Blood Brothers of Gor (51 page)

"Yes," admitted the young man, not raising his head.

"You followed us here, from its vicinity," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"We hoped you would lead us to food," he said. "We did not know what else to do."

"Your crime, as I recall, was to found touching one another."

"No," said the young man. "No!"

"Kneel down," I told the young woman, "before this young man, and strip off that foolish garb."

The young man looked at me, startled. "Do not avert your eyes from her," I told him.

The girl pulled up the long, clumsy dress, to her knees, and then knelt before the young man. She then drew the dress over her head and put it on the side. In this way she was on her knees before him, as she bared her beauty to him.

"Do not avert your eyes," I warned the young man.

"Ohhh," he said, softly. "She is so beautiful."

"Does it now seem to you so shameful, or horrifying, to touch her?" I asked.

"No," he said. "No!"

"No longer are you Waniyanpi," I said. "She may now be touhed freely, however and as often as you wish."

"I cannot believe such freedom," he said. "It is so differnt! It is glorious!"

"It is your freedom, not hers," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"Do not forget that she is a female," I said.

He regarded me, puzzled.

"She seems hungry," I said. I had noted that she was eyeing the cake of pemmican in his hand.

"Forgive me, Strawberry!" he said. "I am so thoughtless!" He quickly broke the cake of pemmican in two.

I put my hand on his arm. "You are the male," I said. "It is yours, not hers."

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"I will share it with her, of course," he said.

"She has not yet begged," I said.

He looked at me, startled. Then he, in confusion, looked again upon the girl.

"I beg for something to eat," she said, smiling.

He quickly gave her half of the tiny cake of pemmican and she, on her knees, naked, swiftely, ravenously, ate it.

He then, musingly, regarding her, finished the remaining part of the cake of pemmican.

"Hold still," I told him. With a knife I cut away much of the long, gray skirt of the Waniyanpi garb he wore. I cut the sleeves away, too. Then, with a part of the material, I made a belt. I belted the garment then, tunicwise, about his waist.

"How strong your legs look," said the girl, softly, admiringly, looking up at him, "and your arms!"

"You are permitting her to speak?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Very well," I said.

The girl put down her head, smiling. Whether or not she would be permitted to speak had been discussed.

"The camp is quite close," said Cuwignaka. "Let us be on our way."

"You are welcome to accompany us," I told the young man, "and you may, if you wish, bring the female."

"I want to bring her," he said.

"Very well," I said.

Again the girl smiled. It had been explicitly discussed, whether or not she would be brought with us.

"I will conceal, as I can, the signs of our encampment," said Cuwignaka.

"I willload the travois," I said.

"Are you truly a slave--Mira," asked the girl.

Mira cast a glance at me.

"You may respond," I told her.

"Yes, I am a slave," said Mira, "totally."

"What was he doing to you, before?" asked the girl.

"You watched?" asked Mira.

"Yes," said the girl.

"he was enjoying me and using me as what I am, a slave," she said.

"Are you embarrassed?" asked the girl.

"No," said Mira. "A slave is not permitted modesty."

"You seemed ecstatic with pleasure, overcome with gratitude and joy," said the girl.

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"It was my yielding," she said.

"Need you have yielding like that?" asked the girl.

"Yes," said Mira. "The slave is given no alternative other than to yield to the master fully."

"But you would want to yield like that, wouldn't you?" asked the girl.

"Yes," said Mira.

"Then the slave is forced to do what she, in her most secret heart, most deeply desires to do," said the girl.

"Yes," said Mira. "But you must understand that a slave's lot is not an easy one. We are often worked long and hard."

"But is there now a pleasure in such a service?" asked the girl.

"At one time I would not have thought so," said Mira, "but I know now, now that I am an owned slave, that there is."

"How must a slave act?" asked the girl. "What must a slave do?"

"We are to be absolutely docile, totally obedient and fully pleasing," said Mira.

"Horrifying!" said the girl.

"Perhaps," laughed Mira.

"And what if you are not?" asked the girl.

"But we are," laughed Mira. "The masters see to it."

"but what if you rebel?" asked the girl.

"Only stupid girls rebel," said Mira, "and they are soon taught its uselessness."

"But can you not even protest?" asked the girl.

"We may protest, of course, if the masters see fit to permit it," said Mira, "but then, when we are finished, our discipline is reimposed upon us, perhaps even more severly."

"Discipline?" breathed the girl.

"Yes," said Mira, "the slave girl is subject to discipline and punishment. She is owned, like a sleen or tarsk is owned. She is owned, literally owned. You must understand that in its full sense. Accordingly, anything may be done with her that the master wishes. She may even be slain, if the master wishes."

"Then the slave girl is totally helpless," said the girl. "She is totally at the mercy of the master."

"Yes," said Mira.

"I would like that," said the girl.

"Oh?" asked Mira.

"Are you happy?" asked the girl.

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"Yes," said Mira, "incredibly so."

"Do you not desire freedom?" asked the girl.

"The only freedom I would now desire," said Mira, "would be the freedom to be totally a slave."

"I have so much love in my," said the girl, "I, too, would be a slve."

"But you have no master," said Mira, smiling.

"Stand," I said to Mira.

She struggled to her feet.

I unbound her hands and put the thongs in my belt. She then knelt before me and kissed my feet.

"What are you doing?" asked the girl.

"I am kissing the feet of he who is to be as my master," said Mira.

The young girl rose to her feet and went and knelt before the young man.

"What are you doing!" he cried, startled.

"I am kissing your feet," she said.

"That is a slave's act!" he cried.

She lifted her head, proudly, definatly. "Yes!" she said.

He shrank back, frightened. "We are Sames," he said.

"No," she said, "we are not. You are a man and I am a woman."

"No," he cried. "No!"

"I would be a slave," she said.

"No, no," he cried. "No!"

"Do I displease you?" she asked. "Am I not attractive? Am I not desireable? Am I not beautiful? Do you, truly, not wish to own me?"

"Of course I want to own you!" he said. "JUt to look at you is to want to own you! For years I have wanted to own you!"

"Own me," she said.

He cried out in misery and bent over, clenching his fists.

"What is wrong?" she asked.

"It is the thought of owning you," he said. "It is so over whelming. It would mean such power, such joy!"

"Own me," she said.

He looked down at her, trembling.

"There is something to be said for the idea." I said, "particularly if you are not going to leave her behind."

He looked at me, puzzled.

"She is a white female," I said. "Few white females, if any, in the Barrens are free. We are going to an encampment of

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red savages. She is attractive. If you do not want to enslave her, I have little doubt but what someone else will do so."

He looked down at her.

I went to the travois and freed the coil of narrow, braded rawhide rope I had used for Mira's collar. I cut off a suitable piece. I then replaced the balance of the rope on the travois, securing it in place.

"Stand," he said to the girl. She stood.

I handed him the length of rope. He stood there, looking at her, the rope in his hands.

"You understand, do you not," I asked the girl, "the meaning of this?"

"Yes," she said.

"You may freely enter into the state of bondage," I told her, "but you may not freely leave it. This thing, once it is done to you, is, on your part, irreversible. It is not then within your power to break, alter or amend it in any way. You will then, you see, no longer be a free person, but only a slave."

"I understand," she said. She then turned to the young man. "I am ready," she said. "Make me a slave."

He then looped the dark, narrow, braided rawhide rope three times about her neck. He adjusted it so that it was snug and not too tight, and the ends were even. He then tied the two loose ends together, closing the collar. He jerked the two loose ends, sharply, snapping them in contrary directions, making the knot tight. A narrow, inverted triangle of flesh showed between the first two coils of the collar, wrapped closely about her neck, and the knot. He released the two loose ends of the collar, below the knot, and they fell lightly, dangling, as was the case with Mira's collar, between her breasts. The subtle touch of the leather on the breasts of a slave can be useful to a slave, particularly when she is naked, reminding her that she is a slave. Also, as I have suggested, they provide a convenient, short leash wherewith one might drag her about and control her, as one pleases. The collar, as ws the case with Mira's, would serve not only to mark the girl as a slave but, in its way, would distinguish her from the common properties of the red savages, whose collars are usually of beaded leather. It is natural that the young man, whose experiences in such matters were limited, should follow the general collar design I had used with Mira. I had no objection. Indeed, It seemed approapriate that both girls, both former Waniyanpi girls, should be simiarly collared. I would

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later explain to him the identifacatory aspects of the collar, and he might then, if he wished, change it, or personalize it in some way, perhaps with a special knot, tag or ornament. On the other hand, too, if he wished to leave it as it was, I had no objection. Both we and the girls, and soon so, too, would others, well understood the bondage relations in which they stood.

"She is a pretty slave," I said.

Then they were in one another's arms. "I have always wanted to own you!" he cried, his voice rich, husky and wild.

"Any man may now own me," she said, "for I am a slave, but it is you who do own me! It is you who do own me!"

"I love you," he cried, crushing her to him.

"And I love you, my Master," she cried. "I love you, my Master!"

"I must have her," cried the young man to us. "I cannot wait. Go on without us!"

"We can wait," I said.

He then lowered the naked, collared slave, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so helpless, so tremulous, so eager, so ready, so loving, to the grass. "I am so happy!" she said. "I am so happy!"

"The camp," said Cuwignaka, "is just over this rise."

Cuwignaka and I trudged upward, through the grass. It was late afternoon.

Behind us, some fifty yards, came the travois. The young lad who had been once of the WAniyanpi had inisisted on helping to draw it. We had rigged a center trace. He now drew it, flanked on either side, also in harness, by a femlae slave, Mira on his right and the blond girl, who also had been once of the Waniyanpi, on his left. A man's slave usually heels him, following behind him, or behind him on his left. He had made a tunic for his slave. He had fashioned it for her from her former Waniyanpi garb. It was incredibly short. It was sleeveless. It had a deep, plunging neckline. It, too, was belted tightly, with a belt of rolled cloth, which device served well to accentuate the delicate lineaments of her lovely figure. Such tiny, skimpy garments, so straightfowardly and brazenly revelatory of a woman's beauty, are usually regarded by free women as scandals and outrages. Nonetheless they are the sorts of garments in which a girl, if she is a slave, will come to expect herself to be placed, if she is permitted clothing at all. Indeed, slave girls tend to enjoy such