Kur of Gor (46 page)

"Yes, Master."

"The phenomenon is so widely spread, if not absolutely universal, that there must be genetic predispositions involved."

"Yes, Master,” she said.

"Were you satisfied with the men of Earth?” he asked.

"No,” she said. “I despised them. I would not let them near me!"

"And here?” he asked.

"Here,” she said, “I have met men before whom I can be only a slave."

"They know well how to handle women like you,” he said.

"Certainly,” she said. “They collar and master us."

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"And they move me, and thrill me,” she said.

"You look well in your tunic,” he said.

"A slave tunic."

"Certainly."

"Does master wish me to remove it?"

"Not now."

"It may be easily torn from me,” she said.

"Perhaps, later,” he said.

Cabot returned to inspecting what meager supplies remained in the pouch and bundle.

"Is there a whip amongst your things?” she asked.

"Certainly,” said Cabot, “it was supplied by Peisistratus."

"Will you whip me?"

"If you are not pleasing,” he said.

"Truly?"

"Certainly."

"I will strive to be pleasing."

"Excellent."

"But perhaps sometime you may whip me,” she said.

"Why?” he asked.

"—That I may better know myself a slave,” she whispered.

"We shall see,” he said.

"Lady Bina has a name,” she said.

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"At least she is clothed in the beauty of a name,” she said.

"Yes,” said Cabot, absently.

"Will you not name me sometime?” she asked.

"Probably,” said Cabot.

"I would like a name,” she said.

"What you would like, or would not like, is of no interest,” said Cabot. “Too, you must understand that any name put on you is like the brand or collar. It is a slave name, only that."

"Of course,” she said, “for I am a slave. But, Master, would it not be better if I were named? Would it not be easier then to refer to me, to order me about, to summon me to your side, and such?"

"This matters to you, does it not?” he asked.

"Lady Bina has a name,” she said.

"She is free,” said Cabot.

The slave put down her head.

"Do not compare yourself with her,” he said.

"No, Master."

"'Lita',” said he, “is a pretty name."

"Yes, Master!” she said.

"It is a common slave name,” he said.

"Because it is such a lovely name for a slave!"

"Thousands of slaves are given the simple name, ‘Lita',” he said, “as they are such names as ‘Lana', ‘Mira', ‘Tuka', and such."

"Yes, Master!"

"I will call you ‘Lita',” he said. “You are Lita. Who are you?"

"I am Lita!” she said, delighted. “Does it have a meaning?"

"No,” said Cabot. “It is simply a lovely, meaningless sound, for a lovely, meaningless sort of animal, a female slave."

"Then it has that meaning, at least, in a way,” she said.

"I suppose so,” said Cabot.

"It is understood as a slave name, as only the name of a slave?"

"Yes,” said Cabot. “Universally."

"Good!” she said.

"Certainly no free woman would have such a name,” he said.

"So much the worse for them,” she said.

"It would demean them, terribly."

"Perhaps not,” she said.

Then she found herself, to her apprehension, under the gaze of her master. She straightened her body.

"Master regards me strangely,” she said. “Am I not kneeling properly?"

"Lita!” he said, sharply.

"Master?” she said, startled.

"Your tunic,” he said.

"Master?” she asked, uncertainly.

"Remove it,” he said.

Swiftly, kneeling in the sand, she drew the tunic off, over her head, and put it beside her. Such garments have no nether closure, that the slave may well know herself slave.

"The first command I have been given as Lita,” she said, “is to bare myself before Master."

"Yes,” he said.

"And thus,” she said, “the better I understand my name, that it is the name of a slave."

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"I am bared before my Master,” she said.

Cabot waited for a time, scrutinizing her lineaments. Gorean masters savor such pleasures.

"Master?” she said, at last.

"Perhaps you can anticipate the second command that will be given to Lita,” said Cabot.

"I think so, Master,” she whispered.

"Lita,” said he.

"Yes, Master!” she said.

"Please me,” he said.

"Yes, Master!” she said, and crawled to him.

* * * *

Later the cylinder lights were lowered, to simulate dusk.

The slave returned to the place on the beach, with berries gathered in the woods adjacent to the slopes, those which led down to the beach.

There was no simulation of moonlight in the cylinder that night.

On Gor, given the three moons, and the differences in their phases, moonlight was frequent.

Cabot was standing on the shore, looking out over the waters of the lake. It seemed placid. He looked up, but could not see the overhead forests for the dimness of the light. Some days earlier they had been in that area, now above them, the more populated area of the cylinder, where were found many of the domiciles of Kurii, the arena, the palace, and such.

He heard the girl behind him.

He turned to see the slave.

Three times in the afternoon he had put her to slave use.

She smiled in the dusk, and lifted two handfuls of berries, her gleanings in the forest.

Cabot was pleased with the slave.

Each time her heat had increased.

But that is not unusual with slaves.

She put the berries down, on a flat rock.

Cabot looked to the side. There was a pile of dry wood there, chips, branches, and bark. This trove of combustibles had been fetched earlier by the slave, while Cabot had investigated the beach, and prowled within the forest, discovering however no sign of Lord Grendel or the Lady Bina.

Perhaps Grendel had not come to this place. Perhaps he had been already taken and was already slain, or incarcerated, heavily chained, in some foul pit or tiny cell.

While in the forest Cabot had procured a long, sharpened stick. It would serve as a weapon.

As yet, Cabot had kindled no fire, but expected to do so later, perhaps the next evening, and then withdraw from it, to the forest, to see who might come, if any, to inquire.

Cabot wondered if, overhead, the revolution had begun. Surely the men of Peisistratus had been about their errands.

Had Lord Arcesilaus been warned?

Presumably so, unless the messenger had been anticipated, or intercepted.

Eventually the stick's point might be hardened in the fire.

This place is muchly uninhabited, he thought.

He then approached Lita, who, seeing him approaching, knelt.

He opened his right hand, palm upward, and lifted it, slightly, and the slave stood.

He saw the glint of the collar on her neck.

"Lift your tunic,” he said, “over your breasts, and hold it there."

"You stand well,” he said.

"Master is close to his slave,” she said.

Cabot was silent.

They were but inches from one another. He put down his head, and she felt his breath on her body.

"It is my hope to be pleasing,” she said.

He put his hands on the sides of her waist.

"Oh, yes!” she said, softly, eagerly. “Yes, yes, Master!"

Gently he lowered her to the sand.

* * * *

"You will not sell me, will you?” she begged.

"Certainly,” he said, “if I tire of you."

"Do not tire of me!” she begged.

"We shall see,” he said. “See, look, there are no stars here."

"Do not sell me!"

"You are goods,” he said. “Who knows. I might get a good price for you."

She moaned.

"Do not fret,” he said. “You are a slave. You will leap obediently in any man's hands."

"I cannot help what you have done to me,” she wept.

"But you need it now,” he said.

"Yes, Master,” she said. “I need it now!"

"Be silent,” he said. “Kneel beside me, and please me."

"Yes, Master!"

"Ah!” he said. “If only your young men of Earth could see you now!"

"Oh, Master!” she wept.

"They would doubtless relate to you differently."

"Yes, Master!” she wept.

Presumably this was an allusion to the effect the sight of a female slave may have upon a male, for such a sight can be so violent a spur to manhood as to transform a life, for who who has had a woman as a slave will be content thereafter to do with less?

"Continue,” said Cabot.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

* * * *

"It is late,” said Cabot, “and it is time to retire."

She lay beside him, her head at his waist.

"Do you know
bara
, Lita?” he asked.

"Yes, Master, from the cylinder."

"
Bara
,” he said.

She went to her stomach and crossed her wrists behind her back, and crossed her ankles.

"I am to be bound, Master?” she asked.

He did not respond to her, but in a moment, with two short cords, whipped free, she was trussed, hand and foot.

"Open your mouth, widely,” he said.

She then, in a moment, regarded Cabot, wide-eyed, the packing secured in her mouth, held in place with its straps.

"You obviously did not hear it,” whispered Cabot to the slave. “It is approaching, slowly, coming out of the water."

Her body stiffened in terror.

"I did not want you to scream,” he said. “We do not know who, or what, might be about. Do not fear. I will not let it come too close."

Cabot then lifted her in his arms, and turned toward the lake.

Her entire body began to squirm in terror. He could scarcely hold her.

In the tiny bit of light remaining she detected a large head, perhaps a yard across, wet, glistening from the water, on a long, thick neck, wet, glistening, the head some fifteen feet away, moving on the neck, weaving almost as might have the head of the giant hith, Gor's mightiest constrictor.

"Steady, Lita,” soothed Cabot. “See the jaws. It is herbivorous, probably a grazer on lake plants, perhaps a threat to small fish."

The beast inched forward, on huge, paddlelike appendages. A long tail moved in the sand behind it.

"Do you know gag signals?” asked Cabot.

The beast came a bit closer.

The slave shook her head, negatively, desperately.

"One tiny sound,” said Cabot, “for ‘Yes', two such sounds for ‘No'. Do you understand?"

She nodded affirmatively, vigorously. Her eyes were wide, stricken with terror, over the gag.

"Would you like to withdraw?” he inquired.

She uttered a tiny sound, desperately. In a moment, she uttered another, more fearfully."

"That is two sounds,” said Cabot.

The slave squirmed in protest, in terror.

The head of the beast was something like a yard from them.

She uttered another sound, her body writhing in terror.

"That is one sound,” said Cabot. He then put the slave over his shoulder, her head to the rear, as slaves are commonly carried, and bent down to pick up his stick. He turned, and hit the large head twice, lightly, playfully, on the side. “It is safer for you out here, at night, is it not, big fellow?” Cabot asked the saurian, and he then turned about and climbed the slope toward the forest edge. On his shoulder, the girl was unconscious.

Chapter, the Thirtieth:

A SLAVE LEARNS MORE OF GOR

Cabot looked about.

"I am hungry for meat,” he said.

A breeze was moving inward, gently, from the lake.

This was a function not of fans but of the differential heatings of cylinder surfaces.

The cylinder world, you see, is much like a natural world. It has its exchanges of gases, its alternations of day and night, its diversities of seasons, of temperatures and weathers. Most of the world's environment, too, was parklike, or soft with meadows, hills, and forests. Its agriculture, save for gardening and floriculture, and its industry, save for some traditional smithies and shops, is removed to its auxiliary cylinders, in particular those for agriculture and that for industry. Many Kurii had never been outside the cylinder.

Cabot looked down.

Lying at his feet was an object.

It squirmed in the sand, and Cabot put his foot on it, gently, to quiet it.

It was a female slave.

He removed his foot from the girl's belly.

He had not permitted her her tunic this morning.

Some sand from his bared foot adhered to her belly.

The slave at his feet was no longer gagged, but she was bound hand and foot. Slaves are often bound, or braceleted, or chained, or fastened in one way or another. There is, of course, a great variety of slave ties, and they have little in common other than the fact that in them the slave is absolutely helpless, and left in no doubt as to the fact that she is a bound slave.

The slave looked up at her master. She was frightened, certainly apprehensive. She squirmed a little, in the bonds, but could in no way lessen, reduce or mitigate their perfection.

"Have I displeased you?” she asked.

"No,” he said.

"But I am bound, helplessly,” she said.

"That is because you are a slave,” he said.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

He then lay on the beach, beside her, and she inched to him, and pressed her body against his.

She then inched downward, and kissed him on the thigh.

"May I confess something, Master?” she asked.

"If you wish,” he said.

"I love being bound, helplessly,” she whispered.

"That is because you are a slave,” he said.

"Yes, Master,” she said. “I am then so mastered. I am then so dominated, so much at your mercy, so helpless, so categorically yours, so uncompromisingly and categorically owned."