John Norman - Guardsman of Gor

“That was not necessary,” I said.

“I am now well aware of that, Master,” she said. “I did not know it at the time, however.”

I said nothing.

“My behavior, however foolish it might have been, was motivated by a desire to be kept in bondage,” she whispered. “Perhaps now you will think more understandingly, more pityingly, of your girl.”

“So you desire to be a slave?” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said, “fervently.”

“And you are a slave,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said, “completely.”

“Do you think that you are free, or that you have any rights whatsoever?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said. “I know that such delusions are not permitted to a Gorean slave girl.”

“Do you not fear your bondage?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said, “and sometimes we fear it terribly, the uncertainty and the terrors of it, knowing that men can do with us what they please, but these things heighten our experience, adding zest and spice to it, making it more meaningful, and, too, without them, we know that we would not truly be in bondage, which is the condition for which we yearn.”

“So you accept the miseries and terrors of bondage?” I asked.

“Willingly, and gladly, Master,” she said, “and did we not do so then unwillingly and tremblingly must we accept them, for we are slaves.”

“Do you like being a slave?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“You are worthless, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said, “except in so far as I might have some small value as a man’s slave. I do not know my current market value.”

I, too, did not know her current market value. Such things can shift from day to day. They are subject to considerable variance, being functions of many factors, such as the girl herself, her intelligence, and training and beauty, the money in the economy, the conditions of supply and demand, and even the market in which she is sold and the time of year that she is put upon the block. A girl who is sold in a prestige market and, in the afternoon before her sale, placed with other lovely inmates within the chromed, ornate bars of an exhibition cage, has moved and posed upon the instructions of prospective bidders, is almost certain to bring a higher price than another girl, who by the hair, is pulled from a crowded, wooden, bolted cage and thrown upon a sales platform, or who, say, is sold from one of the cement, public viewing shelves of a common street market.

Too, generally girls bring higher prices in the spring. I have little doubt that there is some intensification of the slaving done on Earth at a certain time of year, that the captured girls may be brought to the spring markets. Many Earth-girl slaves, on Gor, comparing notes, discover that they were sold in the spring. The more intelligent among them realize that this is not likely to have been a coincidence. They then have a deeper and more active appreciation of the intelligence, methodicality and organization of the men who saw fit to bring them to Gor.

Suddenly, angrily, I lashed her with the whip. She shuddered, struck. “Do you like that?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said, “but I love it that you can do it to me, and will, if I am not pleasing to you.”

I walked around, before her. “Worthless little trollop,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Are you conquered?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said, “I am conquered.”

“Totally?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said, “totally.”

“Can a man respect such a conquered woman?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said. “But perhaps I might have the interest of the conquered slave for him.”

I crouched down before her. She was still on all fours.

“You are a poor slave,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Yet,” I said, lifting her chin with the whip, “you are pretty.”

“In a trivial and servile way,” she smiled.

“Yes,” I said. “And, too,” I said, “you have good slave reflexes.”

“Which you have not seen fit to exploit, my Master,” she whispered.

“I wonder if I should sell you,” I said.

“Please do not sell me, Master,” she said.

“I will if it pleases me,” I said.

“Of course, my Master,” she said.

I lowered the whip, and, crouching before her, continued to regard her.

“Is Master truly thinking of selling me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. She had displeased me this evening. Too, I thought I saw her this evening more objectively than ever before I had seen her. I saw her now as little more than a pretty triviality.

“I would bring so low a price,” she whispered, “that perhaps Master might keep me.”

I stood up, whip in hand. I looked down upon her, on all fours before me. There was something in what she said. She would probably not bring a high price. Perhaps she might as well be kept, at least for the time. There did not seem much point, at least at the moment, in sending her to a market. Too, she was pretty, if only in a trivial, servile way. Too, she had good slave reflexes. Surely I could find uses for her around the house.

“Master?” she asked.

I walked around, behind her.

“Master?” she asked, frightened. She knew she might now be unexpectedly lashed.

“I shall keep you, at least for the time,” I said, “to see if you work out.”

“I shall endeavor to work out, Master,” she cried, joyfully.

“Am I to be kept in full slavery?” she asked, not daring to look around.

“Yes,” I said.

“In what slavery, or slaveries, will Master place me?” she asked.

I looked at her position. “Perhaps in the slavery of the she-quadruped,” I said.

“Master may do so, if he wishes,” she said, “if it pleases him, or amuses him.”

In this form of slavery, which is commonly used for disciplinary purposes, or for the amusement of the master, the woman is not permitted to arise from all fours; similarly she is not permitted human speech, though she may signify needs and desires by such means as cringing, and moaning and whimpering. Not permitted the use of her hands, save as a means of locomotion, she must also eat and drink from pans set on the floor, or, sometimes, to satisfy her thirst, she must lap the water permitted to her from puddles or lick spillages from the tiles; too, it is not uncommon to chain her near her master’s feet, while he dines, that he may, if he wishes, throw her scraps of food. She will also be taught tricks, through which paces she may be put for the entertainment of her master’s guests, such things as begging, lying down, rolling over, and fetching his sandals in her teeth. And, needless to say, when her master wishes to use her sexually, it will be in a position common to the she-quadruped.

This form of slavery, incidentally, is often imposed on captured Ubaras. After a time, it is not unusual for the Ubara, on her belly before her master, given an Ehn in which to speak, to beg, in lieu of the slavery of the she-quadruped, that she be taught the salacious arts and lascivious dances of the female slave, that she may then be less a more amusement for her master than a feast of slave pleasure for him. Her plea is usually granted. Such women tend to become superb slaves. They know, of course, that they may be, at any moment the master pleases, returned to the slavery of the she-quadruped.

I walked around, before the girl. “You may kneel,” I said.

“Thank you, Master,” she cried, joyfully. She was not then, at least, to be put into the slavery of the she-quadruped. She looked up at me. “I love you. I love you, my Master,” she said.

“Kiss the whip,” I told her.

“Yes, Master!” she said. She kissed it, fervently, again and again. The former Miss Henderson, of Earth, kneeling naked before me, now knowingly my collared slave, kissed my whip.