 Quotes  Master / slave Masters Slaves General |
 Male SlavesThese are relevant references from the Books where male slaves are mentioned. I make no pronouncements on these matters, but report them as I find them. Arrive at your own conclusions. I wish you well, Fogaban Male Slave Thrall Silk Slave Kajirus
Whether or not there were male slaves I could not well judge, for the collars would have been hidden by the gray robes. There is no distinctive garment for a male slave on Gor, since, as it is said, it is not well for them to discover how numerous they are. Many are the objects for sale at the fair. I passed among wines and textiles and raw wool, silks, and brocades, copperware and glazed pottery, carpets and tapestries, lumber, furs, hides, salt, arms and arrows, saddles and harness, rings and bracelets and necklaces, belts and sandals, lamps and oils, medicines and meats and grains, animals such as the fierce tarns, Gor's winged mounts, and tharlarions, her domesticated lizards, and long chains of miserable slaves, both male and female. Accordingly Sarm broadcast throughout the Nest his general amnesty for former Muls, offering them again the opportunity to become the slaves of Priest-Kings. To this generous proposal he added, sensing it might not in itself be irresistible, a tub of salt per man and two female Muls, to be provided after the defeat of Misk's forces, when presumably there would be captured females to distribute to the victors. To the females of Misk's forces he offered gold, jewelry, precious stones, delicious silks, the permission to allow their hair to grow, and male slaves, the latter again to be provided after the projected defeat of Misk's forces. For a male slave, or Kajirus, of the Wagon Peoples, and there are few, save for the work chains, to be clad Kajir means to wear the Kes, a short, sleeveless work tunic of black leather. The Wintering was not unpleasant, although, even so far north, the days and nights were often quite chilly; the Wagon Peoples and their slaves as well, wore boskhide and furs during this time; both male and female, slave or free, wore furred boots and trousers, coats and the flopping, ear-flapped caps that tied under the chin; in this time there was often no way to mark the distinction between the free woman and the slave girl, save that the hair of the latter must needs be unbound; in some cases, of course, the Turian collar was visible, if worn on the outside of the coat, usually under the furred collar; the men, too, free and slave, were dressed similarly, save that the Kajiri, or he-slaves, wore shackles, usually with a run of about a foot of chain. Soon, to my dismay, a large number of Tuchuks, male and female, and their male or female slaves, began to gather near the worn lane on the turf. The terms of the wager were soon well known. I then finished the bottle. I flung it into a refuse hole, dug and periodically cleaned by male slaves. Among the animals I saw many verrs; some domestic tarsks, their tusks sheathed; cages of flapping vulos, some sleen, some kaiila, even some bosk; by the Paravaci haruspexes I saw manacled male slaves, if such were to be permitted; commonly, I understood from Kamchak, the Tuchuks, Kassars and Kataii rule out the sacrifice of slaves because their hearts and livers are thought to be, fortunately for the slaves, untrustworthy in registering portents; after all, as Kamchak pointed out, who would trust a Turian slave in the kes with a matter so important as the election of a Ubar San; it seemed to me good logic and, of course, I am sure the slaves, too, were taken with the cogency of the argument. "Are the girls who attend to the baths during the day as beautiful as it is said?" I inquired. The bath girls of Turia are almost as famous as those of Ar. Then he added, "Sometimes one of the girls, to discipline her, would be thrown amongst us but we had no way of knowing if she were beautiful or not." "You seem to find little fault in men owning female slaves," she said. "Why should you object to being a slave owned by a female?" "I see," I said. She smiled slyly. "I think it might be rather pleasant to have a male slave." She laughed. "I will teach you the meaning of a collar, Tarl Cabot," she said. "You're sure you're quite ready to be a slave?" she asked. "Be quiet," I said gently. "I shall be pleased to own you," she said. "I have always wanted a handsome male slave." In a girl's collar lock there would be either six pins or six disks, one each, it is said, for each letter in the Gorean word for female slave, Kajira; the male slave, or Kajirus, seldom has a locked collar; normally a band of iron is simply hammered about his neck; often he works in chains, usually with other male slaves; in some cities, including Ar, an unchained male slave is almost never seen; there are, incidentally, far fewer male slaves than female slaves; a captured female is almost invariably collared; a captured male is almost invariably put to the sword; "These men are the champions among male slaves at hook knife," said Cernus. He scarcely glanced up from the game board at which he sat across from Caprus, of the Caste of Scribes, Chief Accountant of the House. I heard the crack of a whip and the command "Fight!" and saw the two men begin to close with one another. The first man seemed numb, the heavy blue streak on his throat, and slipped to his knees. Two men-at-arms rushed forward and put him in shackles. For some reason, the man with the whip took the slave's hook knife, unsheathed it, and drew it across the slave's chest, leaving there a smear of blood. It was not a serious wound. It seemed pointless to me. The slave who had lost was then led away in his shackles. The victor, on the other hand, turned about and raised his hands. He was greeted with cheers and was immediately taken to the table on my left, where he was seated at the far end of the table, before a plate heaped with meat, which he began to devour, holding it in his hands, eyes wild, almost lost in the food, to the amusement of the watching men. I gathered the feed troughs in the pens of the male slaves seldom contained viands so choice. "Serve him wine," said he, "or you will be stripped and thrown into a pen of male slaves." "They are very expensive," said Ho-Tu. "Normally the agent of a Ubar who has been victorious in battle will purchase one, for his high officers, to be brought to the victory feast." Ho-Tu looked at me. "The attendants, when the girl is purchased, give her a drug in her food that night, and remove her from the gardens. She is kept unconscious. She will be revived at the height of the Ubar's victory feast, commonly to find herself unclothed in a cage of male slaves set up among the tables." In the hallway we passed four female slaves, naked, on their hands and knees, with sponges, rags and buckets, cleaning the tiles of the corridor. A male slave stood near, a heavy band of iron about his throat, a whipping strap dangling from his right hand. Ho-Tu led the way, moving from catwalk to catwalk, spanning cages below. In these cages, through the bars, male slaves, crowded together, naked and wearing heavy collars, glared sullenly up at us. "It would not be well to lose your footing," advised Ho-Tu. I supposed it was from this sort of facility that the general expression "The Iron Pens" took its origin. On each cage we passed, as we took our way over it, I saw a thin metal plate covered with numbers. Some of these numbers referred to the occupants within the cage, but other numbers were coded to instruct the keepers in such matters as diet, special precautions, date of the lot's acquisition, and its intended disposition. Some of the numbers had been scratched out, and others had been hammered into the plates, which were changed from time to time. The pens seemed humid and, though we were below ground, warm from the heat of the bodies. The only sanitation facility was an open metal mesh, supported by close-set horizontal bars, in the bottom of the cages, beneath which, some five feet below, was a cement floor, washed down and cleaned by slaves once daily. There was a feed trough at one side of each cage and a low watering pan on the other, both filled by means of tubes from the catwalk. The cages of female slaves were mixed in with those of the male slaves, presumably on no other basis than what cage happened to be empty at a given time. The female slaves, like the men, were unclothed, and wore collars; their collars, however, were not the typical locked collar of the female slave but, since they were only in the iron pens, a narrow band of iron, with a number, hammered about their neck. I noted that the females tended to remain near the center of their cage. Their food and water areas were protected from the wall of bars shared with the next cage, which might contain male slaves, by a heavy iron mesh, rather like that of the flooring, riveted by hammer to the bars. Sometimes I supposed a girl might wander too close to the bars and be seized, but, because of the bars, little could be done with her. Mating among slaves is carefully supervised. One or two girls I noted lay on the flooring mesh, their heads near the bars separating them from the males, their hair cruelly tied to the bars. They had been careless. I recalled Harold of the Tuchuks. The pools were beautiful, and yet I knew that somewhere, chained in darkness, were gangs of male slaves who cleaned them each night; "I have plans for this girl," said Cernus, regarding the prisoner through the glass. "I had intended to have her used by a male slave before she leaves the house, but I shall now do so. "No," she said. "Anyone who displeases Cernus might be given to the beast. Sometimes it is a guard even, but normally a slave. Generally it is a male slave from the pens. But sometimes a girl is bloodied and fed to it." I saw one girl, drunk, putting her hands through the bars which separated the cage which she shared with other female slaves, from the cage adjacent to it, filled with male slaves. "Touch me," she begged. "Touch me!" But the males lay in drunken sleep on the stones. Those who jeered me or sported with their straps and stones would have little reason for not thinking me slave. I was barefooted; my only garment was a short woolen, sleeveless tunic; on both the back and the front of this tunic was sewn a large block letter, the initial letter of the Gorean expression "Kajirus," which means a male slave. I had walked through the largely deserted halls, empty save for a scurrying slave or a furtive man-at-arms, gathering his belongings, preparing to make away. I passed numerous prisoners, slaves, male and female, some chained to walls, many locked behind bars. "Doubtless the girls of the Street of Pots will be given some male slaves," said Hup. I had been given the kiss of the Mistress to the male slave. It was said that never had a slave girl escaped from Port Kar, but this, doubtless like many such sayings, was not true. Still, the escape of a slave girl, or of a male slave, must indeed be rare from canaled Port Kar, protected as it is on one side by the Tambar Gulf and gleaming Thassa, and on the other by the interminable marshes, with their sharks and tharlarion. I saw only one slave cage on a barge moving downstream. It contained four or five nude male slaves. They seemed dejected, huddled in their cage. Strangely, a broad swath had been shaven lengthwise on their head. Lana saw this and shrieked out, hooting at them across the water. The men did not even look at us, moving slowly across the current toward Laura. "Some call them the forest girls," said Ute. "Others call them the panther girls, for they dress themselves in the teeth and skins of forest panthers, which they slay with their spears and bows." I looked at her. "They live in the forest without men," she said, "saving those they enslave, and then sell, when tiring of them. They shave the heads of their male slaves in that fashion to humiliate them. And that, too, is the way they sell them, that all the world may know that they fell slave to females, who then sold them." Marlenus' hunting must have ranged widely. Here and there, among the wagons, leashed, clad in short woolen skirts, heavy bands of iron hammered about their throats, under the guard of huntsmen, cowled in the heads of forest panthers, there walked male slaves, male outlaws captured by Marlenus and his hunters in the forest. "Aren't the male slaves exciting," said one of the girls. "Shameless!" I scorned her. Lana and I, and some of the other girls, ran to look at the cages of sleen and panthers, and the trophies. Lana laughed at the cages of male slaves. She and I went to them, with others, too, to taunt them. We would come close to the cages, and when they would reach for us, we would jump back. "Buy me!" I laughed. "Buy me! Buy me!" laughed the others. One of the men reached his hand to Lana. "Let me touch you," he begged. She looked at him, contemptuously. "I do not permit myself to be touched by slaves," she said. She laughed scornfully. "I will belong to a free man, not a slave." Then she walked away from him, as a slave girl, taunting him. He shook the bars in anger. "I, too," I informed him, "will belong to a free man, not a slave. Then I, too, walked away from him, showing him the contempt of a slave girl. I heard him cry out with rage, and I laughed. The small, light, unpleasant work will be done by the female slave; the large, heavy, unpleasant work by the draft animal, or the male slave. With a flash of slave bells, she withdrew. As she left, I noted that she passed by the kneeling male slave, flanked by his guards. She passed him as a slave girl, her head in the air, insolently, taunting him with her body. I glanced across the room. A few yards away, on the tiles, in her brief silk, the two-handled, bronze paga vessel beside her, knelt the slave girl, waiting to be summoned. She was dark-haired, and beautiful. She glanced at the chained male slave, and threw back her head, and smoothed her long, dark hair over her back. In his manacles, kneeling, between his guards, he regarded her. She observed him, and smiled contemptuously, and then looked loftily away, bored. Behind his back, in the irons he wore, I sensed his fists were clenched. "Is this the slave?" I asked Samos. "Bring him forward," said Samos. The two guards, helmeted, threw him to his feet, and half dragging him, half carrying him, their hands on his arms, brought him before us. Then they forced him again to his knees, and thrust his dark, shaggy head down to the tiles before our sandals. The slave girl laughed. When the guard removed his hand from the slave's hair, he straightened his back, and regarded us. He seemed proud. I liked this. "You have an unusual barber," said Samos. The slave girl laughed again, delightedly. The strip which had been shaven on his head, from the forehead to the back of the neck, signified that he had been captured, and sold, by the panther girls of the northern forests. It is among the greatest shames that a man can know, that he had been enslaved by women, who had then, when weary of him, sold him, taking their profit on him. "It is said," said Samos, "that only weaklings, and fools, and men who deserve to be slave girls, fall slave to women." The man glared at Samos. I could sense, again, that, in his manacles, behind his back, his fists were clenched. "I was once the slave of a woman," I told the man. He looked at me, startled. "What is to be done with you?" asked Samos. I could see the heavy metal collar hammered about the man's neck, not uncommon in a male slave. His head would have been placed across the anvil, and the metal curved about his neck with great blows. "Whatever you wish," said the man, kneeling before us. "How came you to be slave?" I asked. "As you can see," he said, "I fell to women." "How came it about?" I asked. "They fell upon me in my sleep," he said. "I wakened to a knife at my throat. I was chained. They much sported with me. When they wearied of me, I was taken, leashed and manacled, to a lonely beach, at the edge of Thassa, bordering on the western edge of the forests." "It is a well-known rendezvous point," said Samos. "It was there one of my ships picked him up, and others." He looked at the man. "Do you recall your price?" "Two steel knives," said the man, "and fifty steel arrow points." "And a stone of hard candies, from the kitchens of Ar," smiled Samos. "Yes," said the man, through gritted teeth. The slave girl laughed, and clapped her hands. Samos did not admonish her. "What is to be your fate?" asked Samos. "Doubtless to be a galley slave," he said. The great merchant galleys of Port Kar, and Cos, and Tyros, and other maritime powers, utilized thousands of such miserable wretches, fed on brews of peas and black bread, chained in the rowing holds, under the whips of slave masters, their lives measured by feedings and beatings, and the labor of the oar. "What were you doing in the northern forests?" I asked him. "I am an outlaw," he said proudly. "You are a slave," said Samos. "Yes," said the man, "I am a slave." The slave girl, in her brief silk, stood, holding the two-handled bronze paga vessel, that she might look down upon him. "Few travelers journey through the northern forests," I said. "Commonly," said he, "I plundered beyond the forests." He looked at the slave girl. "Sometimes," said he, "I plundered within them." She reddened. "At the time I was captured," said he, looking again at Samos, "I was trying chain luck." Samos smiled. "I thought that it was I who was hunting women," said he. "But it was they who were hunting me." The girl laughed. He looked down, angrily. Then he lifted his head. "When am I to be sent to the galleys?" he asked. "You are strong, and handsome," said Samos. "I expect that a rich woman might pay a good price for you." The man cried out with rage, trying to struggle to his feet, fighting his chains. The guards, their hands in his hair, forced him back to his knees. Samos turned to the girl. "What should be done with him?" he asked her. "Sell him to a woman!" she laughed. The man struggled in his chains. "Are you familiar with the northern forests?" I asked. "What man is familiar with the forests?" he asked. I regarded him. "I can live in the forests," he said. "And hundreds of square pasangs, in the south and the west of the forest, I know." "A band of panther women captured you?" I asked. "Yes." he said. "What was the name of the leader of this band?" I asked. "Verna." said he. Samos looked at me. I was satisfied. "You are free," I told the man. I turned to the guards. "Remove his chains." "This one," said one of the girls, "will look well chained at the bench of a galley." "This one," said Sheera, poking the other in the shoulder with her knife, "is not bad." She laughed. "Sell him to a rich woman." He turned his head away from her, his eyes closed, a male slave. Male slaves, on Gor, are not particularly valuable, and do not command high prices. Most labor is performed by free men. Most commonly, male slaves are utilized on the cargo galleys, and in the mines, and on the great farms. They also serve, frequently, as porters at the wharves. Still, perhaps they are fortunate to have their lives, even at such a price. Males captured in war, or in the seizure of cylinders or villages, or in the pillaging of caravans, are commonly slain. The female is the prize commodity in the Gorean slave markets. A high price for a male is a silver tarsk, but even a plain wench, of low caste, provided she moves well to the touch of the auctioneer's coiled whip, will bring as much, or more. An exception to the low prices for males generally is that paid for a certified woman's slave, a handsome male, silken clad, who has been trained to tend a woman's compartments. Some of such bring a price comparable to that brought by a girl, of average loveliness. Prices, of course, tend to fluctuate with given markets and seasons. If there are few such on the market in a given time, their prices will tend to be proportionately higher. Such men tend to be sold in women's auctions, closed to free men, with the exception, of course, of the auctioneer and such personnel. She laughed, and turned about, and waded up to the sand. The two male slaves I had purchased lay on their sides on the deck, their feet and legs pulled up, their wrists together, in their chains. I turned to a seaman. "Take the two male slaves below, to the first hold," I said. "Keep them chained, but dress their wounds, and feed them. Let them rest." We also passed a chain of male slaves, brought downriver from Laura, shaven-headed wretches, taken somewhere in the forests by fierce panther girls. They had probably been sold near Laura, or along the river. The two male slaves I had purchased from Sheera and her band, I had freed. I gave them clothing, and two silver tarsks apiece. They had wished to remain with me, in my service. I had permitted it. There is a Gorean saying that free women, raised gently in the high cylinders, in their robes of concealment, unarmed, untrained in weapons, may, by the slaver, be plucked like flowers. There is no such saying pertaining to panther girls. Needless to say, there are various techniques for the acquisition of slaves, male and female. Much depends, of course, on the number of slavers, the nature of the quarry, and the particulars of a given chase or hunt. The brazier, fierce with heat, stood not two yards from Marlenus of Ar. Its coals were poked and stirred with one of the metal bars. Then one of the men of Tyros lifted the iron, glowing redly, from the fire. Its marking surface, its termination, soft and red in the night, was in the form of a large, block letter in Gorean script, the initial of Kajirus, a common Gorean expression for a male slave. Many supplies had been tied on the backs and shoulders of the male slaves. Apparently the men of Tyros, and the panther girls, feared to free their hands. I did not blame them in this matter, for the men they guarded were dangerous. Some burdens were carried even by the men of Tyros. Others, lighter burdens, were carried by certain of the panther girls. Eight men of Tyros, with whips, struck the male slaves. The march of the men of Tyros had become a rout. Even before I had come upon the column in the morning, I had found abandoned baggage strewn along the trail. I had found also the chains and leg irons that had been fastened on the left ankles of the male prisoners. They had been struck off that the column might move with greater speed. That meant that the male slaves now were fastened in their coffle only by their neck chains. Too, of course, their hands were manacled behind their back. The men of Sarus had controlled the slave chain of prize male slaves; And if the "slavers" who had pursued them wished more plunder, they had left them seventy-five strong male slaves, helpless for their harvesting to their own chains. In the back of the semicircular stockade, miserable, chained, lay Marlenus and Rim and Arn, and the other male slaves. They lay on their stomachs. The manacles on the wrists of slaves, thus, may be easily checked by a guard, with a torch, as he makes his rounds. Further, their heads faced toward the wall of the stockade. The less that a slave can know or see the more easily controlled he is. Lastly, for the night, their ankles were crossed and lashed together with binding fiber. They were quite helpless. "And, too," called Sarus, "you may have all male slaves, including your men, saving only Marlenus, Ubar of Ar." Choirs of such boys often sang in the great temples. They were young male slaves, purchased by initiates, castrated by civil authorities and, in the monasteries, trained in song. "We will require, too," said the Kur, "one thousand male slaves, as porters, to be used, too, in their turn, as provisions. Near the verr pens we found chained male slaves, picked up by Kurii on foraging expeditions, and used as porters. There were more than three hundred such wretches. Svein Blue Tooth was at the pens, leading the attack that had broken the rally. The rally had been led by the Kur who had been foremost in the attack on his hall. This Kur, it seemed, had disappeared, scattering with the others. The Blue Tooth stepped over the body of a fallen Kur. He gestured to the chained male slaves. "Free them," he said, "and give them weapons. There is yet work to do." Eagerly the slaves, when their manacles had been struck away, picked up weapons and sought Kurii. Some of the ornately barred, crimson-draped cells, with brass bowls, and rugs, and cushions and lamps, were quite comfortable; some of the cells held more than one occupant; some of the girls were permitted cosmetics and slave silk; generally, however, girls in the pen are raw, totally, save for their collars and brands, as are male slaves; As we passed the cages, male slaves glared at us sullenly; A stimulation cage is an ornately barred, low-ceilinged cage; it is rather roomy, except for the low ceiling, about five feet high. The girl cannot stand erect in it without her head inclined submissively. In such a cage, and in training, when not in such a cage, the girl who is housed in the stimulation cage is not permitted to look directly into the eyes of a male, even a male slave. Water for these gardens, by contract with slave masters, was carried by chains of male slaves and emptied into house cisterns, whence, later, by house slaves, it would be taken in cans and sprinkled carefully, foot by foot, throughout the garden. I stood aside as a chain of male slaves was herded by, with spear butts. They were bound for the brine pits of the Tahari, whence comes most of the caravan salt. I expected that less than half of them would reach the pits. Heavy collars, with rings, they wore about their necks. A heavy chain, running through the rings, linked them together by the throat. Their wrists, manacled, were behind their backs. They were naked. Men spit at them as they were herded past. I turned to the slave master. "Fetch a male slave," I said. One was brought. He was not a large fellow. He was, however, an inch or so taller than the female slave. "You certify to me," said I to the slave master, "that this man is neither clumsy nor stupid, nor drunk, nor an instructor in combat intent upon increasing the confidence of his pupils." "It is so certified," he smiled. "He is used in cleaning the pens. He is a drover who falsified the quality-markings on spice crates." He looked to the slave master. The slave master came to where the woman lay. He looked down at her. He called two slaves from behind the silver curtain. They looked down at the woman. Then the slave master said, "Put her in slave silk, and give her to male slaves." The woman was carried from the room, to the pens. For a silver tarsk I purchased the male slave, and freed him. Two brawny male slaves, stripped to the waist, spun the two handles on the racks. The ropes were removed from her wrists and ankles. One of the male slaves lifted her from the rack and threw her to the foot of the wall, beside the other girl. The slave there took her by the hair, holding her head down, and, between the back of her neck and the collar, thrust a snap catch, closing it. He then, roughly, burning the side of her neck, slid the catch about her collar, to the front; there he jerked it against her collar; the chain then, which fastened her, like the other girl, to a ring in the floor, ran to her collar, under her chin. She kept her head down, a slave. Salt slaves, in the Tahari, are among the lowest of the male slaves. The same girl who, joyously, would lasciviously writhe at the feet of the free male, begging him for his slightest touch, would often, confronted with male slaves, treat them with the contempt and coldness commonly accorded the men of Earth by their frustrated, haughty females; Female slaves, cringing and obsequious, fearing free men, often display contempt for male slaves. Sometimes they even flaunt their beauty before them, in their walk and movements, to torture them, knowing that the male slave may be slain for so much as touching their silk. I could see that she was much pleased to see me, helpless and in the chain to Klima. I could see in her smile how she looked upon me, as a female slave upon a male slave, but I could see, too, in her smile, the pleasure of her triumph. She looked down upon me, as a female slave upon a male slave. And, too, more than this, she looked down upon me in triumph. Her face was flushed. It was red with pleasure, transfused with joy. How deliciously sweet did she find her petty feminine vengeance! How foolish I thought her. Did she not know I was Gorean? Did she not know I would come back for her? With what contempt, and scorn, and triumph she had looked upon me, a mere male slave, chained and bound for Klima, below her. The male slaves of the seraglio had been freed. They were to be given money and safe conduct to Tor. They, though afoot, joined the march. One exception had Haroun, high Pasha of the Kavars, made. "That one," he had said, sitting in court, in the audience chamber of what had been the kasbah of Ibn Saran, indicating the silken fellow who had worn the ruby necklace, who had tried to betray us to the guards of Tarna, "that one sell in Tor. Sell him to a woman." The fellow had been dragged away. He was with the male slaves toward the rear of the column; he alone among them was not stripped; he wore his seraglio silk, the ruby necklace; they did not look pleasantly upon him. Female slaves, when bred, are commonly hooded and crossed with a male slave, similarly hooded, the breeding conducted under the supervision of their respective owners; a girl is seldom bred with a slave from her own house; personal relationships between male and female slaves are usually frowned upon; sometimes, however, as a discipline even a high female slave is sometimes thrown to a chain of work slaves for their pleasure. The effect of the slave wine endures several cycles, or moons; it may be counteracted by another drink, a smooth, sweet beverage, which frees the girl's body for the act of the male slave, or, in unusual cases, should she be freed, to the act of the lover; slave girls, incidentally, are almost never freed on Gor; they are too delicious and desirable to free; only a fool, it is commonly said, would free one. I watched the man. He walked proudly. I knew there were male slaves on Gor, but I had not seen them. Most Gorean slaves are female. Male captives are commonly killed. "Let Dina give you pleasure, Master," I whispered. "Let Dina please you." I bit at his tunic, which was torn, with my teeth. "You should let Dina please you," I said, "for soon you may be branded, and then you will be only a poor little slave like Dina." With my teeth I tore away his upper tunic, stripping him to the waist. He had a mighty chest. I caressed his flanks, and licked and bit at his belly. "Male slaves," I said, "may be slain for so much as touching a slave girl." I looked up at him. "Dina is sorry that you will soon be a slave, Master," I said. No longer did I wear the Turian collar; it had been roughly filed from my neck by a male slave, under the whip of his overseer. He had been struck once when he had let his finger touch the side of my neck. I do not know if he did it on purpose or not. A male slave, his wrists chained, separated by some eighteen inches of linked metal, pushing a wharf cart passed me. He looked upon me. I was furious! I ran to him, in rage, and slapped him. "Do not look upon me!" I cried in rage. "I am not for the likes of you! You are a slave! A slave!" He pulled back his head, angrily. "Slave!" I screamed. "Slave!" I spun about. I saw one who must be his master, a merchant. I was red with fury. I ran to the merchant and knelt before him. I pointed to the male slave. "He looked upon me!" I cried. "He looked upon me!" "Have you permission to speak?" he asked. "May a girl speak?" I asked, frightened. "Yes," he said. Emboldened then, I pointed again to the male slave. "He dared to look upon me," I said. I knew that male slaves were carefully supervised. I knew it could be quite unpleasant for one of them to be caught looking upon a slave girl. To be caught looking upon a free woman could mean death for them. "He looked upon me," I said, pointing to the male slave. Surely he would be, at the least, whipped for his indiscretion. The beauty of slave girls was for free men, not for the slave likes of such as he. "You are too good for him?" asked the merchant. "Yes," I said. I then realized this was not the proper thing to say. But I had said it. "You are both animals," he said. "Yes, Master," I said. "But you are a female," he said. "Yes, Master," I said. "And he," he said, "though slave is yet male." "Yes, Master," I whispered. "And is not the male animal the master of the female animal?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said. I knew that male dominance was pervasive among mammals, and that it was universal among primates. It can be frustrated only by an extensive and complex conditioning program, one adequate, over a period of years, to distort the order of nature. "Do you find this slave of interest?" asked the master of the male slave. He shrugged. "She is small," he said. I looked at him, frightened. "But she is not without interest," he conceded. "Do you think you can catch her?" asked the master. "Of course," said the male slave. I rose to my feet, frightened. I began to back away. "She is yours," said the master. I turned to run. He caught me before a large box, and flung me, face forward, against it. When I recoiled back from the hot wood the chain on his wrists had looped about me, and I was his, held to him by the chain about his wrists. "It is long since I have had a wench," he said. He dragged me along beside him, the chain looped about my body, cutting into my waist over the left hip. "Be merciful to a slave, Master," I begged. Behind some boxes, on the boards of the wharf, he threw me down, under him. "Please be kind to a slave, Master," I begged. He laughed. The master did not hurry him, but, I think, attended to other matters. The wharf cart had been empty. When the slave left me I had yielded to him, as though he might have been a free man. I was much shamed. I lay behind the boxes and looked up at the blue sky. I was miserable. I had been used by a slave. But, too, I was frightened. It was surely past the time when I should have returned to the Chatka and Curia. I did not want to be whipped! Slowly, painfully, my legs stiff, I climbed to my feet. I rearranged the bit of silk I wore. A handsome male slave had once smiled at me and I, inadvertently, had reddened and basked in his pleasure. I had been turned about and marched home, to be put under the whip. I saw male slaves thrusting a cart filled with quarry stones. It left deep tracks in the rain-softened earth. Slavery also, of course, encompasses the ownership of male slaves, for which there is less precedent in nature. Where males are concerned the institution is primarily economic. The labor of male slaves is useful and cheap. It is applied in such places as the quarries, the roads, the great farms, in certain types of cargo galleys, on the wharves, at the walls of cities and in the forests. Male slaves are usually debtors or criminals; sometimes they are captives, taken in actions against enemy cities or facilities; sometimes they have merely accrued the displeasure of powerful men or families; some slavers, working in gangs, specialize in the capture of free men for work projects; they obtain a fee per head on a contractual basis. In two Ahn we were ready to withdraw from the complex. Sleds were readied; prisoners, men of the complex, now in furs, some forty of them, were tied, their hands behind them, their necks linked by a long rope of rawhide, placing them in coffle. There was no fight left in them; they knew that on the ice, away from the technology of the complex, they could survive only if the red hunters chose to let them do so. Some would be sold to traders in the spring; others might be kept in the camps, to serve the red hunters; they, male slave beasts, would be stronger than female slave beasts. Perhaps eventually a hunter would take a trading trip south and take them with him, bound, to dispose of them in, say, Lydius, with his furs and other trade goods. Then we were beyond her. We also passed pens of male slaves. These, usually criminals and debtors, or prisoners taken in wars, then enslaved, are commonly sold cheaply and used for heavy labor. The two male slaves, to the right, turned the crank of the windlass and she was drawn, in her turn, struggling, before the men. "Can your master not afford to give you a decent tunic?" asked Sasi. I smiled, for Sasi, herself, did not have a stitch to wear. I would have her improve her slave skills considerably before I would let her have so much as a rag. "I wager your master has you dance for male slaves!" cried Sasi. "You seem to have no male slaves," I observed. "They are now scarce in Schendi," he said. "Bila Huruma, Ubar of Lake Ushindi, uses them for work on his great canal." "It must be difficult to obtain so many male slaves," I said. "Most who work on the canal are not slaves," said Uchafu. "Many are debtors or criminals. Many are simply common men, impressed into service, victims of work levies imposed on the villages. Indeed, only this year Bila Huruma has demanded quotas of men from Schendi herself." "At the stockade of the talunas," I said, "there was a prison hut. Within it I heard the chains of a prisoner. The chains were heavy. It is probably a male. Women such as talunas sometimes keep a male slave or two. They are useful, for example, in performing draft labors. I would keep him chained until a determination can be made of his nature. He may be a brigand. I then suggest that the stockade be examined for any other slaves, or objects of interest or value. Then I would, if I were you, burn the stockade." Both girls knelt before the Lady Gina. She spoke to them in Gorean. I heard the word 'Kajirus', which I would later learn was an expression for a male slave, and I heard the expression 'Jason', which was the name I had been given. She did not look at me, but she spoke to me. "On Gor," she said, "we would not even break our male slaves as the men of Earth are broken." "Pour, Jason," said the Lady Gina. "Yes, Mistress," I said. I left the line of kneeling male slaves and approached the table, carrying the vessel of wine Tela had given me. I heard a stirring behind me, of the other male slaves, in their silks and ribbons. They had not been pleased that the mistress had commended me. They were jealous of such things, and of their handsomeness. In fury I went to the side of the room and put down the vessel of wine. There, at the side of the room, I fetched cloths and water and returned, quickly, to clean the table and floor, where Lola had struck over the cup. "Clumsy slave," whispered one of my fellow male slaves, kneeling at the line, to me. When I had cleaned the table and floor and replaced the water and cloths I again knelt before Lola. Extending in a line to my left, the same line in which I formed the initial point, stripped, secured as I was, were twenty more male slaves. We were being examined by five women, veiled and robed, woman slavers. "Lola," said the Lady Gina, "begin at the far end of the line of male slaves. Tell each that you are his slave. Kiss them. Tell them that you love them. Address them as Master. Then, kiss them again." "Yes, Mistress," said Lola, miserably. She ran lightly to the end of the line. The Lady Gins followed her to the end of the line. She removed the whip from its hook on her belt. This action did not pass unnoticed by Lola. "Be sensuous, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "I think you can manage that," she added, acidly. "Yes, Mistress," said Lola, casting a frightened glance at the Lady Gina, and, too, at the female slavers. Lola then took the first male slave in her arms. She looked up at him. "I am your slave, Master," she said. She then kissed him. "I love you, Master," she said. Then she kissed him again. "Excellent, Lola," said the Lady Gina. Two of the woman slavers laughed. One of them, with a marking stick, made a notation on a paper she carried. It was clipped on a board. "Proceed to the next," said the Lady Gina. Lola, obedient, frightened, proceeded to the next slave. It was a great shame, I knew, for a female slave to even have to touch a male slave, let alone to perform such an act as to address him as master. Female slaves despise male slaves. They regard themselves, and correctly, I suppose, as the rightful property only of free men and women, masters and mistresses. At last Lola stood before me. Her eyes were filled with tears. She almost choked. "Not him, please, Mistress!" she begged. "You have hesitated in the performance of your duties, Lola," said the Lady Gina. Swiftly Lola put her arms about me. Then, suddenly, for an instant, she held me tightly. I had then felt her body, for the instant, spasmodically move against mine. Her cheek was against my chest. "Interesting," said one of the woman slavers. "I think the little slut should be whipped," said another. "Have no fear," said the Lady Gina. "She will be punished." Lola drew back a little. She trembled. I could still feel her body, sweet in its trembling, against mine. She looked up at me. There were tears in her eyes. "Proceed, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "With so despicable a slave, Mistress?" asked Lola. "Proceed, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "Yes, Mistress," said the girl. She then, again, held me more closely. Again she lifted her eyes to mine. "Look at the little slut," said one of the women. "She is excited." "Filthy little slave slut," said another. Lola was stark naked, save for her collar. She was barefoot on the tiles. "I am your slave, Master," she whispered to me. I felt her belly against me, and her breasts. She was the sort of woman a man of Earth would scarcely have dared to let enter his dreams. I recalled that she had once been forced to lie naked before me as a slave girl. I must resist her! Then the hot, sensual, naked, collared she of her pressed to me. I felt her lips on mine, and, she kissed me, with the liquid, melting, indescribable kiss of the slave girl, the owned woman. "I love you, Master," she whispered. "Aiii!" cried one of the women. I cried out with misery. The women laughed. "That one is alive!" laughed one of them. "Are you sure he is from Earth, the slave world?" asked another. "It will be a lucky mistress who gets him," said another. I looked at the women, wretchedly, shamed. I looked at the woman with the marking stick and the paper, clipped to its board. She looked at me and laughed. I saw the marking stick move, as she made a notation on her record. "Do not put your clothing on, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "Go directly to your kennel. You will hear from me later." "Yes, Mistress," said Lola. Then she looked at me. "I hate you, Slave!" she cried. "Slave!" "Run, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "Yes, Mistress," said Lola, and fled from the room. "What a slut she is," said one of them, "to be excited by a mere male slave." I knelt, head down, before the square iron box, the exterior of which was enameled white, one side of which, its door, on hinges, lay opened on the tiles. I tensed. On two sides of the box, in red paint, was a Kef, in block printing. Kef, of course, is the initial letter not only of the Gorean expression 'Kajira', the most common Gorean expression for a female slave, but also 'Kajirus', the most common Gorean expression for a male slave. The block printing-indicated that the box was suitable for a male slave. I had then been scented, with the colognes and perfumes thought suitable for certain types of male slaves. Gorean women, not trained to be ashamed of their instincts, not tutored in the betrayal and suppression of their nature, tend to look upon males whom they find attractive with both honesty and pleasure. The concealment of feelings, particularly where male slaves are concerned, is a deceit not often practiced by Gorean women. What a fool I had been not to realize that she was not a true slave girl. A true slave girl, I gathered, would not even have dared to think of behaving as she had. They knew the penalties. Besides the concern of a slave girl is not with male slaves; their concern is with free men, their masters. "Have you had him branded yet?" asked the Lady Melpomene. "No," said the Lady Florence. "I keep my male slaves smooth-thighed." I had been had numerous times on Gor by free women, usually chained or obedient to their commands, but I had not been permitted, myself, to take a woman, to hold her in my arms, owning her, and transform her into an obedient, squirming slave. Uncontrollable, wild, starved for the ownership of a woman, I thrust her back, brutally, against the wall. Then I dragged her, half lying, holding her helplessly, from the wall. Her head was up in the leash collar. "Oh," she cried, "oh!" "Disgusting!" I heard from a free woman passing in the street. "Animal!" I heard another woman say. But these passers-by, and others, did not order us apart. We were slaves. Such scenes are not unknown on Gorean streets. They would attract little more attention than would the writhings of pet sleen. It is for such reasons that slave girls are sometimes sent from their houses locked in the iron belt. To be sure the slave girl is more likely to be attacked by young ruffians than male slaves, who are often closely supervised. I saw the blond-haired girl, the last one in the right-hand coffle line, turn about, in her chain and collar. She was curious, apparently, to see if I still followed. She smiled. I grinned at her. I had made her use the word 'Master' to me. Then she looked ahead again. But her body moved, suddenly, as that of a slave girl. I smiled. She might once have been free but now, clearly, she was only a slave. She was aroused. When she returned to the house of her master I had little doubt but what she would kneel to the nearest keeper and beg to be used, perhaps to be given for an Ahn, hooded, to the male slave of his choice. Men and women of the household, including male and female slaves, domestic slaves, house slaves, such as short-legged, luscious Taphris, had gathered about. "In the stables," he said, "we have, too, besides the male slaves, some Kajirae, stable sluts, as we call them. I can assign these as I please." The sight of the Mistress' ankle, of course, even booted, is tantalizing; it is exciting and provocative. The male slave, thus, if he is vital, finds himself powerfully drawn to look upon it. On the other hand he knows that such an act can be punished by death. Thus, when he is in the presence of his Mistress, she in such a habit, he becomes fearful and ill at ease. She, in effect, flaunts herself in front of him, acting however as though no such thing is going on. She knows that he is in misery. She exploits this in her control of him. The Mistress was now some four slaves from me. I was the thirty-fifth in a long line of male slaves, some forty-two in length. We knelt, in brief brown tunics, in the soft earth. "Of course, Lady Florence," said Kenneth. "Forgive me. They are, of course, only slaves who are set at one another." "That is true," she said. "It is not as though they were people. They are only animals." It was true. Slaves, both male and female, are animals. Anything may be done with them. I smiled. I did not think Kenneth truly objected to my rutting with the lovely, neck-ringed stable slut. Indeed, he had not kept her chained by the neck to her ring in the kennels for stable sluts this morning, a precaution which is not uncommon for a girl who is to be soon sold. Rather he had let her wander free. I think that he was not, in his way, unkind. He had doubtless suspected that she would seek me out, or another male slave of her choice. "I bring you another, a replacement," he said, indicating a prone figure, in a slave sack. "Good," said Kenneth. "We are short on stable sluts. They are useful in keeping the male slaves content, and may well be applied to lighter labors, on which a man's strength would be wasted." "Conditions deemed pertinent to the cognizance of a certain male slave's whereabouts and activities," he said. "He is a male slave, a fighter," protested Kenneth. "He needs a collared slut squirming in his arms. He has earned her." The wool of the hurt is usually used for male slave garments; it absorbs perspiration well; and rep-cloth is commonly used for female slave garments; it is quite thin and clings well to the curves of the female body. Early in the morning we had been in the southeast meadow, Barus, and I, and others in a work crew of male slaves. "Now I think that I shall truly shame you," she said. "Mistress?" asked Melpomene. "Now you shall dance," she said, "before a male slave." "No," she said. "I will not send her to the stables." I found that disappointing. Melpomene, I thought, would make a superb stable slut. Just the sight of her about the stables would drive the male slaves wild with desire, let alone the occasional opportunity to get their hands on her. Within the wagon, in low-sided, heavy stalls, by means of rings at the front and back of the stall, and on the side of the stall near our necks, we were chained by the ankles, wrists and neck. We had, thus, far less freedom of movement than is commonly accorded to females. On the other hand this additional security was only to be expected. We were male slaves, and fighting slaves. I pulled against the chains. They held me well. Gorean masters, for most practical purposes, simply do not lose slaves. "My Master, Miles of Vonda took ship from Victoria, in the Flower of Siba." I knew the ship. Siba is one of the Vosk towns. It lies to the east of Sais. "He was bound for Turmus. He took two slaves with him, myself and a male slave, he named Krondar." There are few male slaves with long pedigrees. Goreans, though recognizing the legal and economic legitimacy of male slavery, do not regard it as possessing the same biological sanction as attaches to female slavery. The natural situation, in the mind of many Goreans, is that the master set / slave relation is one which ideally exists between man and woman, with the woman in the property position. Male slaves, from time to time, can receive opportunities to win their freedom, though, to be sure, usually in situations of high risk and great danger. The desperate tensions of the strong male must be relieved, and well, else health must be replaced with illness, eccentricity or neurosis. Perhaps the cruelest deprivation which a master or mistress can inflict on a male slave is to deny him access to soft, warm, yielding female flesh. Every strong man needs one or more slaves. I had not been given a quirt, a permission quirt, beaded, such as might give a male slave power over such women. I looked at her. She was luscious. I could not so much as touch her. "You are only a male slave," she spat out, suddenly. "I despise male slaves. I hold them in contempt. I am too high for them. I am too lofty for them. I am above them! Girls such as I belong to and are for free men!" She did not need the sip root, of course, for, as she had pointed out, she had had some within the moon, and, indeed, the effect of sip root, in the raw state, in most women, is three or four moons. In the concentrated state, as in slave wine, developed by the caste of physicians, the effect is almost indefinite, usually requiring a releaser for its remission, usually administered, to a slave, in what is called the breeding wine, or the "second wine." When this is administered she usually knows that she has been selected for crossing with a handsome male slave. Such breedings commonly take place with the slaves hooded, and under the supervision of the master, or masters. In this way the occurrence of the breeding act can be confirmed and authenticated. Sometimes a member of the caste of scribes is also present, to provide certification on behalf of the city. Usually, however, in cities which encourage this sort of registration it is sufficient to bring the papers for stamping to the proper office within forty Ahn. Such rigor, however, is usually involved only in the breeding of expensive, pedigreed slaves. Most slave breeding is at the discretion of the private master or masters involved. Slaves from the same household, incidentally, are seldom mated. This practice is intended to reduce the likelihood of intimate emotional relationships among slaves. Furthermore, male and female slaves are usually kept separate, female slaves commonly performing light labors in households and male slaves working in the fields or on the grounds. Sometimes, to reward male slaves, or keep them content, or even to keep them from going insane, a female slave is thrown to them. This is sometimes a girl of delicate sensibilities from the house who has not been perfectly pleasing; she then finds herself thrown naked to work slaves. In slave matings, since most crossings do not take place within the same household, a stud fee is usually paid to the master of the male slave. The active ingredient in the breeding wine, or the "second wine," is a derivative of teslik. In the matter of bitterness of taste there is little to choose from between raw sip root and slave wine, the emulsive qualities of the slave wine being offset to some extent by the strength of the concentrations involved. There were some five wagons approaching the city, in a line. Each was being drawn by two strings of harnessed male slaves, about twenty slaves in each string. Sometimes, in our descent, on catwalks, we had even passed over pit cells, little more than holding holes, ceilinged with locked iron gates, sunk in the floor of the corridor. I had cried out with misery and terror in passing over one of these for a large hand, emerging suddenly through the grating, had seized my ankle. Drusus Rencius had pried open the fingers and thrust the hand away. I then kept closely to the center of the catwalks. There were male slaves in this house, too, I had learned. Had the slave known I was free, I do not think he would have touched me. He might have remained crouching in his hole, thinking what thoughts he might, but I do not think he would have dared to touch me. A male slave can be slain for touching a free woman. "She is not here for punishment," Hermidorus had informed the dark shapes beneath the grating. I then realized that a slave girl, perhaps for purposes of her discipline, might be lowered through the grating hole, doubtless into eager hands, the grating then being resecured. The wagon seemed to be drawn by two strings of male slaves, twenty in each string, as is common. The first collar I had worn had been a color-coded transfer collar, put on me at the holding area outside the gate, probably primarily to comply with the ordinance that female slaves in Ar must wear a visible token of their bondage; otherwise we might simply have had our destinations written on our bodies. This was my first owner collar. The laws of Ar, incidentally, do not require a similar visible token of bondage on the bodies of male slaves, or even any distinctive type of garments. The historical explanation of this is that it was originally intended to make it difficult for male slaves to make contact with one another and to keep them from understanding how numerous they might be. On the other hand, male slaves are not numerous, at least within the cities, as opposed to the great farms or the quarries, and they are, in fact, usually collared. Some, however, depending on the whim of the master or mistress, may wear a distinctive anklet or bracelet. "Gently, Tiffany," said the whip master. "You are not rubbing down a tharlarion." "Yes, Master," I said. "Use the sponge well," he said. "Remember that it must not only clean but caress, and do not forget, in this service, to fondle and kiss the master, humbly and lovingly." I kissed the wet shoulder of the man in the bath, and then kissed his cheek, through the wet canvas hood drawn over his face. He moaned. He was a male slave. Too, some male slaves are fine musicians. She summons her palanquin and bearers, male slaves, and is to be carried to this place. The chair, I noted, was not borne by male draft slaves, but was supported by tharlarion. There might be various reasons for this. One might be ostentation, a simple display of wealth, for good tharlarion are generally more expensive than male slaves, particularly draft slaves. But perhaps, even more, the cargo might be regarded as too precious to be risked in the vicinity of male slaves. After all, they are men. Too, perhaps it was felt inappropriate, if the cargo was deemed of sufficient beauty, that it even be borne by male slaves. After all, might there not be some danger, as the fair occupant entered into, or descended gracefully from, the sedan chair, that there might be the careless movement of a veil, revealing a bit of throat, or the inadvertent lifting of a robe of concealment, giving them the glimpse of a briefly exposed ankle? With a grating sound, he shoved the heavy terracotta lid back in place, on the huge vat. It was at the foot of the stairs, where the slop pots could be emptied into it. Such vats are changed once or twice weekly, the old vats loaded in wagons and taken outside the city, where their contents are disposed of at one of the carnarii, or places of refuse pits. They are then rinsed out and ready to be delivered again, in their turn, to customers. This is done by one of several companies organized for the purpose. The work is commonly done by male slaves, supervised by free men. After a large breakfast this morning, we had been fed very lightly, however, only a handful of dry gruel put in our mouths after the closing of the exposition area. To be sure, I supposed it was enough for us. We need far less food than men. It is cheaper to feed us than male slaves. My collar size is eleven horts. These are average sizes. Gloria, for example would have taken larger sizes. Men's sizes, those of male slaves, incidentally, though the numbers are similar, are on a different scale. "Whose slave are you, then?" he asked. "I am the slave of Teibar of Ar," I said. This was the first time I had ever spoken these words, I was thrilled to speak them. They gave the name and city of my master. If a guardsman or any free person, or even a male slave, or a female slave in a position of authority, were to inquire as to the identity of my master, that was the information that I would be expected to give them. A house marshal was approaching, carrying a baton, with which he touched folks and made a passage among them. He was preceding the palanquin of a free woman, apparently a rich one, borne by some eight male slaves. I stepped to one side to let the marshal, the palanquin and its bearers move past. The sides of the palanquin were veiled. "Cos may be hiring," said a fellow. "They do not need any more," said another. I supposed that was true. "It is strange," said Marcus. "I would have thought they might even free and arm male slaves." I shrugged. "But then," he said, "I suppose there are not too many male slaves in the city who might serve in that capacity." "Perhaps not," I said. It was not like the city contained large numbers of dangerous, powerful, virile male slaves, such as might be found on the galleys, in the quarries, on the great farms, and so on. Such, in numbers, would be dangerous in the city. Most male slaves in the city were pampered silk slaves, owned by Gorean women who had not yet learned their sex. Such slaves, when captured, if not slain in disgust by the victors, were usually herded together like slave girls, and chained for disposition in markets catering to their form of merchandise, markets patronized largely by free women. To be sure, there were virile male slaves in Ar. For example, many of the fellows who attended to the great refuse vats usually kept at the foot of the stairs in insulae were male slaves. Usually they worked under the direct or indirect supervision of free men. Occasionally they would be treated to a dram of paga or thrown a kettle girl for the evening. At the foot of the stairs, as is common in insulae, there was a great wastes pot, into which the smaller wastes pots of the many tiny apartments in the building are emptied. These large pots are then carried off in wagons to the carnaria, where their contents are emptied. This work is usually done by male slaves under the supervision of a free man. The major reason for cropping the hair of field slaves, both male and female, and certain other forms of work slaves, is to protect them from parasites. The lot of a state slave can be one of great deprivation. Indeed, I fear it often is. Certainly it is commonly regarded as an extremely unenviable slavery by most slaves. To be sure, they are occasionally made available to male slaves, guards and such. "Also," I said, "what were you doing here, accosting a male slave?" She approached with rapid, small steps, her head down, her hands to the side, slightly extended, palms back. When near him she lifted her head slightly, hardly daring to meet his eyes, and then she knelt before him, as before a master, doing obeisance onto him, her head down to the stones before his golden sandals, the palms of her hands, too, on the stones. This was not inappropriate, of course, even though both were slaves, as she was female and he male, and the obeisance thus, manifested in this instance in the persons of slaves, might be regarded simply as that of that of femaleness to maleness. "How could you have done this to me?" wailed Appanius. Lavinia's nipples were still erected. They were very lovely. "How could you do this to me?" begged Appanius. The male slave did not respond to these questions. I thought that Lavinia was exquisite, naked, collared, in the net. I had once told her she could make a rock sizzle. Surely that was true. "How! How!" demanded Appanius. Lavinia was very exciting in the net. I felt like pulling her out and using her myself. "Surely it is not hard to understand," said Marcus. "She is very pretty." I did not think that this was a judicious remark on his part, but then who am I to judge? "Master, no, Master!" cried the male slave. Appanius then, with a cry of rage, seizing his staff with both hands, struck down with it, smiting the male slave on the shoulder. He then, again and again, struck him, about the back and shoulders. "Appanius!" said the male slave. "Do not dare speak my name to me," he wept, "slave!" "Forgive me, Master!" said the slave. I released the staff of Appanius, as the slave had dared to address the master by the master's name. To be sure, he might have become accustomed to doing so in the past but that was no excuse for permitting such boldness in the future. It was time the slave learned his condition, and was taken in hand. Five times then the master struck the slave, and tears pressed from between the eyelids of the punished slave. "Please, Master," wept Lavinia, "do not let him so strike him!" "Did you not hear?" I asked. "He used the master's name to him. He is to be beaten as an errant slave." "Master!" she wept. "Be silent, slave girl," I said. "Yes, Master," she wept. Twice more the staff fell on the male slave, who now shuddered in the net. "It is I who am wholly guilty," said the male slave. "He spoke without permission," I said. "Also, in the light of your point, he has lied." Appanius then, as Lavinia wept, struck the male slave twice He moaned in the net, beaten. "Get him out of the net," said Appanius, angrily, "and chain him." In a moment the male slave lay on his stomach on the furs, chained, hand and foot. A heavy collar, too, was locked on his neck. To this was attached a chain leash. He was then drawn from the couch and put on his knees, at the feet of his master. Lavinia, still under the net, knelt to one side on the couch. I went to her and extricated her from the net, dropping it to the side. She then, frightened, wide-eyed, knelt near me. "Master?" she asked, looking up. "Be silent," I said. "My Milo, my Milo!" wept Appanius, looking down at the much-beaten slave. "The most beautiful slave in Ar! My beloved slave! My beloved Milo!" "He has betrayed you," said one of the retainers. "How could you do it?" asked Appanius. "Have I not been good to you? Have I not been kind? Have you wanted for anything? Have I not given you everything!" The slave kept his head down. I think he was sick, and I did not much blame him. He had taken a fearful beating. His back and shoulders were covered with welts. I did not think that anything had been broken. I wondered if he had ever been beaten before. Perhaps not. I myself had doubtless been responsible for a few of those blows, but then they had been appropriately administered. His behavior, after all, had contained errors. "He is an ungrateful slave," said another of the retainers. "Send him to the fields," said one of the retainers. "Sell him," said another. "Make him an example to others," said the first retainer. "We can find you a better, Appanius," said another. "One even more beautiful," said one. "And one with appropriate dispositions," said another. "And he, too, if you wish, can be trained as an actor and performer," said another. Marcus looked at me, puzzled. He did not really follow this conversation. I did not react to his look. "What shall I do with him?" asked Appanius. "Let all your slaves learn that they are your slaves," said one of the retainers. "Speak clearly," said Appanius. "Rid yourself of him," whispered the fellow. "Yes," said another. Appanius looked down at the chained slave. I now had some understanding of the jealousy of the retainers for the slave. The slave had doubtless enjoyed too much power in the house, too much favor with the master. They were eager to bring him down. "How?" asked Appanius. "He has been unfaithful to you," said a retainer. "He has made a fool of you, with a woman," said another. This remark seemed to have its effect with Appanius. "If this gets out, you will be a laughing stock in Ar," said another. I doubted this. It is natural enough for a male slave to have an eye for female slaves, and it is not unusual for a female slave to occasionally, say, find herself taken advantage of by such a fellow. To be sure, it is much more dangerous for a male slave to accost a female slave than for a free man to do so. Unauthorized uses of female slaves are almost always by free men. They have little, or nothing, to fear, for the girls are only slaves. The masters, if they are concerned about such things, may put the girls in the iron belt, particularly if they are sending them on late errands, or into disreputable neighborhoods. Appanius seemed to be becoming angry. I looked at the slave. His hands were manacled closely behind his back. The chains on his ankles would hardly permit him to walk. The chain leash dangled to the floor, where it lay in a rough coil. "So, Milo," said Appanius, "you would make of me a laughing stock?" "No, Master," said the slave. "One can well imagine him laughing about how he betrayed you with a woman," said one of the retainers. "It will be the whip, and close chains for you, Milo!" said Appanius. "No," said one of the retainers. "Let him serve as an example to all such slaves as he!" "Yes!" said another retainer. "Let it be the eels!" said another. "Yes!" said the fourth. "No!" screamed Lavinia. "No!" She leaped to her feet and ran to Milo, to kneel beside him, holding him, weeping. She turned then to Appanius. "No, no, please!" she wept. "No! Please!" I took her by the hair and threw her back, away from Milo, to the floor, where she scrambled to her knees and, tears in her eyes, frantic, regarded us. Many estates, particularly country estates, have pools in which fish are kept. Some of these pools contain voracious eels, of various sorts, river eels, black eels, the spotted eel, and such, which are Gorean delicacies. Needless to say a bound slave, cast into such a pool, will be eaten alive. I looked closely at Appanius. He was white-faced. As I had suspected, he was not enthusiastic about this proposal. "It must be the eels," said the first retainer. "Nothing less will expunge the blot upon your honor," said another. "What blot?" said Appanius, suddenly, lightly. The retainers regarded him, speechless. "What is it to my honor," asked Appanius, "if I have been betrayed by an ungrateful, worthless slave? It is scarcely worth noting." "Appanius!" said the first retainer. "Do you wish to buy a slave?" asked Appanius of me, as though lightly. But I saw that he was desperate in this matter. Indeed, I was touched. His problem was a difficult one. He wanted to save both his honor and the life of the slave. As outraged as he might be, as angry, as terribly hurt as he was, even as sensitive of his honor as I supposed he might be, he was trying to save the slave. I was startled by this. Indeed, it seemed he might care for him, truly. That development I had not anticipated. I had thought that things would have worked out much more simply. I had expected him to be outraged with Milo and be ready, in effect, to kill him, at which point I was prepared to intervene, with a princely offer. If he were rational, and the offer was attractive enough, as it could be, as I had a fortune in gold with me, I could obtain the slave. That is the way I had anticipated things would proceed. If Appanius would not sell Milo, then I could simply keep Appanius, and the others, with the exception of Milo, bound and gagged somewhere, say, in the pantry in the back, and use Milo, still the slave of Appanius, to achieve my objective in a slightly different fashion, one then merely involving two steps rather than one. If he would not sell Milo, certainly he would be willing to sell another, one who might, for a time at least, be too dangerous to acknowledge, too dangerous to free, too dangerous to keep. "Perhaps," I said. "I have one for sale," said Appanius. "No, Appanius!" said the first retainer. "He is cheap," said Appanius, bitterly. "How much?" I asked. "He is the cheapest of the cheap," said Appanius, bitterly. "Do not sell him, Appanius!" said the first retainer. "He is the most valuable slave in all Ar!" said another. "To me," said Appanius, "he is worth less than the lowest pot girl." "How much do you want?" I asked, warily. I had some forty-five pieces of gold with me. "He is worthless," said Appanius. "He should be cast away." "Throw him to the eels, Appanius," whispered the first retainer. "No," said Appanius, "rather let him know my estimate of his worth." "How much do you want?" I asked. "A tarsk bit," said Appanius. The retainers cried out with horror. The slave looked up, startled, trembling. Lavinia gasped. "A tarsk bit," repeated Appanius. The slave wept in shame, and jerked at the manacles in frustration. But he could not free himself. Well were his hands confined behind him. "I think I can afford that," I said. "That is the most valuable slave in Ar!" said one of the retainers. "No," said Appanius. "It is the most worthless slave in Ar." I removed a tarsk bit from my wallet and gave it to Appanius. "He is yours," said Appanius. The slave looked up at me while the retainer removed his chains, and the identificatory slave bracelet, of silver, which he had worn on his left wrist. The retainer also gathered up his clothing, the golden sandals, the purple tunic, the robe, with the hood. Such things I had not purchased. I had, however, anticipated such things, and had brought, among several other things, some suitable garments with me, from the insula of Torbon. "To whom do you belong?" I asked. "To you, Master," he said. "Remain on your knees, slave," I said. "Yes, Master," he said. Lavinia looked wildly at me, and then at the slave. And he looked at her, and at me. They both knew that they were now of the same household. They both knew that they now belonged to the same master. In a few moments Appanius and I had concluded our business. The papers had been signed, and witnessed. Appanius, returned to the front room, looked down at the male slave. "Do you wish to beg the forgiveness of your former master for what you have done?" he asked. "No, Master," said the slave. "Not for what I have done." "I see," said Appanius. "But I beg your forgiveness, if I have hurt you," he said. "That was not my intention." "As I have not been hurt," said Appanius, "no forgiveness is necessary." "Yes, Master," said the slave. "I see that you are at last learning deference," said Appanius. "Yes, Master," said the slave. "Thank you, Master." Appanius, then, with a swirl of his robes, exited. He was followed by two of his retainers. The other two lingered, momentarily. Among them was the first retainer. "We have spoken among ourselves, the four of us," he said. "We will give you a silver tarsk for Milo." "You are very generous," I said. "That is a considerable profit for me." "You accept?" he asked. "No," I said. "Why not?" he asked. "There are free women in Ar," I said, "who would pay a thousand pieces of gold for him." The two retainers exchanged glances. It seemed I knew more of this fellow than they had understood. "Could you have afforded that much, Lavinia?" I asked. "No, Master," she said. "I could not have afforded that much." "Position," I snapped. Instantly Lavinia rose from her belly to her knees, placing herself in a position common among Gorean pleasure slaves, kneeling back on heels, back straight, head up, palms down on thighs, knees spread. The male slave gasped, seeing how beautiful she was, and how she obeyed. Perhaps then he sensed something of the pleasures of the mastery, what it can be to own a woman. "Do you dare look at a female slave?" I asked him. "Forgive me, Master!" he said, lowering his head. Much had it doubtless cost him to avert his eyes from the beauty. "What of ten thousand pieces of gold?" asked the first retainer. "You have so much?" I asked. "I think we can raise it, forming a company to do so," he said. "I do not think you could raise it in Ar today," I said. "Perhaps a year ago, or two years ago." "We have in mind contacting men in several cities," he said, "even in Tyros and Cos." "So much money would pay the mercenaries of Cos for a year," I said. "Perhaps," he said. "I do not know." "Not even Talena, in a golden collar, would bring so much," I said. I looked down at the male slave. "You do not look well," I said. "I am sick, Master," he said. He had taken a splendid clubbing, to be sure. "Do you think that what has occurred here this morning is unaccountable?" I asked. "Master?" he asked. "That this is all a matter of chance, and unexpected?" I asked. "I do not understand, Master," he said. "It is not," I informed him. "You have been acquired as the result of a plan." He looked at me, startled. "You have been seduced," I said, "that you would be brought into circumstances of great compromise, circumstances the outcome of which would be to bring you to your present condition, as my slave." "Aii," he wept. "The female slave, of course," I said, "was acting under my orders." He looked at Lavinia. "Have you received permission to look at her?" I asked. Quickly he averted his eyes. "You may look at her," I informed him. He turned to Lavinia, stricken. "May I speak?" he begged. "Yes," I said. "Do you not care for me?" he asked the slave. "She has not received permission to speak," I informed him. Lavinia looked at me, pleadingly, her lower lip trembling. I would permit her to speak later. "She is pretty, isn't she?" I asked. "Yes, Master," he said, in misery. "She is a seduction slave," I said. Lavinia sobbed, and shook her head. A tear coursed down her cheek. "Are you not, Lavinia?" I asked. "Yes, Master," she sobbed. "You should not object to this," I informed the male slave. "You yourself, often enough, if I am not mistaken, have acted in the role of the seduction slave. Surely it is only fair that the tables have now been turned, and that it is you, so to speak, who now finds himself in the net." He could not take his eyes from Lavinia. "She acted under your orders?" he said. "Of course," I said. He moaned. "And is there not a rich joke here," I asked, "for, as I understand it, it was you who, as a seduction slave, were responsible for first bringing her pretty little neck into the collar. Is it not only fitting then that it be she, now a slave, whom I used for your acquisition?" "Yes, Master," he said. "Doubtless she finds her triumph rich and amusing," I said. "Please, Master, may I speak?" begged Lavinia. "No," I said. She sobbed. "You did your work well, pretty little seduction slave," I said to her. "Please, Master!" she begged. "No," I said. "I had hoped you cared for me," he said. She threw back her head in anguish. "I had hoped you cared for me," he said. "I had never forgotten you!" She looked wildly at him. "You seemed so tender, so real, so helpless!" he said. "Surely, as one who has had, as I understand it, experience on the stage," I said, "you can understand such things." "She was responsive!" he said. "She had better have been," I said. "Indeed, slave girls are trained to helpless responsiveness. They can juice, for example, in a matter of Ihn." "She responded!" he said. "She is a slave," I said. "She has strong and recurrent needs. Indeed, she is the prisoner, and victim, of such needs. Why should she not have utilized you to temporarily satisfy them?" "Please, Master," wept Lavinia. "No," I said. "Well did you trick me," he said to the girl. She regarded him with anguish. "I do not blame you," he said. "You must do as your master commands." I smiled to myself. I myself, despite my remarks to the male slave, had little doubt of the genuineness of Lavinia's words, her protestations, and such. The authenticity of a slave's words and responses, of course, are attested to by numerous bodily cues, many of which they are unaware of, and cannot control. A master who is alert to these can then determine, particularly over a period of time, whether or not the slave's words, feelings and responses are genuine or not. The alternatives m accorded to the Gorean slave girl are, in effect, to become an authentic slave, or die. Interestingly this understanding, particularly on the part of a woman who has been the victim of an antibiological conditioning program, as some Earth females, can he received as a liberating and joyful revelation, permitting them then in good conscience to yield at last, as they have long wished, to their femininity. Most women, of course, including most Earth females brought to Gor, as slaves, for that is the usual reason for which one is brought to Gor, do not need anything of this sort. Most are so joyful to find themselves on a natural world where their beauty, their dispositions and feelings are meaningful, that they can hardly wait to fulfill their depth nature, to be at last the women they are in their hearts, and bellies, and have always desired to be. "She is not hard to take," I said. "No, Master," he said. "And if you had to be seduced," I said, "surely you must not object to my using her for the purpose." "No, Master," he said. "Indeed," I said, "perhaps you commend my perception, and generosity." "Yes, Master," he said. "Now," I said, "you both belong to me." They looked wildly at one another. "And I expect, seduction slave," I said to the girl, "that he will be good for your discipline. If you are not pleasing, perhaps I will throw you to him." "Yes, Master!" she said. "Chain me, and throw me to him. Let me be his to do with as he pleases!" The male slave gasped, staggered with the thought of such power over the beauty. "But then, on the other hand," I said, "I do not know if I would permit dalliance among my slaves." He could not but drink in the beauty of Lavinia. "Look away from her," I commanded. With a moan he averted his eyes. "To be sure, I might upon occasion," I said, "let you look upon one another, each chained to an opposite wall, or perhaps I might even allow you each enough chain to approach, but not touch, one another. Too, of course, I might have you chained helplessly and then have her dance naked, in her own chains, before you, thence to be dismissed to her kennel." He put down his head, in misery. "No," I said to Lavinia, reading her anguished expression. She put her palms down, again, on her thighs. Tears were upon her cheeks and breasts. "You noted when you saw her this morning, of course," I said, "that she was not in seeming state garb." "Of course, Master," he said. "Nor in a collar, to be sure, one she could not remove, seemingly one of the state." "Yes, Master," he said. "Did this excite your curiosity?" I asked. "No, Master," he said. "As this was the morning of the putative assignation, I supposed it might be a disguise prescribed by her Mistress, that the curious, if they saw her in this neighborhood, would not be likely to link her with the Central Cylinder." "That was an intelligent conjecture on your part," I said. "And doubtless one on which Master counted," he said. "Yes," I said. "It did excite me," he said, "to see her not in the drab state garb, but in the tunic she wore, with the disrobing loop." "Did she drop the tunic well?" I asked. "Yes, Master," he said. "She is a superb seduction slave." Lavinia sobbed. The male slave looked up at me. "I am an actor," he said. "Master does not appear to be of the theater." "No," I said, "I am not of the theater." "I do not understand why master has brought these things about," he said, "why he has brought me into his possession. Of what possible use can I be to master?" "Perhaps I could sell you to the quarries, or into the fields," I said. "Perhaps I could take you to the Vosk, or the coast, and sell you to a captain. You might look well, chained to the bench of a galley." "I do not think it was for such purposes that master purchased me," he said. "You think you are valuable?" I asked. "Surely master thinks so," he said. "I heard master himself conjecture that there were free women in Ar who would pay a thousand pieces of gold for me." "And there are perhaps men," I said, "who would pay fifteen hundred." "Yes, Master," he said, putting his head down, and clenching his fists. Then he looked up. "But master did not sell me, nor offer me for sale," he said. "No," I said. "But surely I have been purchased on speculation," he said, "for resale?" "Do not concern yourself with the matter," I said. "Does master intend to keep me long in his possession?" he asked. "Do not concern yourself with the matter," I said. He looked at me. "Curiosity is not becoming in a kajirus," I said. "Yes, Master," he said. This was a play, of course, on the common Gorean saying that curiosity is not becoming in a female slave, or kajira. One of the traces of Earth influence on Gorean, incidentally, in this case, an influence from Latin, occurs in the singular and plural endings of certain expressions. For example, 'kajirus' is a common expression in Gorean for a male slave as is 'kajira' for a female slave. The plural for slaves considered together, both male and female, or for more than one male slave is 'kajiri'. The plural for female slaves is 'kajirae'. "Straighten your collar," I said to Lavinia. Instantly, embarrassed, self-consciously, she lifted her hands to her collar. Then she looked at me, for a moment puzzled. To be sure, it was almost perfect. Then, shyly, with seeming demureness, but with a slave girl's sense of self-display, she, her chin level, her back straight, her shoulders back, centered the lock, with both hands, delicately, carefully, at the back of the neck. This lifted her breasts, beautifully. "Are you looking at her?" I asked the male slave. "Forgive me, Master!" he said. "To be sure," I said, "it is hard not to look at her." "Yes, Master," he said, putting his head down. Lavinia, too, lowered her head, smiling. "As I mentioned earlier," I said, "you do not look well. This is doubtless because of having been well beaten. Indeed, from the marks, I suspect the staff of Appanius to have been cored with lead. I recommend you get up now and go to the alley. You may wish to heave there, once or twice. Then, return. In the back you will find water and a towel. Clean yourself. Then come back here and kneel again, as you are." "Yes, Master," he said, rising to his feet. "Curiosity is not becoming in a kajirus," I said. "Yes, Master," he said. This was a play, of course, on the common Gorean saying that curiosity is not becoming in a female slave, or kajira. One of the traces of Earth influence on Gorean, incidentally, in this case, an influence from Latin, occurs in the singular and plural endings of certain expressions. For example, 'kajirus' is a common expression in Gorean for a male slave as is 'kajira' for a female slave. The plural for slaves considered together, both male and female, or for more than one male slave is 'kajiri'. The plural for female slaves is 'kajirae'. "Are you looking at the female slave again?" I asked the male slave. "Forgive me, Master," he said. "Keep your head down," I said. "Yes, Master," he said. "I will explain to you in a moment what I wish you to do," I said. "Yes, Master," he said. "You may assist me with my wrap," she informed the handsome slave. "Your hand trembles," she smiled. "Must I remove my own wrap?" she inquired. "No, no, Mistress!" said the male slave. "'Mistress'?" she said. "It seems you have learned deference." "Yes, Mistress," he said. He knelt quickly, trembling, his head down. "It is not like you," she said. "Forgive me, Mistress," he said. "But I find it charming," she said. "And you look well, my dear Milo, on your knees." "Thank you, Mistress," he said. "But I do not understand this new deference," she said. "What but deference," said he, "could be in order, before one such as you?" "I think we shall get along very well," she said. He was silent, kneeling before her, bent at the waist. He kept his head down. He trembled. I did not really blame him. "It is as though, suddenly, it had been recalled to you, that you are a slave," she said. "Yes, Mistress," he said. I was pleased that his back had not been opened by the staff of Appanius. It would not have done, at all, if stripes of blood had appeared on the back of his tunic, soaked through. "Interesting," she said. "Before you," he said, "what man could not be a slave?" "Flatterer!" she chided. I smiled to myself. He had a nimble, flattering tongue. He was able in his work. Doubtless he had been of great value to Appanius, in many ways. Then I smiled grimly to myself. How susceptible was the chit to his blandishments. How little she understood of herself. Before what man, I wondered, could she not be a slave? Indeed, before what man, I wondered, should she not be a slave? Indeed, before any man, she, and other women, should be slaves. "My wrap!" she said, irritably. He leaped to his feet, and delicately, courteously, removed her outer cloak, with its hood. She had been well covered in it, from head to toe. He put this on a peg to one side. "Your guards are without?" he asked. "I have come alone," she said. "Surely you do not think me a fool?" "No," he said. She brushed back the light inner hood and unhooked the collar of her robe. "You will never believe the difficulty I had in escaping from the Central Cylinder!" she said. "It is almost as though I were a prisoner there. Seremides is so careful! His spies are everywhere. Who knows who they are, or which of them is watching you at any given time? Whom can I trust? It is hard to leave without an escort of a company of guardsmen. What do they fear, I wonder. The people love me." "You are too glorious and marvelous to risk," said Milo. "Alas," she said, "sometimes I myself grow weary of the preciousness and dignity of my person. It seems it has always been thus. Long ago when I was a girl it was the same, and then, in my time of troubles, after the misunderstanding with my dear father, Marlenus, I was sequestered, and then, later, now that the war has been concluded to the mutual benefit of Ar and Cos, with victory for us both, thanks to the mercies of Cos, and the noble Lurius of Jad, and we have become allies with our former enemies, now our dearest of friends, the Cosians, it seems the same again." "Mistress is Ubara," said he. "Simply order them to desist from their attentions." "Of course," she smiled. The handsome slave regarded her, puzzled. "But I eluded the guards," she said. "It was not really too difficult. They are men, and stupid." "How did Mistress outwit them?" asked the slave. "As you will note," she said, "I wore a common street cloak and hood, secured for the occasion. A departure was arranged for a putative maid, supposedly one of my retinue, on personal business, and it was as such a one that I was passed through the guards." "Mistress is to be praised for her discretion and cleverness," he said. "Who will remove the veil of a free woman?" she laughed. "Who, indeed?" inquired the slave, awed. "And few," she laughed, "are even aware of the features of the Ubara!" "True, wondrous Mistress," he said. She laughed. "How grateful and humbled I am," said he, "that I, only a slave, at three suppers, was permitted to look upon them." "You dared to look upon me?" she asked. "Forgive me, Mistress," he cried. "I had thought that perhaps it was for that reason that Mistress had lowered her veil." "It was warm, those evenings," she said. "Of course, Mistress!" he said. "But, to be sure," she said, "I did fear that looking upon me, you might fall under my spell." She then, gracefully, reached to the pins at the left side of the veil and unpinned it. A moment later she had lowered it, gracefully. "Aii!" said he, softly. "What man could not fall under the spell of such beauty?" "Think you so?" she laughed, delighted. "Yes!" he said. "Surely Mistress is the most beautiful woman on all Gor!" I glanced down at Lavinia. She was kneeling on the floor, to my left. I thought her lip trembled, and a tear formed in her eye. "I feel like a slave girl," said the free woman, "running about, sneaking here and there, to keep a rendezvous." Milo gasped. I conjecture he had just considered how exciting the female might be, if she were truly a slave, slave clad, slave collared, and such. The Ubara looked at herself, in the mirror at the far end of the room. "Sometimes I envy the meaningless property tarts," she said, "running about much as they please, here and there, in all their freedom, in their short skirts and collars. Sometimes I think that they have more freedom than I, that I, a free woman, indeed, one who is Ubara of Ar, am more slave than slave." "Do not even think so!" said Milo. "It is true," she said, dismally. The male slave was silent. The Ubara continued to regard herself in the mirror. I wondered how she saw herself, really, in that reflection. Did she see herself in the mirror as she now seemed, moody, and attired as befitted a woman of high caste, or did she see herself there otherwise, perhaps in a Ta Teera or tunic, as men might choose to keep her. "If I were a slave," she said, "and I were here, what do you think would be done with me?" "Mistress is not a slave!" cried Milo, aghast. "But, if I were?" she asked. "And you were caught?" he asked. "Of course," she said. "Mistress would be severely punished," he said. "Even though I am so beautiful?" she asked, skeptically. "Especially so!" said he. "Oh?" she said. "Yes, Mistress," he assured her. "Interesting," she said. "But Mistress is not a slave!" he said. "Lashed?" she asked. "The least that might be done to Mistress," he said, "would surely be that she would be stripped, and tied, and lashed. Too, she might be bound, and subjected to the bastinado." The free woman shuddered. "And I do not think that Mistress would err in such a fashion again," he said. "Perhaps not," she said. I glanced over at Tolnar, at the other observation portal. He looked over to me, and I returned my attention to the portal. The Ubara, moving very little, was still regarding herself in the mirror. She seemed moody. "Mistress?" asked the male slave. "You do find me attractive, do you not?" she asked. "Of course, Mistress!" he said. "And do you not think other men might do so likewise?" she asked. "Certainly, Mistress!" he said. "Some think me the most beautiful woman in all Ar," she said. "You are surely," said he, "the most beautiful woman on all Gor!" Near me Lavinia put down her head. A tear fell to the floor. "And I am Ubara!" said the free woman. "Yes, Mistress," said the slave. "A Ubara, too," she said, "is a woman, and I have a woman's needs." "Yes, Mistress," said the slave. The Ubara then, bit by bit, piece by piece, looking at herself from time to time in the mirror, the slave standing back, removed her outer garments. When she had stepped forth from her slippers, she stood before the mirror, barefoot, in a one-piece, white, silken, wraparound sliplike garment. It came slightly above her knees. She then unpinned the dark wealth of her hair, and shook her head, and then, with both hands, lifted it, and then swept it back, behind her shoulders. She regarded herself in the mirror. It was all I could do not to rush forth into the other room and seize her. About her neck, on a leather thong, there was a small, capped leather cylinder. I was confident I knew what it contained. Milo, on the other hand, would not. Milo had not had with him, I had determined, the note which had putatively come to him from the Ubara, that which had been written by Lavinia. I supposed he had destroyed it, as it might prove dangerously compromising. Neither the Ubara nor Milo, of course, knew of the notes which they themselves had supposedly written. All communications between them other than these had been effected by Lavinia, to the Ubara in the guise of a slave of the house of Appanius, to Milo in the guise of a state slave, with the exception of their rendezvous this morning. With Lavinia as go-between, under my instructions, matters had proceeded expeditiously, culminating apace, save for some delays on the part of the Ubara, presumably to increase the anxieties of, and torment, the poor slave, in the arrangements for this assignation. "I wonder if I am truly the most beautiful woman on all Gor," said the Ubara, looking into the mirror. "Certainly," said Milo. Near me Lavinia had her head down, and in her hands. "How could one doubt it?" asked Milo. Near me Lavinia wept, silently. Tears had trickled down her wrists, and to the floor. I noted that her knees were in proper position, spread, given the sort of slave she was. "And you, Milo," said the Ubara, "are a handsome brute." "I am pleased if Mistress should find me not displeasing," he said. "And surely," she said, "you are the most handsome man in all Ar." "Mistress," he said, softly, coming close to her. "Serve me wine!" she snapped. "Mistress?" he asked. "Is that not wine, and assorted dainties," she asked, "on the table by the couch, that which I see behind me, in the mirror?" "Yes, Mistress," he said. "And certainly female slaves humbly and beautifully serve their masters in such a way," she said. "Yes, Mistress," he said. "Must a command be repeated?" she inquired. "I am a male slave," he said. "I am not a female slave." "Surely you are aware that male silk slaves are trained in such things as the serving of wine to their mistresses," she said. "I am not a silk slave," he said. "I see that a command must be repeated," she said. "No, Mistress!" he said. He hurried to the small table and put a tiny bit of wine into one of the small glasses. He then returned, and knelt before her. He then, holding the tiny glass in both hands, his head down between his extended arms, proffered her the beverage. But she did not receive it as yet at his hands. "Look up," she said. He did so. She fingered the small, capped cylinder at her neck. "Surely you know what is contained in this capsule," she said. He did not respond. She uncapped it, and moved the tiny rolled paper a hort from the capsule, that he might see it. Then she thrust it back in, triumphantly, and recapped the cylinder. "You are a better actor than I gave you credit for," she said. He had remained impassive. "You will obey me in all things, and not merely because you are a slave," she said, "but because of this." She tapped the tiny cylinder twice. "I now hold all power over you, my dear Milo, even though I do not own you. It is given to me by this note. Should it come to the attention of Seremides, or Myron, or the high council, or an archon of slaves, or perhaps even a guardsman, you may well conjecture what might be your fate." He looked up at her. "How foolish you were, to write such a note," she laughed. "But then you are a man, and men are stupid." He put down his head, and, again, lifted the wine to her. He would not recognize the note, of course, but he would immediately realize it must have had some role in my business, in which he was now so deeply involved. Too, almost simultaneously, he would doubtless suspect that the note which he himself had originally received might very well not have come from the Ubara herself. Surely it would now seem to him unlikely that she, so obviously aware of the danger of such notes, would have sent one herself. Surely it would have been at the least politically compromising, if it fell into the wrong hands. He did not glance toward the back room. I myself, incidentally, did not think it impossible that the Ubara herself, in certain circumstances, might be so indiscrete as to write such notes. She was, after all, a woman with feelings, desires and needs. She was quite capable, I was sure, in their cause, of throwing caution to the winds. On the other hand, in this case there had been no need for her to do so. She let him hold the wine for a time, and then, reaching out, she took the glass. He kept his head down, and put his hands, palms down, on his thighs. She lifted the glass to her lips. She took no more, it seemed, than the tiniest of sips. "Replace the glass," she said. "Then return and kneel as you are now." She was standing before the couch. She watched him, in the mirror, replace the glass on the tiny table. In a moment then he had returned to kneel before her. "You are the idol of thousands of women in Ar," she said, "but it is my beauty which has conquered you." He was silent. Lavinia looked up at me, red-eyed. "It is my beauty to which you have succumbed," she said. He was silent. "It is I before whom you kneel," said the Ubara. He did not respond. "You look well there," she said, "on your knees, before me." He was silent. "That is where men belong," she said, "on their knees, before women." He kept his head down, and did not respond. "You may look up," she said. She turned about then and went to the couch. She stood there for a moment, beside it, regarding him. Then, with a graceful movement, she removed the white, silken, sliplike garment, letting it fall about her ankles. "Ai!" said the male slave, softly. She then, swiftly, with a smooth, silken movement, ascended the couch and lay curled upon it, near its foot, watching him. "Mistress!" he said. "Do not dare to rise to your feet without permission, slave," she said. "Yes, Mistress," he said. She laughed, softly. He looked away. "Do you have the needs of a male?" she asked. "Yes!" he said. "Sometimes female slaves," she said, "after their slave fires have been ignited, after the poor things have begun to learn their collar, after they have become sexually helpless, are deprived of sexual experience," she said. "Did you know that?" "I have heard so," he said. "Perhaps as a cruelty, to teach them the master's power or that they are slaves, or as a punishment, or to ready them for a successful performance on the block, such things." "Are such things done with male slaves?" she asked. "Perhaps," he said. She laughed. He did not look at her. "Look at me," she commanded. "At least upon occasion," he said. She laughed again, merrily. This was true, incidentally. Tauntings, it might be mentioned, are usually involved in such denials. On the other hand, male slaves have much the better of it, in my opinion, in these matters. Sexual gratification is seldom denied to them for long periods. They, like male sleen, tend to become not only restless and aggressive, but dangerous. Accordingly, it is common to see that they are permitted to periodically access a female, almost invariably a slave. No such provision, on the other hand, is prescribed for the female slave. She, as her needfulness increases within her, as she becomes more lonely and miserable, more desperate, is left much on her own, to wheedle and beg, and such. To be sure, most female slaves enjoy an enormous amount of sexual experience. This is largely because they are beautiful and exciting, and slaves. "You may rise, handsome slave," said she, amused. "Yes, Mistress," he said. "But stay where you are," she added. "Yes, Mistress," he said. She lay on her side, watching him. "You are indeed a handsome brute," she said. "Thank you, Mistress," he said. She then lay on her back, toward the foot of the couch, and stretched, luxuriantly, indolently, before him, savoring the feeling of the fur, the delight of her own movement. She looked upward, lazily. She did not detect the net, of course, as she was not looking for it, and it was recessed in the structure of the ceiling, the ceiling having been designed for its concealment. She had the palms of her hands facing upward, at her sides. Her left knee was lifted. I thought she would look well in a collar. She moaned, softly. She turned her head to the side, toward him. "Sometimes I feel," she said, "as I think a slave must feel." The net, concealed, was above her. He made as though to step toward her. "Do not approach!" she warned him. He stood still. She laughed, and rose, facing him, to her hands and knees, on the couch. She then backed away from him, toward the center of the couch. In this way, unwittingly, she positioned herself under the center of the net. To be sure, it had been designed to cover the entire couch. "You may approach," she said. "No nearer!" she said. He then stood near the foot of the couch. "It seems, Mistress, has come to this room to torture a poor slave," he said. She then slipped to her left side, propping herself up with her left elbow, and, her knees drawn up, regarded him. "Poor Milo," she said, sympathetically. He was silent. "There are slave rings on the couch," she said. "Perhaps I shall chain you to one of them." "As Mistress pleases," he said. "What woman of Ar would not desire you as her conquest," she mused. He was silent. "And you are mine," she said. "Conquered by my beauty." He was silent. "You have told me," she said, "that you have the needs of a male." "Yes, Mistress," he said. "Is it true?" she asked. "Yes, Mistress," he said. "I am Ubara," she said. "Yes, Mistress," he said. "But I am also a female," she said, "and I have a female's needs." "Mistress?" he asked. "Yes, Milo," she said. "It is true." He looked down. "Happily, of course, they are not those of a female slave," she said. "That, fortunately, has never been done to me." "Yes, Mistress," he said. In her last words her voice had almost broken. In them was betrayed a seething half-suspected emotional sea. In the Ubara, it seemed, might be latent depths on the shores of which she stood frightened, and in awe. In her, it seemed, might be revelations, discoveries, and enforcements that in her state of inert freedom could scarcely be conjectured. And well might she have feared such things. How helpless she might be, if she found herself in their chains. The slave girl is the helpless prisoner of her sexuality. "Surely you understand the purport of my words," she said, angrily. "Surely I dare not explicitly conjecture," he said. "Why do you think I have come here?" she asked. "To torture a poor slave, it seems," he said. "That I could do in the Central Cylinder," she said. "What more could there be?" he asked. "Can you not guess?" she said. "Mistress is free, and Ubara," he said. "Look upon me," she commanded. "What do you see?" she asked. "The Ubara of Ar," he said. "And a female?" "Yes, Mistress," he said. "You are a man," she said. "When you arranged this meeting, surely you must have had hopes." He put down his head. "And you, shameful, arrogant slave, have presumed far above your station. I should have you boiled in oil!" He kept his head down. "But I am prepared to be merciful," she said. "Mistress?" he asked, looking up. "I am prepared to extend to you the extraordinary and inestimable privilege," she said, "of entering upon the same couch with me." He looked at her. "Yes," she said. "I am unworthy!" he said. "Are the sluts, thrown by the hair to their masters' couches any the more worthy?" she asked. "No, Mistress," he said. "Do not concern yourself then with such matters," she said. "But so much honor!" he said. "Do not consider it," she said. "But I am only a slave," he said. "That is known to me," she said. "I have a master!" he said. "Of course," she said. "And mistress does this of her own free will?" he said. "Yes," she said. He was silent. She gestured to the furs beside her. "I invite you to share my couch," she said. He hesitated. "I am lying here before you," she said, "'slave naked', as you vulgar men might say. Do you dally, handsome Milo?" "Mistress invites me to share her couch?" he asked. "Yes," she said. "Mistress is then preparing to couch with me?" "I am not only preparing to couch with you," she said. "I am prepared to couch with you." She then knelt on the couch, and back on her heels. I glanced to Tolnar, the magistrate. He nodded. "You may approach me," she said. She extended her arms, opened to him, as she knelt. "Come, handsome slave," said she. "Come, couch with me!" I threw the lever, releasing the net. It fell over her beautifully. She screamed in surprise and fear, as its toils dropped about her. She tried to spring to her feet on the couch, clawing at it, but fell. Milo, doubtless practiced in the matter, expertly brought it together and whipped it about her and, in an instant, on her belly on the couch, she was helpless in its folds. Almost instantly, too, Marcus entered the front room, followed by Tolnar and Venlisius. I had remained for a moment or two at the observation portal. Then I, too, followed by Lavinia, entered the room. Although she may have been aware of my movement, that of another man entering the room, she did not, in her consternation, and in her attention to Marcus and the magistrates, before her, really look upon me, or recognize me. I was then in back of her, with the bracelets and linked shackles. Milo, his work done, stood now to one side. "What is the meaning of this!" she cried, on her belly, turning her head to the right, lifting it from the furs, squirming in the toils of the net. I, behind her, gathered the net more closely about her, jerking her legs more closely together, wrapping the net more closely about them. A naked woman, on furs, netted, helpless, is quite lovely. "Sleen! Sleen!" she wept. She lifted her head, as she could, from the furs, looking at the magistrates who, in their robes, with their fillets, with their wands of office, regarded her. "Sleen!" she screamed at them. They did not strike her. She did not seem to realize that she had now become a slave. "Release me!" she demanded. "Release me!" "What was your name?" inquired Tolnar. "We shall wish it for the records." "I am Talena!" she cried. "I am Talena, Ubara of Ar! Down on your knees before me! I am Talena, Talena! Ubara of Ar! I am your Ubara!" "You may, of course, attempt to conceal your former identity," said Tolnar. "At this point it is immaterial." "I am Talena!" she cried. "Perhaps you might think to delude a poor slave," said Tolnar, "but we are free men." "Fools!" she wept. "What was your name?" he asked. "My name is Talena!" she said. "I am Ubara of Ar!" "You would have us believe that Talena of Ar is a sensuous tart in need of sexual relief, a mere chit who would condescend to keep a rendezvous so shameful as this?" "I am Talena!" she cried, squirming in the net. "Release me! I shall scream!" "That would be interesting, if you are Talena," said Tolnar. "You would then choose to publicize, it seems, your whereabouts. You would choose to be discovered naked and netted, before magistrates, in a room in the Metellan district, having been prepared to couch with a slave?" he threw her head down, angrily, on the furs. "I am Talena," she said. "Release me!" "What is more pertinent to our purposes," said Tolnar, "is your legal status, or, in this case, it seems, your former legal status." "Release me, fools!" she said. "What was your legal status before you entered this room?" asked Tolnar. "I was, and am, a free woman!" she said. "Of Ar?" he asked. "Yes!" she cried, angrily. "That is the crux of the matter," said Tolnar. He glanced to Venlisius, who nodded. "Do you doubt that I am Talena?" she demanded of Tolnar. "Surely you must permit me to be skeptical," he smiled. "I am she!" she cried. Then she looked wildly at Milo. "You know me!" she wept. "You can attest to my identity! You have seen me in the Central Cylinder! So, too, has that slut of a slave!" "Stand," said Tolnar to Lavinia, who immediately complied. "Please, Milo," begged the netted beauty, helplessly, pathetically, agonizingly, "do not lie! Tell the truth!" He looked at her. "Please, Milo!" she begged. "Tell them who I am!" How much she felt then dependent upon him, how much in his power! How different this was from her former mastery of him! How terrified she was that he might, for one reason or another, lie to the magistrates, putting her then before them as no more than a common, captured, compromised female. "Who was she?" asked Tolnar of Milo. "Talena, Ubara of Ar," said Milo. "Ah!" she wept in relief. Tolnar and Venlisius exchanged glances. They did not much relish this development. "Release me, you sleen!" wept Talena, struggling futilely in the net. "And you?" asked Tolnar of Lavinia, who was looking on the netted captive, indeed, a prisoner of the same cords which, months before, had held her with such similar perfection. "Master?" asked Lavinia. "Who was she?" said Tolnar. "That, too, is my understanding," said Lavinia. "Talena, of Ar." "Release me!" demanded the captive. "What difference does it make," asked Marcus, "if, indeed, she is Talena of Ar?" "Fool!" laughed the netted captive. "From the legal point of view," said Tolnar, "it makes no difference, of course." "Release me!" she said. "Do you think I am a common person? Do you think you can treat one of my importance in this fashion! I shall have Seremides have you boiled in oil!" "I am of the second Octavii," said Tolnar. "My colleague is of the Toratti." "Then you may be scourged and beheaded, or impaled!" she wept. "You would have us neglect our duty?" inquired Tolnar. He was Gorean, of course. "In this case," she snapped, "you are well advised to do so." "That is quite possibly true," said Tolnar. "The principle here, I gather," said Marcus, "is that the Ubara is above the law." "The law in question is a serious one," said Tolnar. "It was promulgated by Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars." "Surely," said Venlisius to the netted woman, "you do not put yourself on a level with the great Marlenus." "It does not matter who is greater," she said. "I am Ubara!" "The Ubara is above the law?" asked Marcus, who had an interest in such things. "In a sense, yes," said Tolnar, "the sense in which she can change the law by decree." "But she is subject to the law unless she chooses to change it?" asked Marcus. Precisely," said Tolnar. "And that is the point here." "Whatever law it is," cried the netted woman, "I change it! I herewith change it!" "How can you change it?" asked Tolnar. "I am Ubara!" she said. "You were Ubara," he said. She cried out in misery, in frustration, in the net. "Interesting," said Marcus. "Release me!" demanded the woman. "Do you think we are fond of she who was once Talena," asked Tolnar, "of she who betrayed Ar, and collaborated with her enemies?" "Release me, if you value your lives!" she cried. "Seremides will wish me free! So, too, will Myron! So, too, will Lurius of Jad!" "But we have taken an oath to uphold the laws of Ar," said Tolnar. "Free me!" she said. "You would have us compromise our honor?" asked Tolnar. "I order you to do so," she said. Tolnar smiled. "Why do you smile?" she asked. "How can a slave order a free person to do anything?" he asked. "A slave!" she cried. "How dare you!" "You are taken into bondage," said Tolnar, "under the couching laws of Marlenus of Ar. Any free woman who couches with, or prepares to couch with, a male slave, becomes herself a slave, and the property of the male slave's master." "I, property!" she cried. "Yes," said Tolnar. Absurd!" she said. "Not at all," he said. "It is, I assure you, all quite legal." "Proceed then with your farce!" she cried. "I know Appanius well, and his position in this city is much dependent upon my support! Have I not freed him of numerous burdens? Have I not adjusted his taxes? Have I not spared his house, and those of other favorites, the exactions of the levies?" "You acknowledge, then," asked Tolnar, "that you are a slave?" "Yes," she said, angrily, "I am a slave! Now, summon Appanius, immediately, that I may be promptly freed! Then you will see to what fates I shall consign you!" "But what if Appanius wishes you as a slave?" asked Marcus. She laughed. "I see you do not know our dear Appanius," she said. "The most he would want from a woman would be to have her do his cleaning and scrub his floors!" "But what if that is precisely what he has in mind for you?" asked Tolnar. She turned white. "Doubtless she would look well, performing lowly labors in chains," said Marcus. "Perhaps, unknown to you," said Tolnar, "Appanius is a patriot." "Never!" she said. "Bring him here!" "What if he would keep you in his house as a slave?" asked Marcus. "Perhaps you think you could make your former identity known," said Tolnar. "That might be amusing." "'Amusing'?" she asked. "Who would believe that once you had been Talena, the Ubara of Ar?" asked Tolnar. "More likely," said Venlisius, "you would be whipped, as a mad slave." "While," said Tolnar, "another woman, suitably coached, and veiled, would take your place in the Central Cylinder. From the point of view of the public, things would be much the same." "Bring Appanius here!" she cried. "I know him. I can speak with him. I can make him see, I assure you, what is to his advantage! This is all some preposterous mistake. Free me! This is all some terrible misunderstanding! Bring Appanius here! I demand it!" "But what has Appanius to do with this?" asked Tolnar. "I do not understand," said the woman. Tolnar regarded her. "He has everything to do with it," she said. "He is Milo's master!" "No," said Tolnar. The prisoner turned her head about, not easily, in the net. "Appanius is your master!" she said to Milo. "No," he said. Almost all slaves on Gor are female. There are, of course, male slaves, but most are laborers, working in the fields, in quarries, in mines, on roads, and such, in chains and under whips. Some women keep male silk slaves, but they are rare. The Gorean view is that slavery is appropriate for the female, and not for the male. "We have some new male slaves in Pen 2 of the Bata Section," said another to her, he whose whip I had first kissed. "Oh?" she said, archly. "I do not know if you would be interested," he said. "They are male silk slaves, pleasantly featured, symmetrically proportioned charming fellows, gentle, sensitive, unthreatening. They are well trained to be a woman's slave." "Ah!" she said, as though interested. I did not move a muscle. I knelt almost rigidly, my knees spread. I had not dared to meet her eyes. It can be deemed presumptuous for a slave to directly meet the eyes of a free person, unless the permission is clear. Suddenly she had forgotten about me! "They are the sort," he said, "with whom a lady might chat of her day, her doings and thoughts, with whom she might exchange gossip, and gratefully share delicate confidences. They are well trained to be a woman's slave. They would look well in their silk at your slave ring. You could be proud of them as they hurry about your errands, keep your quarters and serve your friends." "They are not masculine, are they?" she inquired. "I find masculinity so offensive and vulgar," she said. The liar, the liar, I thought. Even within her garments I sensed her naked body palpitating in his presence! What possible interest could she be to such a man, other than perhaps to be seized, stripped and caged, for an eventual sale? "You need have no fear," he said. "They have been selected for their nature, which is that to be a woman's slave." "Do you like the choke collar?" he asked. I whimpered twice. "They are commonly used for dangerous male slaves," he said, "sometimes for new girls, sometimes for arrogant free women, that they may immediately cease to be arrogant, sometimes for ignorant girls, sometimes for stupid girls. Sometimes women use them for controlling other women, for they have less strength." In my training, in the pens, I had occasionally been put in a choke collar. In it, I assure you that I obeyed instantly, obedient to its slightest pressure. On the other hand, such things, I think, should seldom, if ever, be used with slaves, particularly with female slaves, who tend to be beautiful, delicate and sensitive. Their use, I think, if they are used at all, should be reserved for fierce animals, such as the six-legged beasts I had seen, or perhaps for powerful warriors, or brawny, recalcitrant male slaves in the quarries or mines, captives or animals whose control may require such fierce devices. I do not here, incidentally, discuss the nature of slave traps, as they constitute a different object of discourse. Some of these are rather benign devices, with no object more in mind than to discommode a free woman until the hunters arrive and collect her. Others, with coiled wire, with springs and steel teeth, generally designed for the capture of escaped male slaves can be quite cruel. In our practices we were sometimes blindfolded. I presume there were several reasons for that, for example, that we might learn how to concentrate on the tactual sensations involved, that we might be able to kiss well in the dark and, when we are using male slaves to practice on, that we should not become involved with them personally. When one kisses a man as a slave it is hard not to feel oneself as slave to him. I do not think the male slaves objected to being used in our training. Some who began by crying out in rage, perhaps new slaves, ended up moaning with pleasure. They, too, were generally blindfolded, except when we must kiss them upon their closed eyes. Later, as our skills improved, the guards permitted us, sans blindfolds, to practice upon them. And they were harsh taskmasters, I tell you! Diligently must we strive to please them! But we preferred their severities to the helplessness of the slaves for we knew that they were such as to whom we belonged, free men. "Let him, helpless in his chains, be mocked and taunted," he said, fiercely, "as might be a helpless male slave by an insolent slave girl." Slave girls often have the run of the city. On the other hand, male slaves seldom do, for obvious reasons. An exception is the male silk slave, usually the male pleasure slave of a rich woman, but sometimes one belonging to a female entrepreneur, in whose brothel, one specializing in the tastes of women, he serves. "Perhaps you do not understand," he said. "Your features are to be publicly exposed, such that anyone, the least of the workers at the docks, even a male slave, may look freely, and as he pleases, upon them." "You have female slavery on Gor?" said the woman. "And male slavery," said her companion, lifting his wine glass to her, as though toasting her. "At least you are consistent!" she laughed. "Male slaves," said Mirus, "are less in evidence. It is not unusual for them to be kept chained, and put to heavy labors, in the fields, the quarries, the galleys, such places." She wondered if the bearers were male slaves, or merely servants. She supposed they might be servants. They had not been collared, or guarded. Perhaps the woman, wisely, had not chosen to surround herself with male slaves. What if they should, in the rush of their blood, heat and need, turn upon her? How she might be used then, over and over, perhaps on her belly, robes torn away, on the pillows of her then-unborne palanquin! She trembled. She had heard that slaves such as she, low slaves, were sometimes cast to male slaves in the pens, much as one might cast them food. This practice was supposedly useful in reducing restlessness in the pens. As I have mentioned, there were streets in the vicinity of the laundry pools and these streets, as was to be expected, had their share of various forms of traffic, carts, pedestrians, and such. She had even seen, once this morning, the palanquin of a free woman, being borne by male slaves. Though it was late some individuals were abroad, some in palanquins, either men or women, borne by male slaves, some with guards, perhaps returning at this hour from late visits, some strolling alone, meditatively, in the late evening, some walking leashed slaves. "Male slaves, to the left," whispered the girl before Ellen. Some seven or so males were kneeling in a small space, stripped, covered with dirt, heads down, to the left. They were chained, hand and foot, and fastened together by the neck, by an additional chain. They appeared haggard, exhausted. They were perhaps half-starved, in order to induce distraction, confusion, failure of will, and weakness. Their bodies were bruised, as though by the blows of clubs or spear hafts, and bore in lines of caked blood the marks of the lash, where the whip, perhaps the snake, had been put to them. The snake is never used on women, for they might soon die under its blows. Whereas Gorean masters are strict with their kajirae, some inordinately so, they never forget that they are females, only females. "I do not think they are slaves yet," whispered the girl behind Ellen. "I think they are prisoners, war captives." "They will soon be slaves," said the first girl, haughtily. "Yes," said the second, "and doubtless on the galleys, or in the quarries of Tyros." Ellen, frightened, shuddered, considering the uses to which trained sleen might be put, such as tracking, hunting, herding, guarding, killing. She knew they were sometimes sent after runaway slaves, usually with the kill command after an escaped male slave, commonly with the herding command for a female runaway, that she may be returned, stumbling, gasping, exhausted, helpless and driven, bleeding, scratched, lacerated, back to the feet of her master, where she might clutch his ankles and beg weepingly that she not be now fed to those tyrannical, inexorable beasts who have ushered her so swiftly and unerringly back to her fate, the mercies of her master. The Releaser, however, is not only palatable, but aromatic and delicious. When it is given to the girl she may, to her dismay and misery, and perhaps shrieking for mercy, expect to be soon sent to the breeding sheds, to be chained and hooded, and crossed with a male slave, who is similarly hooded. "I am immortal?" she said. "Not at all," he said. "You are human, very human. You are extremely mortal. It is only that you are now, assuming the serums hold, immune to the ravages of age." "'If'?" she said. "They do not always hold," he said, "but, commonly, they do." "I can understand," she said, "why free persons might avail themselves of such achievements, but why would they be bestowed on slaves?" "Clearly," he said, "to keep up their value, in the case of a male slave, his strength, in the case of a female slave, her beauty." I gather," she said, "that female slavery exists on this world?" "That is true," I said, "and male slavery, as well." "But most slaves are female, are they not?" "Yes," I said. "Slavery is a misfortune for the male, for the male, or most males, are naturally free, and master, but bondage is apt for the female." To be sure, there are some slave farms which, after a few years, produce their annual crop, so to speak. On the other hand, these enterprises usually require a large initial investment, say, large physical facilities, and hundreds of breeding slaves, male and female, to be carefully matched and crossed, and it normally takes years for the first crop to be readied for market. These were deep pits outside the city, used for the disposal of filth, of garbage, and such. Occasionally a new one was dug, and an old one covered over. Occasionally one was opened, even generations after its closure, that it might be reused, and the lingering stench might still overcome even a strong man. Usually these pits were tended by male slaves, with shovels, with the lower parts of their faces wrapped in scarves. A slave, of course, as any domestic animal, is to be bred only if and when, and how, the master wishes. A releaser, interestingly, deliciously palatable, is administered to the slave prior to her mating. In the mating, which is supervised by masters, she will be crossed with a male slave. Both slaves will be hooded, and are forbidden to speak, that neither will later, should they meet, know the other. The former Ubara had been embonded in accord with the couching law of Marlenus of Ar, any free woman who couches with, or prepares to couch with, a male slave, becomes herself a slave, and the property of the male slave's master. As at Tarncamp, we had no free women with us, and no male slaves. "It is a way of increasing one's stock of slaves," I said. "To be sure, there would be a fee for the use of the male slave." "I could be bred?" she said. "Of course," I said, "you are slave stock." This sort of thing, on the whole, however, is usually done by fellows who have many female slaves and do not know them, often the proprietors of large farms. The slaves, then, are bred with the same attention to lines, and properties, as other domestic animals, tarsk, verr, hurt, kaiila, tharlarion, and such. This sort of thing is independent of the sort of thing practiced on the great slave farms. Some bred slaves have pedigrees going back several generations. "Master, Master," she wept, "do not breed me. Keep me for yourself!" "He will do as he wishes, slave," I informed her. Usually, in slave breeding, both the male and female slave are chained in a breeding stall, and hooded, that neither may know the other. The breeding takes place under the supervision of masters, or their agents, and the slaves, of course, are forbidden to speak to one another. If the breeding is successful, the mother is hooded during labor, and never sees the child, which is taken from her, to be tended, and cared for, elsewhere. I did not know the meaning of the words 'La kajira', but it was not difficult, under the circumstances, to speculate on their nature. They would be incidentally, the first words I would learn in my new language, Gorean, the language of my masters. Both 'Lo kajirus' and 'La kajira' may be translated "I am a slave." 'Lo kajirus' is masculine; 'La kajira' is feminine. Accordingly, the first would be understood as "I am a male slave," and the second as "I am a female slave." Sometimes a free woman, from a conquered, hated city, is cast naked into a cage or pen of male slaves. Later, when the slaves are whipped back, and she is drawn forth, shaken and shuddering, she is fit for the collar. "Clearly, on this world," I said, "female slavery exists." "And male slavery," he said, "but male slavery is less obvious, as most male slaves are utilized in the quarries, on the galleys, on the great farms, in such places. Occasionally a male is taken from your former world, a typical male of your former world, suitably conditioned, and thus reduced and tamed, to be sold as a silk slave to a Gorean mistress. Such can be perilous though, for they sometimes, on this world, learn their manhood, and may thus constitute a danger to the mistress, who might find herself gagged and put in a slave sack, to be sold, or even, collared, to find herself at the feet of her former slave. Accordingly most slaves brought to Gor are women, namely, members of the slave sex." My body ached. "Why are not men, male slaves, or beasts, bosk or tharlarion, used to turn the mill?" I had asked one of my chain sisters. "Male slaves are dangerous," she said. "Few are permitted within a city's walls, save for male silk slaves, the pets of free women, and they make poor draft beasts, and we are cheaper than bosk and tharlarion." There are many variations, incidentally, in slave harnessing. I think I may have mentioned that slaves often draw small carts, for their masters, commonly peddlers, and that some free women utilize female slaves to draw their carriages. Too female slaves are sometimes harnessed to, or chained to, poles, by means of which they carry their mistress's palanquin. Similarly, male slaves are occasionally used as draft beasts for purposes of heavier haulage. He was a handsome fellow, in his tunic and collar, bronzed, with fine thighs, and strong arms. He was dark-haired and brown-eyed. It was a bright day, and the street was public. I did not think he would take me by the arm and force me into a doorway, or alley. How like a gentleman he seemed! How gentle, and concerned, he was. How different from a master! Was he not like a man of Earth? Too, it could be dangerous for him to do so, to handle or seize me, or force me to his pleasure, for we belong to the free. Trysts between slaves are clandestine, and fraught with peril. We may be bred, of course, but such crossings are wholly at the discretion of the masters. Such fine handsome slaves, of course, are not unoften noticed by free women, who may even buy them. On the other hand, in the law of Ar, and several other cities, the free woman who pleasures herself with a male slave risks her own enslavement, and becoming the property of the slave's master. I, now no longer blindfolded, had recognized the red-robed fellow instantly upon entering the serving chamber. But now he was not disguised, not collared, not clad in a humble tunic, that of a kajirus, a male slave. He was now garlanded, and clothed in the robes of a free person, and apparently one of high station. "A male slave may not touch a female slave without permission." I said. I had no particular interest in him. Indeed, in a way, I had a matter to settle with him, as he had once made a fool of me, when he had donned the disguise of a male slave, and tricked me into revealing the domicile of my master. Whereas the desiderated attributes of the male slave are stamina, endurance, strength, and such, and male slaves may be driven hard and long, and treated mercilessly, the most obvious desiderated attributes of the female slave are such things as beauty grace, softness, and femininity. One does not want to bring female slaves to the market exhausted, spent, half-crippled, and burned. The male slave, putting aside the male silk slave, is essentially a work animal. The female slave, though she may be well worked by her master, is essentially a pleasure animal. Accordingly, the marches endured by coffled female slaves are quite different from those commonly enforced on male slaves, for example, in such things as the length of the march, the time marched in a day, the pace of the march, the frequency of waterings and rest periods, and so on. Women are not men. This is something well understood by Gorean slavers, and by Gorean men in general. This is not to deny that coffled women, proportional to their stamina, size, and strength, may not be as weary, worn, driven, and miserable as coffled men. But commonly, after two or three days of rest, water, and food, they are ready for the sales block.
Men in the fields wore short tunics of white wool; some carried hoes; their hair was close cropped; about their throats had been hammered bands of black iron, with a welded ring attached. They did not leave the fields; such a departure, without permission, might mean their death; they were thralls. I saw people running down the sloping green land, toward the water. Several came from within the palisade. Among them, white kirtled collared, excited, ran bond-maids. These, upon the arrival of their master, are permitted to greet him. The men of the north enjoy the bright eyes, the leaping bodies, the squealing, the greetings of their bond-maids. In the fields I saw an overseer, clad in scarlet, with a gesture of his hand, releasing the thralls. Then, they, too, ran down toward the water. "Who is this?" asked another man, indicating me. "I see his hair has not been cropped, and he does not wear the chains of a thrall." A few feet away, glowing with heat, stood two canister braziers. In these, among the white coals, were irons. Air, by means of a small bellows, pumped by a thrall boy, in white wool, collared, hair cropped, was forced through a tube in the bottom of each. The air above the canisters shook with heat. I saw the young, broad-shouldered thrall, who had been standing to one side, go to the slender blond girl. "Sometimes," said he, "to discipline a bond-maid, she is hurled naked among the thralls." He smiled. "Do not fear. Should this be done to you I, in my turn, shall use you well Bond-maid. Quite well." The Kurii not unoften fed on men, and men, of course, in consequence, attempted to hunt and slay, when they could, the beasts. Usually, however, because of the power and ferocity of the beasts, men would hunt them only to the borders of their own districts, particularly if only the loss of a bosk or thrall was involved. It was usually regarded as quite sufficient, even by the men of Torvaldsland, to drive one of the beasts out of their own district. I had no wish to be thrown bound beneath the hoes of thralls because I had inadvertently insulted a free man-at-arms or breached a custom, perhaps as simple as using the butter before someone who sat closer to the high-seat pillars than myself. Male thralls are chained for the night in the bosk sheds. Bondmaids are kept in the hall, for the pleasure of the free men. "Do you wish to go to the whipping post?" he asked. This is a stout post, outside the hall, of peeled wood, with an iron ring near the top, to which the wrists of a bond-maid, crossed, are lashed over her head. Near the bosk shed there is a similar post, with a higher ring, used for thralls. On the way back to the hall, cutting through the tospit trees, we had passed by the sul patch. In it, his back to us, hoeing, was the young broad-shouldered thrall, in his white tunic, with cropped hair. He did not see us. Approaching him, her kirtle held high in two hands, it filled with verr dung, was blond, collared Thyri. Then, with the brazenness of a bond-maid, she, Thyri, who had been the fine young lady of Kassau, threw her kirtle up over her hips and, leaning forward, spit furiously at the thrall. He leaped toward her but Ottar was even quicker. He struck Wulfstan, the thrall, Tarsk, behind the back of his neck with the handle of his ax. Wulfstan fell stunned. In an instant Ottar had bound the young man's hands before his body. He then jerked him to his knees by the iron collar. "You have seen what your ax can do to posts," said he to me, "now let us see what it can do to the body of a man." He then threw the young thrall to his feet, holding him by the collar, his back to me. The spine, of course, would be immediately severed; moreover, part of the ax will, if the blow be powerful, emerge from the abdomen. It takes, however, more than one blow to cut a body, that of a man, in two. To strike more than twice, however, is regarded as clumsiness. The young man stood, numbly, caught. Thyri, her kirtle down, shrank back, her hand before her mouth. "You have seen," said Ottar, to the Forkbeard, "that he has been bold with a bond-maid, the property of free men." "Thralls and bond-maids, sometimes," said I, "banter." "He would have put his hands upon her," said Ottar. That seemed true, and was surely more serious. Bond-maids were, after all, the property of free men. It was not permitted for a thrall to touch them. "Would you have touched her?" asked the Forkbeard. "Yes, my Jarl," whispered the young man. "You see!" cried Ottar. "Let Red Hair strike!" I smiled. "Let him be whipped instead," I said. "No!" cried Ottar. "Let it be as Red Hair suggests," said the Forkbeard. He then looked at the thrall. "Run to the whipping post," he said. "Beg the first free man who passes to beat you." "Yes, my Jarl," he said. He would be stripped and bound, wrists over his head, to the post at the bosk shed. "Fifty strokes," said the Forkbeard. "Yes, my Jarl," said the young man. "The lash," said the Forkbeard, "will be the snake." His punishment would be heavy indeed. The snake is a single-bladed whip, weighted, of braided leather, eight feet long and about a half an inch to an inch thick. It is capable of lifting the flesh from a man's back. Sometimes it is set with tiny particles of metal. It was not impossible that he would die under its blows. The snake is to be distinguished from the much more common Gorean slave whip, with its five broad striking surfaces. The latter whip, commonly used on females, punishes terribly; it has, however, the advantage of not marking the victim. No one is much concerned, of course, with whether or not a thrall is marked. A girl with an unmarked back, commonly, will bring a much higher price than a comparable wench, if her back be muchly scarred. Men commonly relish a smooth female, except for the brand scar. In Turia and Ar, it might be mentioned it is not uncommon for a female slave to be depilated. The young thrall looked at me. It was to me that he owed his life. "Thank you, my Jarl," he said. Then he turned and, wrists still bound before his body, as Ottar had fastened them, ran toward the bosk shed. "Go, Ottar, to the forge shed," said the Forkbeard, grinning. Tell Gautrek to pass by the bosk shed." Ottar grinned. "Good," he said. Gautrek was the smith. I did not envy the young man. "And Ottar," said the Forkbeard, "see that the thrall returns to his work in the morning." "I shall," said Ottar, and turned toward the forge shed. Outside were gathered several men, both of Ivar's ship and of the farm. Among them, eyes terrified, crooked-backed, was a cringing, lame thrall. "Lead us to what you have found," demanded the Forkbeard. We followed the man more than four pasangs, up the slopes, leading to the summer pastures. Then, on a height, from which we could see, far below the farm and ship of Ivar Forkbeard, we stopped. Behind a large rock, the cringing thrall, frightened, indicated what he had found. Then he did not wish to look upon it. She struggled, held. She had a fair throat, good shoulders; she was marvelously breasted; her waist was such that one could get his hands on it well; she might have been a bit broad in the beam but I had no objection to this; in the north it is called the love cradle; it was well adapted to cushion the shocks of an oarsman's pleasure; in the south she would have been said to be sweetly hipped; if the Forkbeard wished to breed her she would bear healthy, strong young to his thralls, enriching his farms; Late and fully were we feasting when the thrall-boy, tugging on the sleeve of Ivar Forkbeard, said to him, "My Jarl, the wench in the ice shed begs to be freed." "How long has she begged?" asked the Forkbeard. "For more than two Ahn," said the boy, grinning. He was male. "Good boy," said the Forkbeard, and tore him a piece of meat. "Thank you, my Jarl," said the boy. The boy, unlike the adult male thralls, was not chained at night in the bosk shed Ivar was fond of him. He slept, chained, in the kitchen. "High-farm girls!" she whispered, as she passed the bond-maids of Ivar Forkbeard. In the south the southern slave girl commonly regards her northern counterparts as bumpkins, dolts from the high farms on the slopes of the mountains of Torvaldsland; she thinks of them as doing little but swilling tarsk and dunging fields; she regards them as, essentially, nothing more than a form of bosk cow, used to work, to give simple pleasure to rude men, and to breed thralls. We saw thralls, too, in the crowd, and rune-priests, with long hair, in white robes, a spiral ring of gold on their left arms, about their waist a bag of omens chips, pieces of wood soaked in the blood of the sacrificial bosk, slain to open the thing; these chips are thrown like dice, sometimes several times, and are then read by the priests; the thing-temple, in which the ring of the temple is kept, is made of wood; nearby, in a grove, hung from poles, were bodies of six verr; in past days, it is my understanding, there might have been decided, however, a generation ago, by one of the rare meetings of the high council of rune-priests, attended by the high rune-priests of each district, that thralls should no longer be sacrificed; this was not defended, however, on grounds of the advance of civilization, or such, but rather on the grounds that thralls, like urts and tiny six-toed tharlarion, were not objects worthy of sacrifice; there had been a famine and many thralls had been sacrificed; in spite of this the famine had not abated for more than four growing seasons; this period, too, incidentally, was noted for the large number of raids to the south, often involving entire fleets from Torvaldsland; it had been further speculated that the gods had no need of thralls, or, if they did, they might supply this need themselves, or make this need known through suitable signs; no signs, however, luckily for thralls, were forthcoming; this was taken as a vindication of the judgment of the high council of rune-priests; after the council, the status of rune-priests had risen in Torvaldsland; this may also have had something to do with the fact that the famine, finally, after four seasons, abated; the status of the thrall, correspondingly, however, such as it was, declined; he was now regarded as much in the same category with the urts that one clubs in the Sa-Tarna sheds, or are pursued by small pet sleen, kept there for that purpose, or with the tiny, six-toed rock tharlarion of southern Torvaldsland, favored for their legs and tails, which are speared by children. If the thrall had been nothing in Torvaldsland before, he was now less than nothing; his status was now, in effect, that of the southern, male work slave, found often in the quarries and mines, and, chained, on the great farms. He, a despised animal, must obey instantly and perfectly, or be subject to immediate slaughter. The Forkbeard had bought one thrall with him, the young man, Tarsk, who, even now, followed in the retinue of the Forkbeard; it was thought that if the Forkbeard should purchase a crate of sleen fur or a chest of bog iron the young man, on his shoulders, might then bear it back to our tent, pitched among other tents, at the thing; bog iron, incidentally, is inferior to the iron of the south; the steel and iron of the weapons of the men of Torvaldsland, interestingly, is almost uniformly of southern origin; the iron extracted from bog ore is extensively used, however, for agricultural implements. An officer of Svein Blue Tooth, assisted by two thralls, quickly assessed Dagmar, stripping her, feeling her body, the firmness of her breasts, looking in her mouth. Behind the Forkbeard were myself, his men, those bond-maids who had accompanied us, and the thrall, Tarsk, who had been bought along, should the Forkbeard have made any heavy purchases. "My Jarl," said Thyri. "Yes," said the Forkbeard. "Should this thrall," she asked, indicating Tarsk, once Wulfstan of Kassau, "be permitted to look upon the beauty of the bond-maids?" "What do you mean?" asked Ivar Forkbeard. "He is, after all," said Thyri, "only a thrall." I wondered that she would deny the young man this pleasure. I recalled that she had said she hated him. I, personally, had no objection to his presence in the shed. Thralls, I expected, had few pleasures. It might have been more than a year since he had been permitted a female. The young man looked upon the proud Thyri with great bitterness. She lifted her head, and laughed. "I think," said Ivar Forkbeard, "that I will send him back to the tent." "Excellent," she said. She smiled at the thrall. "Chain!" said the Forkbeard. One of his men took from over his shoulder a looped chain. At each end it terminated in a manacle. It had been held, looped, by these manacles being locked into one another. He removed it from his shoulder and opened the manacles. The chain itself was about a yard long. He handed it to the Forkbeard. The young man would go chained to the tent. "Wrist," said the Forkbeard. The young man extended his wrists. Thyri watched, delighted. The Forkbeard closed the manacle about the young man's left wrist. Thyri laughed. Then the Forkbeard took Thyri's right wrist and closed it in the other fetter. "My Jarl!" she cried. "She is yours until morning," the Forkbeard told the young thrall. "Use her behind the tent." "My thanks, my Jarl!" he cried. "My Jarl!" wept Thyri. Tarsk seized the length of chain in his right fist, about a foot from her fetter. He jerked it. The fetter was large on her wrist, but she could not slip it. She was held. She looked at him with horror. "Hurry, Bond-maid!" he cried. He turned about, dragging her by the right wrist, and, almost running, pulled her, stumbling, crying out, after him. The Forkbeard, and I, and his men, laughed. We had not "It would be a shame," said I, "to interfere with his pleasure." "If necessary," said the Forkbeard, "I will simply have him gag her with her own kirtle." "Excellent," I said. "I may wish to use you to breed thralls," he said. "You must be healthy for the farm. Put your head back, close your eyes and open your mouth." The girl looked at me, pulling against the fiber that bound her wrists. "Have her delivered to the tent of Thorgeir of Ax Glacier," I told the presiding official. "Tell him that she is a gift to him from Tarl Red Hair." "It will be done," said the official. He signaled two burly thralls, each of whom seized her by one arm. "Deliver her to the tent of Thorgeir of Ax Glacier," he told them. "Tell him that she is a gift to him from Tarl Red Hair." The girl was turned about, each of the thralls holding one of her arms. She looked once over her shoulder. Then, between the thralls, moaning, crying out, stumbling, a gift being delivered, she was thrust toward the tent of he who was known at the thing as Thorgeir of Ax Glacier. Svein Blue Tooth's holdings, on the other hand, were quite large and complexly organized. It would not have seemed proper, at least in the eyes of Svein Blue Tooth and others, for a high officer to sit at the same table with a fellow whose main occupation was supervising thralls in the tending of verr. When the Forkbeard himself rose, of course, the camp became quite active, and the slaves were put about many menial labors; the thrall, Tarsk, was unchained from Thyri, and set about the sawing of wood; "If you are washed and readied," said a young thrall, collared, in a kirtle of white wool, "it is permissible to present yourselves before the high seat of the house, before my master, Svein Blue Tooth, Jarl of Torvaldsland." Male thralls turned the spits over the long fire; female thralls, bond-maids, served the tables. Bera, I noted, kept much of an eye upon them; one girl, seized by a warrior, her waist held, his other hand sliding upward from her ankle beneath the single garment permitted her, the long, stained woolen kirtle, making her cry out with pleasure, dared to thrust her lips eagerly, furtively, to his; but she was seen by Bera; orders were given; by male thralls she was bound and, weeping, thrust to the kitchen, there to be stripped and beaten; Men left the back tables; men crowded about; even the thralls and the bond-maids, astonished, disbelieving, crowded near. The men, and the thralls and bond-maids, parted. From the doors to the hall, swung wide, now approaching, came four figures, Ottar, who had accompanied the Forkbeard to the thing, two of the Forkbeard's men, with spears, and, between them, clad in rich robes of concealment, such as are worn in the south, even to the veils, the figure of a girl. Ivar, like many of those in the north, was a passable reader, but took care to conceal this fact. He belonged to the class of men who could hire their reading done for them, much as he could buy thralls to do his farming. "This is a sleeping chamber," he said. "There are no bones of animals here, or of thralls, or urns, or the remains of foodstuffs, offerings." He looked about. "Why," he asked me, "would Torvald have had carved in the Torvaldsberg a sleeping chamber?" Captains and rovers, farmers, fishermen, hunters, weavers of nets, smiths, carvers of wood, tradesmen and traders, men with little more than leather and an ax to their name, and jarls in purple cloaks, with golden pommels on their swords. And among them stood, too, thralls. Their heads were not lower than those with whom they stood. Among them was the lad called Tarsk, formerly Wulfstan of Kassau, to whom Thyri had once been given for the night. In the night of the attack he, at the Forkbeard's encampment near the thing field, with an ax, had slain a Kur. I remembered finding the carcass of the animal beneath the fallen, half-burned canvas of the Forkbeard's tent. Thralls are not permitted to touch the war arrow, but they are permitted to kneel to those who have. Wulfstan had handed the Forkbeard the ax, disarming himself, and had then knelt before him, putting his head to his feet. Thralls may be slain for so much as touching a weapon. He had taken dirt from beneath the feet of the Forkbeard and, kneeling, had poured it on his head. "Rise, Thrall," had said the Forkbeard. The young man had then stood, and straightly, head high, before the Forkbeard. The Forkbeard threw him back the ax. "Carry it," said the Forkbeard. The order of such a march is typically as follows; captured humans, in single file, form its center. These humans are usually thralls and bond-maids, but not always. Blocking the path of the Kur was a man, in a kirtle of white wool, a collar of black iron at his throat. He held his ax lifted. The Kur snarled, but the man, Tarsk, Thrall of the Forkbeard, once Wulfstan of Kassau, did not move. More than once today had I seen the fellow Tarsk at work in the fighting. In the lines of Svein Blue Tooth, once he had fought not more than six men from my right. His ax, and his kirtle, were much bloodied. Many times had his ax in the ferocities of combat drunk the blood of Kurii. The Kur threw the girl to one side. In her collar she fell whimpering, her eyes filled with terror. The Kur cast about and suddenly darted its great hand down and clutched an ax, a Kur ax. Wulfstan did not strike. He waited. The lips of the Kur drew back. He now had the ax firmly in his two heavy fists. He snarled. Thyri lay on her side, the palms of her hands on the ground, her right leg under her. She watched the two beasts contesting her, the Kur and the human beast, terrible with the bloodied ax, Wulfstan of Kassau. The fight was swift and sharp. Ivar was pleased. "You did well," he told the young man. "You did well earlier today, and now, you are free." At his feet lay the bloodied Kur. He stood over it, a free man. "Wulfstan," cried Thyri. She sprang to her feet and ran to him, burying her head, weeping, in her hair against his chest. "I love you," she wept. "I love you!" "The wench is yours," laughed Ivar Forkbeard. Yes, he had made me kick and squeak before her! To what a sweet spectacle she had been treated! But did she also, I wondered, look on in awe and fear, watching me not only kick and squeak, but moan, and wriggle, and writhe, and clutch at him, a spasmodic thrall, a mastered slave, considering that, in some other time and place, it might be she herself who would find herself so responding, so gasping, so eager, so pleading, so helpless, so mastered, in the arms of a man? "Barbarian slut," he said, "Earth-girl slave, Earth-girl thrall!" Instantly a fierce torrent of abuse from the chained women rained upon the occupants of the shelf, to which the occupants of the shelf did not dare to reply. "Cement-shelf girls!" "She-urts!" "She-sleen!" "Pot-and-mat girls!" "Low slaves!" "Barbarians!" "Earth-girls!" "Bondmaids!" "Plow-thralls!" "Collar meat!" "Slave meat!" "Flesh-trash!" Such were the epithets that sped forth that evening from the throats of their fair rivals. There were other names, phrases and remarks that Ellen did not even understand. She pulled a little against the bracelets and there was a tiny sound of chain, emphasizing her helplessness and captivity, and her movements, too, of course, drew the belly chain back, more tightly, about her, reining in her belly, which, in emphasizing the narrowness of her waist, the contrasting flare of her hips, the swelling, lovely ascent to her bosom, and her condition as bound thrall, presumably did not much help either. Serious matters of some sort were afoot. Surely haste was being made. It was not surprising then that the comfort of a she-thrall, the comfort of a curvaceous little bondmaid, particularly one being disciplined, was less than uppermost on their minds. Kurii, it might be mentioned, are not the only species which take the females of other groups for mates, thralls, servants, slaves, and such. Surely she was a shapely thrall, but what else?
There were several of Tarna's males sitting about, in silken tunics, some with jewelry, curious about Hassan and myself. Some of them were rather sullen. The mistress had not, this night, chosen one of them for her evening's pleasure. One of them, earlier, a fellow in a ruby necklace, had said, "I am more handsome, surely, than he," referring to me. I supposed it were true. On the other hand, Hassan and myself had a certain advantage, I supposed, in freshness and novelty. At this point I had been summoned by the two bare-armed, white-garbed girls, for my bath. "Do you object, Ali?" asked one of the silken fellows. "No, I do not," snapped the girl in the white garment, with towels. I had not understood, for a moment, to whom he might be speaking. The girl, however, had answered him. I recalled I had asked her if she were kept for the men, and that she had responded, angrily, "Of course not!" He had then asked, "Do you object, Ali?" I swam to the side of the bath and looked up at her. "What is your name?" I asked. She stepped back. "Ali," said she. "That is a man's name," I said. "Or a boy's." "My mistress," said the girl, "gives me what name she pleases." She was angry. The fellow who had spoken before laughed. "Be silent, Fina!" she snapped, sharply. His face turned white. He put his head down. "Yes, Mistress," he said. "Fina," I said to her, "is a woman's name, or a girl's." "It pleases the mistress," said she, "to give us what names she pleases." She glanced at the males about, in their silk. "Each," said she, "all of them have such names, the names of girls." She glared at Hassan, and myself. "You two, too, will be so designated!" Then she cried, "Go! Go to your alcoves, Slaves! Go!" The men, some of them frightened, with the exception of Hassan who sat, puzzled, by the side of the bath, scurried to their tiny alcoves. "What have we here?" I asked. I noted one silken fellow, he with the ruby necklace, trying furtively to slip about the side of the room to the door. He broke into a run, but I managed to trip him, and Hassan leaped upon him and carried him, squirming, to the bath. "We will be beaten," whimpered the fellow. "Give the alarm!" he shouted to his fellow males. Two or three stood about, but they did not cry out. Hassan took the fellow and threw him on his belly by the bath and held his head under water, for about an Ehn. When he pulled the fellow's head up, he said to him, "You might be drowned in the bath. Such accidents can happen." Then he thrust his head again under the water. When he pulled it up the second time the fellow cried out for mercy. Hassan threw him to two of the other males "If he attempts to give the alarm," said Hassan, "drown him." "Very well," said one of the other fellows. I gathered there was little lost affection for the fellow in the ruby necklace in the seraglio of Tarna. He was, I had learned, a weak fellow, an informer, one constantly alert to opportunities to ingratiate himself with the mistress who despised him, one of her most obsequious pets, held in contempt by all. "You may blame his drowning on us, of course," said Hassan. "Naturally," said one of the silken fellows. The fellow in the ruby necklace shuddered. "I will be silent," he said. "You will be silent, or be silenced," said one of the fellows. "Remember," said another, "whatever happens, eventually, you will be put back with us." "I will remember," said the fellow. "I will do as you wish." "Take him to an alcove," I said. "Bind and gag him. Then, too, retire to your alcoves." "Very well," they said, retiring, taking with them the stumbling, miserable fellow in the ruby necklace. "Are there no masters among them?" asked a woman. "Are they all silk slaves?" "That is my understanding," said the Lady Tima. "They are all the silk slaves of women." Surely that is false, I thought. I had known large and strong men on Earth. Yet it was true that many such men, of masculine configuration and size, hastened to obey women. They had been taught that they would not be true men unless they did what women wished. On Gor, of course, it is the women who obey, if they have been made slaves. "The men of Earth are only silk slaves," said Lady Tima. I was certain that she was wrong. Somewhere on Earth, here and there, I was certain, there were honestly strong men, in the historical and biological sense, men before women knelt as smaller and weaker creatures, and objects of intense desire. I had thought that I had been such a man. Then I had found myself a slave on Gor. I wondered if more than a handful of men on Earth would ever recollect their manhood. I thought not. It is easier to fear and castigate manhood, than to assume it. The first is well within the reach of the weak; the second is only within the grasp of the strong. "Only silk slaves!" said the Lady Tima. "No," I cried, in agony. "No! There must be true men on Earth!" The whip of the Lady Tendite, suddenly, its blades folded back against its staff, struck me on the side of the face. "Oh, Jason," said the Lady Tima, pityingly, "did you speak without permission?" Again I struggled, fiercely, to throw off the men who held me. Then again, helplessly, was I held. "That is no silk slave," I heard. "Come now, Ladies," said the Lady Tendite. "This is a superb silk slave. It is true he is somewhat untrained, but which of you is not capable of training a silk slave? He is from the planet Earth. He is fully tame." "This is not a common work slave," said the Lady Tendite to the crowd, "a simple brute, an insensitive lout for your fields or stables. This is a valuable and highly intelligent silk slave. Furthermore, he is a male from Earth. From birth he has been taught to be deferential to the wishes of women, to adopt whatever values they have told him to adopt, and to believe whatever propositions they have told him to believe. Buy him. He has been trained since birth to be the slave of women. Have no fear. He will be sweet, tender, solicitous, understanding, sympathetic and obedient. You need not fear lust and power from him. You need not fear to be alone with him. He is a male of Earth. Bid for him. He will always be to you a lovely and complete slave." The female slave on Gor, knowing herself owned, is usually in little doubt as to what can occur to her in her slavery. The next level of slaves is that of male silk slaves. These usually bring higher prices, on the whole, than female pleasure slaves. This, it seems to me, is purely a matter of supply and demand. Female pleasure slaves, given slave raids and the sackings of cities, are relatively plentiful on Gor. Male silk slaves are not. The explanation for this, I think, is reasonably clear. Gorean males seldom make good silk slaves. The explanation for the much smaller number of male as opposed to female slaves on Gor, speaking now generally of male work slaves, is also clear. First, the female tends to be the desired object of the slaver's seizure. She brings higher prices than male work slaves. Secondly, in battles, often male defenders have been slaughtered or driven off. Their females thus remain as spoils for the chains of the victors. Too, male captives are often killed. Female captives, on the other hand, particularly if comely, are usually spared for the collars of their conquerors. They learn to yield well to their masters. The most valuable general category of slaves, however, much to the chagrin of some male silk slaves, is that of the particularly desirable female. Sixteen tarsks was actually a high price to pay for a male silk slave. Most would go from four to six tarsks. We passed a woman in the street, a woman of Ar, followed by a silk slave. He looked at me. I suppose he was wondering what I had cost. A slave girl, sitting, her hands bound before her body with cord, by a shortened neck-leash, was chained at one of these rings. At another, also sitting, fastened there by a two-loop fitting, running to a collar ring, was a silk slave. "She did not chain you," said the male silk slave to me. "No," I said. "What did you cost?" he asked. "Sixteen tarsks," I said. "That is not much," he said, puzzled. "Of silver," I said. "Liar," he said. I shrugged. I glanced again at the male silk slave sitting on the walk, fastened at the ring. I wondered what she might look like in a collar. I knew, of course, what she looked like naked, for I was her silk slave. Free women think as little of concealing their bodies before their silk slaves as the women of Earth would before their pet dogs. "I am thirsty," she said. "Kneel," I said. "Never," she said. I looked away. "I am kneeling," she said. I looked back at her. She was now kneeling. "Slave!" said the male silk slave, fastened at the wall, at the next ring. "I am very thirsty," said the girl, after a time. "I am chained. Would you bring me water from the fountain, please?" "You must pay me," I said. The male silk slave at the next ring cried out with outrage. "You must pay me," I said. "Do you understand?" "Clearly," she said. I went to the fountain and, from the lower bowl, scooped up a brimming, double handful of water which I carded, carefully, to the girl. I lifted it to her lips and she, kneeling, hands bound before her body, her neck on its chain leash fastened to the ring behind her, drank. My hands were in position, when she had drunk, to hold her head. She looked at me, frightened. "I know the feel of such hands," she said. "You are not a silk slave," she whispered. "I," said the silk slave fastened at the next ring, "if I had been free, would have fetched you the water for nothing." "I know your sort," said the girl. "You ask nothing, but you expect much." I thrust the girl back against the wall. I thrust my lips to her throat. "I prefer a man," gasped the girl, to the silk slave, "who takes command of a girl, and takes what he wants from her." Then she said to me, sucking in her breath, turning her head to the side, "And what do you want of me?" "Everything," I told her, "and more." "I feared so," she laughed. I thrust up her bound hands, to get them out of my way. I then understood why Goreans commonly bind the hands of women behind their back. Then her bound wrists, crossed, were behind the back of my neck, and her lips began to meet mine, eagerly. "Take me," she whispered, "- Master!" "Stop!" cried the silk slave at the next ring. "Stop! I shall tell!" "Take me, Master!" begged the girl. "Please take me!" "Stop!" cried the silk slave. "Stop! I shall tell! I shall tell!" "I shall tell," said the silk slave at the ring. "Come back," called the silk slave. "Stay at the wall! I will tell! I will tell!" "You are a silk slave?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "Who is your master?" I asked, walking behind her. "Oneander of Ar," she said, "of the merchants. He does business in Vonda." I did not release her neck. "You are not a silk slave," she said, in pain, held. "Look at yourself!" she cried. "You have been fighting!" I glanced quickly at the silk slave fastened by the neck to the slave ring on the other side of the girl at the nearer ring. He grinned at me. I realized he must have told Lady Florence all that had occurred. "I cannot leave you alone for a moment!" said the Lady Florence. "You have kept me waiting! I cannot turn my back for an instant but you are in trouble. Do you not know I have been finished shopping for a quarter of an Ahn!" "No, Mistress," I said. "He ran away," said the male silk slave. "No," I said. "I was just down the street." "He accosted a slave girl in a retinue, too," volunteered the silk slave at the ring on the other side of the girl. "It was there that he was fighting." I glanced at the male silk slave, who was sitting on the walk, coupled by his neck to the ring behind him, smiling. I wanted to break in his face. "You are even beautiful, Mistress," I said. "How obsequious are silk slaves," she laughed, but was pleased. "I am very rich, Jason," she said, "but, too, I am very lonely. Too, I am restless. I do not know why." I did not speak. Mistresses, I knew, often spoke intimately to their silk slaves. "How I hate men!" she cried. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "Yet," she said, "they stir me. Oh, I do not mean you, Jason, a silk slave, but true men." "Yes, Mistress," I said. "I like you, Jason," she said. "You excite me," she whispered. Women think little of speaking intimately to their silk slaves, for such are only their animals. My Mistress now took me for granted. No longer did she even give any thought to any possible recalcitrance on my part. I was now only a docile, obedient slave. I had been beaten with the snake. The two men, I surmised, might be ruffians hired to hunt down a strayed or tardy silk slave. "It seems a shame for a beautiful woman to waste her time with a silk slave," he said. "She should be crawling, collared, to the feet of a true man." I said nothing. "You are her preferred silk slave, are you not?" she asked. "I think so, Mistress," I said. "Lady Melpomene has beautiful hair," I said. "Silk slaves are such flatterers," she said. But I could see she was pleased. It was true, of course, that she had beautiful hair. "But now," she said, "Jason, her precious silk slave, lies chained upon my couch." I did not speak. She came to the couch and sat near me. "You are a pretty Slave," she said. I did not speak. "I am a man," I said. "No," she said, "you are only a silk slave." She looked down at me. "Indeed," she said, "you are a male of the world called Earth. You are fit, thus, only to be a woman's property." "May I know what was in the note which was affixed to my collar?" "I, too, am curious," he grinned. He picked up the note. "'My sweet friend and compatriot, Lady Florence of Vonda,'" read Kenneth, '"Thank you very much for the use of your lovely silk slave, Jason. I enjoyed him very much. It is easy to see why you are so fond of him. Incidentally, thank you, too, for the lovely gift of perfume. I wore it while using him for my pleasure. Thank you again, my sweet and understanding friend, and generous friend, for your kindness in these matters. I wish you well. Melpomene, Lady of Vonda.'" "Is she pleasant in the furs?" he asked. "It was I, a silk slave," I said, smiling, "not she, who must needs be pleasant in the furs." I no longer wore the collar of the silk slave. I now wore, like other stable slaves, a common work collar, of black iron, with an attached ring. On it was the legend 'I belong to the Lady Florence of Vonda.' I, like other stable slaves, was chained at night. I inspected her. Her lineaments, for I had once been her silk slave, were not unfamiliar to me. Above the veil, briefly, I saw her eyes flash in anger. But then she controlled herself. She would say nothing. How could she, in such a situation, call attention to the fact that she had been inspected, and as a woman, by one who was a mere slave. "Is this not a new slave in the stables?" she asked Kenneth. "Yes, Lady Florence," said Kenneth, "but, still, he has been with us now for some five weeks." "What is his name?" she asked. "Jason," said Kenneth. "He seems familiar," she said, lightly. "Perhaps you remember him, Lady Florence," said Kenneth. "He was once your silk slave." "Ah!" she said, as though suddenly recollecting the matter. "Is it truly you, Jason?" she asked. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "Our lovely Taphris, it seems," said Kenneth, "has business in the stables." I said nothing. "It seems the Mistress has not forgotten her former silk slave." I did not speak. "Taphris is a spy," said Kenneth. "She has been sent to the stables by the Mistress to spy on you." "I see," I said. "Beware of her," he said. "I will," I said. Though she was robed and veiled I would have recognized her, of course, from her eyes, her attitude, the lineaments of her body. Silk slaves recognize the bodies of their mistresses, even when they are robed and veiled, with much the same ease with which a master recognizes the bodies of his slaves. Too, I had, as I had learned on Gor, a good eye for woman flesh. Too, to my amazement, I recognized the woman who stood beside her. "Melpomene," said the Lady Florence to her new slave, who was now kneeling on the love furs, "when you were a free woman and dared to steal my silk slave for your pleasure, did you kiss him?" "Of course not, Mistress," she said. "I was a free woman. I would not put my lips to the body of a slave." "Recline on the love furs, Jason," said the Lady Florence. I did so, dropping aside the half tunic I wore. The Lady Leta and the Lady Perimene drew in their breath with pleasure. "Melpomene," said the Lady Florence, "you understand that you are now no longer a free woman but only a slut of a slave." "Yes, Mistress," said Melpomene, quickly. "Furthermore, you understand that Jason is no longer a silk slave, but only a stable slave, a lowly stable slave." "Yes, Mistress," said Melpomene. "Kiss his body," said the Lady Florence, "every inch of it." "I wear a collar," she said. "I am a slave. I must obey. But I would be Mistress!" "Mistress?" I asked. "I will have you, when I wish, in the secrecy of the tunnels as my own silk slave," she said. "There you will obey me, and do as I command." I was silent. "I find your body not disagreeable, Jason," she said. "I see," I said. "Too, you are a strong, powerful man. I hate such men. You are the sort of man in whose arms a woman could weep herself slave. I hate such men! It will be especially delicious to break and humble you!" "I see," I said. "Meet me in the tunnel," she said. "No," I said. "Very well," she said, and turned about and left. I stood in the absolute darkness of the tunnel, waiting. I heard nothing. "I saw Taphris sneak from the barn," had said Kenneth, when he had come to see me in my stall yesterday evening. "Yes, Master," I had said, struggling to my knees, the chain on my neck. I did not wish to be slain for disrespect. "Do not bother to kneel," said Kenneth, crouching at the end of the stall. I had then sat in the stall, in the straw. "How is your back?" asked Kenneth. "Sore," said I, grinning. "Barus belabored it well." "We had no choice," said Kenneth. "Taphris was watching." Kenneth looked at me. "Taphris was here," he said. "What did she want?" "Nothing," I said. "Speak," he said. "She wants me to meet me in the tunnel," I said. "She wishes to force me to be her silk slave." "The she-sleen," laughed Kenneth. "What did you say?" "I refused," I said. "Doubtless she will then have you beaten again," he said. I shrugged. "Doubtless," I said. "I belong to the Lady Florence of Vonda, of course," I said to her. "Here in the tunnels," she said, "you belong to me." "I do not think the Lady Florence of Vonda would be pleased to hear that," I said. "I did not earlier this week," I said, "steal a kiss from Tuka nor did I, two days later, with two hands, intimately caress the leg of Peliope near the first feed shed." She laughed. "Yet," she said, "you were beaten for both offenses." "Why did you lie?" I asked. "It pleased me," she said. "And did it not bring you before me, on your knees, in the tunnel, a cringing silk slave?" "More is at stake here," said Barus, "than a local championship. Miles is not pleased at having had you best Gort, his former champion. He is not pleased, so to speak, to have had his stables lose to those of the Lady Florence, whom he once courted in vain. Too, it is well known you were once a silk slave to Lady Florence. Thus I think he would not be entirely displeased were you to be humiliated and crushingly defeated in the pit, perhaps even broken, disfigured and maimed." "When Krondar is through with him," laughed a man in the tiers, "a she-tharlarion would not have him for a silk slave!" There was laughter at this. "What are you thinking?" I asked her. "I was thinking," she said, "that you were once my silk slave." "Who are you?" asked Oneander of Ar, apprehensively. "I was once a silk slave," I said. "You may recall me, from the streets of Ar, some months ago, in the neighborhood of the shop of Philebus. You set two slaves upon me. "Do not kill me," he whispered. I drew away the mask. "Who are you?" she asked. "Do you not recall me?" I asked. "I was once a silk slave. My name is Jason." Slowly recognition crept into her eyes. "No," she whispered. "No!" Then, struggling wildly, she tore at the ropes. "No," she screamed. "No!" Then again she lay before me, tied as helplessly and perfectly as before. "No," she whispered. "No, no." "Yes," I whispered to her. "Yes." I looked down at her. "You are now tied, or muchly so," I said, "as was the girl on the walk, outside the shop of Philebus, in Ar." "Yes, Master," she said, happily. "I had brought her a drink of water," I said. "I had set the price for this favor as my having of her." This had occurred long ago, when I had been a silk slave, owned by the Lady Florence of Vonda. Most Gorean slave girls are comely, or beautiful. This is easy to understand. It is almost always the better looking women who are taken for slaves, and, of course, in breeding slaves, it is commonly only the most beautiful of female slaves who are used, these usually being crossed, hooded, with handsome male silk slaves, also hooded. The female offspring of these matings, needless to say, are often exquisite. The male offspring, incidentally, and interestingly, to my mind, are often handsome, strong and quite masculine. This is perhaps because many male silk slaves are chosen to be male silk slaves not because they are weak or like women, but because they are not; it is only that they are men, and often true men, who must serve women, totally, in the same fashion that a slave female is expected to serve a free master. To be sure, it is also true, and should be admitted in all honesty, that many male silk slaves are rather feminine; some women prefer this type, perhaps because they fear true men; from such a silk slave they need not fear that they may suddenly be turned upon, and tied, and taught to be women. Most women, however, after a time, find this type of silk slave a banality and a bore; charm and wit can be entertaining, but, in time, if not conjoined with intellect and true masculine power, they are likely to wear thin. The feminine type of male silk slave, incidentally, for better or for worse, is seldom selected for breeding purposes. Gorean slave breeders, perhaps benighted in this respect, prefer what they take to be health to what they think of as sickness, and what they take to be strength to what they deem weakness. Some female slaves, incidentally, have a pedigreed lineage going back through several generations of slave matings, and their masters hold the papers to prove this. It is a felony in Gorean law to forge or falsify such papers. Many Goreans believe that all women are born for the collar, and that a woman cannot be truly fulfilled as a woman until a strong man puts it on her, until she finds herself reduced to her basic femaleness at his feet. She lifted the ring. I could see that it was heavy. She then lowered it back into place, so that it again, in its retaining ring, fastened in a metal plate, bolted into the couch, hung parallel to the side of the couch. "By means of such a ring," she said, "a male silk slave might be chained at the foot of your couch." "I see," said Ligurious, lightly, "that you bring with you no male silk slaves, in chains, to be presented to the Tatrix." "It is well known," said Miles, "that the Tatrix of Corcyrus is not interested in men, but only in gold and power." "Beware," said Ligurious. I did not understand, truly, the remark of Miles of Argentum. I was not interested in men, of course, I reassured myself, as a woman of Earth, but, on the other hand, I did not think that I was unusually greedy either. Such things, at any rate, were generally not uppermost in my mind. There was a difference sometimes, I supposed, between the true and reputed characters of public figures. How odd, sometimes, are fame and rumors. That I might conceivably be presented with male silk slaves took me aback for a moment but then I realized that, as a female ruler, it was not out of the question that I might be presented with such gifts. She stood. "Are you familiar with the duties of a silk slave?" she asked. As she spoke, she began to casually disrobe. "I am a free man," I said. "But you have some conception of their duties, do you not?" she inquired. "Yes," I said. "Such duties, and others," she said, "will be yours." "I understand," I said. "I think it will be amusing to apply a free man to the duties of a silk slave." "Doubtless," I said. "Indeed, I may dally somewhat, as it pleases me, or not, in the matter of your enslavement." I said nothing. "And perhaps, if I find you quite good, after you are enslaved, with your fellows, I might not even sell you at the Fair of En-Kara. I might keep you - as a silk slave." I did not speak. I looked again at the city in the distance. From here it looked very beautiful. Yet I knew that somewhere within it, perhaps within its crowded quarters, from which mobs might erupt like floods, or within its sheltered patios and gardens, where high ladies might exchange gossip, sip nectars and toy with dainty repasts, served to them by male silk slaves, or among its houses and towers, or on its streets or in the great baths, that somewhere there, somewhere behind those walls, was treason. The baths in many Gorean towns are important social centers. Some are private, for a reserved clientele, but most are public, and their facilities, for a fee, are available to all free persons. They tend to be segregated, of course. Free persons of different sexes do not bathe together publicly. This reservation, of course, does not preclude the presence of female bath attendants in the men's baths or of silk slaves in those for the women. Gorean baths are almost always segregated, incidentally, if only by the time of day. This does not mean that bath girls may not be available to tend to a strong male's various wants in the men's baths, or that handsome silk slaves, if they are summoned, may not appear in attendance in the baths of free women. "It is strange," said Marcus. "I would have thought they might even free and arm male slaves." I shrugged. "But then," he said, "I suppose there are not too many male slaves in the city who might serve in that capacity." "Surely you are aware that male silk slaves are trained in such things as the serving of wine to their mistresses," she said. "I am not a silk slave," he said. Some women keep male silk slaves, but they are rare. The Gorean view is that slavery is appropriate for the female, and not for the male. "We have some new male slaves in Pen 2 of the Bata Section," said another to her, he whose whip I had first kissed. The woman turned, to see who had addressed her, and suddenly, for a moment, she seemed taken aback. I think she had not seen him well before. He whose whip I had first kissed was, in his unassuming way, a powerful, handsome Gorean male. I thought him the most handsome of all the guards. He was the most attractive man I had ever seen. I was weak when near him. It was his whip which I had first kissed on this world. It was from such a man that a woman might beg the collar! Why was he so cruel to me? I wanted only to please him, and as the slave I was. Her attitude immediately changed. "Oh?" she said, archly. "I do not know if you would be interested," he said. "They are male silk slaves, pleasantly featured, symmetrically proportioned charming fellows, gentle, sensitive, unthreatening. They are well trained to be a woman's slave." "Ah!" she said, as though interested. I did not move a muscle. I knelt almost rigidly, my knees spread. I had not dared to meet her eyes. It can be deemed presumptuous for a slave to directly meet the eyes of a free person, unless the permission is clear. Suddenly she had forgotten about me! "They are the sort," he said, "with whom a lady might chat of her day, her doings and thoughts, with whom she might exchange gossip, and gratefully share delicate confidences. They are well trained to be a woman's slave. They would look well in their silk at your slave ring. You could be proud of them as they hurry about your errands, keep your quarters and serve your friends." "They are not masculine, are they?" she inquired. "I find masculinity so offensive and vulgar," she said. The liar, the liar, I thought. Even within her garments I sensed her naked body palpitating in his presence! What possible interest could she be to such a man, other than perhaps to be seized, stripped and caged, for an eventual sale? "You need have no fear," he said. "They have been selected for their nature, which is that to be a woman's slave." I sensed that she, as any hormonally normal woman, would despise such creatures. "By all means," she said, "let us look at them." Slave girls often have the run of the city. On the other hand, male slaves seldom do, for obvious reasons. An exception is the male silk slave, usually the male pleasure slave of a rich woman, but sometimes one belonging to a female entrepreneur, in whose brothel, one specializing in the tastes of women, he serves. Some men are brought from Earth here for such purposes I have heard, but I do not know if it is true. There were certainly no males in my group. We were all women. Had there been males in our group I think they would have soon been spoiled for such an application. Seeing women like us, in the power of men, they would doubtless have soon assumed the whip and become masters. "I doubt that his motivations are so benevolent, so thoughtful," I said, "even mixedly so. And, on the other hand, his motivations are certainly not villainous, or malevolent. Do not think so. You know him too well for that. I think of him primarily as a business man, obtaining, transporting, and selling, usually wholesale, wares of interest." "Women," she said. "Perhaps an occasional silk slave, to delight a free woman," I said. "Mostly women," she said. "Almost always," I said. Perhaps there were free women on board, and one or another wished to amuse herself with a male silk slave. "No," I said. "And men of my world are often similarly marked." "Male silk slaves?" she said. "Not at all," I said. "I have seen such milky, frightened things in the markets," she said. "Some women like them. But they are men, of course, and there is always the danger that one of them, seeing here what men may be, may revert and turn on one." And I had heard guards exchanging remarks, after the passage of one free woman or another in the house, perhaps shopping for a serving slave, or a silk slave, speculating on her possible value on the block. I had heard there were male silk slaves. Perhaps there were other markets where they were exhibited and sold, markets frequented by women rich enough to buy them. Such slaves were apparently scorned by Gorean males. It was said Earth was a good source of such slaves, as its males had already learned to fear, please, and obey women. Many were silk slaves and did not know that they were silk slaves. Some were natural silk slaves and others had been raised, taught and trained to be such. These were told they were "true men." Even their mistresses despised them. What, on Earth, did they lack but a distinctive garb, and the collar? "Clearly, on this world," I said, "female slavery exists." "And male slavery," he said, "but male slavery is less obvious, as most male slaves are utilized in the quarries, on the galleys, on the great farms, in such places. Occasionally a male is taken from your former world, a typical male of your former world, suitably conditioned, and thus reduced and tamed, to be sold as a silk slave to a Gorean mistress. Such can be perilous though, for they sometimes, on this world, learn their manhood, and may thus constitute a danger to the mistress, who might find herself gagged and put in a slave sack, to be sold, or even, collared, to find herself at the feet of her former slave. Accordingly most slaves brought to Gor are women, namely, members of the slave sex." "Why are not men, male slaves, or beasts, bosk or tharlarion, used to turn the mill?" I had asked one of my chain sisters. "Male slaves are dangerous," she said. "Few are permitted within a city's walls, save for male silk slaves, the pets of free women, and they make poor draft beasts, and we are cheaper than bosk and tharlarion." The male slave, putting aside the male silk slave, is essentially a work animal.
For a male slave, or Kajirus, of the Wagon Peoples, and there are few, save for the work chains, to be clad Kajir means to wear the Kes, a short, sleeveless work tunic of black leather. In a girl's collar lock there would be either six pins or six disks, one each, it is said, for each letter in the Gorean word for female slave, Kajira; the male slave, or Kajirus, seldom has a locked collar; normally a band of iron is simply hammered about his neck; often he works in chains, usually with other male slaves; in some cities, including Ar, an unchained male slave is almost never seen; there are, incidentally, far fewer male slaves than female slaves; a captured female is almost invariably collared; a captured male is almost invariably put to the sword; Those who jeered me or sported with their straps and stones would have little reason for not thinking me slave. I was barefooted; my only garment was a short woolen, sleeveless tunic; on both the back and the front of this tunic was sewn a large block letter, the initial letter of the Gorean expression "Kajirus," which means a male slave. "What is to be done with me and my men?" I asked. "Curiosity," she said, "is not becoming in a Kajirus." I was silent. She smiled. "You might be beaten for it," she said. I did not speak. "What are you going to do with me and my men?" I demanded. "Bring a whip," said Verna. Mira leaped to her feet. "Curiosity," she said, "is not becoming in a Kajirus." Mira returned with the whip, a five-strap Gorean slave whip. The brazier, fierce with heat, stood not two yards from Marlenus of Ar. Its coals were poked and stirred with one of the metal bars. Then one of the men of Tyros lifted the iron, glowing redly, from the fire. Its marking surface, its termination, soft and red in the night, was in the form of a large, block letter in Gorean script, the initial of Kajirus, a common Gorean expression for a male slave. Both girls knelt before the Lady Gina. She spoke to them in Gorean. I heard the word 'Kajirus', which I would later learn was an expression for a male slave, and I heard the expression 'Jason', which was the name I had been given. I knelt, head down, before the square iron box, the exterior of which was enameled white, one side of which, its door, on hinges, lay opened on the tiles. I tensed. On two sides of the box, in red paint, was a Kef, in block printing. Kef, of course, is the initial letter not only of the Gorean expression 'Kajira', the most common Gorean expression for a female slave, but also 'Kajirus', the most common Gorean expression for a male slave. The block printing-indicated that the box was suitable for a male slave. "Beautiful Mistresses," I said, "can you tell me in what city I am?" "Be silent, Slave," said the first woman. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajirus," said the second. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "Forgive me, Mistresses." She worked quietly, thoughtfully. Sometimes she would remove one paper from the group, and add another. Occasionally she would make a notation on one of the papers with her marking stick. Several Ehn went by. I did not disturb her. I knew she was working. She was a businesswoman, with demanding and intricate responsibilities. I wondered if any of those papers were pertinent to me. I did not dare ask, of course. I had learned that curiosity was not becoming in a Kajirus. If I were to be sold tomorrow I would find out when masters or mistresses were pleased to let me know, perhaps as late as the moment when a sales disk might be wired to my collar. "Does master intend to keep me long in his possession?" he asked. "Do not concern yourself with the matter," I said. He looked at me. "Curiosity is not becoming in a kajirus," I said. "Yes, Master," he said. This was a play, of course, on the common Gorean saying that curiosity is not becoming in a female slave, or kajira. One of the traces of Earth influence on Gorean, incidentally, in this case, an influence from Latin, occurs in the singular and plural endings of certain expressions. For example, 'kajirus' is a common expression in Gorean for a male slave as is 'kajira' for a female slave. The plural for slaves considered together, both male and female, or for more than one male slave is 'kajiri'. The plural for female slaves is 'kajirae'. In brief, the word sa-fora means "Chain Daughter" or "Daughter of the Chain". The word kajira, on the other hand, is by far the most common expression in Gorean for what I am, which is, as you have doubtless surmised, a female slave. Yes, slave. The male form is kajirus. The plural of the first word is kajirae, and of the second kajiri. I did not know the meaning of the words 'La kajira', but it was not difficult, under the circumstances, to speculate on their nature. They would be incidentally, the first words I would learn in my new language, Gorean, the language of my masters. Both 'Lo kajirus' and 'La kajira' may be translated "I am a slave." 'Lo kajirus' is masculine; 'La kajira' is feminine. "My arms were tired," I said. "The pail was heavy. The journey was much further than usual, my body ached, a kindly kajirus helped me, carrying the pail for much of the distance." I remembered the strong, handsome fellow, with long, powerful arms, a kajirus, or one seemingly a kajirus. His name, I recalled, or what he had proffered as his name, had been 'Drusus'. A woman who is a slave is not likely to forget such a fellow. Were he not in a collar, and clad kajir, it would have been easy to think of him owning slaves. I, now no longer blindfolded, had recognized the red-robed fellow instantly upon entering the serving chamber. But now he was not disguised, not collared, not clad in a humble tunic, that of a kajirus, a male slave. |       
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