Dancer of Gor (15 page)

I lay down again on the metal flooring.

I thought again of the woman who had beaten on the side of the wagon. How afraid she had made me! How different she seemed from us, from the ten of us, chained in this cage. She was, I was sure, free. She must have been free, to have been permitted to scream like that, and carry on like that. There seemed to be no other possible explanation. The thought made me shudder. She was then, even if stupid and ugly, worlds above and beyond us. She would be priceless. Our value, even if we (pg. 92) were desirable and beautiful, on the other hand, would be finite, a function quite simply of fluctuations in the market, and what men were willing to pay for us. We were properties. She, I supposed, was not. That would seem to be the major difference between us. We could be bought and sold. She, I supposed, could not, unless, of course, men saw fit to reduce her, too, to bondage, and then, of course, she would be no different from us, and our competitions would be reduced to the same common denominator, that of mere females. I lay there, hooded, a new slave, trying to understand, down in my belly, what is was, truly, to be a property. I could thus come into the ownership of anyone who had the wherewithal to buy me, male or female. Too, I had little doubt that not all the men on this world could be of the nature of Teibars and Ulricks, and the guards in the house where I had been trained. Doubtless there were men here, too, if not as on Earth, men who might be fretful, petty and weak, men the very sight and smell of which I might find offensive, men whose appearance and least touch I might find literally sickening, men I might find inutterably disgusting, men who were unclean, who were cruel, and loathsome and gross, who might be hideous and frightful, men I might find myself shrinking from, almost vomiting in disgust and terror, but they would own me, as much as any other, and I would be obliged, as a slave, to bring myself warmly and unquestionably into their arms, and bring my lips obediently and hotly to theirs, to submit wholly to them, to give myself wholly to them, to surrender wholly to them, holding back nothing, to please them, fully, and intimately. These things were simple attachments to my condition, consequences of what I was. I could not change them. They were simply part of what it meant to be what I was, a slave. We do not choose our masters not is it up to us, whether or not we will please them, or to what degree. We must strive to be perfection all ways, for anyone. That is part of what is to be a slave. In reconciling myself to bondage I had, also, to reconcile myself to this condition. It is a part of bondage. It is something which the slave must accept. Without it there can be no true slavery. I had accepted this condition, at least theoretically, verbally, acknowledging its incumbency on me, in my training. Somehow, interestingly, this acceptance, too, seemed liberating to me. It made my bondage much more real to me. Too, interestingly, in its way, it also made it seem much more precious to me.

Still, I supposed one could not truly understand what being a property was until one had been sold, and had come into the keeping of masters. Doubtless Teibar's "modern woman," his (pg. 93) arrogant, pretentious Earth female, as he had thought, his despised catch, would come to understand what that was. How amused he would be from time to time, I supposed, thinking of what he had done to me, the fate into which he had brought me. I tried to hate him, but could not. I wanted rather to kiss his feet. But then perhaps he did not even remember me. Perhaps he had forgotten me! Perhaps I was now alone, totally alone, on this world, having been brought here for a price, and then, having earned my coins for others, discarded, cast into the markets, set adrift uncertain weathers, on trackless seas, to vanish from sight, to disappear tracelessly, with no one noticing or caring, at the mercy of whatever course winds and currents, and fortune, and the will and interests of men, might take me. But I would never forget Teibar. I would remember him, always, even as I moaned in my dreams.

I jerked suddenly, frightened, in the manacles. I could belong to anyone, to anyone who could pay for me! Surely that was wrong for a woman of Earth! How could it have come about that I was now only a lowly slave? I had been a woman of Earth! How could it have come about then that I was now, on this world, only a collared animal, stripped and chained, at the mercy of masters? Could it truly be I here, in this cage, in chains? Had I gone mad? Could I be dreaming? But I pushed up with my tongue, straining my tongue, against the bottom of the leather ball in my mouth, fixed there so mercilessly, so effectively. I moved my lips and teeth about it. I could feel its shape and size. But I could not dislodge it. I shook my head a little, moving the chain on my neck. It was on me. I hurt my wrists, pulling against the manacles that confined them. But I could not relieve their stern clasp in the least, nor extend by an iota the tiny span their links allotted me. I moved my shoulder and thigh on the metal flooring. My shoulder was sore, and my thigh was sensitive, and perhaps red. The flooring gave us a very obdurate surface. It was very solid. It was plated, and heavy. I supposed it might be of iron. The plates, I conjectured, judging from the apparent weight and solidity of them, must be an inch thick, at least. No, I was not dreaming. It was I, here, truly, in this place, now a slave. Then again I was content. How had Teibar, and others, I wondered, have known that I was a slave? It had not been hard to tell, I had gathered. I was frightened, but, too, I knew I was where I belonged, in bondage.

We waited.

No more concern was being taken for us, it seemed, than for crates, bales or boxes.

(pg. 94) I heard Gloria, next to me, moan. She, too, doubtless, was feeling the hardness of the flooring. I felt the chain on my neck move, as she changed her position. On the other side of her was Clarissa, who was from Wilmington, Delaware. She had even received, more than once, a candy from a guard. No longer was she refractory. She, too, had learned herself slave. The first seven girls on the chain were Gorean girls. Clarissa had not been a virgin, or at least for long, in the house. I had seen two of the Gorean girls, and Clarissa, rather regularly put to the uses of the guards. I had noted, with interest, that although they were from different worlds, they, in the throes of their instimate employments, at first submitting to and enduring, then accepting, then reveling in, and, at last, kneeling and licking, mutely begging and pleading for their ravishments, in their whimpers and moans, and clutchings, denied speech, obedient under "gag law," had sounded the same. I supposed under certain conditions we all sounded the same. We were all women. That was what was important. I do not think, really, even from the point of view of men, that there is anything to choose from, between a Gorean girl and an Earth girl, assuming both have well learned their collars. It is doubtless, really, all a matter of the individual woman. What we all have in common, of course, is that we are all females.

We might have been animals kept waiting, horses, or pigs or dogs! Then I recollected that that was what we were, animals, slaves.

We waited.

We were chained.

There was little danger, I thought, that we would escape. Too, on such a world, where would one run? And even if one could get one's collar off, one was branded, marked. I was not interested in running away. I had learned the penalties for such things. I did not wish to be whipped, or hamstrung, or have my feet cut off, or be fed to sleen. Here men were not tolerant of attempted escapes. They did not have the patience for them. Here, for women such as I, escape was not an option; here, for all practical purposes, it was simply impossible. At best, we might hope, against all hopes, at great personal risk, even mortal risk, it seemed, to escape from the chains of one master into those of another, in which case, of course, we would be a "caught slave," a modality that would be almost certain to assure us of the cruelest of treatments and the harshest of confinements, followed, perhaps, if our captor pleased, by a return to our original master.

(pg. 95) I suddenly sat, half up, on the metal floor. Then I lay on it, on my back, shuddering, pulling my wrists up, behind the small of my back. I raised my knees.

As properties we had value, like other properties! Suddenly I realized, this thought frightening me, as I contemplated myself the object of such considerations, there might be a further point in chaining and confining us. It need not be simply construed in terms of such things as keeping us in a given space, or together, say, for purposes of custodial neatness, or rendering escape impossible, or discouraging thoughts of it, as if such thoughts needed discouraging, or reminding us that we were slaves, or disciplining or punishing us, or pleasing men, who delighted to see us so helplessly their captives, but for another reason, too, obvious now that I thought about it. We were properties! We were valuables, like money, or dogs or horses. Indeed, by some men, we might even be regarded as treasures. We might then, like other animals or goods, be subject to theft! We might be stolen! Thus it made sense that, if for no other reason, we might occasionally find ourselves kept, in effect, under lock and key. I did know that it was not unusual for slaves to be confined at night. In the house we had been locked in our kennels. Too, I had heard that at night it was not unusual for beautiful female slaves to be chained at the foot of their master's couch, fastened there to a slave ring, the chain usually running to a manacle on their left ankle or a collar on their neck.

The fact that I now realized I was subject to theft frightened me, but it, too, like many other things, seemed an attachment of my condition, a simple consequence of what I was. I recalled hearing now, in the house, of "capture rights," respected in law. I had originally thought these rights referred to the acquisition of free women but I had later realized they must pertain, more generally, to the acquisition of properties in general, including slaves. I had not thought much about such things, in a real, or practical sense, until now, now that I was outside of the house. I tried to recall my lessons. Theft, or capture, if you prefer, conferred rights over me. I would belong to, and must fully serve, anyone into whose effective possession I came, even if it had been by theft. The original master, of course, has the right to try to recover his property, which remains technically his for a period of one week. If I were to flee the thief, however, after he has consolidated his hold on me, for example, kept me for even a night, I could, actually in Gorean law, be counted as a runaway slave, from him, even though he did not technically own me yet, and punished accordingly. Analogies are (pg. 96) that is not permitted to animals to challenge the tethers on their necks, or flee the posts within which they find themselves penned, that money must retain its value, and buying power, regardless of who has it in hand, and so on. Strictures of this sort, of course, do not apply to free persons, such as free women. A free woman is entitled to try to escape a captor as best she can, and without penalty, even after her first night in his bonds, if she still chooses to do so. If she is enslaved, of course, then she is subject to, and covered by, the same customs, practices and laws as any other slave. The point of these statutes, it seems, it to keep the slave in perfect custody, at all times, and to encourage boldness on the part of males. After the slave had been in the possession of the their, or captor, for one week she counts as being legally his. To be sure, the original maser may attempt to steal her back. A popular sport with young men is trying "chain luck." This refers to the capture of women, either free or bond, viewed as a sport. In war, of course, women of this world, slave and free, like silver and gold, rank high as booty.

Then, suddenly, startling me, I heard canvas being unbuckled and pulled away. My body suddenly felt hot sunlight fall upon it. It was warmer in the hood. I was afraid, in the hood. I struggled to my knees. I heard, too, the movements of chain, from our necks, and the small sounds of the chains linking manacles, and the stirring, and scrambling, the movement of naked bodies on the iron flooring, of the other girls. I heard a key being thrust in a heavy lock, and the lock being opened, it seemed loudly, abruptly. I heard the rustle of chain at the gate, and the opening of the heavy gate. I assumed the standard open-kneed position, back straight, stomach in, shoulders back, head up, immediately. I assume the other girls did, too. We did not even hear a man snap, "Position." It had not been necessary. We were, to some extent, at least, trained girls.

I heard a body ascend to our level. I felt strong rough hands on me. "This way," said a man's voice. "Move this way." But he was talking, it seemed, to the other girls, for I felt myself literally lifted up and lifted back toward the gate, the chain pulling against the left side of my neck as it was pulled away from the right side, dragging Gloria, doubtless to her knees, or half crouching, after me. I was handed down to the level. My feet were on warm boards. Gloria was then handed down, after me, and then the others. I heard the hootings, whistles, sucking and clicking noises, and sex calls of men, gathered about. It seemed there must be a great many of them, a small crowd, even. They had probably wandered over here, as we were being disembarked (pg. 97) from the wagon. I felt a man's hand in the chain on my neck and he pulled me stumbling where he wanted me. For a moment it seemed I was the head of the coffle. Then I was turned about, and was standing alone, confused. I did not know where I was, or even in what direction I faced. I thin, then, the lead girl was drawn around, and forward, properly orienting the coffle, and that I, though I was not sure of it, was again at its end. Gloria, judging from the chain, was somewhere to my right. She should been, though, either in front of me, or behind me. I did not know where I was, even with respect to the coffle. I heard more of the hootings and noises, the sex calls, closer now. I began to tremble. I then jerked and almost fell. The snap had been so loud, so frightening, and the leather burned me so terribly! I had thrown my head back, gasping, sobbing out, wildly, fighting the ball in my mouth, in the hood. Then I uttered a tiny, frightened, anguished, protesting, stifled sound. "Stand straight, sluts!" we heard. "You are in the presence of men!" I then, jerking, in fear, reacting, but the lash was not on me, heard it strike twice more amongst us. This time the lash had been not on my calves, but fully on my back. I stood as straight, and beautifully, as I could. My back stung. It was as though a narrow path had been cut into it, and left raw, and burning, on it. I heard an increase in the hootings, the noises, and sex calls. Some of the men were now, apparently, crowded closely about. I had difficulty holding my position. I felt a man's hand on my left breast. I felt a man's hand squeezing my right thigh. "Do not touch the merchandise," laughed a guard. It was a voice I knew from the house. It may have been the fellow who had struck me, and the others. "Unless you want to buy," he added, chuckling. "Does she have a face to match this luscious form?" asked a man. "Yes," said the guard. "She is marvelously beautiful." I was grateful to him. I wondered if it could be true, that I might count as being marvelously beautiful, to men such as these. And if so, what might that mean? Did it suggest, I wondered, that I in my helplessness might then expect to be the object of persistent and unusual predations? "They are all superb slave meat," said the guard. "From what house do they come?" asked the man. But the guard did not respond to him.