John Norman - Kur of Gor

Cabot had watched the brunette in her service. Her movements now were stiff, almost wooden. Tears had coursed down her cheeks. She did not meet his eyes. He did not summon her to him.

Only seven or eight fellows, mostly half asleep, were still about the fire. Some three slaves were about, in case anything might be needed.

Corinna, who had remained at service, looked to Cabot, and he nodded.

Corinna then fetched a goblet of paga, and went to the brunette slave, and spoke to her. The brunette shook her head piteously, negatively, but Corinna was firm, and was not to be gainsaid, and pressed the goblet into her hands, and indicated Cabot.

The brunette approached Cabot, and knelt before him. She lifted the goblet toward him, holding it in both hands. Her head was down, between her extended arms.

"Wine, Master?” she said.

"It seems paga,” said Cabot.

The slave looked up, and drew back the goblet a bit.

"We have no wine,” she said.

"That is known to me,” said Cabot.

Again she put down her head, and offered the goblet.

"Wine, Master,” she said.

"You understand this, do you not?” asked Cabot.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

"You offer me your wine,” said Cabot.

"Yes, Master,” she said. “But reject my wine, as I know you will. Do not play longer with me. I have suffered enough. I know now you despise me. You have not touched me. I know I am only an ignorant Earth-girl, who finds herself unaccountably in a man's collar. I cannot dance. I do not know the kisses. I cannot compete with the Corinnas of the camp. I am not Gorean. I am only an ignorant Earth girl."

"You might try to interest me,” said Cabot.

"Please do not mock me,” she said.

"Kiss the goblet,” said Cabot, kindly. “Lingeringly. And regard me while you do so. Now lift your head and touch the goblet, lightly, to your collar, so that you hear the sound."

"Please do not make me do these things!” she said. “You do not know what it is doing to me, how it makes me feel!"

"You have lovely breasts,” said Cabot. “Now touch the goblet lightly to each of them, first the left, then the right. Make certain you clearly feel the touch, pressing it in a bit."

"Master!” she protested.

"Now lower the goblet to your belly,” he said, “and, while first looking at me, and then, secondly, down to the goblet, press the rim into your belly, firmly."

Tears coursed down her cheeks.

"You may now,” he said, “offer me wine."

She then put her head down, again, between her extended arms, the goblet grasped with both hands.

"Wine, Master?” she said.

Cabot did not respond, and the slave kept her head down.

"I offer you my wine, Master,” she said. “Please accept my wine, Master. Please, Master, accept my wine!"

She gasped as Cabot, gently, took the goblet from her hands. She looked up at him, lips trembling, tears in her eyes. He took a tiny sip of the drink, and then handed the goblet to a fellow next to him, who seized it gratefully, groggily, drunkenly.

"You stupid girl,” called Corinna to her, laughing, from across the fire. “Hurry to his blankets!"

The slave sped into the darkness.

Cabot rose, and went to his blankets, where the slave, in the darkness, was waiting for him.

He took the slave in his arms.

"Choose me, choose me,” she begged.

"Perhaps,” he said.

She lifted her lips to his.

"What are you?” he asked.

" Kajira ,” she whispered. “ Kajira , Master."

"Anything else, or other, or different?” he asked.

"No, Master,” she said. “ Kajira , only kajira ."

"Good,” he said. “That is how we want women."

"And that,” she said, “is how men such as you will have us, and how we would be!"

"Speak,” he said, softly.

" La kajira ,” she said. “ La kajira !"

"I am a female slave,” she said. “I am a female slave!"

"I am a slave girl,” she said. “I am a slave girl!"

"And whose?” he asked.

"Yours, Master,” she said. “Yours, Master."

"My dear Cabot,” said Lord Arcesilaus, “it is so good to see you again, here in the habitats. We have missed you. Lord Grendel returned a few days ago. And there you are, Peisistratus! I see you have several of your fellows with you. I take it you know our colleague and ally, Lord Zarendargar. I gather you, with others, and friend Zarendargar himself, and his people, will soon be leaving us, returning to your various duties and destinations. You and your ships, Peisistratus, of course, may continue to wharf upon our shores, as you wish, for purposes of shelter, supplies, repair, the temporary housing of your goods, or whatnot. Many of your men have been anxious about you, and have earnestly inquired as to your whereabouts. You passed a few days, as I understand it, in the quiet of the forests. It is perhaps just as well. I almost envy you. The festival days are now, as you know, drawing to a close, and it will be a good thing, as I see it, to return to some congenial normality, here. Certainly we will welcome some quietude, after the tumult of the festivals. Matters go well in the agricultural cylinders, and in the industrial cylinder. They were little affected, if at all, by our recent difficulties. Arrangements have been made for various transportations and relocations."

"Where is Lord Grendel?” asked Tarl Cabot.

"He will be here, shortly,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “I have asked him to drop by."

This conversation, and meeting, was taking place outside the palace, on its broad porch, to which led a long flight of wide stairs, some fifty yards in width. The palace grounds themselves were within high walls, but the great gate was now opened, and humans, and Kurii, might come and go within the grounds, and gardens, as they wished.

"I would like to do something nice for Lord Grendel,” said Lord Arcesilaus to Cabot. “What would you suggest?"

"He is muchly concerned with administrative duties, and such,” said Cabot. “I fear there is little in which he would be interested, in the way of emoluments."

"His contributions have been richly recognized, and in detail,” said Lord Arcesilaus. “Without him and his services the world would have been much different from what it is. He has been given several rings."

"He deserves much,” agreed Cabot.

"But he seems little impressed with our gratitude,” said Lord Arcesilaus.

"He is mindful, and grateful, I am sure,” said Cabot, “but he has, for some time, been saddened, and much distressed."

"Surely it has nothing to do with the triviality of his small pet's fate, anything so unimportant?” said Lord Arcesilaus.

"She is not his pet,” said Cabot, “though I can see how you might think of such things, in particular, since she was once your pet. She is, to be precise about the matter, if I may, not his pet, but a free woman."

"Very well,” said Lord Arcesilaus, agreeably. “Very different then, from these others?"

"Yes,” said Cabot, “but these others, to whom you refer, these human females, kneeling, tunicked, and collared, are not pets either. They are less than pets. They are slaves."

There were several such amongst the men. Two we are familiar with, one who had been named ‘Corinna', who was the slave of Peisistratus, and one who had been named ‘Cecily', who was the slave of Tarl Cabot. Both were tunicked rather briefly, as human males like to see the legs of their slaves.

Tarl Cabot had been offered as much as three silver tarsks for his Cecily, but he had chosen, as yet, not to sell her. He was perhaps waiting for a better offer, on Gor.