Blood Brothers of Gor (63 page)

"She has experienced the might of men, and knows what they can do," I said.

The women in the leather shackles, then, wiht her wrists bound before her body, suddenly sobbed, and shook with ungovernable, overwhelming emotion. The movement, like a shudder, had been unrestrained, uncontrollable. Something

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deep and profound had obviously occurred within her. "Yes," she whispered to herself. "Yes!"

She put her head down and, unbidden, tenderly, submissively, softly, began to kiss the feet of Seibar.

"Look up," said Seibar.

She lifted her head. Her eyes were moist. They were incredibly soft and tender. I think that never before had she seen Seibar like that.

"And doubtless you, too, subscrive to the discourse of the slave," said Seibar, indicating Mira.

"With but one exception, yes," said the leather-bound woman.

"Oh?" asked Seibar.

"She is mistaken in one detail," she said.

"What is that?" asked Seibar.

"She said that there were two women who knelt before you, one bond and one free. In this sshe was in error. There were two women who knelt before you, but one was not bond and one free. Both were bond."

Mira, tears in her eyes, suddenly seized the woman bound beside her, and kissed her.

I took Mira by the hair and threw her to the side.

"Yes," said the leather-bound woman looking up at Seibar. "I am bond."

"Beware of the words you speak," said Seibar. This was true. Such words, in themselves, in the appropriate context, effected enslavement. Intention, and such, is immaterial, for one might always maintain that one had not meant them, or such. The words themselves, in the appropriate context, are suffcient. Whether one means them or not one becomes, in their utterance, instantly, categorically and without recourse, fully and legally a slave, soemthing with which masters are then entitled
 
to do with as they please. Such words are not to be spoken lightly. They are as meaningful as the collar, as significant as the brand.

"The words I speak, I speak knowingly," she said.

"Speak clearly," he said.

"I herewith proclaim myself a slave," she said. "I am a slave."

"You are now a slave," I said to her, "even in the cities. You are property. You could be returned to a master as such in a court of law. This is something which is recognized even outside of the Barrens. This is much stronger, in that sense, than being the slave of Kaiila or Yellow Knives."

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"I know," she said.

Seibar looked down upon her.

"I am now a legal slave," she said.

He nodded. It was true.

"A few moments ago," she said. "I for the first time confessed myself to myself a slave, a confession which I now acknowledge and make public. For years I have known that I was a slave, but I had denied this, and fought it. Then, suddenly, I no longer wanted to fight this. When we fight ourselves it is only ourselves which must lose. In that moment I surrndered to my secret truth. What I have done now is little more than to proclaim and make it public that secret truth. Beyond that admission there lies little more than the effectuation of a technicality."

"But the technicality has now been effectuated," said Seibar.

"Yes," she said, putting her head down. "it has now been effectuated."

"Whose slave are you?" he asked.

"You have stripped me, and bound me, as a slave," she said. "I have felt your lash. I am yours."

"Have I collared you?" he asked.

"No," she said, keeping her head down, "but it is my hope that you will do so."

"Have I indicated any intrest in having you as a slave?" he asked. "Have I given you any reason to believe that I
 
might accept you as a slave?"

"No," she said, keeping her head down, "you haven't."

"Whose slave would you be?" he asked.

"Yours," she said.

"Speak," he said.

She raised he head, but did not meet his eyes. "I am Seibar's slave," she said.

"Now, perhaps I will give you to another," he said.

She still did not meet his eyes. "It may be done with me as you please," she said.

"Do you think I do not understand," he said, angrily, "that you have made yourself my slave in the hope that you might thereby escape the fate of being out into the Barrens?"

"Whatever might have been my motivation," she said, "the fact remains, in any case, that I am now fully your slave, and may be done with wholly as you wish."

"You had your chance to go nobly into the Barrens, with

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the dignity of the free woman. Now perhaps I shall have you put out in shame, in the dishonor of a slave!"

"You may do with me as you please," she said, softly.

"Whould that not be amusing?" he asked angrily.

"Yes," she said, "very amusing." She looked at him, with tears in her eyes. "If I am to be put out," she said, "may I beg one boon,"

"What is that?" he asked.

"Your collar," she said. "Put it on my neck. Tie some knot in it which is yours, so that if men find me they may say, 'Here see this knot. It is a Seibar's. This woman was his slave'."

"You ask for my collar?" he said.

"I beg it," she said.

He took one of the straps he had used in her whipping. He looped it twice about her neck and tied it.

"You have it," he said.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She then lifted her head to his, where he crouched down before her, and tried to touch her lips to his. Her small hands moved futilely in their bonds, at her knees.

He did not permit her lips to touch his. "That would be touching, would it not?" he asked, ironically.

"Yes," she whispered.

"How clever you are!" he said, angrily. "What a sly, scheming, shameless she-sleen you are!"

"how you must hate me," she said.

"Do you think I cannot see through your games, your trickery?" he cried.

"Do you think it is only because I do not want to die?" she wept. "Do you think it is only because I do not want to be put out into the Barrens?"

"Yes!" he said.

"No," she said. "No!"

"No?" he asked.

"No!" she wept.

"Speak," he said, angrily. "I grow weary."

"But I am a slave," she said, frightened. She looked at me, pleadingly, for understanding.

"Accordingly, miserable, imbonded slut," I said, "you must speak the truth."

She put down her head. She squirmed in her bonds.

"Must a command be repeated?" asked Seibar.

She lifted herhead, tears in her eyes. "I am a slave," she

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said, "and I must tell the truth. Forgive me. I beg you. Forgive me. Beat me if you wish."

"Yes?" said Seibar.

"I want your touch," she said. "I beg it!"

"Shameless slave," he chided.

"As a slave may be, and should be," she said.

He regarded her, not speaking.

"For two years," she said, "I have wanted to be your slave, to be subject to your will, to be owned by you, if it should please you, your lash."

"Lying slave," he snarled.

"I want to obey you," she said.

"Lying slave!" he said.

"I love you," she said.

"Liar!" he said.

"Alas," she said, "how can I convince you?"

"You cannot!" he cried.

"Of course not," she said, "if you will not permit it."

"Put your hands on her body," I said.

Seibar put his hands on her body.

"I love you," she said.

I touched her. "She speaks the truth," i said.

"I love you," she said. "Kiss me. Then put me out, if you wish. I will then go gladly, if it be your will."

He kissed her. I smiled. Then, with a cry of rage, of frustration, he struck her across the mouth. She then lay on her side on the dirt floor.

"Do you think she speaks the truth?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "if I were you, I would give her a trial. See if she works out. If she does not prove satisfactory, she may always, then, be put out."

Seibar kicked the girl, with the side of his foot. "what is your name?" he asked.

"I have no name," she said.

"It is a fitting response," I said.

"A slave's response?" asked Seibar.

"Yes," I said.

"Do you think she is truly a slave?" asked Seibar.

"Yes," I said, "that is obvioius. It is now only a question of whether or not you have any intrest in her."

Seibar looked down at her.

"What is a fitting name for a slave?" he asked.

" 'Tuka'," I said. "That is not a bad name." 'Tuka' is a

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common slave name on Gor. It is simple, sensuous and luscious. Most masters have probably known one or more girls with that name.

"You are Tuka," said Seibar, naming her.

"I am Tuka," she whispered, happily, named.

"Kneel," said Seibar. The girl struggled to her knees. She looked up at him. There was love in her eyes. He looked down at her, an incredible tenderness in his countenance. I saw that he must guard against weakness. But I felt sure that he would do so. Only too well would he be aware of the penalties and consequences attached to weakness, consequences ultimately tragic for the welfare of both sexes.

"Shall I open the gat?" asked a man.

"No," said Seibar. "The slave, at least for a time, will be kept."

The men and women in the lodge let out a cheer. Mira rushed to Tuka and kissed her.

"Well done," I said to Seibar.

"I am a slave. I am your slave," said the dark-haired girl kneeling before Carrot.

"I am a slave. I am your slave," said the blond, kneeling before Cabbage.

One my one the Waniyanpi women, timidly, beautifully, knelt before various men, imbonding themselves to these new masters.

I hope they knew well what they were doing, for they were then slaves.

Men and women, crying out with pleasure, with tears, in floods of emotion, kissed, and touched one another, and loved.

"We can take the bodies of the Yellow Knives away," said Cuwignaka to seibar. "We will cut them up and leave them on the prairie. No one, thusly, will know that they met their end here."

"That will be helpful," said Seibar.

"Thusly, too," I said, "you may then return to being Waniyanpi, if you wish."

Seibar looked about. "We will fortify the compound," he said. "We will never again be Waniyanpi."

"There is always time to be a coward," I said.

"We have tasted manhood," said Seibar. "We will never go back. We will not die, or be men."

"It might be well, for a time," I said, "to express your

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manhood only within the secrecy of your own lodge. It might be well, for a time, to pretend to be still Waniyanpi."

Seibar smiled.

"I have a plan," I said.

"I did not think that your visit here was one of a purely social nature," he said.

"Free your slave of hr bonds," I suggested. "You will, anyway, later tonight, not want her ankles so closely tied. She may then serve us, while we talk."

"You would speak before slaves?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. "They are only slaves."

"Masters?" asked Tuka, kneeling, holding the tray. We took the fried maize cakes from the tray. Then the tray was empty, save for one object, a segment of a dried root, about two to three inches long and half inch wide.

"Open your mouth," said Seibar to Tuka.

She did so immediately, unquestioningly.

"This is for you," he said.

She nodded.

He broke the root in two and thrust it in her mouth. "Chew it well," he said, "and swallow it, every particle."

She nodded.

"Open your mouth," he said.

She did so. The sip root, every bit of it, was gone.

"You may now take the tray away, and then return," he said.