Players of Gor (34 page)

"I see," she said.

"We must soon return to our camp," said Boots, his fist in the bent-over Lady Telitsia's hair.

"Surely you will remove my fetters at least to permit me to walk to your camp," suggested my captive.

I saw that she wanted the fetters off. I wondered if this was because she desired to escape, or if she wished to be caressed.

"Otherwise," she said, "I fear the journey will be both lengthy and painful. I do not even know if I can stand in them."

"You can stand in them," I said. "It is only that it would be difficult to move in them without falling."

"I see," she said.

"You could always crawl," I said, "dragging yourself forward, say, on your hands or elbows."

"Perhaps if your camp is close, I might, dragging myself through the underbrush, arrive there by morning."

"Perhaps," I said.

"If I did not get lost, or fall to sleen," she said.

"Perhaps," I speculated.

"Doubtless you will now, for your convenience, remove them," she said.

"No," I said.

"I do not understand," she said.

"They were not put on you to be removed so soon," I said.

"How then shall I get to your camp?" she asked, apprehensively.

"I have another mode of transportation in mind for you," I said, "a mode which I trust you will find instructive."

"No!" she begged.

"Yes," I said.

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"Head forward," she pleaded.

"No," I said, "you shall be carried to the camp on my shoulder, your hands tied, your ankles helpless in their fetters."

"My head forward," she begged.

"No," I said, "to the rear."

"As a slave!" she cried, angrily.

"Yes," I said.

"Even she there, she who is naked and bound, she who is a true slave, is permitted to walk!"

"I do not think you will long envy her," I said.

Lady Telitsia, now a slave, whimpered, frightened.

"You treat me as a slave," said my captive. "Perhaps you will soon make me a slave!"

"Perhaps," I said.

"Your eyes rove me brazenly, I note," she said, angrily, "as though I might be a slave."

"Yes," I admitted. To be sure, she was quite beautiful. I had no doubt but what she might, if collared and trained, and brought into touch with her feelings, prove to be not only an adequate slave, but perhaps even a quite marvelous one.

"You said," she said, "that you would get me something else to wear."

"Have no fear," I said. "I shall."

"Let us be on our way," said Boots.

I scooped up the woman and threw her over my shoulder, her head to the rear. She was not heavy. I looked out, into the shadows of the woods. I did not think she would be likely to forget this nocturnal journey, being carried helplessly through the darkness into captivity.

"Back at the fair," said Boots to me, "as I recall, you expressed your eagerness to join our company."

"yes," I said.

"As I recall, as well," said he, "you were willing to work without pay."

"True," I grinned.

"That seems a suitable arrangement from my point of view." said Boots.

"Boots," warned Andronicus, sternly.

"But, of course, even though it might be difficult, we shall struggle to manage some small remuneration-somehow," Boots assured me.

"Thank you," I said.

"It is nothing," said Boots, generously.

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"And if you are not careful, it will be," said Chino, cheerfully.

Boots then set off confidently through the woods.

"Your camp," I said to him, "is more to the right. That's it."

Boots led the way, Lady Telitsia stumbling along, bent over, held, beside him, in approximately the right direction. He was followed by his fellows, carrying various articles taken from the brigands' camp. I then brought up the rear, on my shoulder the Lady Yanina.

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10
   
A Pleasant Morning in Camp; The Lady Yanina Will Obey

 
"Are you comfortable, Lady Telitsia?" asked Boots.

"Yes," she said. She knelt, her wrists tied together over her head, fastened by a short strap to a transversely mounted, sturdy wooden bar. It was about five feet from the ground. It was the morning after he had acquired her.

"Surely you are bluffing, and you have no intention of going through with this," she said. She was naked, except for a collar. The legend on the collar said, "If you find me, return me to Boots Tarsk-Bit. Reward." It was the same collar as was worn by Boots's other girls. He had put it on her immediately after returning to the camp last night. He had then chained her in the girl wagon, on one of the open, steel-floored, steel-sided kennels, and retired. This morning, early, he had dragged her forth and bound her in her present position. He had then h ad a large breakfast. Doubtless she was quite hungry. Still she had not yet been fed. That was just as well, considering what was to be done to her.

Boots shook out the blades of a five-stranded Gorean slave ship.

"As I recall," said Boots, "you said, at the fair, that you were not afraid of men."

She was silent.

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"How proudly you said that," marveled Boots, swinging the freed lash blades loosely. "To be sure, at that time, you probably had never had any reason to be afraid of men. Now that you are a slave, however, you will find that you do have reason, and ample reason, and not only to fear men, but, indeed, any free person."

"I am hungry," she said. "Am I to be fed?"

"Perhaps when you learn to beg for it," he said.

"Never," she said.

"Did you enjoy your night in the girl wagon?" he asked.

"No," she said. "The steel was cold. I did not even have a rag to put between myself and the steel."

"To be sure, the nights are chilly," said Boots.

"I would like to have a blanket in the future," she said.

"There might be a shred of a blanket somewhere about," said Boots. "Perhaps you could beg for it."

"Never," she said.

"I gave you some time last night, while you were chained in the girl wagon," said Boots, "to consider your up-coming beating this morning. Did you give it much thought?"

"No," she said.

"Why not?" asked Boots.

"You would not dare to beat me," she said.

"Why not?" asked Boots, eager to be informed.

"Because of the kind of person I am," she said. "I am above being beaten. That is for low females."

"Such as slaves?" asked Boots.

"Yes," she said.

"I see," said Boots.

"As it turns out," she said, "I am right."

"How is that?" asked Boots.

"If you were going to beat me," she said, "you would have already done so by now."

"I have been giving my breakfast some time to digest," said Boots. "I would not wish to upset my stomach."

"Of course not," she said, ironically.

"But now," said Boots, "I think I will be all right."

"What?" she asked, half turning about.

"You have been a nuisance, Lady Telitsia," he said. "I think I will very much enjoy whipping you."

"You're serious!" she suddenly said, alarmed.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Wait!" she said, twisting in the ropes. "I am prepared to

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admit that in some legal sense I am a slave, and that I am theoretically subject to such things!"

"Very much more so than theoretically, my dear," said Boots.

"But I am too refined, too sensitive to be whipped!"

"Nonsense," said Boots.

"It is inappropriate to whip me," she said. "I am a lady of quality."

"You are only another slave," said Boots.

"Wait!" she cried.

"What now?" asked Boots, impatiently.

"I am bound," she wept, twisting in the ropes. "I am naked. I am tied in such a way that I cannot protect myself. I am exposed helplessly, utterly, to your mercy."

"Of course," said Boots.

"But it will hurt," she said.

"Have you ever felt the whip?" asked Boots.

"No!" she said.

"Then how do you know it will hurt?" he asked.

"I have seen girls beaten," she said.

"Perhaps it does not hurt much," said Boots. He himself, of course, earlier, at her instigation, when she was a free woman, had been flogged at the fair. This turnabout then must have been extra delicious for him, in addition to the simple, straightforward pleasure of giving her a good beating. To be sure, Boots had been beaten with a heavy whip, of the sort used on men, whereas she would find herself under only the familiar, common five-stranded Gorean salve lash. Still it is not without reason that that implement is much favored on Gor for the disciplining of females. Without permanently marking the girl it punishes with excruciating, terrible efficiency. The mere sight of wsuch a whip generally inspires terror in any female who has ever felt it.

"Do not whip me!" she cried. "It is not necessary! I admit that I am a slave! I am a slave! I will even obey!"

"Prepare to be beaten," said Boots.

"Mercy!" she cried.

"To quote someone I once heard at the fair," said Boots, "I do not choose to show you mercy."

The bound female groaned, hearing her own words.

"Prepare," said Boots.

"No! No!" she cried, springing to her feet, her bare feet raising dust, her bound wrists, of course, still tethered to the bar.

"Back on your knees, Lady Telitsia," said Boots, sternly, "or you will add blows to your beating."

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Lady Telitsia, in misery, moaning, trembling, sank back to her knees, her wrists again now over her head.

"Would you like me to cross and bind your ankles?" Boots asked, kindly.

"No," she moaned.

I think she could see the shadow of Boots before her. Her back was illuminated by the morning sun.

"I do not want to be whipped!" she cried.

"It will be good for you to be whipped," said Boots. "It will be good for you to know what it is like. It will help you to understand that you are now truly a slave. Too, it will help to make you a more diligent slave, one more anxious to please."

"Mercy!" she wept.

" 'Slaves,'" said Boots, " 'are to be shown no mercy'. I heard someone say that, also, recently, at the Fair of En'Kara. Perhaps you recall it?"

She sobbed, helpless in the ropes, awaiting her beating.

"Slaves are to be shown no mercy," she had said a few days ago at the fair. I recalled it. How uncompromisingly, how coldly, she had said it. Now she herself was a slave.

"Do you recall saying that?" asked Boots.

"Yes," she sobbed.

"Is it true?" asked Boots.

"Yes," she wept.

He then struck her, once, with the lash. She cried out, startled, in pain, in disbelief.

"Yes, what?" he asked.

"Yes, Master!" she cried.

he then struck her again. "No, no!" she cried out. "Please do not strike me again, Master!"

"It will be done with you as your Master pleases," he said.

"Yes, Master!" she sobbed.

He then, with a few blows, concluded her beating. It was neither a long nor a severe beating. Still he had placed the blows diversely and had varied their timing. It was in its way a kindly beating, as Boots was a kindly fellow, but it was also, I think, an efficient beating.

When Boots had finished he untied the strap that had fastened her bound wrists to the wooden bar. She fell to her belly in the dust and reached out, her wrists still bound, to touch his ankles. She put down her head and, lying in the dust before him, pressed her lips, those of a slave, again and again, piteously, to his feet. Boots then turned away and went about this business. She then lay on her belly in the dust, collapsed, near the wooden bar to

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which she had been tied for her beating. I went to her and turned her over with my foot. She looked up at me. She was in misery and in pain.

"You are branded," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You wear a collar," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"What are you?" I asked.

"I am a female slave," she said, "a slave girl."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said. "Only that."

"It is true," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.