Magicians of Gor (53 page)

returned from a performance in the great theater.”

“Appanius and Milo must be on intimate terms,” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “The master treats him almost as though he might be a free man.

They discuss matters of business and the theater. Even in the great hall, at the

common suppers, he has Milo above the salt and at his right hand.”

“You must have served Milo at the common suppers then?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“And as only another deferential slave,” I said.

“Of course,” she said.

“You must hate him,” I said.

“Why?” she asked.

“It was through his collusion,” I said, “that you came into the collar.”

“Then I should be grateful to him,” she said, “for I have known for years that

it is in the collar that I belong.”

“I see,” I said.

“Besides,” she said, “he, too, is a slave. He must act on behalf of Appanius.

He, too, even though he is the great Milo, must obey. Do you think he wishes to

be thrown to sleen?”

“I would not think so,” I said.

“I am far from bearing him ill will,” she said.

“I gathered that,” I said.

“Indeed,” she said, “it was my hope that I might be thrown him, that I might at

least feel his touch!”

“I see,” I said.

“He is beautiful!” she said.

“Not a bad looking fellow,” I granted her.

“And there I was,” she said, “kneeling half naked in slave silk, collared, in

bangles, waiting to serve, so close to him I could reach out and touch him,

almost alone with him.”

“Continue,” I said.

(pg. 311) “And then they began to discuss a free woman. I do not even remember

her name, objectively, casually, as though she might be an animal, a mere slave,

like myself. I could hardly believe my ears. And then I realized that at one

time I, too, had doubtless been so discussed.”

“You were angry?” I asked.

“Not then,” she said. “I think I was rather more scandalized that the woman

should be discussed in that fashion. After all, she was not, as I, an animal, a

slave.”

“But perhaps she was an animal, a slave,” I said, “only one not yet in her

collar, as once you were not yet in your collar.”

“That is undoubtedly true!” she laughed.

“But you became angry later?” I said.

“Yes!” she said.

“At whom?” I asked.

“At both of them!” she said.

“Because of the trickery they would practice,” I asked, “because of the toils of

the slave net?”

“No,” she said. “It is rather that I did not want Milo to have anything to do

with the other woman, whoever she was! There were already enough women so

captured in the house! What if she were more beautiful than I? What if he liked

her, when he saw her naked in the net?”

“You were jealous of a possible rival,” I said.

“Yes!” she said.

“But there have apparently been a great many,” I said.

“I was distraught,” she said. “I was furious! My heart was beating wildly. Then

I felt futile, helpless and miserable. I could do nothing! Such as I are

completely at the mercy of our masters! I was only a slave! And then there were

tears in my eyes, and Milo was so beautiful! I wanted him to see me, to notice

me. I did not wish to be just another slave in the background, unrecognized, so

simply taken for granted, serving but almost unnoticed, present but scarcely

seen. I reached out, with tears in my eyes, and put my fingers on his arm.”

“Continue,” I said.

“He seemed startled that I had done this, as though he might not believe it. I

looked at him, tears in my eyes, kneeling there, appealing to him, that he might

take notice of me, though I were only a slave.”

“Yes?” I said,

“This was noted, of course, by my master, Appanius. Appar (pg. 312) ently I had

not realized the grievousness of what I had done. He leaped to his feet! His

eyes blazed. He was beside himself with anger. ‘Guards! Guards!’ he cried,

clapping his hands. I knelt small there by the table, trembling, my head down. I

knew I had done wrong, daring to touch Milo, I, he so favored by the master and

I only a house slave, but I had been unable to help myself. I so wanted to be

brought to his attention! But never yet had he requested me, nor had I been put

naked to my knees before him, my hands bound behind me in slave bracelets, the

key about my neck, for his pleasure. I knew I had done wrong, but I had not

understood that it was so terrible. I had only wanted to call myself to his

attention, and had hoped doubtless that he might sometimes be moved to take pity

on a poor slave. ‘Guards! Guards!’ cried Appanius. I was terrified. I trembled,

not understanding the immensity of his anger, the enormity of his response to my

tiny, pathetic deed. Guards rushed into the room, blades free of scabbards, the

doors bursting open. Perhaps they had feared an attempt was in progress on the

master’s life. In a moment they were about me. I feared I was to be cut to

pieces. He struggled, it seemed, to control himself. ‘Forgive me, Master!’ I

wept. I crawled to him, my head down. ‘Forgive me, Master!’ I wept. I kissed his

feet, fervently. He pulled away, in anger. He moved to the side. He kicked me

twice, in fury. I returned to him on my belly, and showered my hair upon his

sandals, and then again kissed his feet, again and again. ‘Forgive me, Master!’

I wept, an errant slave, one who had done wrong, pleading for mercy, and

forgiveness. He pulled back, away from me again, and then stood there, some feet

before me, looking down at me. I was still on my belly. I looked up at him, a

slave regarding her master with terror, lying before him, his property, on the

tiles of his house. ‘Have her lashed,’ he said. ‘Then have her hair cropped, and

sent her to the field!’”

“And it was thus you came to the fields,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“And how did Milo respond to all this?” I asked.

“Imperturbably,” she said. “I was, after all, only a female.”

“Do you think that Milo finds you attractive?” I asked.

“Master?” she asked.

“That he would like to strip you, collar you and throw you to the furs at his

feet, there to vent his lust upon you, his slave?”

“I do not know if his drives are that strong, Master,” she said.

“Would you object?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said. “It had always been my hope that I (pg. 313) might prove

attractive enough to provoke such desire. I am a slave girl. I live to be the

obedient, grateful, vulnerable object of such lust and power. I have always

dreamed of it. I wish to be choiceless, to be overpowered and made to serve!”

“Milo must have exhibited some interest in you, or seemed to exhibit some

interest in you,” I said, “if only during the period of your seduction, when you

were being trapped.”

“Yes,” she said, “then.”

“But after you were in the house as a slave, collared, scantily clad, utterly

vulnerable?”

“No, Master,” she said.

“He never asked for you to be brought to him?”

“No, Master.”

“Why do you think that is?” I asked.

“I am insufficiently beautiful,” she said.

“Did he call for other women?” I asked.

“I do not know, Master,” she said.

“Did you not see names written on the call boards in the kitchen?”

“No,” she said.

“Interesting,” I said.

“One of the girls, another one of we three who had been trapped by Milo, claimed

to have been with him, but it was proven that she had lied. She had been chained

in the stable that night. The house master found out about it and she was

whipped, before us all.”

“As far as you know, then,” I said, “none of the girls of the house were put

with Milo.”

“As far as I know, not,” she said.

“But surely there would be no cause for secrecy about such a matter,” I said.

“I would not think so,” she said.

“Milo was important in the house,” I said. “He is famous. He is of great value

to Appanius.”

“Certainly, Master,” she said.

“It would make sense then,” I said, “to suppose that a girl would be sent to

him, at least once in a while.”

“Perhaps, Master,” she said.

“So much is done even for quarry slaves,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“But as far as you know this was never done?”

“Not as far as I know,” she said.

“And if it had been done,” I said, “it is my speculation that you would have

heard of it, such gossip flowing quickly through the corridors of such a house.”

(pg. 314) “I suppose so,” she said.

“If Milo had requested a girl, do you think he would have received one?”

“I would suppose so,” she said, puzzled.

“Perhaps he did not request one,” I said.

“Master?” she asked.

“Possible Milo does not find women attractive,” I said.

“Master?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Are you a virgin?” I asked.

She laughed. “How long can a slave remain a virgin, Master?” she asked.

“Whom have you served?” I asked.

“Mostly men in the house, on the staff,” she said, “those who wanted me for the

night. We are free to them, you know. I was muchly cuffed at first. I was

clumsy. I knew so little.”

“You are more accomplished now?” I asked.

“One learns quickly under the whip,” she said.

“And in the fields?”

“Mostly the whip masters,” she said. “But twice I was tied to a stake, for the

field slaves.”

I noted that her knees had moved a little further apart, probably unconsciously,

or without really thinking about it, after she had said this. In such ways can a

slave, sometimes not even conscious of what she is doing, or fully conscious of

it, beg. I glanced at Marcus, and he smiled. He, too, had noticed the tiny

movement.

“May I speak, Masters?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

She put her head down.

“Have you experienced slave arousal?” I asked

“Master?” she asked, looking up.

“Have the slave fires been lit in your belly?” I asked. She was, after all, a

relatively new slave, and had been a house slave, apparently primarily consigned

to domestic duties, serving table and such, and was now a field slave, whose

primary services would presumably lie in such labors as the carrying of water

and the hoeing of suls. It was not as though she had been in the attentive and

exacting ownership, for example, of a particular master, who would see to the

summoning forth and cultivation of these intimate, exquisite, exigent latencies

which once initiated seem to blossom and grow of their own lovely, imperious

will, which cannot be suppressed or silenced, and which make a girl so much

their prisoner, more so than collars and chains.

(pg. 315) “Sometimes,” she said, “I sense their beginnings in me.”

“How do you feel about them?” I asked.

“I love them,” she said, “but I am afraid of them.”

I nodded. Well she might be.

“May I speak?” she asked.

“Very well,” I said.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Are you men of my master, Appanius?”

Perhaps she thought we had come from her master, to question her. But surely,

too, our armbands should have suggested to her that our origins, and intents,

were not indigenous to the house of Appanius.

“No,” I said.

“You are not slavers, are you?” she asked.

We did not speak.

“Please tell me!” she begged.

“It is not in that modality that we have come,” I said.

“You are members of the caste of slavers!” she said.

“No,” I said.

“But you are slavers!” she said.

“Do not concern yourself with the matter,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

The distinction, of course, is between belonging to the caster of slavers and

being a slaver. Whereas members of the caste of slavers are slavers, not all

slavers are members of the caste of slavers. For example, I am not of the

slavers, but in Port Kar I am know as Bosk, and he known as many things, among

them pirate and slaver. Too, both Marcus and myself were of the warriors, the

scarlet caster, and as such were not above taking slaves. Such is not only

permitted in the codes, but encouraged by them. “The slave is a joy and a

convenience to the warrior.” Neither of us, of course, was a member of the caste

of slavers. It, incidentally, is sometimes regarded as a subcaste of the

merchants, and sometimes as an independent caste. It does have its own colors,

blue and yellow, whereas those of the merchants are yellow and white, or gold

and white.

“Have you come to collect taxes?” she asked. “Have you come from the levies?”

“No,” I said. Her questions were doubtless motivated by our armbands. It was not

unknown in recent months in Ar and her vicinity for properties of various sorts,

including such as she was, to be taken for taxes. Too, of course, there might

have been new requisitions from Cos, or even from the camp of the pokemarkos,

calling for new levies of women, both free and slave.

(pg. 316)”You are not going to carry me off are you?” she asked.

“Curiosity is not becoming in a kajira,” I said.

“Forgive me, Master,” she said. She squirmed in agitation. It would not be

difficult, of course, to carry her off. In a matter of moments we could have

done so with impunity. In a matter of moments she could have been ours, gagged,