John Norman - Rouge of Gor

"I love it when you are strong with me," said Peggy. She lay beside me on her elbow, the cahin dangling from her collar. "You are a woman," I said."I despise weak men," she said. "I respect only men who will treat me as a woman and do with me what they please. I know I am a woman. I wanted to be treated as one. How can I take my place in the order of nature if men will not treat me as they wishe? That is what I want, to be treated, even with insolence, as men wish. Only then can I know them as my Master and yield to them in my fullness."

"Before," I said, "you wished to be taken with gentleness." "And you did so" she said. "That was then my mood, and I am grateful that you deigned to respect it." "Sometimes I might not," I said. "I know Master," she said. "And then later," she said, "when your appetites grew aan upon you, you took me as a mere slave, with brutality." "You yielded well," I said. "I could not help myself Master," she said.

She then lay beside me and began to kiss at my arm. She took my arm in her two hands, kissing it."You are strong," she whispered.

I did not respond. "Master," she whispered. "Yes," I said. "Have Peggy again, Peggy begs it." "Perhaps," I said. "Perhaps not."She whimpered and put her head against my arm.

I supposed that it was not surprising that women reduced to bondage, collared and branded, denied by the strictures of their condition the mockeries of male imitation, and finindg the impediments to the manifestation of their deepest and most secret nature removed, should gradually find themselves more and more at the mercy of their needs.

I found this amusing, perhaps because I had come from Earth. How humiliating for an Earth girl, in particular, I thought to discover that she now had ignited within her deep feminine needs, for the satisfaction of which she found herself dependent on Masters. This aspect of the sexuality of the female slave, her need as well as her responsiveness, would also be found astonishing by the men of Earth, accustomed only to the suppressed dispositions and conditioned inertnesses of the women with which he is familiar. It is not unusual for a slave girl to kneel, head down, before even a hated Master and beg his touch. Slavers, not unoften, deprive a female slave of a man's touch for two or three days before her sale. She then, almost invariably, brings a higher price. Her need, manifested in her piteous display of herself, i her physical attitudes, her gestures and expressions, is evident and often arousing to the buyers. How many women of Earth, I wondered, strip themselves slowly before a man and then kneels before him, and kiss his feet, and then looking up, beg him for his touch. Perhaps only those who are slave girls.

"Your are chained," I said. "Yes Master," she said. I took Peggy's chain in my hand and jerked it, lightly, but firmly. She felt the chain then pull at the snug collar and jerk it against the back of her neck. "You are truly chained," I said. "Yes, Master," she said."Why are you chained?" I asked.

"It pleased Master to chain me," she said. She kissed me."Please Master," she said. "have your chained slave?"

"Perhaps," I said, "Perhaps not."She sobbed in frustration and continued to kiss me.

Even with girls used to slavery, who have well learned their collars, of course, the chain never loses its meaning. Masters commonly use it, even with experienced girls. It never looses its effect.

"Please Master," she sobbed. "Be silent," I said. "Yes, Master," she said, sobbing. Sometimes a slave girl must be struck away from one's feet. Sometimes she must be chained to one side, to a wall or in a corner.

I laughed. "Master?" she asked. I then took her in my arms and threw her, roughly, beneath me.She cried out with pleasure.

"What is that sound?" I asked. "You make a slave very happy Master," she said snuggled beside me."Do you not hear it?" I asked. "I hear conversation, the clink of goblets from the floor of the tavern," she said.

"Sandals!" I suddenly snapped.

A Gorean command need not be repeated. Peggy startled wild-eyed, rose to her knees and seized my sandals. I stood up bending over in the low alcove. I pulled on my tunic. She thrust the sandals to her lips, kissing them. "Master?" she asked. She placed the sandals on my feet, thonging them tightly. I buckled my belt, with its dependent pouch. I slung the sword belt with its attached scabbard with its sheathed steel over my left shoulder."Master?" asked Peggy.

"Can you not hear it?" I asked.

She finished tying my sandals. As she knotted each, she kissed the know and then when fished with both, put her head to my feet in a graceful gesture of submission. Tying his sandals, and often thusly, is a small, homely service often performed by the slave girl for her Master. Then she looked up at me, puzzled.

"Now," I said, "cannot you hear it?"

"The conversation has stopped on the floor of the tavern, " she said frightened. "It is quiet there." "Listen," I said."I hear it!" she said. "What is it?"

"It is an alarm bar, I said. "It is coming from the wharves," I said."What does it mean?" she asked. I began to unbuckle the leather curtains of the alcove swiftly. "I do not know," I said."Where are you going," she asked."To the wharves," I said.

"Do not go!" she said. I threw back the curtains. I looked back at her. She knelt frightened on the furs the chain on her neck. "Do not go," she begged.I turned about and made my way rapidly through the tables. I heard her sob and jerk at the chain in frustration but if of course held her perfectly. The men among whom I strode had not risen to their feet. None met my eyes. None volunterred to accompany me. "Do not go," advised Tasdron. I did not answer him, but left the tavern and then, running, made my way toward the wharves.

"Stand back, lest you be hurt!" cried a man.

I was seized by two men, citizens, and dragged back into the encircling crowd. I was bleeding. My tunic was cut. The sword of the pirate, in a drunken swing, had grazed my chest. Other citizens, with ship poles, of the sort used on Gorean galleys in casting off and thrusting from the wharves, pressed back the crown. I felt the side of the pole against my belly. I was jostled by the crowd. The priate turned away, laughing.

"Where are the guardsmen of Port Cos?" I asked. "Where are the guardsmen of Ar's Station?" There were several guardsmen from each of these towns in Victoria. There was smoke in the air. Five warehouses and some ancillary buildings were afire.

"They maintain their posts," said a man grimly. "They protect their own headquarters."Victoria is not their concern," said a man bitterly.

I watched the pirates, perhaps some 50 or 60 of them, unchallenged, moving between the warehouses and the sharves, where two pirate galleys were moored. Some townfolk at swordpoint, were loading goods onto the galleys. Some of the pirates bore torches."The tribute will be paid by morning," said one of the men near me.

I saw several of the pirates with bottles of paga, swilling from them, as they strutted about, sometimes pausing to cu into a bale of goods or overturn a barrel kicking it open, permitting its contents to run out over the boards.The alarm bar continued to ring futilely. The pirates made no effort to stop the desperate fellow who meaninglessly continued to strike it.

"We outnumber them 50 to 1," I said. "Let me rush upon them. Let us stop them!" They are Masters in Victoria," said a man, "Do nothing rash."

I heard a woman scream and saw her, thrown over the shoulder of a laughing pirate, a brawny fellowk being carried to one of the galleys. "What will be done with her?" whispered a woman, near me, terrified. "If she is beautiful," said a man near us, "perhaps she will be kept to serve in the stronghold of Policrates. If she is not, perhaps her throat will be cut."The woman gasped, her hand at her veil.