'She is trying,' I said.
'She does not have what it takes,' said Samos.
'Her body is richly curved,' I said. 'That suggests an abundance of female hormones, and that, in turn, suggests the potentialities, the capacities for love, the sensibilities, the dispositions of the pleasure slave.'
'She is not acceptable,' said Samos. 'She is inadequate.'
'She is trying desperately to please,' I said.
'But she is not succeeding,' he said.
'She has a lovely body,' I said. 'Perhaps someone could buy her for a pittance, for a pot girl.'
'She is not adequate,' said Samos. 'I will have to have her destroyed.' He looked back to the board.
I saw several of the slave girls looking fearfully at one another. I to not think that they cared much for their new sister in bondage, the former Lady Rowena of Lydius, who perhaps in some subtle way, perhaps in virtue of her former background, held herself superior to them, but, too, I don nit think they cared to have her thrown alive, screaming, to sleen. She was, after all, now, like the, only a slave. 'Dance, you stupid slave,' hissed one. 'Do you not know you are a slave? Do you not know you are owned?'
A wild look, one of sudden, fearful insight, came over the face of the dancer. She had not thought, specifically, objectively, it seemed, about this aspect of matters. But, of course, she was owned. She was now property. She could now be bought and sold, like a tarsk, at the pleasure of masters.
She belonged to Samos, of course. It had been within the context of his capture rights that she had, as a free woman, of her own free will, pronounced upon herself a formula of enslavement. Automatically then, in virtue of the context, she became his. The law is clear on th is. The matter is more subtle when the woman is not within a context of capture rights. Here the matter differs from city to city. In some cities, a woman may not, with legal recognition, submit herself to a specific man as a slave, for in those cities that is interpreted as placing at least a temporary qualification on the condition of slavery which condition, once entered into, all cities agree, is absolute. In such cities, then, the woman makes herself a slave, unconditionally. It is then up to the man in question whether or not he will accept her as his slave. In this matter he will do as he pleases. In any event, she is by then a slave, and only that.
In other cities, and in most cities, on the other hand, a free woman may, with legal tolerance, submit herself as a slave to a specific man. If he refuses her, she is then still free. If he accepts her, she is then, categorically, a slave, and he may do with her as he pleases, even selling her or giving her away, or slaying her, if he wishes. Here we might note a distinction between laws and codes. In the codes of the warriors, if a warrior accepts a woman as a slave, it is prescribed that, at least for a time, an amount of time up to his discretion, she be spared. If she should be the least bit displeasing, of course, or should prove recalcitrant in even a tiny way, she may be immediately disposed of.
It should be noted that this does not place a legal obligation on the warrior. It has to do, rather, with the proprieties of the codes. If a woman not within a clear context of rights, such as capture rights, house rights, or camp rights, should pronounce herself slave, simpliciter, then she is subject to claim. These claims may be explicit, as in branding, binding and collaring, or as in the uttering of a claimancy formula, such as 'I own you,' 'You are mine,' or 'You are my slave,' or implicit, as in, for example, permitting the slave to feed from your hand or follow you.
'Dance, fool!' cried one of the slave girls to the former Lady Rowena of Lydius.
'See the free woman!' laughed one of the slaves. 'It is the sleen for her,' said another.
'Please men!' cried another. 'What do you think you are for?'
'Like this!' cried a brunette, leaping away from the tables to the tiles, tearing away her silk.
'Do not interfere,' warned a man. The brunette, terrified, seized up her silk, and shrank back behind the tables, into the shadows, where, huddled, knelt the other slaves.
She who had been the Lady Rowena fell sobbing to her knees, helpless on the tiles, covering her face with her hands. The music stopped.
'You are cruel, all or you!' cried out Linda, the blond Earth-girl slave of Samos, springing to her feet. All eyes turned towards her. 'You put us in collars! You take away our clothes! You make us serve you! You do with us as you please!' She looked beautiful, in her brief tunic, barefoot, her body filled with passion, her small fists clenched, in her collar.
'And you love it!' laughed a man.
'Yes!' she cried. 'I love it! You cannot know how I love it! I come from a world where there are almost no true men, a world where manhood is almost educated and conditioned out of existence. I come from a world of love-starved women. I did not know what true men were until I came to Gor, and was put in a collar! Here I am disciplined and trained, here I am owned and fulfilled! Here I am happy! I pity even my free sisters of Gor, who are so far above me, for they cannot know the overwhelming joys and fulfillments which are mine, and I pity a thousand times more my miserable free sisters of Earth, so far away, longing for their collars and masters!'
There was silence. She hurried to the side of the girl kneeling on the tiles. She crouched beside her, putting her arm about her shoulders. She then looked at us. 'But this is only a poor slave,' she said. 'She is ne2 to her condition. She is trying to please. It is just that she does not yet know how. Please be kind to her. Give her some time. Let her learn. Is she not beautiful? Do you not think she could learn to be pleasing? Show her mercy!'
It was then again silent.
Numbly, Linda rose to her feet and walked back about the tables. She knelt behind our table, her head down.
'With your permission,' I said to Samos. I rose to my feet and went to the girl, now prone, red-eyed, on the tiles. I crouched down beside her.
'Oh!' she cried.
I turned her over, handling her with authority, as a slave is handled.
She looked up at me.
Never before, doubtless, had she been handled like this. 'Her face is beautiful,' I said, 'her body is curvaceous, her limbs are fair. It seems she should bring a good price.'
She gasped, appraised as a female.
'But what is inside a woman is more important,' said a man.
'That is true,' I said. Some of the most succulent and exciting slaves I had known were, I suppose, at least compared with some of their sisters in bondage, comparatively plain in appearance. Such women constitute marvelous bargains in a slave market. They cost far less than m any of their higher-priced sisters and yet, in the long run, are worth far more. Many men, upon returning home, thinking they have bought an average girl within their means, discover instead, to their delight, that they have purchased a dream. To be sure, the matter is complicated. Slavery, for example, marvelously, subtly, tends to bring out the beauty in a woman. Many women, after a year or two in bondage, become so beautiful that they can double or triple their price.
'Men desire women,' I told her.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'And you belong to that sex,' I said, 'which is maddeningly, exquisitely desirable.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
And you are,' I said, 'I think, objectively, a beautiful member of that sex.'
'Thank you, Master,' she whispered.
'It therefore seems not inconceivable that men might find you desirable.'
'Yes, Master,' she whispered.
'Does that please you?' I asked.
'It terrifies me,' she said.
'Do you have normal feelings toward men?' I asked.
'I think so, Master,' she said.
'Now that you are a slave,' I said, 'it is not only permissible for you to yield to these feelings, but you must do so.'
'Master!' she whispered.
'Yes,' I said, 'for you are now a slave.'
'Yes, Master,' she whispered, shuddering.
'That makes quite a difference, doesn't it?' I asked.
