John Norman - Guardsman of Gor

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“And, too,” he smiled, “I wish to anticipate the pleasures which I am shortly to derive from you.”

“Yes, Master,” she laughed, and hurried down the stairs ahead of him.

I then closed the door, and threw the bolts and bars in place. I then turned and looked at the small slave standing near me. “Go to a place near the table,” I said, “and kneel there on the tiles, with your head bowed, deferentially.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, and hurried to obey. I then went about the house, locking and securing it. The dancers, and their master, of course, had gone long ago. I had made many improvements in the house. I set the bars and bolts in place at the back door; leading from the kitchen. I attended, too, to the windows. When I returned to the vicinity of the table the house, in effect, had been transformed into a small fortress.

I looked at the small slave, kneeling, head down, on the scarlet tiles, in the light of the lamps.

“We are alone,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“You may lift your head,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

I walked about her, examining her. She was very beautiful.

“May I speak, Master?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“You brought three binding straps to the table,” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“But you brought none for me?”

“No,” I said.

“Ah,” she said.

“Your gift to me, your performance, during the course of the black wine,” I said, “was very beautiful.”

“Thank you, Master,” she said. “But it was not a mere entertainment. I had long fantasized stripping myself before you, and offering myself to you as your slave.”

“Really?” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “And in many fashions, and ways.”

“You shall enact these for me in the future,” I said.

“I shall be pleased to do so, Master,” she said.

“How long have you entertained these fantasies?” I asked.

“Even on Earth,” she said. “I can even recall attempting to decide what might be the most sensuous way I could remove a bikini before you.”

I took her by the upper arms and put her forward, on her belly, on the tiles, and then I crossed her wrists behind her body, and her ankles. It is a standard binding position. She then retained this position, not having been given permission to break it, while I went to the tiles at the foot of the table and gathered up the two golden straps with which, earlier, she had simulated the footwear she had worn at the restaurant. I then returned to her side and crouched down. I then began to tie her, her wrists with one of the straps, and her ankles with the other.

“Had you fantasized thusly,” I asked, tying her, “the removal of your clothing, the white-sheath gown, and such, and the offering of yourself to me as a slave, on the night of our meeting at the restaurant?”

She winced. I checked the knots.

I then turned her to her back.

“Yes, Master,” she said, looking up at me, “but then, of course, I did not know that slaves were not permitted purses nor, without their master’s explicit permission, a nether closure to their garments.”

I stood up, and looked down at her.

“You have tied me,” she said. “I am helpless! You own me!”

“But you were testy, ill-tempered, belligerent in the restaurant,” I said.

She squirmed on the tiles, bound. “I was a confused Earth woman,” she said. “I did not know what to do!”

She tried to pull her ankles apart. “Please untie my ankles, Master,” she begged. “Let me throw them apart for you!”

“It seems you now know what to do,” I said.

“I did not know then what I was,” she sobbed. “I know now what I am! Please untie me now, Master! Please let me serve you!”

“You will be untied if, and when, I please,” I told her. “Yes, Master!” she sobbed. I then sat down, cross-legged, a few feet from her. I wished to think. She was an interesting, complex slave.

The former graduate student in English literature, bound, nude and collared, struggled to her knees. She looked at me.

“It is rather different from Earth, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Do you know your place, and condition?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said. “My place is at your feet. My condition is that of a slave.”

I then gave myself to thought.

“Master,” she asked, “may I speak?”

“No,” I told her.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

I then considered many things, Earth and its miseries, the nature of life, genetic endowments, biology, civilizations, chains and collars, and the small, excruciatingly desirable, curvaceous beasts that are human females.

I heard her whimper. I looked up. “Yes?” I said.

“May I speak, Master?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Thank you for tying me,” she whispered.

I nodded. In tying her I had, of course, demonstrated her desirability for me. She was worth tying. Too, I had demonstrated for her, in a way that is incontrovertible for a female, my mastery over her. I had tied her. Too, of course, I had enjoyed tying her, making her helpless and mine. It is a great pleasure for a man to tie a woman. It is interesting to consider, when one thinks of it, that there are probably many men who, in all their lives, have never tied a woman. These, of course, are not Gorean men.

I stood up, and looked down at her. She shrank back. This amused me.

“Alas,” she said, lightly, “now I must clear the table, and finish the dishes, and put the house in order.”

“Such things can wait,” I told her.

“Oh,” she said.

I continued to regard her.

“Doubtless I am now to be locked in my kennel for the night,” she said.

“No,” I said.

“Oh,” she said.

I continued to regard her, amused. She squirmed on her knees.

“Master gave away two girls tonight,” she said, lightly. “But he kept me. He kept me in his collar.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Is that meaningful?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” I said.

“I am now the only girl in the house,” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Am I to be kept for full service?” she asked.

“Doubtless you have much to learn of cooking and sewing,” I said, “but I have no doubt that you are already a superb little maid and laundress.”

“Does Master intend to buy other girls?” she asked.

“That will be decided later,” I said.

“I shall endeavor to be such that master will find the purchase of others girls unnecessary,” she said.

“But then,” I said, “you would have to render a full service.”

She put her head down, shyly. “It is my desire,” she said, “to render my master a full service.”

“A full Gorean service?” I asked.

“Despise me, if you must, my Master,” she said, “but the answer is a most emphatic ‘Yes!’”

“It had better be,” I said.

“It is,” she laughed. “It is, my Master!”

I walked over to her, and looked down into her eyes.

“But will you not, sometimes, remember that you knew me from Earth?”

“Yes,” I said.

“But you made me serve your guests naked,” she said, reproachfully.

“Of course,” I said. “There were two reasons for that. Neither of them, of course, need be made known to you.”

“Please, Master,” she said.

“The first reason,” I said, “was for your own instruction. In performing such servile tasks for the guests, and while naked, were you not fully conscious that you were a slave?”

“Quite, Master,” she said. “I am certain that I have profited well from the lesson.”

“Secondly,” I said, “you are very pretty. Thus your nudity contributed to the pleasure of the guests and myself, thereby improving the course of the liqueurs.”