Witness of Gor (67 page)

"It was not merely for your ignorance that you were purchased," he said. "We also wanted one who was beautiful and desirable, and such things.”

I was silent.

"You are a natural slave," he said, "and you have come along well. We are pleased.”

"Then I, too, am pleased," I said, "Master.”

"The peasant," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"He is in your keeping," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said. He was actually in the keeping of the pit master, the depth warden, of course, but it was I, it seemed, who would be attending to the servile trivialities of his keeping, his feeding, the emptying of his wastes bucket, and such.

"Do you recall how you are to appear before him?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said. "In a string and slave strip, if that.”

"And how are you to move before him?" he asked.

"Master?" I asked.

"You are to move well before him," he said.

"I do not understand," I said.

"Surely I need not explain such things to a female slave," he said.

"Master?" I asked.

"He is to be tortured," he said.

I was silent.

"Let him, helpless in his chains, be mocked and taunted," he said, fiercely, "as might be a helpless male slave by an insolent slave girl.”

I did not look up. My left cheek was upon the tiles. I saw only his feet.

"He is to suffer," he said. "He is to well understand the contempt in which we hold him, the insult we do him.”

"Master?" I asked.

"He is my enemy," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

And so it seemed that I, a lowly slave, figured somehow, in no way I clearly understood, in some obscure affair of state. I now better understood, as well, my having been obtained. My beauty, if beauty it was, was intended to have its purpose in certain plans. It was, it seemed, to be as food exhibited to a starving man. And it seemed, too, that, from the point of view of those on this world, that some grievous insult was intended as well, first, doubtless, the general insult that he, a free man, would be attended by a mere slave, an insult common to those in the pits, and, second, that he, a free man, would be attended by such a slave, a mere pierced-ear girl, and one who would be clad in such a way before him, and behave in such a way before him, one whom he, to his misery, would be unable either to enjoy or punish.

He must endure, even, it seemed, if they had their way, the provocations, the mockery, of a slave. How rich the joke! How delicious the insult! But I wondered, really, if the peasant, so simple, so huge, so remote, would even understand this sort of thing. Might it not all be lost upon him? I was not even certain he understood he was in chains, in the depths. Perhaps in his mind, he was in some simple hut, far off, perhaps in some small, fertile valley, tending his fields.

"You understand what is required?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He turned away.

"Master!" I called to him.

He turned back to face me.

"What you did to me last night!" I cried. "What you made me do! What you made me feel!”

"It is nothing," he said.

"I do not even know Master's name," I said.

"Your name is 'Janice'," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He then left.

A few minutes later one of the slave girls entered the room. The other was a little behind her.

They busied themselves, picking up, tidying.

One of them came over and looked down at me. "You are a well-tied little vulo," she said.

I did not respond.

"It stinks in here," said the other, lightly "There must be a pit slave somewhere.”

The two girls were not twins, but they were clearly a matched set. They were similar in height, figure, hair and eye color. They also wore matching tunics, brief, of yellow silk. I wondered if they had been sold as a matched set, or if the officer had matched them himself. I envied them their private collars. They were owned then not by the state but, presumably, by the officer himself. I wondered if they served his pleasure together.

Many men, of course, own more than one woman. How they apply them, or mix them, is up to them.

"She is a pierced-ear girl," said the girl standing near me.

"I wish he wouldn't bring them here," said the other. "It lowers the quality of the compartments.”

"You are an Earth slut, aren't you?" asked the girl near me.

I did not respond.

"Oh!" I cried, in pain, kicked.

"Aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes!" I said.

"Yes, what?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress!" I said.

"Speak when you are spoken to, slut," said the girl.

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Forgive me, Mistress.”

"Let us give her a switching," said the other girl.

"No, Mistress!" I begged. "Please, no, Mistress!”

"You will be a good little slave, won't you, Earth slut?" asked the first girl.

"Yes, Mistress!" I assured her.

"What do the masters see in such curvaceous little sluts?" asked the second girl.

"They are pretty little bundles of slave curves," said the first.

"That is doubtless it," said the second.

"But we are pretty, too!" insisted the first.

"Yes," agreed the second.

I did not think we were really so much different, either. Indeed, we were all rather similarly figured. Their yellow silk certainly did not do much to conceal their own "slave curves." What difference did it make, really, if I was from Earth and they were not? In the end were we not all the same, all women, all slaves? There was a knock on the door.

"That will be the guard," said the first girl. "Bundle her silk!”

In a few moments I was standing, back-braceleted. A slave sheet was thrown over my head and body. It fell to my calves. It was held on me by a collar, fastened closely about my neck. To a ring on this collar a leash was attached.

The jewelry I had worn, the bracelets and the bangles, the arm-let and the earrings, had been removed from me. They had been given, together with my silk, to the guard. He placed them in a pouch. These things would be returned to one place, and I to another.

I was then led from the compartments. I had been brought to them silked and veiled. I was taken away covered in a slave sheet. There would be few, thusly, who would be able to connect me with the officer.

SEVENTEEN "What are you doing?" cried the pit master, with horror.

I turned about, startled, in the cell, that in which the peasant was confined.

"Obeying, Master!" I said, frightened.

"Down on all fours!" he cried.

Swiftly I went to all fours.

The peasant, sitting, cross-legged, by the wall, in his chains, looked at me, dully.

I heard the pit master draw his belt free of his tunic.

I moaned.

Down came the belt with a hiss and I cried out in misery, and went to my stomach, my eyes filled with tears.

I looked up at the peasant. He regarded me, impassively. I do not even know if he understood what was happening.

Twice more the belt struck me. I wept. I had not known the pit master could be so angry.

"Please, Master!" I wept.

"Who told you to behave in such a fashion?" said the pit master.

"The tall man," I said, "the officer, he whom I served last night!”

"And who gave you permission to appear before this prisoner clad as you are?" he asked.

"It was my understanding that I should so serve!" I said.

Certainly this had been expressed to me, and the pit master, as well, had heard words to this effect in the cell. I could recall that.

"Are you trying to torment this prisoner?" he asked.

"Master?" I asked.

"Beg his forgiveness," he said.

I crawled to the peasant on my stomach, over the stones. I was careful not to come within reach of those mighty hands. I did not think even the pit master would have cared to have come within their compass. I did not doubt but what the peasant could have torn my head from my shoulders.

"Forgive me, Master," I said, weakly.

I heard the snapping of the pit master's fingers. Quickly I backed away, on my stomach, from the peasant, and then rose up, on my knees, to kneel, head down, before the pit master.

"I have seen you move," said the pit master, his rage seemingly dissipated.

I looked up at him, frightened, and then looked away. It was still hard to look upon those grotesque, massive, twisted features, the irregular placement of the eyes, one larger than the other.

"You did not move as you might have, before him," he said.

"No," I admitted.

"It is one thing," said the pit master, "to appear bare-breasted, in a string and slave strip, before guards, before soldiers, before free men, serving their feasts, crawling at their feet, licking their thighs, dancing before them, and quite another before a prisoner. The free men may seize you upon a caprice and fling you down for their pleasure.

They have whips. They may lash you to the furs. You may hope they will be kind enough to merely put you to their lengthy pleasures. It is not the same with a chained prisoner.”

I hung my head.

"Yet," he said, "I know you. You did not move as you might have.”

I was silent.

"Why?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"I think you are not one of those petty, insolent sluts," said he, "who must have her wrists tied over her head and be whipped.”

"Master?" I asked.

"You were told to torment him, weren't you?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Did you do so?”

"Of course, Master!" I said.

"I know you, Earth slut," he said. "You could make a rock scream with need, but you did not do so.”

"Forgive me, Master!" I said.

"You were reluctant, you were hesitant.”

"Forgive me," I said.

"Were you afraid of him?”

"Yes," I said. "I am afraid of him.”

"He is chained," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"He cannot hurt you," he said.

"No, Master," I said.

"You might then have tormented him with impunity," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"But you were reluctant to do so," he said. "You held back.”

"Forgive me, Master," I said.

"Does it seem honorable to you," he asked, "to torment a helpless prisoner?”

"No, Master," I said.

"Do you think I would have permitted it?" he asked.

I looked up at him, startled. Then I looked down, in awe. "No, Master,”

I whispered, frightened, trembling, "you would not have permitted it.”

Then I looked up at him, in misery. "Who am I to obey?" I cried. "The officer has told me one thing, and you tell me another! Whom am I to obey?”

"You will obey me," said the depth warden.

"But is he not higher than you?" I asked, timidly.

"Yes," he said. "He is higher than I, but you will obey me.”

"Master?" I asked.

"For I am closer to you than he," he whispered.

I shuddered. I was indeed in the keeping of the depth warden. It was in his quarters that I had my kennel. It was on the wall of those quarters that hung the whip to which I was first subject. It was he within whose direct reach I was. I was in his power, at his mercy. He could do with me as he pleased. But I was frightened, too, because I now realized that the depth master was in direct violation of the orders of his superior. He would manage the depths as he saw fit.

His, then, was the responsibility.

"Whom do you obey?" asked the depth warden.

"You, Master!" I said.

The depth warden then turned to the peasant. "This is only a stupid slave, and I am only a stupid jailer," he said. "Forgive us. This will not happen again.”

The peasant regarded us. I did not think he understood any of what had gone on.

"In the future," said the depth warden to me, "you will serve the prisoner with care and deference.”

"Yes, Master," I said. "Master!" I said.

"Yes?" he said.

I put my head down and kissed his feet. "Thank you, Master," I said.

He then stepped away from me, and went to the door of the cell.

I, on my knees, gathered in the food and water bowl of the prisoner. I had come to the cell originally to fetch and replenish them. The depth warden had stopped at the door of the cell. He was standing there, looking back at the prisoner.