaped, Master?" I asked.

  "Have you not heard?" he asked.

  "No, Master," I said.

  "A chain of twenty men of Ar," he said.

  "How could they escape?" I asked. I was sure these must be the same men I had seen some days ago on the wharves, when, later, I had encountered my master, Clitus Vitellius.

  "They were freed by an escaped prisoner," he said. "They fought like larls," he said.

  "What prisoner freed them?" I asked.

  "One called Clitus Vitellius," he said.

  I trembled on the deck. I thought I might faint. The joy I felt was incredible.

  "They were last seen," said the officer, "heading for a paga tavern, the Chatka and Curla."

  I said nothing, but trembled.

  "It seems," said he, "a slut there betrayed their leader, Clitus Vitellius." He laughed cruelly. "I would not wish to be she," he said.

  "The vengeance of a girl," I had said to Clitus Vitellius, "is not a light thing."

  "Neither," had said he, looking at me, "is the vengeance of a warrior."

  I had shrunk back, frightened.

  "Take him away," had said Aurelion of Cos, my master. He had been conducted from the tavern.

  "He is a warrior of Ar," said the ship's officer, standing near me. "I would not wish to be that slave girl."

  I looked at the wharf, which seemed to drift gently away from us.

  "Did you know her?" he asked. He knew I had come from the Chatka and Curla.

  "Yes, Master," I said. "But he will not find her at the Chatka and Curla. She was sent away."

  "Good fortune," said he, "for the treacherous slut."

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  The bow of theJewel of Jad turned toward the gate of the harbor. There were eyes, two large eyes, one on each side of the bow. They were outlined in black; their interior was blue; their pupils were black. They looked toward the harbor gate. I heard the call of the oar master. "Ready oars!" The oars slid through the thole ports "Stroke!" he called. The oars, in unison, twenty on each side, dipped into the waters of the harbor, drew and lifted, the water falling from them in bright droplets, splashing back into the harbor.

  I was indescribably happy, though, too, I was apprehensive. Clitus Vitellius was free, and had men.

  The officer was looking at me. I was chained at his side. "You are the only slave girl on board," he said.

  I looked at him, and laughed delightedly. He looked at me, puzzled.

  "I will be a wonder to you, Master," I laughed. "I will be a wonder to you!"

  He lifted the brief skirt of the yellow slave tunic to my left hip. "You are a Dina," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "I have heard Dinas are good," he said.

  "We are fabulous, Master!" I laughed. "We are Slave Flowers."

  He laughed at the pun.

  "We shall test your boasting later, little Dina," he said.

  I tried to press myself against him. I wanted to feel my body in his arms, his. Suddenly, Clitus Vitellius free, and with men, the world seemed open and glorious again. Again, suddenly, I rejoiced in the beauty of men and my slavery to them. Again, almost making me want to cry out with joy, I felt their attractiveness irresistibly and deeply. Again, suddenly, I felt myself helpless and owned by them, loving and helpless to their least touch and command.

  I tried to lift my lips to the officer, but he held me from him. "What a slave you are," he laughed.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  Again I could not help my responsiveness to men, true men, Gorean men. To an Earth girl, accustomed to the hypocrisy and weakness of the men of Earth, their shame, their inhibitions and pretenses, the Gorean male, in his honesty, his power, his lust, his manhood, is a hurricane of joy. Clitus Vitellius, I kn
ew, had been angry that I could not help but respond to men, scorning me for this rightly, perhaps, as the slave and slut I was, but I did not care. Though any Gorean male might make me, in spite of myself, a panting, orgasmic slave in his arms, I knew it had been only he, Clitus Vitellius, whom I had truly loved, and yet loved. In his arms I had always been the most helpless. He was my love master.

  The officer gestured to the sailor who had first chained me, and he approached.

  "Though you are the only girl on hoard," said the officer, "do not think that you will be treated easily."

  "No, Master," I said. I knew I was a slave girl.

  "Take her below decks," he said, "and chain her by the neck to a ring."

  The sailor threw me over his shoulder. I knew I would be kept below decks until late, chained, that my needs might grow even keener and more frustrated.

  Then, when I was whimpering, I would be pulled to the deck.

  22

  What Occurred Southeast Of Cos

  I walked about the deck of theJewel of Jad. The deck was hot. The sun was bright. I brushed back my hair, which was now about an inch and a half in length, with my two hands and closed my eyes, stretching. I opened my eyes, and looked up at the sky. It was intensely blue, and the clouds were so white it almost hurt my eyes to look upon them. The single lateen sail, stretched from its yard, swelled with a clean, slow wind. I could see other ships to both the left and right, too, with lateen rigging, both ramships and round ships. There were some twenty vessels in the convoy. We were bound for Schendi.

  We were two days out of Telnus, and it was the tenth hour. I loved to walk the deck, and feel the wind and the spray. The water was only a yard or so below the railing, as the ship, shallow drafted and freighted, plied the sea, sunlit and sparkling. I looked to the horizon, noting the other ships. They were beautiful with their masts and sails. I understood then how it could be that men might love the sea. Gorean sailors, as the sailors of Earth, speak of her as she.

  I fingered the ship's collar on my throat, with its tag. It read, "Send me to the Lady Elicia of Ar, of Six Towers." At Schendi I would be bound and sent by tarn to Ar, there to be returned to the mercies of Elicia Nevins, a former beauty rival from Earth, who would then be again my mistress. I knew she would get much work from me as her serving slave. I touched the ship's collar. It is a hard thing for a girl to belong to a woman. Further, I knew she would wish me to be a demure girl, a fitting serving slave for a lady of wealth and rank, one whose status and image requires that her girls be paragons of shy, perfect obedience, humility and modesty, that they reflect not the least dishonor upon her. If I so much as looked at a man, even a slave, I had no doubt she would tear the Mesh from my bones with the delicately beaded, feminine slave whip which, by its slender leather loop, hung upon its peg in her bedroom, where I, her girl, might constantly see it. I had already felt it. It would be torture to belong to her, not only from the shame of being forced to serve her perfectly, but because she would expect me to adopt her values and conform absolutely to them, values which involved her proud, determined independence of men, and her contempt of them. The slave girl must be as the mistress wishes. I had felt the hands of Gorean men, tight and strong, on my slave body. I did not know if I could now live without them.

  I resolved to put my mistress from my mind, and live for the moment, for the joy, the men, the ship and the sea.

  Near the stern of the ship men who had been trolling a line now began, sweatily, bracing themselves, to draw it in. It pulled back, away from them, powerfully.

  I ran to the stern that I might watch. Half out of the water, then returning to it, I saw a great speckled grunt, four-gilled. It dove, and swirled away. Another man came to help with the line. I observed the struggle. One often fishes from the ships on Thassa, and the diet of the sailors consists, in part, of the catch. Part of each catch is commonly saved, to serve as bait for the next.

  I cried out with fear. One of the men shouted with anger. Rising from under the grunt swiftly was a long-bodied shark, white, nine-gilled. It tore the grunt from the line and bore it away. Other dorsal fins, of smaller sharks, trailed it, waiting. Sharks, and sometimes marine saurians, sometimes trail the ships, to secure discarded garbage and rob the lines of the fishermen. The convoy, by its size, had doubtless attracted many such monsters. I had seen, yesterday, the long neck of a marine saurian lift from the waters of gleaming Thassa, It had a small head, and rows of small teeth. Its appendages were like broad paddles. Then it had lowered its head and disappeared. Such beasts, in spite of their frightening appearance, are apparently harmless to men. They can take only bits of garbage and small fish. Certain related species thrive on crustaceans found among aquatic flora. Further, such beasts are rare. Some sailors, reportedly, have never seen one. Far more common, and dangerous, are certain fishlike marine saurians, with long, toothed snouts; they are silent and aggressive, and sailors fear them as they do the long-bodied sharks. The sea sleen, vicious, fanged aquatic mammals, apparently related to the land forms of sleen, are the swiftest predators to be found in Thassa; further, they are generally conceded to be the most dangerous; they tend, however, to frequent northern waters. Occasionally they have been found as far south, however, as the shores of Cos and the deep inlets of Tyros.

  I walked back toward the bow of the ship.

  I reached into a wooden bucket and took a tospit, bit it open and began to suck at the juice. No one stopped me.

  Although the cargo officer, my first day on board, had warned me that I would not be treated easily, he had not been as good as his word. I was permitted the freedom of the ship. I was not even chained at night. The men were fond of me, and they treated me well, with the rough comraderie and friendship that is sometimes accorded an owned girl, one who is common to all, and must obey all. For all the restraints placed upon me I might have been a free woman, save that the distinction between us, apart from my tunic and collar, would have been clear when a man snapped his fingers and pointed to the deck at his feet, or whistled for me in the night, and I must run to him, as might a pet sleen, to serve him. A slave girl, one who truly serves men, has often much freedom. Since they have everything, and anything, they want from her, and she is complete slave, and they total master, there is no struggle between them; she, accordingly, in a strange way, is prized and treasured; how many women of Earth, I wonder, are prized and treasured by their men; one can prize and treasure, of course, only something which one owns; a free person can be respected, and even loved, but cannot stand to another in that unique relationship which is that of prize and treasure; to stand in that relationship a woman must be owned; further, since each man, in his heart, desires a beautiful woman as a slave, he is, when he owns one, at least in this respect, contented, satisfied and pleased; a contented, pleased, satisfied man is a happy man, and a happy man is a kind man, and a generous man; he is jealous only of his prerogatives over the slave; of course, when his heat is upon him, then he becomes less kind and generous, and more the harsh master; she then, to her pleasure, well understands his dominance over her; then her slavery is truly brought home to her; even among free lovers, I have heard, the man, in the fullness of his heat, often laughs at the woman's illusion of freedom and seizes her to him as a slave; how marvelous to the man, then, if she is truly a slave. With what joy may such a woman, in true bondage, be seized and used. Moreover, her bondage, naturally, extends beyond the brief, several hours of pleasure; she simply belongs to him, and must continue to serve him, however he pleases; how exciting it must be for a man to own so delicious a creature as a woman; how utterly marvelous for him! It is more difficult to speak of women. In my heart, I know, there lies a slave girl, once denied, then secretly feared, now openly and joyously recognized, who longs for a master. I do not know if this is true for other women or not. Let them look into their own secret hearts. I do not think the longing of men is an oddity in the genetic history of a species; I think there is a reciprocity which has been intricately ev
olved; this desire, this longing for a beautiful slave, for a beautiful female, who stands to him as slave to master, which is universal in glandularly normal, strong men does not seem likely to have evolved in isolation; the evolution of the tiger's tooth suggests the presence of game; the evolution of the eye suggests the existence of light; the existence of blood suggests the organism's presence in an environment which supplies water and salt; similarly a man's desire to own a slave suggests that there are slaves to be owned, waiting to be mastered; in the animal kingdom the instinct to dominate and the instinct to submit are functions of one another, each real and deep in the blood of the evolved, complementary beasts; let the woman who desires to kneel naked before her male and put her head to his feet do so; but let her be wary as he cries out with pleasure and seizes her, for she is then a slave.