Dancer of Gor (72 page)

"In the slave wagon," he said, "on the right, as you enter, there is a water bag, which is full, and a food pan, in which there are two rolls. In the front of the slave wagon, on the left, as you face forward, there is a wastes bucket.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Go," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said. He had put me to all fours. I had not been given permission to rise. It was thus clear to me how I was to enter the slave wagon. When I was inside he shut the door and I heard it secured, with heavy locks. Then the tiny aperture in the upper part of the door, through which I could see one of the moons, was slid shut, and latched. I was then in total darkness. I felt about and discovered that there were some blankets on the iron flooring. I would be warm tonight. I also felt about the wagon and detected that it contained various rings and chains, such that girls within it, if masters wished, could be separately secured. There was also a small water bag, filled with water, and a pan, with two rolls in it. These were where he had said. The wastes bucket, too, was where he had said, at the other end of the wagon, near the front, in the corner opposite the food and water. What luxury, I thought to myself. What more could a slave girl want, other than perhaps the heat of a master's body? I felt about the inside of the slave wagon. The plates were solid. I was well confined within, in the darkness. My escape would be impossible, even if I had dared to think of such a thing. He had seen to that. I wondered if the tharlarion would be hitched up in the morning, and the wagon would move, or, if, for some reason, he preferred to stay here. I spread two blankets in the center of the wagon, and put another, loosely, over my shoulders. I then crawled to the food pan and took one of the rolls. It was stale, but suitable for a slave. I knelt there, the blanket over (pg. 434) my shoulders, and ate it in the darkness. I then took some water. I then returned to the center of the wagon, to the place I had spread the blankets, and knelt there, the blanket clutched about my shoulders. It would be easy for him to keep me indefinitely in such a place, I realized, as there, was a wastes bucket, and food and water could easily be thrust through the narrow, now closed aperture at the bottom of the door. He would not even have to take me out on a leash to relieve myself. Indeed, as he could feed me through the aperture, he did not even have to look at me. I looked about, in the darkness. It was his will which would determine how long I stayed here. It was up to him. He was a master. I was a slave. I supposed, however, that his needs might be upon him sometime and then I might be summoned forth, as the property I was, to serve them. Or perhaps he thought to keep me here, for his amusement, until my own needs began to work on me. Perhaps he wanted to hear me begging and pleading, scratching and whining, sobbing behind the iron door? I resolved I would not give him such satisfaction. But I realized that, as I was a Gorean slave girl, if that was what he wanted, he would probably not have to wait long. I laughed to myself. He must remember me! Or could it be only that he found me of interest, as he might have any woman? That was possible, I supposed. Certainly he had given no signs of knowing me. In any event, he had sent Mina, Cara, and Tela away. It was I who was in the slave wagon! He must remember me! I lay down then on the blankets, wrapped in another blanket. I wondered if he were going to leave with the slave wagon in the morning, and I would be transported helplessly in it, or if he was going to stay here for a time, in the woods, and, if so, for how long? I wondered, too, for how long, whether it left the woods or not, I would be kept in the slave wagon. I must wait to learn the answers to these things. I was a slave girl.

31
   
Placation; In the Slave Wagon

The iron door opened. "Come out," he said.

I think I had been in the slave wagon for two days. It was again evening outside. I hastily adjusted the rolled cloth belt and the slave strip, tucking it in. I touched my hair, worried about it. Then I rose to my feet and hurried to the door. There he took me by the arm and conducted me down the stairs. I was pleased he did this, as I had not walked for a time, and was a little unsteady, and might have stumbled. A campfire was lit and near it were Mirus, and Tupita. She seemed radiant. I was startled to look upon Mirus. He seemed much recovered. When the man, who still wore a mask, removed his hand from my arm, I went timidly to Mirus, and knelt before him. "A slave is pleased," I whispered. "Master looks much stronger." Then I put down my head, frightened. He still looked upon me with severity. It had been only because of the intercession of Tupita, as I recalled, that I had been spared.

"Cook," said the man with the mask.

"Yes, Master," said Tupita, happily. "Come, Tuka, help me!"

"Yes, Mistress!" I said. I called her "Mistress," because I assumed she must be first girl. The men did not correct this impression, so she must be first girl. When not in their presences, whether I called her "Tupita," or whatever her name might now be, would be up to her. I did not doubt, however, but what she would let me use her name to her, whatever it might now be, when we were alone. As she had called me "Tuka," and had not been corrected, I assumed I still was, for the time being at least, or until Masters wished otherwise, "Tuka." Together we prepared a meal, cooked over the campfire. There were supplies and utensils in the wagon box. I think it gave both Tupita and myself much pleasure, preparing a small amount of food for particular masters, and hoping to please them by it, is not one paga slaves, or work slaves, often enjoyed. It is a different (pg. 436) matter altogether to labor in a tavern kitchen, at a narrow task, or to stir the cooking pots in a work camp, which must feed perhaps a thousand slaves. Indeed I had never cooked in the work camp or even in the tavern, though in the latter place I had labored from time to time with Ina, usually naked, on my knees, at the washing tubs. Happily, Tupita did most of the real cooking, while I mostly watched and fetched. I wished I knew more about cooking. I was eager to please masters in this way, too. Too, I thought it was something I should know how to do. What if it were to be required of me? I was afraid then that if I did not do well I might be punished.

While Tupita and I busied ourselves in this fashion the men spoke of politics, of tharlarion, of war, and arms.

When we were ready we put the food on plates and proffered it to the men, kneeling before them, lifting the plates to them. Tupita lifted the plate to Mirus. I lifted the plate to the man who wore the mask. I hoped Tupita had cooked the food well! "Good," said Mirus, congratulating Tupita. "Excellent," said the stranger to Tupita. Tupita knelt back, muchly pleased. I, too, knelt back, pleased, though to be sure little of the credit was due to me. Tupita and I would wait to see if, and when, we would be fed. But after the free persons had taken a few bites, eating first, thus ritualistically in the Gorean fashion expressing the difference between themselves and us, and their precedence. Mirus shoved a bit of food to one side of his plate, from which Tupita happily, helped herself. The stranger then picked up a tiny piece of food from his plate and indicated that I should lean forward. He then put it in my mouth. He did this at various times throughout the meal. I was being fed by hand. Once I tried to catch at, and suck and lick at his fingers, eagerly, surreptitiously, but his eyes warned me to desist. Later he let me finish the food on his plate. I was famished. He had not chosen fatten me in the confinements of the slave wagon. I had had only some more bread, and a raw vegetable. From time to time during the meal Tupita had cast a glance at me, smiling, as though she had some secret. I did not understand what she might have in mind, if anything. Once or twice I glanced at Mirus, but his eyes were severe.

I wiped my hands on my thighs.

Tupita was a good cook, indeed!

Then, while the men continued to talk, we attended to domestic tasks, suitable for us, consequent upon the completion of the meal. I found a kind of fulfillment, and reassurance, and confirmation of what I was, in doing these things. I was particularly (pg. 437) pleased to do them before the stranger. I wanted him to see me performing these tasks. Too, I would have loved to do small tasks for him, even if he did not see me do them, such things as sewing his tunic or, as I had for Aulus, polishing his boots.

We were then finished with the work and came and knelt by the fire, Tupita and I, slaves.

I would soon, I suspected, now that the work was done, be returned to the slave wagon.

I wanted to hurry about the fire, and throw myself on my belly before the stranger, tears in my eyes, covering his feet and ankles with kisses, his helpless slave, begging his touch. Surely he knew me! My belly burned, my thighs flamed. I put down my head. I hoped he could not smell me.

"My friend," said the stranger to Mirus.

Tupita drew back a little. Only in a moment or two did I understand her action.

"Yes," said Mirus.

"She is pretty, isn't she?" asked the stranger.

"She is beautiful," said Mirus, regarding Tupita.

"I mean the other one," said the stranger.

I suddenly knelt very straight, back on my heels. I did not understand what was going on.

"She?" asked Mirus.

"Put you shoulders back, thrust out your breasts, girl," said the stranger.

I obeyed.

"Yes, she," said the stranger.

Mirus regarded me. I felt very much a slave. "She is acceptable," he said. His voice was dry, and cold.

The stranger then took a length of binding fiber from his wallet and walked about the fire. I assumed he was going to bind me for some purpose or other. Perhaps he was not pleased that I had tried to suck and lick at his fingers when he had fed me. Perhaps I was to be put back bound, as a punishment, in the slave wagon. I hoped he did not intend to strangle me, or give the fiber to Mirus, that he might do so. Certainly it had been a small thing, and I could hardly have helped myself, with the feelings I had toward him, and being a slave. I might even have done so if I had been a free woman, in a mute, slave-like plea for attention! Surely a girl would never be punished for such a thing, or with little more than an angry, impatient cuff.

But he went not to me but to Tupita.

"What are you doing?" asked Mirus.

(pg. 438) "Binding a slave," he said.

He, as she knelt, pulled her wrists behind her, crossed them, and bound them together. He then crossed her ankles and, with the same length of fiber, bound them to her wrists. Fulvius had earlier tied me in much the same manner. It is a common slave tie. In it the female is fastened in a position of subservience, cannot rise to her feet, is well displayed, cannot defend herself, and is utterly helpless.

I suddenly feared they wanted to tie Tupita in this way so that she would be unable to interfere in whatever they planned to do to me.

"Why have you bound her?" asked Mirus, puzzled.

His puzzlement reassured me. If this were some plan on the part of the stranger and him presumably he would not have asked this question. Mirus, then, I was relieved to note, seemed to much in the dark on this matter as I.

"Master, may I speak?" I asked the stranger.

"No," he said.

Tupita was smiling.

I them realized that this must be some scheme into which she had entered with the stranger. She and he seemed to understand what was transpiring, even if Mirus and I did not.

"I am well bound, Master," said Tupita to Mirus.

"Obviously," said Mirus. He had watched the stranger place, pull tight, and knot the cords. I, too, had watched. He had worked unhurriedly, even, I suppose, casually, but efficiently. I shuddered. He was clearly no stranger to the binding of women.

The stranger then returned to his place on the other side of the fire, where he sat down cross-legged. He picked up a bota, which I had learned contained paga, took a swig, and passed it to Mirus. Mirus drank, too, and returned the bota to him. The stranger closed it.

Mirus looked at the stranger.

"Perhaps we should be entertained," he said.

"Perhaps," said Mirus, puzzled.

"I can do little, Master," said Tupita. "I am bound."

"Do not underestimate yourself," he said.

"True, Master," she laughed, delightedly. There are many things, of course which a woman, bound, can do for a man, and, indeed, if she is bound she knows, if anything, she must strive even more desperately to be pleasing to him.

"Please him," said the stranger to me, indicating Mirus.

"No," said Mirus, coldly.

The stranger looked at me.

(pg. 439) "Please, Master," I said to him. "I think he would prefer to kill me."

"Please him," urged Tupita.

I looked at her, wildly. Surely she, of all people, would not desire that!

"Must a command be repeated?" inquired the stranger.

"No, Master!" I said. The tone of such a voice is unmistakable to a slave girl. She knows she must obey unquestionly, perfectly, immediately. I hastily crawled to Mirus.

"Do not touch me, slave," he said, with unmistakable menace in his voice.

"Master!" protested Tupita.

I looked back, at the stranger, frightened.

"Very well," said the stranger, to Mirus. I knelt back on my heels.

I realized now what the plan of Tupita and the stranger must have been. in the two days or so since he had been with Mirus and her he had doubtless been informed, or had gathered, what the situation was amongst us. The specific suggestion I suppose had been Tupita's. I looked at Mirus. I did not think, really, now, he still wanted to kill me. I think that had gone from him. On the other hand he was still, obviously, consumed with hatred for me. Too, undoubtedly somehow, on some deep level, perhaps something far beneath the level of discourse, of excuses, of considerations, of reason, he may have felt that he had been denied or thwarted, that he had been deprived of some dur satisfaction. Surely his decision to spare me had not come from deeply within him, spurred by his own misunderstandings, and acceptable to him, but had been the result of yielding to the unwelcome, perhaps resented intercession of Tupita. His hand had been stayed not by the merits of my case, if ti had them, or even by a master's decision to spare a contrite, errant slave, but by his love for a woman, and, indeed, one who was only a slave. In this he may even have felt that he had lost honor. The plan, then, of Tupita and the stranger had been a simple one, involving the utilization of a common biological universal, the placatory, behaviors of the errant female before the dominant male. In this way, it seemed, they hoped that his wrath might be diverted to desire, and that in place of my blood he might be persuaded to accept in substitution something as simple as my beauty, and my total subjugation and conquest. This sort of thing is not unknown. Many times in conquered cities women kneel before invading warriors, baring their breasts and bodies, begging not to be put to the sword but rather to be permitted to please them, and (pg. 440) then to be kept as slaves. It is a well-known fact, too, that it is not easy for a man to remain angry with a beautiful, contrite female who strips herself before him, kneels, kisses his feet, begs his forgiveness, and pleads to be ordered to the furs, that she may there await him in trepidation, and, when he chooses, attempt to assuage the harshness of his wrath with the softness of her beauty and love.