Vagabonds of Gor (54 page)

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Authors: John Norman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Action & Adventure, #Adventure

BOOK: Vagabonds of Gor
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"Do not be angry," I said. "Slaves are sometimes used for such purposes, to content a fellow while he considers more important matters."

 

"Then I was used as might have been a slave!" she said.

 

"As a slave might sometimes be used," I said.

 

"I see," she said.

 

"Surely you do not regard that as inappropriate," I said.

 

"Oh!" she said, angrily.

 

She struggled.

 

She could not free her wrists.

 

"But I assure you," I said, "you have on the whole, as yet, been a free woman, very little understanding of what it might be to be subjected to slave use."

 

She shrank down in the sand, looking up at me, frightened.

 

"No," I said.

 

"So much they are at the mercy of their masters?" she said.

 

"Totally," I said.

 

"Good," she said.

 

"What?" I asked.

 

"Good," she said. "They are slaves. That is as it should be. It matters not!"

 

I laughed softly to myself. Did she not know that she, too, could become a slave, that she, too, could have such obediences and helplessnesses imposed upon her?

 

She turned her head to the side. "I wonder if you are paying me any attention now," she said, poutingly.

 

"Look up at me," I said. She did so.

 

"Oh!" she said.

 

"Yes," I said. "I am paying you attention now. Too, you are now well worth watching."

 

" 'Worth watching'!" she said.

 

"Of course," I said. "You are very beautiful, your movements, your expressions, and such."

 

"Then some men do pay attention to the women they do these things to," she said.

 

"Certainly," I said. "Almost invariably."

 

"Oh! Oh!" she said.

 

"See?" I said.

 

"You give me such pleasure," she whispered.

 

"You look well, bound," I said.

 

"Surely you jest," she said, "in speaking of taking me among the men of Ar."

 

"No," I said.

 

"Then it is truly your intention to take me among them?" she asked.

 

"Yes," I said.

 

I continued to attend to her.

 

"I do not wish to go among them!" she said.

 

"I do not blame you," I said.

 

"It will be extremely dangerous," she said.

 

"I do not think they will see the Lady Ina in a small, well-curved, half-naked rence girl, in slave strips, perhaps bound."

 

"Let us run away, together," she said. "They need never know."

 

"No," I said.

 

"I will try to be very pleasing to you," she said.

 

"You will be that way anyway," I said. She looked up at me.

 

"And if you were a slave," I said, "for that hint of bargaining, you would be severely beaten, if not slain."

 

"I am not a slave!" she said.

 

"And that is why I do not now severely beat you, or slay you," I said.

 

"Then my will means nothing!" she said.

 

"That is exactly correct," I said.

 

I then began to once more conduct her to the heights. To be sure, her entire demeanor was now half in consternation, and shaken with the import of my intentions.

 

"How can you do this to me," she asked, "forcing me to feel these things, after what you have told me?"

 

"I am not yet through with you," I said.

 

"Ohhh," she said. "Ohhh!"

 

"See?" I said.

 

"You are pretty, Ina," I said.

 

"A girl is pleased!" she said, bitterly.

 

"Are you being impertinent?" I asked.

 

"No!" she said.

 

"I thought that perhaps you were," I said.

 

"No!" she said.

 

"Perhaps you wish to be lashed with my belt?"

 

"No, no!" she said. "Who is pleased?" I asked. "Ina is pleased!" she said. "You say that well, Ina," I said. She looked up at me. "Repeat it," I said.

 

"Ina is pleased," she said.

 

"I like the name 'Ina' on you," I said.

 

" 'On me'?" she said.

 

"Yes," I said.

 

"You speak of it as though it were a brand," she said.

 

"More in the nature of a collar," I said.

 

"A collar?" she said.

 

"Yes," I said. "Collars can be changed."

 

" 'Ina' is not a slave name," she said. "It is my own name, in my own right! I am a free woman! It is my own name, in my own right! It is not a slave name!"

 

"But if you become a slave," I said, "you would have no name."

 

She looked at me.

 

"Is that not true?" I asked her.

 

"Yes," she said. "That is true."

 

"And then," I said, "if a master wished, he might name you, say, 'Ina'."

 

"Of course," she said.

 

"What would your name then be?"

 

" 'Ina'," she said.

 

"And would it be your true name?" I asked.

 

"Yes," she said.

 

"But it would then be only a slave name, would it not?" I asked.

 

"Yes," she said. I regarded her, amused.

 

"Yes," she said. "Then it would be only a slave name!"

 

"Oh!" she said. "Stop! Stop! I am there! I am frightened! I dare go no further!"

 

"But you shall," I said.

 

"Whip me!" she said.

 

"That will not be necessary," I said.

 

"I dare not go even a hair's breadth further," she whispered.

 

"Have no fear," I said. "The choice is no longer yours."

 

"Whose then?" she asked.

 

"Mine," I said.

 

"Yours?"

 

"Yes," I said. "When it pleases me, in a moment, I shall force you."

 

"I am at your mercy," she said.

 

"Yes," I said.

 

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked.

 

"It pleases me," I said. "Too, I think it would be good for you, particularly now, as you are soon to be taken among the men of Ar, to discover what men can do to you."

 

She pushed back a little, in the sand. This amused me. Did she think she could escape? "I am afraid," she said.

 

"Women survive such things," I assured her.

 

"I am bound!" she said.

 

"Do not fret," I said.

 

"Beast, beast, beast!" she said.

 

"And you are now to discover what it is to be a pretty little female beast," I said.

 

"Do it to me!" she begged. "No, don't!"

 

I regarded her.

 

"I am at a gate," she said. "I am on a bridge! I am on a mountain. There are flowers. I am on a cliff! I am afraid!"

 

I looked at her. She was very beautiful.

 

"Have mercy!" she said. "Let me go back!"

 

"No," I said. "You will not be permitted to go back."

 

"Let me stay where I am then!" she wept.

 

"Surely you understand that that is impossible," I said.

 

"Whip me, then!" she said. "Drag me in a collar and chains, like a slave girl!"

 

"Your touch!" she wept.

 

"I am now forcing you to go where I have decided you shall go," I said, "where it is my wish that you shall go."

 

"No!" she said.

 

"And where, too, it is your wish to go," I said.

 

"No!" she said.

 

"Your touch," she wept. "Your touch!"

 

"No," she wept. "No!"

 

"Your plaints are meaningless," I said.

 

"Your touch," she cried. "Please stop!"

 

"I am taking you there," I said, "whether you wish it or not."

 

"No!" she wept.

 

"You have no choice," I said.

 

"No!" she cried.

 

"You might as well be driven with a whip," I said. "You might as well be being dragged in a collar and chains. You might as well be a slave girl."

 

"Aiii!" she cried, head back, eyes closed, hair about, rearing up, twisting, thrashing in the sand. Then she was looking at me, wildly.

 

She tried to press against me.

 

"I am bound and helpless!" she wept. "Hold me! Hold me, tightly! Take me in your arms. I beg it!"

 

I took her in my arms, as she wished. I could feel her heart beating wildly.

 

"I did not know it could be like that," she said. "I could not believe it."

 

"Such things," I said, "are only the first horizons, of an infinite number of possible horizons."

 

She pressed herself desperately against me, sobbing.

 

"You are a woman," I said.

 

"I have no doubt of that now," she said. I kissed her.

 

"I did not know being a woman could be anything like that," she said. "How precious is my sex! How wonderful it is! I love it! Now I never want to be anything else!"

 

I kissed her again.

 

"But I have these terrible and frightening thoughts," she said. "Now I want to love and serve men!"

 

"They are not such terrible thoughts," I said.

 

"And I dare not tell you the other thought that cries out within me!"

 

"It is that you sense now that you are owned by men, and wish to belong to them," I said.

 

She cried out, wildly, shuddering.

 

"Rest now," I said. "I must do some hunting and then we will go to the camp of the men of Ar."

 

I then gently rose to my feet. I regarded her there in the sand, naked, her hands bound behind her, the strap from the raft running to the improvised, buckled collar on her throat, which, as tether, would keep her in the vicinity of the raft. She was looking at me, in consternation, in awe. I think she was still trying to cope with the feelings she had felt, with the insights she had obtained.

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