but also how to remove them provocatively, and gracefully. Even the blankets and sheets we had been given, presumably mostly for warmth, we had to remove in certain fashions that clearly, from a man' s point of view, would have counted as an extremely sensuous disrobing. Then, recollecting that I had been ordered to put it on, I pulled it over my head and put my arms through the straps. In a moment I had drawn it down about me.
'Stand,' he said.
Happily I stood, pulling the garment down more, hastily, modestly, about my thighs. Then I realized, blushing, that doing this must have as its consequences the greater accentuation of my figure.
'Turn,' he said. 'Walk about. Then return and stand before me.' Happily I moved about in the garment.
'Do you not know how to walk?' he asked.
'Forgive me, Master,' I said.
I then walked as a slave, proudly, my shoulders back, gracefully and beautifully, as a woman owned by men. As an Earth female I would never have dared to walk in such a way. Such movements are probably indexed, like physical distances between individuals, to the culture. In Gorean culture, generally, it seemed to me that people stood closer to one another than I was accustomed to on Earth. In this way it was natural for men here, for example, to stand much closer to the scantily clad slave then the average man of, say, northern Europe, on Earth, would be likely to, to a woman of his area. Indeed, he usually stands up and draw her to him, taking her in his arms. The dynamic consequences of these proximities are minimized considerably, of course, by the fact that the slave often kneels in the presence of the free male. It is customary in the kneeling position to remain back a few feet from the male. The kneeling position, itself, expresses the servitude of the slave, and her submission. The distance serves three major purposes. It symbolizes in the distance, as well as in the differential in height, the social inferiority of the slave to the master. It puts the slave in a position where all of her, for the master' s delight, can be seen. A space between the slave and the free male so that the releasing of his rapacity is then likely to require a decision, and is less likely to be simply, reflexively, triggered. This is regarded as being particularly important when the slave is in the presence of a male who is not her master. The kneeling position, thus, interestingly, can occasionally provide a measure of security, if a somewhat tenuous one, for the slave, tending to reduce to some extent the frequency with which, in a culture with such interpersonal proximities, she might otherwise be subjected to unauthorized rape. This same tiny measure of protection, of course, puts her in much greater danger from her real master, for he, observing her, seeing her kneeling beautifully before him, can also delay in his considerations as to her suitable exploitations. How shall he use her? What shall he have her do, and so on. To be sure, sometimes he simply takes her and when he wants her, and almost by reflexive whim. She is his. The main reason why a slave kneels, of course, aside from such subtle and complex considerations, is simply that she is a slave, and that that position, accordingly, is appropriate for her.
I loved the tiny garment! It was the first that I had had since I had come to Gor. In it much of me was still bared, my legs, my hips to the waist, my shoulders, and so on, and it left little doubt about the lineaments of my form, but I loved it. No longer was I absolutely and starkly naked, save for a metal collar. I adjusted the strap on my right shoulder. The small, soft, rounded shoulders of a woman, incidentally, like the rest of a female, Gorean men tend to find very provocative. They seem to relish, and respond to, perhaps to a much greater extent than many of the men of Earth, the entire woman. they are likely to find exciting even such small details of a woman as her delicate ear lobes. That perhaps explains, at least in part, the momentousness of ear piercing to Goreans, which those of Earth take so much for granted. To the Gorean, the piercing of the woman' s ear, with its analog of penetration, and the fixing in it of earrings, chosen by the master, ornamenting her for his pleasure, is an act of power and claimancy scarcely less significant than her branding and collaring. Free women, incidentally, seldom, if ever, bare their shoulders. Doing so is almost like offering themselves for the collar. 'If you would be stripped as a slave, then be a slave,' it is said. Similarly free women on Gor seldom, if ever, wear earrings, either of the natural or of any other variety, such as the clip variety. Earrings are regarded as being fit, rather, for slaves, and usually the lowest of slaves. Nose rings, interestingly, are not regarded in the same light. They are worn even by some free women, I understand, in the far south, the women of the Wagon Peoples there, as well as, generally, by the female slaves of such peoples. In short, Gorean men seem to find the whole woman exciting. To be sure, the shoulders, for example, lead to the delicious curvatures of the breasts, those, too, the property of the master, and thence to the waist and belly, and thighs, and the slave' s helpless, delicate intimacies. The ear lobes, too, lead to the throat, and thence, beneath the collar, to the shoulders, and so on. Similarly, the foot leads to the ankle, and that to the lusciously rounded calf, and that upward to the thighs, and those, again, in their lovely softness, to the girl' s exposed, hot, open, helpless, delicate intimacies. It is not unusual for a Gorean male, in his zest for females, to cover her entire body, bit by bit, with kisses and caresses, moving toward her helplessness. It is not easy to prevent these attentions, either, as you may well imagine, when you have been simply chained down for his pleasure. Sometimes you scream for him to hasten, begging him with every bit of your female helplessness to do so, but he, of course, will do as he pleases, for you belong to him or he has your use, and he is a free male, the master. I returned then to the foot of the dais, to stand there before Hendow, of the tavern of Hendow, on Dock Street, in Brundisium.
'You are very beautiful,' he said.
'Thank you, Master,' I said. I was elated that he had see fit to give me a garment. Too, he had said that I was beautiful. I wondered if he liked me. I wondered if I could use that, and possible manipulate him in some way. I decided I had better not try. He was not a man of Earth. He was a Gorean male.
'Yes,' he said, 'you are very beautiful.'
I felt radiant. I did not think he would hurt me now. I did not know, though. The garment I wore, incidentally, was more modest, in its way, than the garment of red silk I had made for myself on Earth, that which Teibar had thrust in my mouth in the library, showing me that I was forbidden to speak. He had withdrawn it from my mouth only on the library table, when I had lain there before him on my back, before he had put the conical rubberized mask over my face, introducing the chemicals into it which had forced me to lose consciousness, a consciousness I had regained only on Gor, awakening to the blows of his whip.
'Do you like the garment?' he asked.
'Yes, Maser!' I said. 'Yes, Master!'
'Take it off,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' I said, tears in my eyes. I stood then before him again, absolutely and starkly naked, except for a metal collar. I clutched the tiny garment in my hand. He could give me such a garment. He could take it away. I must put it on at his command. I must remove it at his command. I was his. Hendow, of the Tavern of Hendow, on Dock Street, in Brundisium, rose from the great chair. He stood on the dais, looming over me. In his hand he held the whip. I looked at the instrument of discipline, frightened.
He then descended from the dais, and stood near me. I looked straight ahead, clutching the tiny garment. He was huge, next to me. I felt very tiny. He put the coils of the whip under my chin, and pressed up a little. I held my chin up. the nearness of his presence, and his virile, brutish masculinity made me terribly uneasy.
'What is your name,' he asked.
'Whatever Master pleases,' I said, quickly.
I had not yet been named in this house. The words «slut» or «slave» served well enough to summon me. I trembled. I realized I might, in a moment, be named. They that would be who I would be, as simply are that, like any animal. 'Come here,' he said, 'and lie down, on your back, on this step.' He had indicated the second step leading to the height of the dais. I complied. 'Place your left foot on the first step,' he said, 'and put your right foot her, on the third step.'
I did so. This opened my legs.
'Now,' he said, 'put your arms back, over your head.'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'That exposes your armpits,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' I said, puzzled.
He looked down at me. 'What were you called in the house of your training?' he asked.
'Doreen,' I said.
'Very well,' he said, 'you are Doreen.'
'Thank you, Master,' I said, named. This had been my name on Earth. I wore it now, of course, only as a slave name. It could have been anything.
'Doreen,' he said.
