Dancer of Gor (49 page)

"Not here," he whispered, suddenly, hoarsely. "Back. Further back."

I backed down the alleyway, before him, watching him. He was now excited.

Then my back was at the end of the alleyway, a closed alleyway, a cul-de-sac, against a building.

"No," he said, suddenly. "I must not take advantage of you."

"Let it be the tiniest of kisses then," I said, softly, "once only, and only the merest touch, my lips and yours, that, so little, or all of me, and as you want me, whatever you wish."

He placed his hands, the palms of them, fiercely on the wall, one on each side of me, at my shoulders. He put down his head for a moment, fighting with himself. He then lifted his head, and looked into my eyes.

I was small before him, and weak, and female.

I felt him loosen my belt, and then it, with the attached purse, fell to the stones of the alleyway.

He reached then to the opened collar of my robing.

Of the usual garments of the free female I wore only the outer robe, the street robe. That had been decided by my master. If I were inclined to attempt an escape, even clad merely in such a way, I presumably would not get far. I would not even have been able to disrobe, among free women, to an underrobe, or sliplike robe. Beneath the street robe there would have been only a female, and a brand.

The man's eyes blazed with the wanting of me.

To be sure, my master, even so, had taken an additional precaution with me.

Suddenly, driven in his need, impassioned, he tore open my robe.

"You wear the belly chain of a slave!" he cried.

Almost at the same time he was struck heavily from behind by my master's men. He was terribly strong. They had to strike him five times before he went down.

I stood back against the wall, frightened.

(pg. 296) One of my master's men, from a skin, poured paga on the fallen figure. He would be transported from the alley, his arms over their shoulders. Few in the streets, given his apparent condition, and his smell, the paga souses on his garment, would think much of this. He would be taken to the back entrance of the tavern.

"Get the robe off," said the other of my master's men.

He had already picked up the belt and purse, and thrust it in a sack. I removed the robe and he thrust if, too, with its hood, and veil, into the sack.

I was then naked, except for the belly chain. Its links were heavy. Whereas it is sometimes possible for a male to slip such a chain, because of his straight hips, they stay well on females. About our waists, between the flaring of our hips and the swelling of our bosoms, they find a natural, lovely and secure mounting. This chain was locked on me with a heavy padlock, from the back. in the front, linked to the chain, and dangling down from it, over my lower belly, was a heavy, medallionlike metal disk. On this disk, so that it could be read from the front, was a large, cursive "Kef," for "Kajira," a larger version of the same letter adorning my thigh.

The fellow with the sack put it down and took the disk in his hand. He jerked on it, so that I felt the pull on the chain, and then let it drop back on my belly. He laughed.

"All fours," he said.

I went to all fours in the alley. The metal disk hung down now, swinging, below my belly.

My master's collar, taken from the sack, was put on my neck. The belly chain was then removed from me and placed in the sack. The fellow, too, held a tunic to my mouth, and I took it in my teeth. When I left the alley there would be little that would be unusual about me. I would be just another girl, well exposed in her skimpy tunic, snugly locked in her collar, nothing unusual.

20
   
The Key in the Belt

"Please, Master," I said, swiftly kneeling near the entrance to the alleyway, "my master is much occupied with his business, and neglects me."

The tall, strong fellow stopped to regard me. I was the sort of woman apparently not without interest to Gorean males.

"Kind Master," I begged, "have pity on a female slave, desperate in her need."

"You are naked," he observed.

"My master punishes me," I said, "for he grew weary of my bellyings and my importunings for love."

"I do not think I would send a slave like you into the streets naked," he said.

"Master?" I asked.

"She might be molested," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He laughed.

I looked down, as though confused, and embarrassed.

"How long has it been since you have been touched?" he asked.

"Two weeks," I said.

"Incredible," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I whispered.

"Doubtless he has many women," the fellow speculated.

"No," I said, "only me."

"Then," said he, "it is indeed incredible."

"Thank you, Master," I said, shyly.

"To afford a slave such as you," he said, "he must be well off."

"He is rich," I said.

"So why would he not have many women?" asked the fellow.

"He cares more for his business than for women," I said.

"You are quite beautiful," he said, admiring me with the openness and candor of a Gorean master.

(pg. 298) "Thank you, Master," I said, even as a slave reddening under that gaze.

"Are you truly in desperate need?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said. That was true. My master kept me starved for sex. It seemed to be his belief that my needs, if painful, would improve me in this sort of performance. Perhaps he was right. Surely if a Gorean master were skillful in reading a woman's body, as many are, there would be little there, now, at least in this one respect, to suggest deception. I squirmed naked before him, on my knees.

"I am sorry," he said.

I put down my head. I wished he was not truly concerned with me. Gorean masters, incidentally, almost never deprive a girl of sex, though it can, of course, be done with an end in view, for such purposes as punishment, increasing her need for a later time, or bringing her to a good, hot ready point for, say, her sale from a slave block. The deliberate starving of a woman of sex is almost unheard of on Gor. that sort of thing is, I think, more likely to be done on Earth, than Gor, and, on Earth, it seems to be practiced more frequently, interestingly enough, not on slaves, but free women. Indeed, one of the major differences between the slave and her free sister. This is not to say that a slave may not occasionally be made to beg for sex, or that she may not, upon occasion, have to beg for it. These things help her to understand that she has sexual needs, and that whether or not these needs are to be satisfied, is at the option of the master. A formula sometimes used is: "I acknowledge unequivocally and without reservation that I have sexual needs. Similarly I inform you that I want them satisfied. I beg you, Master, to satisfy them." It might be noted in this, of course, that a slave may beg for sexual satisfaction. She is free to do so, and it is quite acceptable for her to do so. Such a liberty, of course, would be unthinkable in the case of a free woman. Needless to say, the master commonly accedes to the pleas of the slave. When he himself desires sex, of course, he simply takes it, or imposes it on the slave. Her will is nothing. And she must strive to be fully pleasing. He is master; she is slave.

"I am lonely, I am neglected, I am in need," I said. "My master cares more for his business than for his slave."

"I am sorry," he said.

"You are strong, and a male," I said, looking up, "and I am small, and weak, and a female, and am in need."

He said nothing.

(pg. 299) "I would tie the bondage knot in my hair for you," I said.

"Are you soliciting the touch of a man who is not your master?" he asked.

"Oh, no Master!" I said, quickly.

He smiled.

"Do you scorn me for my helplessness?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"You are kind to a slave," I whispered.

"In any event," he said, "you wear the iron belt."

"Master," I said, quickly, quietly. "It is for such a reason that I have knelt before you. My master, in his anger, and in his preoccupation with his business, when he put the belt on me, neglected to remove the key for the lock. It is still there. I have felt it from behind my back."

"Oh?" he said, interested.

"Yes!" I whispered.

"He must, indeed, have been preoccupied," he said.

"He was angry, too," I said. "He stripped me, put the belt on me and sent me on an errand, from the house. I do not think he was much paying attention to what he was doing." This seemed to me the weakest part of the story, that a Gorean master might neglect to remove a key from a lock. Such things are commonly done by habit, if nothing else. I did have an errand capsule, a capped, narrow leather cylinder, such as may be used for carrying notes, messages, and such, on a string about my neck, the string over my collar.

"The belt then could be easily removed from you," said the fellow, "and later replaced."

"Yes," I said.

I could see that he was interested in me. I had been found desirable, apparently extremely so. To be sure, a key could be left in a lock. Such things could happen. Should a fellow question such luck?

" I do not own you," he said.

"Do so," I said, "for an Ahn."

"There is no place," he said.

"Take me into the alleyway," I said. "Spill garbage, or refuse, upon the stones, for I am a slave and am worth less than even it, and have no value lest it be to serve a master, and put me upon it. Make that my bed."

"My cloak, doubled, will do," he smiled.

"Enfold me then within it," I said, "as though within your arms, that I may then within its enclosing warmth, as though (pg. 300) within the confines of a cell, tender my woman's submission to your maleness."

I then, slowly, gracefully, kneeling before him, looking up at him, tied the bondage know in my hair, it then hanging beside my right cheek.

"Precede me into the alley," he said, kindly.

I rose, gracefully, and did so. I would rather he had not been so concerned for me. I remembered he knife of my master's man, the point entered ever so slightly into my belly, the edge of the knife turned in such a way that I knew it could open me like a larma.

He spread the cloak, doubled, on the stones of the alleyway. I knelt upon it, and put my hands, clasped, behind the back of my head. I hoped that my master's men had gone elsewhere. He reached about me, as I pressed myself against him, troubled, and I felt him turn the key in the lock. In a moment, the belt was laid aside.

"You are open," he announced."Yes, Master," I said.

"You are very beautiful," he said.

Thank you, Master," I said.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said.

"Do we have much time?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"How long is your errand?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"What is its nature?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"It is doubtless written on a paper, inside the errand capsule," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"To whom were you to report, for the conduct of the errand?" he asked. "Who was to read the message?"

"He who was designated by my master's men," I said.

"Do you know his name?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"But you do know to whom you were supposed to deliver it?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"When do you expect to deliver it?" he asked.

"I have already done so," I said.

"You are returning from your errand?" he said.

"I am in the midst of it, Maser," I said.

(pg. 301) "I do not understand," he said.

"The message is for you," I said.

He looked at me, puzzled. He then uncapped the errand capsule, and took out the bit of rolled paper. He unrolled it, and read it. He leaped to his feet, turning, but already they were upon him. They pummeled him savagely. Then he lay crumpled at their feet.

"Forgive me, Master," I said.

"Get the belt back on," said one of my master's men.

"Yes, Master," I said. The key was again left in the lock. The paper which had been extracted from the errand capsule was then rerolled, and thrust in the capsule, and the capsule again capped. The message read, I have been told, "You have been captured."

"Another for the black chain of Ionicus," said one of my master's men,. Ionicus was a master of work chains. He ahd several, the "red chain," the "green china," "the yellow chain," and so on, each of which boasted several hundred men. Supposedly these were free work chains, "free" in the sense of not utilizing slaves. Goreans generally do not employ slaves for such labors as road construction, siege works, raising walls, and so on. Similarly they generally would not use them for the construction of temples and public buildings. Most such work is generally done by the free labor of a given community, though this "free labor" may, upon occasion, particularly in emergencies, be "levied," the laborers then contributing their labor as a form of special tax, or, if you like, "conscripted" or "drafted," rather as if for military service. Usually, of course, the free labor is paid, and with more than provisions and shelter, either from public or private funds. Any city in which free laborers tended to be systematically robbed of their employments in virtue of imbonded competition would doubtless be inviting discontent, and perhaps, eventually, revolution. Besides, the free laborers share a Home Stone with the aristocracies of these cities, the upper castes, the higher families, the richer families, and so on. Accordingly, because of this commonality of the Home Stone, love of their city, the sharing of citizenship, and such, there is generally a harmonious set of economic compromises obtaining the labor force, in general. Happily, most of these compromises are unquestioned matters of cultural tradition. They are taken for granted, usually, by all the citizens, and their remote origins, sometimes doubtless the outcome of internecine strife, of class war, of street fighting and riots, of bloody, house-to-house (pg. 302) determinations in the past, and such, are seldom investigated, save perhaps by historians, scribes of the past, some seeking, it seems, to know the truth, for its own sake, others seemingly seeking lessons in the rich labyrinths of history, in previous human experience, what is to be emulated, and what is to be avoided. Some think that out of such crises came the invention of the Home Stone. There are, of course, several mythical accounts of the origin of the Home Stone. One popular account has it that an ancient hero, Hesius, once performed great labors for Priest-Kings, and was promised a reward greater than gold and silver. He was given, however, only a flat piece of rock with a single character inscribed on it, the first letter in the name of his native village. He reproached the Priest-Kings with their niggardliness, and what he regarded as their breach of faith. He was told, however, that what they gave him was indeed worth far more than gold and silver, that it was a "Home Stone." He returned to his native village, which was torn with war and strife. He told the story there, and put the stone in the market place. "Of the Priest-Kings say this is worth more than gold and silver," said a wise man, "it must be true." "Yes," said the people. "Ours," responded Hesius. Weapons were then laid aside, and peace pledged. The name of the village was "Ar." It is generally accepted in Gorean tradition that the Home Stone of Ar is the oldest Home Stone on Gor.