John Norman: Conspirators of Gor

“Never!” said Eve.

“This is your punishment,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “There is still time for you to leave the house.”

Jane began to sob.

“The guests, and your sisters, will think this all a matter of the lots,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “Thus, in a sense, your fault, your punishment, will be concealed, and yet, in a way, its consequences will be well revealed.”

“You would have us be as kajirae?” said Jane, aghast.

“Slave girls- Gorean slave girls?” whispered Eve, scarcely daring to form the words.

“Precisely,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

“But the fellows would not stand for such a thing,” said Eve. “They would object. They would rush to rescue us.”

“Do not be too sure of that,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “I think they will see it as all in the spirit of good fun. Too, I suspect that most will be pleased to see you, or any number of other young women, so. Further, the young men will be informed that any attempt to interfere with matters will result in their immediate ejection. I think things will go splendidly.”

“How will we be clothed?” I asked.

“I have decided that,” she said.

“As I understand it,” I said, “kajirae are commonly clothed sedately, in long gowns, if with bared arms, at such feasts, that is, if free women should be present?”

One scarcely dared conjecture how they might serve, if free women were not present.

“Not always,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “particularly if the kajirae would be recent captures from an enemy city, or, say, enslaved rivals of the free women attending the feast, or such.”

“I gather,” I said, “that we are not then to be allowed the dignity of lengthy, concealing gowns.”

“No,” she said.

“You would dare have us appear in public in less?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“No, no!” said Jane.

“It is all in good fun,” she said.

“How then,” asked Eve, “are we to be clothed?”

“Obviously then,” I said, “in a garmenture appropriate to slaves.”

“Tunics, then,” said Jane, in misery, “tunics fit for slaves, slave tunics.”

“I am sure,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “that you would all look quite fetching in such tunics, slave tunics, particularly of the sort designed by men, by means of which the beasts boast of the lineaments of their properties.”

“I will never put such a thing on!” exclaimed Jane.

“Never!” said Eve.

“Never!” I said.

“We might perish of mortification!” said Jane.

“Scarcely so,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

“Still!” I exclaimed.

The thought of myself in such a garment was shocking, insupportable, so exhibited, so displayed! How unthinkable, would be such a thing!

It would be as though I were a slave!

“I gather, from men,” she said, “that such things are extremely attractive.”

“They demean a woman,” said Jane.

“How can one demean a slave?” she asked.

“But you need have no fear,” she said. “I have no intention of putting you in slave tunics.”

We exchanged glances, of relief.

“You will not wear slave tunics,” she said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Rawlinson,” we said.

“No,” she said, “you will not be allowed such dignity. You will serve in camisks, all of you, in the common camisk.”

“Never!” we cried.

“Remain on your knees,” she said.

The camisk is a narrow rectangle of cloth, with an opening in the center. It is slipped over the head, and belted snugly, commonly with a double loop of thong or binding fiber, this fastened with a slip knot at the left hip, that it may be convenient to a right-handed man. The double loop provides enough thong or binding fiber to bind the occupant, helplessly, hand and foot. The slip knot at the waist of the camisk is similar to the disrobing loop at the left shoulder of some slave tunics, by means of which the garment may be conveniently removed, a simple tug loosening it, permitting it to fall gracefully about the ankles of its occupant.

“We will never wear such things,” said Eve.

“It seems expulsion is in order,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

“No!” we wept.

“Would you prefer to serve naked?” she inquired.

“No, no!” we said.

“It is not unusual for a Gorean feast to be so served by kajirae,” she said.

I did not doubt that.

“Many men claim it improves the appetite,” she said.

“No, no,” whimpered Eve, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“I am told so,” said Mrs. Rawlinson.

“Relent, be kind,” pleaded Jane.

“But many,” she said, “prefer the tunic, or camisk. It gives them something to remove.”

“You would punish us so?” I wept.

“Your fault was grievous,” she said. “You may beg to be permitted a camisk.”

“I beg to be permitted a camisk,” said Eve.

“I beg to be permitted a camisk,” said Jane.

“I beg,” I said, “to be permitted a camisk.”

“It is all in good fun,” she said.

Jane, Eve, and I exchanged glances, of dismay, and misery. We would be almost nude, exhibited, as might be slaves, and the others would be fully clothed, veiled, robed, and such.

Clearly she had conceived a suitable punishment for such as we, a punishment fully appropriate, given our fault, having dared to read of a natural world.

“Your left ankles,” she said, “will be encircled several times with small, colored cords, on which bells will be threaded. Slaves are often belled. It stimulates the men.”

We looked at one another, miserable.

“Collars, too, would be appropriate,” she said. “One would not wish your necks to be naked. Common dog collars will do for you, particularly as you are bitches. But they will be locked on your neck. You will know yourself well in them. Small padlocks will do, to which I shall hold the key.”

Eve began to cry.

“I assume you will all know enough to kneel in the presence of free persons, save when you are serving, fetching, and such.”

I nodded, in misery.

And Nora, and her clique, and the others, would be such, free persons!

“You will all need a little coaching,” she said, “in posture, grace, and such, which I shall supply, but the important thing is that you should know yourself as slaves, that you should understand that, fully, in the deepest roots of you. Given that understanding, much will come quite naturally. Most of your serving, I assure you, will be quite proper, quite innocent. For example, in serving wine to a male you need only do so on your knees, your head down, extending the goblet, held in both hands, between your extended arms. You need have little fear that you will be expected to serve wine in the typical Gorean fashion, which is so stimulating to a male, and, I might observe, in passing, too, so helplessly and erotically stimulating to the slave as well. One would not wish you to be dragged to the kitchen by the hair, and enjoyed on the linoleum, would we?”

“No,” we whispered.

“But Mrs. Rawlinson,” said Eve, “if the boys see us thusly, how will they see us?”

“As lusciously desirable,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “but only as slaves.”

“What if we do not do well?” said Jane.

“I am sure you will do well, very well,” said Mrs. Rawlinson. “And remember, the guests will be furnished with switches.”

We recalled this.

“It is unpleasant to be switched,” she said. “You will try to do your best, will you not?”

We looked to one another.

“Yes,” we said.

“And remember,” she said, “you are to address all free males as Master, and all free females as Mistress. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” we said.

“Yes, Mrs. Rawlinson,” she suggested.