Guardsman of Gor (36 page)

I shrugged. "She is a slave," I said. Free women, incidentally, are seldom permitted to witness dances of the erotic power of the Sa-eela. The major reason for this, interestingly, is not that they might be offended or outraged, but for their own protection. Many times lovely, young free women, sometimes thinking that they have cleverly disguised them. selves, donning male garments, pretending to be boys, thus seeking admission to the dances, find themselves set upon and stripped. Soon, in chains and well ravished, they find themselves as much slaves as the dancer. Perhaps, in their turn, too, they will be taught to dance. On their way to the market they may, if they wish, reflect upon what they, at that time, are likely to regard as their folly. Later, at the feet of a strong man, they may become clearer on the nature of the motivations that took them to such a performance in the first

place. They were courting slavery, begging, in their way, for the steel of the collar, pleading to be subject, if they were not pleasing, to the cut of the whip. They had not truly been free women; they had only been, unbeknownst to themselves, slaves in search of their masters.

"I am hot, Master," said the little slave kneeling beside me.

"A bold admission," I said, "for a former Earth girl."

"And I am frightened," she whispered, suddenly.

"Of course," I said. "You now realize, even more clearly than before, what it might mean to be a slave on Gor."

She then clutched my arm, even more tightly, and then, she kneeling beside me, small and naked, helpless and vulnerable, her throat locked in the steel of my collar, on the tiles, we watched the dance of the female slave.

The music now, pounding and throbbing, mounted headily toward the climax of the Sa-eela.

In these, the final portions of the Sa-eela, the slave, in effect, puts herself at the mercy of the Master. She has already presented before him, almost in a delectable enumeration, many of the more external and rhythmic aspects of her beauty. She has displayed herself hitherto before him rather as an object in which, hopefully, he might take an interest. A woman may do this, of course, from many motives, such as fear or her desire to be purchased by an affluent master, only one of which might be her authentic, poignant desire to be found pleasing by him, for her own sake. In such displays there can be, though there often is not, a subtle psychological distinction, detectable in the behavior, between the merchandise, so to speak, and the girl who is displaying herself as merchandise. In the first case, where no true distinction exists, which is the authentic case, the girl, in effect, says, "I am for sale. Buy me, and love me!"

In the second case, the girl, in effect, says, "Here is a fine slave. Are you not interested in her?" In the second case, of course, the Gorean is interested, though the girl may not understand this clearly, in not only the merchandise but the girl who is displaying the merchandise. She might truly be terrified if she understood that it was she herself he intended to own, and, in fact, was going to own, she the exhibitor of the merchandise as well as she, the merchandise exhibited. Goreans, as I have mentioned, are interested in owning the whole woman, in all her sweetness, depth, complexity and individu

ality. They, and their whips and chains, settle for nothing less. To think of the imbonded woman as a slave object is in one sense quite correct, but, in another sense, it is a perversion of, and a failure to understand, the intimate and beautiful relations which can exist between masters and slaves.

The girl now, in all her helplessness, in all her desperation, in all her sensual splendor, was dancing not aspects or attributes of her beauty before her master, but was dancing her own passions, her own needs and desires, her own piteous, needful, beautiful, intimate and personal self before him. There were no restraints, no reservations, no compromises, no divisions or distinctions. Her needs were as exposed as her

c'Dared body. She danced herself before her master.

6

The music swirled to its climax and Peggy, turning, flung herself to her back on the tiles before Callimachus of Port Cos. As the music struck its last, rousing note, she arched her back, and flexed her legs, and looked back at him, her right arm extended piteously back towards him.

Callimachus, sweating, overcome, trembling, fists clenched, rose to his feet. He looked down at the supine slave, sweating, her breasts heaving, at his feet.

"She is, of course, yours," said Tasdron. "Jason and I thought you might find her of interest."

"Bring me binding fiber!
@
cried Callimachus, throatily, joyfully. "I must tie her!
@

Lola fled from the table to search out binding fiber and, in a moment, returned to the table and knelt before Callimachus, head down, handing him a generous length of soft, silken, scarlet binding fiber. In another moment, Peggy, wincing, had been helplessly trussed, hand and foot, on the tiles.

"Escape!" ordered Callimachus.

"I cannot, Master!
@
cried the girl, struggling futilely. "You have tied me too well. I am helpless!
@

"Escape!" commanded Callimachus.

"I cannot," wept the girl, "nor do I wish to, Master!
@

I turned her over and examined the knots on her wrists and ankles, and then put her again on her back. "The knots are excellent," I said. "She has been securely bound. She is a well-tied slave. She cannot free herself."

Callimachus then cried out with joy and went to Tasdron, whom he embraced. He then came to me and seized my

hand, and then embraced me, too, weeping. "My thanks," said Callimachus. "My thanks to you both!
@

In his joy he had immediately tied the slave. He had waited not a moment longer than necessary to put her in his bonds. The practical and symbolic significance of binding the woman is, I gather, clear to all. It is a joyful, meaningful way of demonstrating power over the slave, and showing that she, in effect, belongs to you. It is a thrilling, exciting act for the master who binds, and for the helpless, dominated slave, who finds herself bound. "He who ties a woman owns her," is a Gorean saying. To be sure, strictly, a woman might find herself tied by a man who does not own her legally, but even in such a case, she will experience herself as being owned in a rather practical and significant sense, that sense, namely, in which she is completely at his mercy and under his control, that sense in which he may do with her as he pleases. Consider then the joy of binding when the master knows that he literally, and legally, owns the woman he binds; and she knows that she is the full and legal property, with no hope of escape or rescue, of the one who binds her.

Callimachus looked down at the bound slave. "From the first instant I saw you," he said, "I wanted you as my slave."

"And from the first instant I saw you, my Master!
@
cried the girl, looking up at him, "I was your slave!"

And then he reached down and seized her and, holding her by the upper arms, before him, she unable to stand, as she was bound, he began to cover her face and mouth, and throat, and breasts, with kisses.

"Oh, Master," begged Florence, "please take me home, and use me! Please, my Master, take me home, and use me!"

"It has been a pleasant evening," grinned Miles of Vonda, rising to his feet.

We all rose.

"I shall call you 'Peggy," said Callimachus to his new slave. "It is a superb name for an Earth-girl slave."

"Yes, Master!" she said. "I am Peggy. I am Peggy!"

Tasdron signaled to the musicians, that they might now leave, and, quietly, not calling attention to themselves, they began to gather together their various instruments and other paraphernalia.

"Come, Slave. Step quickly. Off with the garment," said

Aemilianus to the voluptuous slave, who had been Shirley, whipping out the binding strap I had given him earlier.

Quickly she ran to him, stripped off the yellow gauze she had worn, turned her back to him and crossed her wrists. He then tied her wrists behind her back.

"May you get much service and joy from her," I said.

"I shall," he said, "if she wishes to live."

The girl trembled, and there was much laughter about the table.

"What will you call her?" I asked.

"'Shirley'," said he. "That is an excellent name"

"An Earth-girl name!
@
laughed Glyco, meaningfully.

"You are Shirley," said Aemilianus to the slave.

"Yes, Master," she said. "I am Shirley." She trembled, her

wrists helplessly confined in the loops of the binding strap.

She had been given an Earth girl name. She then realized just

how perfect and complete would be the slavery to which she

would be subjected in the house of Aemilianus. It would be a

slavery at least analogous to that in which an Earth girl is

held in a Gorean house. It was little wonder, then, that, hear

ing her new name, she had trembled in terror.

"Oh!" cried Lola, wincing, standing with her back to Calliodorus. He had tied her wrists behind her back.

He then turned her to face him. "Do you object, Lady Lola, of Port Cos?" he asked.

"I am not the Lady Lola, of Port Cos," she said. "I am only your lowly slave."

"Do not forget it," he said, lifting her head up with his fingers and, bending down, kissing her gently on the lips.

"No, Master," she whispered.

The last of the musicians had now filed from the house. I thought they had been superb. I would later, in a few days, send a tip for them to the tavern of Tasdron.

I glanced at the small, dark-haired slave. I expected that I would be spending the next few days muchly in the house. She, watching Calliodorus and Lola, did not realize that I had glanced upon her. That, I suspected, was just as well. Such heat and desire as might have been revealed in even so casual a glance might have frightened her. She would learn soon enough, lovely little collared beast, what it was, fully, on Gor, to be a master's slave.

I saw that Calliunachus had now removed the binding fiber

from Peggy, with which he had so joyfully asserted his power over her, that he might bind her and make her helpless, and his ownership over her, that she was his to so bind and to so make helpless. She was on her knees before him, kissing at his feet and weeping. "Do you have another binding strap," asked Callimachus, sheepishly, "something to take her home in?"

"By some odd chance, I do," I said, grinning, and threw him such a strap. I had brought three such straps to the table, one for each of the girls who was to be awarded as a gift. In a moment Peggy was on her feet and her head was back. She winced and then laughed with joy. Her wrists had been tightly tied. She knew then that her life with Callimachus would not be easy, nor did she wish it to be. She did not want a weak man; she wanted a man strong enough to elicit, dominate and control the woman in her; Callimachus. a Gorean master, she now realized, would do so; she now realized that he would not compromise with her; she would be kept in total slavery, under the strictest of disciplines, fully owned and uncompromisingly mastered; she would serve him perfectly; she was joyful.

"Please, Master," begged Florence, "bind me in some way."

"Very well," said Miles of Vonda, kindly.

Peggy, her hands tied behind her back, went to kneel before Tasdron. He had given her to Callimachus. She kissed his feet in gratitude. `"Thank you, Master," she wept, "thank yow!
@

"Thank you, Master," breathed Florence to miles of Vonda. He had locked her hands behind her back, in slave bracelets. She, too, now had been bound by her master. His desire for her, and his mastery over her, had now been, to her joy, by the steel of the confining bracelets, attested. She extended her head to him, her lips pursed, her eyes closed, to kiss him, but he seized the sides of the opening of her slave tunic, the left side in his right fist, the right side in his left fist. "Master?" she asked, opening her eyes. The sides of her tunic were held tightly. "Master?" she asked. "Are you not a slave?" asked Miles of Vonda. "Yes, Master," she said. Then, suddenly, laughing, Miles of Vonda jerked open the tunic and tore it down about her lovely, flaring hips. He then thrust it open and back on her hips. Its upper portions hung back, do

pending from the belt, still in place, about her braceleted wrists. "Yes, Master!
@
she said. "March me naked through the streets as your slave. I love you!
@
Miles of Vonda then picked up the lyre, which she had used earlier in entertaining us. With its strap he slung the small, lovely, curved, stringed instrument about her body, the strap over her right shoulder, the instrument behind her left hip. The delicacy of the instrument, with its suggestion of refinement, gentility and civilization, contrasted nicely with the barbarity of her luscious, enslaved nudity, the shreds of her tunic and her helpless, steel-clasped wrists.

"I love you, Master!
@
she cried. She pressed her body to him and he, clasping her to him, with force and possessiveness, kissed her as his desired and owned slave. I had little doubt that when he arrived home he would play well upon her body, making it the instrument of his attentions. He would draw forth from her by his skills rhapsodies of movements, cries, moans, utterances and admissions, a music to the ears of both the conquering master and the delicious, yielding slave, she who finds, and can find, her most glorious victory only in her most complete and devastating defeat. "I love you, Master!
@
she was weeping. "I love you!
@

Tasdron, with a snapping of his fingers calling Peggy to her feet, removed his collar from about her neck, and she ran to stand, head down, deferential and bound, near Callimachus. I threw Aemilianus the key to the collar of Shirley, and he removed it from her. I myself took the steel of my collar from Lola's throat.

"Thank you for giving me to Calliodorus," she said.

"Serve him well," I said.

"I shall. I shall!
@
she said.

Slave girls, of course, may speak the name of their masters to others, for example, as in locutions such as, "I am the girl of Calliodorus of Port Cos," or "I come from the house of Calliodorus." It is only that they are seldom, in addressing the master himself, permitted to use his name. He is usually addressed simply as "Master," or as "my Master."

"I have an announcement to make," said Tasdron, "for which I have waited until now." We regarded him. The slaves knelt. A free man was speaking. "The forces of the Vosk League are soon to be organized," said Tasdron. "It is my honor and pleasure to inform you that one among us has

agreed to act as the commander of these forces. He is, of course, Callimachus, of Port Cos!
@

"Congratulations!" I cried to Callimachus, shaking his hand. There was Gorean applause.

"The appointment was made earlier this afternoon, in a secret session of the High Council of the Vosk League," said Tasdron, "that body sovereign in the league, composed of representatives drawn from all the member towns." Tasdron smiled at me. "This time and place," he said, "seemed appropriate for making the first public announcement of the appointment."

"Thank you, Tasdron," I said. He had honored my house. Peggy was looking up at Callimachus, from her knees, her hands bound behind her back. Her eyes were shining. How proud she was of her master.

"But what of Port Cost" asked Calliodorus. "Are you not to return to Port Cos, to replace Callisthenes, to become High Captain?"

"That post is yours, my friend, Calliodorus," said Glyco.

"My thanks!" said Calliodorus.

We applauded him, congratulating him and expressing our approval of the wisdom of the appointment. On her knees beside him, her hands tightly bound behind her back in the black binding strap, Lola pressed her lips fervently against his leg, and looked up at him. Her eyes shone, too. How proud, too, she was of her master!"

Tasdron reached into his pouch. "I am sure that you recognize this," he said. He held, in his hands, two pieces of rock.

"The topaz!
@
said Aemilianus.

"The topaz!
@
said Calliodorus.

"What you do not know," said Tasdron, "is that long ago, over a century ago, this stone, unbroken, was the Home Stone of Victoria."

We were startled. There was silence in the room.