Kajira of Gor (23 page)

almost overpowering feelings of helplessness, vulnerability and femininity.

I did not know what to do. I did not know how to act.

“I am free,” I cried to myself, “I am free! Free!”

But I was half naked and my hands were braceleted behind Each step, too, was

taking me closer to the room!

I wished that I had never seen slaves, and the house of Kuenes. I wished I had

never known how beautiful they _e, and how they were dominated by men, and must

obey!

~ished that I had never felt these powerful emotions, in all

ir irresistibility, profundity and depth! But then I knew

t this was false. It is better to feel than not to feel. I was

overwhelmingly moved by having seen slaves, and thlilled to

re been permitted, even on a license, to see the house of

omenes. Even though I myself was surely not a s~ve my

,I knew, was a thousand times richer for having realized

t such things existed, for having seen such basic, deep, hu-

and real things.

“How do you know that you are not a slave, Tiffany?” I asked myself. “How do you

know that you are different from those other girls? How do you know that you are

not, as Publius suggested, a natural slave? How do you know tile collar would

not be quite appropriate for you? How do you know it does not, in fact,

rightfully belong on you?”

“No,” I said to myself, almost poutingly, “I am free!”

Then something within me, frightening me, seemed to laugh, derisively. “You are

a slave, Tiffany,” it said. “You know you are a slave. You have known it, in one

way or another, in your heart, for years.”

“No!” I said to myself. “No!” “But, yes, Slave,” said the voice within me,

insistently, derisively, mocking me. “No!” I said. “Yes,” it whispered. “Yes,

yes.”

I wondered if I was a slave. The thought thrilled me, and terrified me.

Why had Drusus Rencitis not freed me from the bracelets!

We were not now in the house of Kliomenes!

“I will release you in the room,” he had said.

Why would he not release me now? Why could he not be of help to me? Could he not

see how I was fighting myself!

I wondered if she who was helpless in his bracelets was a slave.

Oddly enough I had felt most a slave, most dominated, ill the house of Kliomenes

when, in the office of Publius, the men had talked, and I had knelt alone and to

one side, my head down, in the light, neglected, braceleted, waiting for the

men, the masters, ‘to finish.

I hurried along in the alley behind Drusus Rencius.

I tried to fight the emotions flsin’g in me, welling up, irresistibly, from my

very depths. I was confused and torn. In me conditioning warred with nature. Men

were the masters. Did they not know that? Why did they not enforce their power’,

their will on us? Could they not see what we wanted, what we needed? Were they

so inattentive and insensitive? Were they so stupid, so blind? Could they not

see that I, in order to attain my perfection, needed the weight of a chain, the

tas~ St of a whip? Could they not see that I could not be perfect until my will

was taken from me, and I must serve will-lesslyl

Could ‘they not see that this was what I wanted? I was not man. I was a woman! I

wanted to surrender to nature, but feared, mightily, to do so. I sensed what a

woman might become if she surrendered to nature. I scarcely dared think i~ an

let alone speak it, How categorical, how fearful, how absolute and such a thing

would be! Yet I longed for it. I wished a man would throw me to my belly and

lock a collar on my throat.

I wished to lie trembling at his feet, in the shadow of his Whip, knowing that

thenceforth, whether I wished it or not, I existed for love, passion and

service.

“Leading position,” said Drusus Rencius. I swiftly put my head down and felt his

fingers lock themselves deeply in my hair. I turned my head and pressed my lips

suddenly, helplessly, to his thigh, kissing him. He twisted my head cruelly to

the side, holding it there, turned, so that my lips could not touch him. My eyes

brimmed with tears, not only from the pain, but more so, from the fact that I

had been rejected.

We had then passed the stranger, approaching, in the alley.

Drusus Rencius released my hair, and I straightened up, continuing to follow

him.

We were almost at tile back entrance of the inn of Lysia

I had been rejected!

How furious I was at the girl who had so helplessly kissed the leg of Drusus

Rencius. How she had humiliated and embarrassed me, the shameless tart! I hated

and despised he~

Where had she come from? Who was she? Surely she could

We were then at the back entrance of the inn of Lysias.

“Kneel here,” said Drusus Rencius, indicating a place near back entrance, near

some garbage cans.

I knelt, immediately, obediently.

He entered the inn. He would see if anyone was about, or we might, unobserved,

make our way up tile back stairs to room.

I moaned softly, with need.

I knelt near tile back entrance of the inn, near the garbage bins. I pulled

weakly against the bracelets.

I looked up, suddenly, startled. A man was standing there, king at me. He had

come, apparently, from down the al-

I put down my head, swiftly, so swiftly that it almost startled me, showing

submission. I had seen his eyes. I was visibly frightened.

Then back door of the inn opened and Drusus, to my relief, emerged.

“She is not out for use?” asked the man.

“No,” said Drusus. “Sorry.” He then snapped his fingers

I leaped up and, at a gesture, preceded him into the inn, up tile rear stairs.

I was trembling. I was sure that in another moment or two I, utterly helpless,

might have been seized and penetrated Mli the alley.

In a moment, then, we were again in the room, and Drusus had locked the door

behind us.

I leaned back against the door, my head back, breathing deeply. “He thought you

had been put out for raping,” said Drusus, chuckling to himself.

I looked at him.

“Did you enjoy the house of Kliomenesr” asked Drusus.

How absurd to me seemed the lightness, the casual cast, of his question. The

experience had been an incredibly meaningful one for me. Scarcely never before,

I think, had I been so in touch with my femaleness. It was hard to conceive of

aow one could be more in touch with one’s femaleness, unless, of course, one

were oneself a slave.

Drusus Rencius looked at me. Then I went to where he stood, and knelt down

before him.

He looked down at me, angrily, startled. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Kneeling down before you,” I said, “helpless, braceleted,’ as a woman before a

man.”

His fists were clenched.

“If you want me,” I said, “have me.”

“Get up!” he cried. Then he seized me by the upper arms and pulled me to my

feet. He held me before him.

“Taste the slave in me,” I begged.

He looked down into my eyes, fiercely. His grip on- my arms, holding me

absolutely helplessly, was like iron.

“Oh, would that you were a slave,” he whispered, intensely.

“Would that you were a slave!”

He then, lifting me from my feet as though I might have been no more than a

doll, suddenly, violently, with a cry of rage, flung me from him, yards from

him, to the surface of the bed. On the bed I scrambled to my knees. The wall was

at my back.

There were sounds from outside the window, cries in the street.

Drusus Rencius went to the window, listening. “Corcyrus,” he said, “has seized

the mines of Argentum. has begun.”

“What has begun?” I asked, frightened.

“War,” said Drusus Rencius.

“I will return you to the palace, immediately,” be said. He

I looked at him, frightened.

indicated that I should lie on my belly on the bed before him. I did so and,

lying on the bed, my head turned to the side, sunk partly in its softness, felt

the bracelets removed from me.

I rose from the bed, pulling down the edges of the brief, one-piece garment I

wore. Drusus Rencius returned the slave bracelets to his pouch. “My garments,

please,” I said. I would have him serve me. He handed me my garments. I retired

behind the screen and, in a few moments, re-emerged.

“Lady Sheila will require a new guard,” he said.

“No,” I said. “I will not.”

He looked at me, surprised.

“You are not relieved of your duties,” I said. “You are still my guard, and will

continue to serve me as such.”

“Lady Sheila well knows how to torture a man,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “I do.”

He regarded me, bitterly.

“Return me now to the palace” I said.

“Yes, Tatrix,” he said.

9
     
I Determine to Take Cognizance in the City

I stood by the barred window in my quarters, looking out. I could see portions

of the courtyard below, sections of the inner walls and the first of the two

gates leading to the outside. I could also see, back from the walls, a portion

of the square outside the gates. Most of the crowd outside the gates I could not

see. I could see some men and women moving across the square, presumably to join

it. It was the second rach crowd in the past week. I saw some men, across the

square, perhaps seeing someone in my window, stop, and shake their fists. I

moved away from the window.

“Mistress!” cried Susan, entering with a tray, stopping suddenly, spilling wine.

She looked at me, with the sudden terror of a slave who had been clumsy.

“Forgive me, Mistressl” she cried. “I will clean it up immediatelyt”

I watched her while she put down the tray, picked up the goblet, and hurried to

fetch cloths and water. In a moment she was on her hands and knees, frightened,

cleaning the floor. I myself, of course, a woman of wealth and position, a

Tatrix even, was above such tasks. They were properly to be performed by lesser

women. Ideally, of course, they fell to those women for whoin they were

perfectly suited, slaves.

“Susan,” I said.

“Yes, Mistress,” she said, looking up from her hands and knees, frightened.

“Why did you spill the wine?” I asked.

“I am sorry, Mistressl” she said.

“Why did you spill it?” I asked. She had seemed surprised.

“I was startled, Mistress,” she said. “I had not expected to find you here. I

had thought that I bad seen you in an anteroom off the great hall, only some Ehn

earlier.”

“You were mistaken,” I said.

“Yes, Mistress,” she said.

“There is another crowd outside the gate this evening,” I said.

“Yes, Mistress,” said the girl.

“It is an angry crowd again, is it not?” I asked.

“I fear so, Mistress,” said the girl.

I went to the barred window, and looked out. I could hear the crowd but, because

of the walls and gates, could see very little of it.

“I think guardsmen will soon issue forth to disperse it” said Susan.

“’Can you make out what they are shouting, what they want?” I asked, lightly.

“No, Mistress,” said Susan, putting down her head.

“I can make it out quite clearly, from the window,” I said irritably.

“Forgive me, Mistress,” said Susan.

“Speak,” I said.

“They call for the blood of the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” she said,

“whom they call tyranness and villainess of Corcyrus.”

“But, why?” I asked. “Why?”

“I do not know, Mistress,” said Susan. “There are scarcities in the city. They

may be angry about the progress of the War!

“But the war goes well,” I said.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Susan, putting her head down.

There was then a heavy knock at the door. “Ligurious, first minister of

Corcyrus,” announced a voice, that of a guard.

“Enter,” I said.

The door opened and Ligurious, with his imposing stature, yet leonine grace,

entered. He bowed to me, and I inclined my bead to him.

At his entrance Susan put the palms of her hands on the floor and lowered her

head to the tiles, assuming a position of slave obeisance common with her in the

presence of her master. I wondered if Ligurious’s slave master required this

position of all of his women. I supposed so.

Ligurious looked down at her, irritably. It was clear what she had been doing.

“Was it she who spilled the wine?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“If you do not wish to exert yourself,” he said, “I can have her whipped for

you.”

“It is all right,” I said. “She is only a stupid, meaningless slave.

“Run along, Susan,” I said. “You can finish later.”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Susan, leaping up, darting away.

“Tonight,” said Ligurious, “I will give her to guardsmen. She will dance the

whip dance, naked.” There are many whip dances on Gor, of various sorts. In a

context of this sort, presumably not in a tavern, and without music, the girl is

expected to move, writhe and twist seductively before strong men. If she does

not do well enough, if she is insufficiently maddeningly sensuous, the whips

fall not about her, but on her. When one of the men can stand it no longer be

orders her to his mat where, of course, she must be fully pleasing. If he is

not, then she is whipped until she is. Then, when one man is satisfied, the

dance begins again, and continues in this fashion until all are satisfied, or