Savages of Gor (30 page)

"I am at your feet," she said.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Very feminine, very female," she said.

"How do you explain these feelings?" I asked.

"That I am a woman, at the feet of a strong man," she said, "one who dominates me, one who masters me, one whom I must obey."

"You do not speak like a woman of Earth," I said.

"I have learned much on Gor," she said, "and I have learned much this night."

I looked down at her, arms folded.

She put out her fingers, touching the dark blankets. Then, spinning, she looked up at me. "It is where we belong, isn't it, Master?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I have always known it in my heart," she said, "but I never thought it would come true."

I went to pick up her tunic. I felt the blades of wet, cool grass cut at my ankles. I tossed her the tunic. She knelt, holding it. It was tiny, in her hands. On it, dark and wet, moist in its fibers, were the marks of dew.

She clutched the tunic, looking at me. She did not draw it on.

"I am no longer a virgin, Master," she said.

"That is known to me, I assure you," I said.

"I am now only a full and opened slave," she said, "no different from other girls, one, like them, readily available at the master's least desire."

"Yes," I said.

"I am not sore, Master," she said.

I nodded.

"But that does not make any difference, does it?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Master," she whispered.

"Perhaps now you should garb yourself," I said.

"This is garb?" she asked, smiling, holding out the tunic. "It is scarcely a scanty rag."

"It leaves little doubt as to your charms," I admitted.

"It does not even have a nether closure," she said.

"It is not supposed to," I said. "Do you know why?"

"That I may be reminded that I am a slave," she smiled, 'that my vulnerability may be heightened, that I may be invaluable to masters."

"Ginger and Evelyn have taught you that," I said.

"They have taught us many things," she said.

"What about intimate secrets of slave love-making?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

"The little she-sleen are doubtless guarding such secrets from you," I said. "I shall speak to Grunt in the morning. It will not prove to be in their interest to persist in this particular reticence."

"Yes, Master," she said, frightened.

"They will teach you, and the other jewels on the coffle, all they can, and quickly," I said. "Failure will be cause for severe discipline."

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"An ignorant free woman is a commonplace," I said. "An ignorant slave is an absurdity."

"You mean I am actually to be taught how to please man, trained?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "trained, as the lovely animal you are."

She looked at me, frightened.

"And I advise you to learn your lessons well," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You are doubtless familiar, from your former world, with arts such as sewing and cooking, commonly thought appropriate for women," I said.

"Of course, Master," she said.

"Can you cook and sew?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said. "Such arts, I thought, were for lower women."

"You will learn them," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But beyond such arts as cooking and sewing, arts commonly thought appropriate for women, arts with which you are familiar, there are, obviously, many other arts. It should thus come as no surprise to you that among these other should be certain delicate, delicious and intimate arts, particularly appropriate to the female slave."

"I suppose not, Master," she said.

"You are not a wastrel free woman," I said. "You are a slave. You must earn your keep."

She trembled.

"Why do you think you were purchased?" I asked.

She put her small hand before her mouth, fearfully.

"Take your hand away from your mouth," I said. "I would see the lips of the slave."

Swiftly she lowered her hand.

"Straighten your back," I said.

She did so.

"The free woman," I said, "lies down, and waits to see what will happen. The female slave kneels beside her master, and begs to please him. The free woman deems it sufficient that she should exist, the slave girl, on the other hand, is expected not only to exist, but to excel; indeed, she fears only, commonly, that she may not be sufficiently marvelous for her master. It is little wonder that most men find the free woman, in her inertness, her ignorance and arrogance, boring. It is little wonder that most men prefer to order her rival to their furs, the helpless, collared, curvaceous, lascivious, feminine slave."

"I was once a free woman," said the girl.

"There is hope for the free woman," I said. "She may put in a collar, and stripped, and made subject to the whip. She may then, enslaved, be trained, too, for the pleasure of men."

"Yes, Master," whispered the girl.

'Training, then, should not come as a surprise to you," I said. "It is quite natural for female slaves to be given training."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Expect, then, to be trained," I said.

"I shall, Master," she said.

I regarded her.

Suddenly she flung herself on her belly across the dark blankets. She reached to my left ankle and holding it with her small hands, began to kiss at my foot. "Slaves may beg to please their masters, may they not?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I beg to please my Master," she said. Her lips were warm and soft on my foot.

"I am not your master," I said.

"All free men are my masters," she said, "as all free women are my mistresses."

"That is true," I granted her.

"I beg to please you, as my Master," she said, "and, indeed, tonight, in these blankets, you are my master, for it is you who have opened me and to whom I have been consigned in these hours for your pleasure."

It was true. I was her current use-master. In these hours, in my blankets, she must be to me as my own slave. In these hours, in my blankets, for all practical purposes, I owned her.

I felt her tongue.

"Consider me," she whispered, "for your renewed pleasure."

It is pleasant, as you might well imagine, receiving such attentions from a woman. It is particularly pleasant, I assure you, when she is a slave, for then she is owned, and you in do with her what you wish.

"Please, Master," she begged.

"Perhaps," I said.

"Slaves such as I are not trained only by women, are we, Master?" she asked.

"No," I said. "Many Goreans believe that the finest of slave trainers are men, and that only a man with a whip, and total power over a woman, can properly teach her to be slave."

"Do you have a whip, Master?" she asked.

"My belt will do," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But, in my opinion," I said, "This is over simple. I believe that other women, particularly if they are slaves themselves can be superb slave trainers. Many slave houses, of course, maintain both male and female trainers. My own theory that if a girl is to have but one trainer, it is doubtless best for that trainer to be a man, for the girl, in her bondage, is a] most certain to have to relate primarily to men, to please placate and serve them, and so on. On the other hand, I think it is also undeniable that a girl can learn much from another girl, one who has survived, and is surviving, as a slave."

"Surviving?'' she asked.

"Yes," I said, "for the slave girls who are not pleasing are commonly killed."

She put the side of her head fearfully down on my foot.

"Be pleasing," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But most girls," I said, "not only survive as slaves, but thrive as slaves."

"Master?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "You may find this hard to grasp now, but most girls, as you will learn, once they discover its authenticity and inescapability, blossom joyously, submitted, in their bondage; in it they occupy their place in nature; in it, subject to the authority and power of strong men, owned and mastered uncompromisingly as mere slaves, they obtain their deepest biological self-realization, their ultimate fulfillment. In it, in their place in nature, they become women, as outside of it, they cannot. As the true woman is the true slave, no woman can become a true woman who is not a true slave."

"Men and women, then," she said, "are not the same."

"No," I said. "Men are the masters. Women are the slaves. Your world has taught both sexes to strive for what are, in effect, masculine, or neuteristic, values. This produces unhappiness and frustration for both sexes. Hormonally normal women find it difficult or impossible to achieve happiness through the adoption of, in effect, transvestite values. Similarly this perversion of values complicates or precludes, for the glandularly normal male, the achievement of a natural biological fulfillment. Both sexes, then, frequently fail to obtain happiness, or fall far short of the happiness of which they are both capable, that happiness which is a consequence of maintaining a biological fidelity to their separate natures."

"The lies, the hypocrisies, the pretensions of pseudo-masculinity will not be permitted to me on Gor, will they, Master?" she asked.

"Not in the least," I told her, "for you are a slave."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Does this displease you?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

"Does it please you?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Even the girl who does not have a female trainer," I said, "will often seek out more experienced girls, to beg them for their intimate counsels and their secrets of love and beauty. Sometimes she purchases these by such tiny gifts, of food and such, as may be within her province, or by performing portions of the other's labors, and so on. Indeed, much of the chitchat of slave girls, in their gatherings, has to do, in one way or another, with the pleasing of masters."

It is in our best interest to fulfill our duties well," she said.

"But the best trainers you will have," I said, "will be your particular masters, and yourself. There is a specific magic, so to speak, and chemistry, between each master and each slave. Each master is different, and, so, too, deliciously, is each Slave. Each master will train his own girl according to his own interests and tastes, and each girl, in the private and intimate context of the particular master/slave relation, by means of her intelligence and imagination, owned, will train herself to be his special slave, specifically and personally."

"I understand, Master," she said.

"But, even given the uniqueness of each bondage relation," I said, "there are still certain common denominators in all such relations, which must not be lost sight of, such as the legal status of the slave, that she is, ultimately, only an article of property, that she is liable to discipline and punishment, and that she is totally subject to the will of the master."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But beyond this," I said, "Beyond the concern with an individual master, you will learn, more generally, how to be pleasing to men. You may be sold to a stranger, or given to one, or fall into the hands of a stranger, or group of strangers. You may know little or nothing of your master, or masters, other than the fact that he holds total power over you, and he may know little or nothing of you, other than the fact that your lovely hide is marked with the brand of the female slave. You thus begin again, anew, your struggle to convince a master that there may be some point in keeping you about, that there may be some point in putting a bit of gruel in a bowl, or hollowed stone, for you, or thrusting a crust of bread in your mouth. You attempt to convince him of this, of course, even though he is unknown to you, even though he is a total stranger to you, by serving him, and superbly, as a female slave. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes, Master," she said, "that I must learn, in general, how to be pleasing to men."

"Yes," I said, "this any slave girl must learn, such things as the kisses, the touches, the squirmings, the thousand submissions."

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"But, do not fear," I said, "Such modalities are not learned in vain. They will be required of you even by a love master, and, indeed, he will doubtless require them from you with a harshness, an amplitude and exactness far beyond that of a more casual owner."

"But, why, Master?" she asked.

"Because you are," I said, "in the final analysis, as he will wish you to remember, only his slave. Too, do you think he would require less from you, a love slave, than from some more common girl chained at his feet?"