Blood Brothers of Gor (50 page)

"I do not have a name," she said.

"That is true," I said.

We continued to draw the travois through the tall grass.

"Am I to be named?" she asked.

"Perhaps," I said.

"I would like to ahve a name," she said.

"It is probably a good idea for animals like you to be given names," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Perhaps we should call you 'Ahtundan'," I said.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

" 'Something to be spit upon,' " I said. "It is a fitting name for a slave, it is not?"

"Yes, Master," she said, her head down.

"Perhaps we could call you 'Cesli' or 'Cespu'," I said.

"What do those names mean?" she asked.

" 'Cesli'," I said, "means dung."

"Oh," she said.

"Either of men or animals," I said.

"I see," she said.

" 'Cespu' means 'wart' or 'scab'," I said.

"I see," she said.

"Let us save those names," said Cuwignaka.

"Oh?" I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Very well," I said. I smiled. In Cuwignaka there was a warrior.

"Is it all right with you," I asked the girl, "if we save those names?"

"Yes, Master," she laughed.

"What about 'Turnip'?" I asked.

"Oh, please, Master, no," she laughed. "That reminds me so of the Waniyanpi."

"Your life has changed considerably, as you will soon learn," I said. "That name, thus, would no longer be appropriate for you."

"I am pleased to hear it," she said.

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"Perhaps I should call you 'Wowiyutanye'," I said.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Temptation," I said.

"Master flatters me," she said, head down, smiling.

"I have a name for you," I said.

"What, Master?" she asked, eagerly, apprehensively.

"It is not a sophisiticated name," I said.

"No, Master," she said, "for I am only a slave."

"It seems t be a simple, suitable name for a slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said. Whatever name it was she would wear it. Animals must wear whatever names are given to them.

"I name you--" I said.

"Yes, Master?" she said.

"I name you 'Mira'," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she said. "Master well knows how to humble a slave! Once that name was worn by a slave who did not know she was a slave. It was then a slave's name but not a slave name. Then the slave was legally imbonded. She leanred then, and soon, that she was truly a slave. Her nature was revealed. Her truth was manifested. The name then again was put on her, this time as a slave name. Now the name is not only a slave's name, as it always was, but is a slave name as well, and recognized and acknowledged publicly, by the slave that she was never anything, even before the technicality of her legal imbondment, but a slave!"

"Do you think you will prove to be a satisfactory slave?" I asked.

"I will try with all my heart, Master," she said.

"Do you want to be a slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said, "with all my heart."

"See that you serve well," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Pull, Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

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Chapter 34

SQUASH AND STRAWBERRY

"Tie me and use me as a slave," she begged.

I thonged her hands casually, effciently, behind her back. I then threw her on the grass at my feet.

She reared up on her elbows. "I beg slave rape," she gasped.

I dropped to the grass beside her and put my left hand in her hair, pulling her head back to the grass. I pulled it back, and held it, in such a way that she must look back, and up, at the sky. I broke off a long stalk of grass.

It had been four days since we had crossed the Northern Kaiila. In our passage we had seen, to our right, Council Rock, rearing high, almost anomalously, our of the plains, prominent amidst a group of smaller, associated bluffs.

"Master?" she asked.

I began to tease her with the stalk of grass.

"Are they near?" I asked Cuwignaka.

"Yes," he said.

He was sitting nearby, cross-legged, mending one of the traces on the travois.

"Oh, oh!" said the girl.

"Are they armed?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Did you put out a little pemmican?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Oh!" said the girl. "Oh!"

We spoke in Kaiila. The girl did not know this lanuage. She did not even know what we were talking about. In her presence we had discussed the matter only in Kaiila.

"Oh, please, Master, stop!" begged the girl. She began to squirm and whimper. She could not free herself, of course, for my left hand held her hair and my right leg was across her legs. She, helpless, was well held in place.

"I did not want you to do this, Sweet Master," she said. "Please, I beg you, stop!"

She squirmed, recoiling and shuddering, as it pleased me to make her do.

"Oh, please!" she said in misery. "Please, my Master!"

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She did not even know of the proximity of the others. They had been with us since even before we had crossed the Northern Kaiila. They, like the girl, as we had ascertained to our satisfaction, did not understand Kailla, or did not much understand it. We had made remarks in their hearing to which they, if they had understood Kaiila adequately, persumably would have responded, probably by swift flight. It seemed quite clear that they did not know that we were aware of their presence. Sometimes Cuwignaka had left a little pemmican behind at our camp sites, as though inadvertently. It was time, now, we had decided, to make their acquaintance.

"Oh, please, stop, Master!" she begged. "I will do anything! I will do anything!"

"But you must do anyting anyway," I said. "You are a slave."

"Yes, Master!" she cried.

I desisted in touching her body lightly, unexpectedly, here and there, with the stalk of grass.

"Do you think you can yield well?" I asked.

"Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" she gasped.

I put the stalk of grass to the side.

"Kiss," I said.

She reared up on her elbows, struggling, reaching forward, and put her mouth to mine.

Then she lay back, looking at me.

Sometimes, in the cities, one puts women in slave chains, making her helpless, her limbs fastened apart, and then addresses her beauty, lightly, with a feather. In a few moments she is usually begging to serve you in any way you might wish. There are many ways to teach a woman that she is in your power, and truly yours. This is only one.

"Are you subdued?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "totally."

"And how will you yield?" I asked.

"With perfection," she said.

I then began to caress her, with my hands, and with my mouth, my tongue, lips and teeth. She began to moan and whimper.

"They are coming closer," said Cuwignaka casually. "They seem to be interested in your handling of the slave."

I continued to attend to the lovely, bound woman whose use I owned.

She was almost beside herself with orgasmic sensation.

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"Please," she begged. "Yes!" she said.

Then she writhed beneath me, mine.

"Yes," she wept. "Yes!"

"They are quite close now, a few feet away," said Cuwignaka, causally, " a few feet to your right, in the grass, one a bit behind the other."

"Please!" begged the girl.

"Very well," I said.

"I yield me," she cried. "I yield me yours!" She was so marvelous. How glorious are women.

"They seem fascinated," said Cuwignaka.

"Let me know if there is any change in their location," I said.

"I wish that I could hold you," she said.

"You cannot," I said. "You are bound as a slave."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I held her, closely. She pressed herself against me, helplessly. Whether she was held or not was my decision. She could be, if I chose, spurned in a moment, thrust aside in the grass.

I kissed her, softly. She was very beautiful.

"They are changing their position," said Cuwignaka, working on the trace from the travois.

"One is falling back. The other is going for the pemmican."

"All right," I said.

The girl looked up at me, lovingly. Again I kissed her.

"Oh!" she said.

I had leapt from her side. I lunged through the grass. With one hand, before he could leap up, I had seized the young fellow by the collar of his garb and hauled him to his feet.

"Greetings," I said to him, in Gorean.

"Greetings," he stammered. He still clutched the tiny pemmican cake.

I pulled him toward the center of our camp where Cuwignaka, now on his feet, waited. There, too, risen now to her elbows, her hands still tied behind her, startled, was the slave girl, Mira, once the Lady Mira, of Venna, with whom I had been pleasuring myself. On the travois, sleeping, was Hci.

In the grass now, standing, some yards away, frightened, the grass to her waist, was a young girl, some sixteen or seventeen years of age, blond. She, like the young man, wore the garb of the Waniyanpi.

I transferred my hold on the lad's garment to my left hand

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and with my right, beckoned the girl to approach. "Come here," I said.

Timidly, she approached. Then she stood, too, with us.

I released my grip on the lad's garment. "Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Squash," he said.

"I am Strawberry," said the girl.

"We have been following you," said the lad.

"We know," I said.

"We took pemmican," said the lad. "Are you going to kill us for stealing?"

"It was left for you," I said.

He extended his hand to me. In it was the small cake of pemmican which he had just seized up from the grass. "I took this, just now," he said.

"You are male," I said. "It is yours."

He looked at me, puzzled. "I am not a male," he said. "And she is not a female. We are Waniyanpi."

"That is all over now," I said.

The girl was looking at Mira, fascinated. "Turnip," she asked. "is it you?"

"She was once Turnip," I said. "She is now Mira, a slave girl. She cannot respond to you. I have not given her permission to speak."

The girl looked at me, in awe.

"Turn over on your side, Slave," I said. "Show them that your hands are thonged."

Immediately Mira obeyed. The young man and woman saw that her wrists were tightly bound with thongs.

"Be now as you were before," I said, "up on your elbows."

Immediately Mira obeyed.

"What is that on her neck?" she asked, referring to the narrow, dark, braided rawhide rope, looped three times about the slave's neck and knotted before her throat, the two loose ends dangling between her breasts.

"It serves as a slave collar," I said.

"I see," said the girl, stepping back a bit. She put down her head. She drew a quick breath. She blushed.

"You may lie down," I told the slave.

She lay back in the grass, naked and bound, near our feet.

"You two are far from your compound, are you not?" I asked.

"Yes," said the young man, putting down his head.

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"We were recently at a Waniyanpi compound," I said. "It was Compound Eleve, I believe."

The young man did not respond.

"That was your compound, was it not?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"We heard there of two young people who were put out of the compound, a young man and a young woman," I said. "Doubtless you are those two."