The term "slave paces" refers to a series of positions and attitudes a slave is put through, usually in rapid succession, in order to display her. mara certainly cannot describe "slave paces" better than Master Norman so she is simply going to offer out some quotes on this subject for you to better understand the
"I am going to put this one through slave paces," said the man who was near Lydia.
He then began to issue a set of rapid commands to Lydia, almost as quickly as the trainers in the house had accustomed Ellen to respond. Lydia complied as well as she could, chained, and on cement, Slave paces are much more easily performed on a smooth surface, or on furs at the feet of a master's couch, such places. Sometimes they are performed on a rug, say, a Tahari rug, before the master who, seated, observes, or perhaps in the center of a rug, for the interest of the master's encircling guests. In such cases, often the paces are not called, but performed silently, save perhaps for small gasps and
moans, by the slave.
:"Yes, she is vital," said Targo. "Hold position," he warned Cotina.
"Master!" wept Cotina.
"Hold position," he said."
~Prize of Gor, pages 247 and 248~
"Stand!" said the merchant. "Head back!
Hands behind head! Bend backwards! Farther! Farther!" He turned to us.
"Acceptable," he said. Then to the girl he issued orders, rapidly, harshly. I watched, with interest, as the girl, tears in her eyes, responded to his swiftly
issued, abrupt commands.
For more than four Ehn he put her through a swift, staccato regimen of movement, a set of slave paces, assessment paces, designed to exhibit, vulnerably, decisively and publicly, her beauty, in all of it major attitudes and positions. "Hands on hips! Be insolent! Hands behind back!
shouts: Hands crossed before you, as though bound! Hands at throat, as though chained to collar, fingers before mouth! Fall to the floor! Kneel! Head down! Head up! Bend backwards! Farther! Roll to the floor, on your side, on your back, right leg high, now flexed, left leg high, now flexed, to your side, right leg extended, palms on floor, left leg extended, palms on floor!
Appear angry! Appear frightened! Appear aroused! Smile!" He did this with the same swift, expert objectivity, and clinical detachment, that a physician might bring to a routine medical examination; this examination, of course, was a beauty examination, assessing the desirability of a female slave. The whip cracked again. She cried out in misery, shuddering."
Tribesmen of Gor, page 155
"On your belly, little Dina," he said. "Let us interest the buyers."
"Yes, Master," I said.
I fell upon my belly at his feet, awaiting his commands. I looked up, terrified, afraid that he might strike me with the whip. I lay there for a long moment. He did not strike me. The crowd was amused at my terror.
"You will be prompt, obedient and beautiful, 128," said the auctioneer to me, softly. "Yes, Master," I said. Then, suddenly, snapping the whip, he said, harshly, "On your back, one knee lifted, the other leg extended, hands over your head, wrists close, as though confined in slave bracelets." I complied.
Then he began to put me rapidly through the paces of the exhibited female slave; he held me in each position for the sweet instant that well revealed me, tantalizingly, in that attitude or posture, and then barked forth a new command, to a new position or attitude;
the sequence of these moves was not an accident; each move followed easily, sometimes by a roll or turn, from the preceding position; shrewd rhythm and flow, calculated and sensual, physically melodious, characterized the performance humiliatingly inflicted upon me;
I must submit to the choreography of slave display; I, who had been Judy Thornton, a girl of Earth, was put through Gorean slave paces; then I lay on my belly at his feet, as I had begun; I was trembling; I was covered with sweat; my hair was loose about my head and eyes; I felt the auctioneer’s foot upon my body; I put my head to the block.
"What am I bid?" he called.
~Slave Girl of Gor, page 288~
"Put her through her paces!" called a man. "Let us see what she can do!" called another.
The auctioneer shook out the coils of the whip. He then, rapidly, loudly, clearly, in a seris of orders, sometimes cracking the whip, commanded the girl, one by one, swiftly to assume an intriately patterened series of postures and attitudes. Seldom, I think in so brief a compass could a woman be displayed so fully as a female.
He then cracked his whip and ordered her to stand straight upon the platform, sucking n her gut. She was breathing heavily; there were tears in her eyes; she was trembling; she was covered with sweat and saw-dust. He had permitted her no respite or quarter. The buyers now well understood the nature of the goods on which they were bidding."
~Rogue of Gor, page 83~
from Kajira of Gor , pages 207 - 286:
“Remove your silk,” he said.
I did so.
“Kneel,” he said.
I did so.
Straighten your body,” he said.
I did so. I knelt naked before Miles
of Argentum, before his thronelike chair, on the tiles in his quarters, in
“Your knees,” he said.
I spread my knees even more widely before
“You are now known as Tiffany, I believe,” he said, “of Feast Slaves, of
the Enterprises of Aemilianus.”
“I am Tiffany,” I said, “of Feast Slaves, of
the Enterprises of Aemilianus.”
I never forget a face,” he said. I was
My entire group had been brought from Ar to Argentum, I thought to
entertain. This had been done at the expense of Miles of Argentum. Furthermore,
much to the surprise and displeasure of the girls, who were perhaps by now
somewhat spoiled, we had been brought under heavy security.
We had never,
from the time we had left the agency in Ar to the time we entered the grounds of
the palace in Argentum, been out of chains of one sort or another. I supposed
that it was only I, of all the girls, and perhaps of all those on the staff of
the agency itself, who suspected the reasons for this trip to Argentum and the
rationale of the security. I did not think Miles of Argentum was particularly
interested in feast slaves, per se. Surely such might be rented in Argentum
itself. I think rather he was interested particularly in one feast slave.
Tonight I had been brought to him, leashed and braceleted. My keeper, a
fellow from the agency, had then, in his quarters, freed me of these bonds and
turned me over to him. He had rented me for the night.
“Thrust out Your
breasts, Tiffany,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said. I lifted and straightened
my back even more, sucking in my gut and putting back my shoulders, this lifting
the softness of my bosom brazenly to him, that of a slave girl, for his
consideration or attentions.
“You are pretty, Tiffany,” he said.
you, Master,” I said.
“I enjoy commanding you,” he said. “Yes, Master,” I
“Are you a good lay, Tiffany?” he asked.
“Sonic men have found me
acceptable, Master,” I said.
“We are going to play a little game, Tiffany,”
“We are going to pretend that you are Sheila, the Tatrix of
Corcyrus,” he smiled.
“But I am Tiffany,” I said, frightened, “of Feast
Slaves, of the Enterprises of Aemilianus!”
“But we are going to pretend,
aren’t we?” he asked.
“As Master wishes,” I said, frightened.
I did so.
“Straighter,” he said.
I straightened up, even
He then, from a chest at the side of the room, fetched forth a lovely,
yellow, silken sheet. This he draped, regally about my shoulders.
you?” he asked.
“Tiffany!” I said. “Tiffany, of Feast Slaves, of the
Enterprises of Aemilianus!”
“But we are playing, aren’t we?” he asked. I
“Now,” said he, “who are you, really?”
“Sheila,” I murmured.
“Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus.”
“I thought so,” he said.
I looked at him
“Sit in the chair,” he said. “I dare not!” I said. The
thought of sitting in such a chair terrified me. It was the chair of a free
person. I was a slave. I might be whipped, or slain, for sitting in such a
chair. The greatest honor I might expect in connection with such a chair was to
be permitted to crouch or lie at its foot, or, perhaps, to be chained by the
neck to its side.
“Is a command to be repeated?” he asked.
“No, Master!” I
said. I hurried to the chair and, small and frightened, sat down within it.
Sit up more straightly, more regally, and put your hands on the arms,” he
Then he came over to the chair and, bending over, care-fully
adjusted the sheet about me. He then stepped back. “Good,” he said. Then he sat,
crosslegged, on the tiles, a few feet from me.
“Yes,” he said. “Good. That is
it.” As he sat, he was below me. The angle would be similar to that which he had
had from the floor of the great hall, or from the lower steps of the dais,
looking up at me on the throne.
“I never forget a face,” he reassured
I was silent.
‘Who are you?” he asked.
“I am Sheila,” I said, “the
Tatrix of Corcyrus.”
“Yes,” he said, “you are.”
He then rose up and
approached. me. He drew away the sheet and folded it, horizontally, again and
again, until it formed, with several folds, a thick, long, narrow band, about
six inches in height and the sheet’s length, about seven feet, in width.
then passed this band about my waist and about the back of the chair. He
then tied me, snugly, back in the chair. He then resumed his place on the
“Yes,” he said, “clearly, at least a silver-tarsk girl.” I recalled
that he had conjectured in the great hall, much to the fury of many of my
retainers, that that might be about my value in a slave market.
He then rose
up, again, and approached the chair. I tried to back, even further, against the
back of the chair. My hands and arms were free but the thick, yellow band,
knotted tightly behind the back of the chair, held me helplessly in
“You are not going to interfere, are you?” he asked.
Then he began to caress me.
“There was quite a search for you,” he
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“It was lucky that I found you in Ar, wasn’t
it?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“It is convenient that the addresses
of many slaves are on their collars,
isn’t it?” he asked. “Yes, Master,” I
“It was thus easy to find you,” he said. “Yes, Master,” I
“What is wrong?” he asked. “Nothing, Master!” I said.
squirming,” he said.
“Yes, Master!” I said.
“Did you have a nice trip
from’ Ar?’ he asked.
“Yes, Master!” I said.
“Were you in chains all the
way?” he asked.
“Yes, Master!” I said tried to hold my body still. I dug my
fingernails into arms of the chair.
“It seems that you have been shorn,” he
“Yes, Master,” I said. “It was done last to me a few months ago by
Borkon, my whip master, in Mill 7, of the Enterprise of Mintar.”
“I see,” he
“Oh,” I sobbed. “Oh!” Then I could no longer control body.
squirming again,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I moaned. I writhed, helplessly,
uncontrollably, held in place by the tight band of the sheet, my finger nails
digging into the arms of the chair.
“You respond like a slave,” he
“Yes, Master!” I said.
“Who are you?’.’ he asked.
said, “Tatrix of Corcyrus!”
“I know,” he said.
I tried to lift my body
more to him, to make it easier him to touch.
“That is enough for now,” he
said. He removed his hands from my body.
I looked at him wildly, piteously,
pleadingly. He must stop now! Surely he knew what he was doing to me.
he said, “Lady Sheila, you are going to be leashed and then you are going to
perform on your leash, and supply, and, after that, you are going to beg to
please me, as a slave.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
He then went to a chest and
from it fetched forth a thick, plain, blackleather collar with a lock closure.
It was a sturdy ring attached to this collar, and, attached to ring, there was a
long slave leash of black leather. It some fifteen feet in length. In most
leadings, of course, this afliount of length would not be used, but would be
coiled in the grasp of the master. The length is useful if the
expected to perform leash dances, is to be bound with the leash, or if, it
doubled at the master’s end, it is to be used to train or discipline her.
sat back in the chair, held helplessly there by the thick bond of the yellow
sheet. I watched him approach, with the collar and leash. He then stopped before
“I am now going to leash you,” he said. “Yes, Master,” I
“Lift up your chin,” be said. “Yes, Master,” I said. I then felt the
high, thick collar put about my neck, over the collar of Aemilianus. I could
feel it snug under my chin. It was then snapped shut.
“You are leashed,” he
said. ‘Yes, Master,” I said.
He then untied the sheet from the chair. I had
not been freed of that bond until after I had been leashed. This sort of thing
is almost second nature with Goreans in the tyings and chainings of slaves. This
is reasonable, I suppose, at least in -many instances, that one security should
be kept in effect until it has been replaced by another. He folded the sheet
twice and dropped it beside the chair.
“What is a woman in a slave leash
doing on such a chair?” be asked.
“Forgive me, Master,” I said. I did not
leave the chair, however. I did not know what he wanted me to do “Slip from the
chair now,” he said, “and go to all fours, and then, in this fashion, crawl ten
feet away, and then turn and, in this fashion, face me.”
I hastened to obey.
Then, in a moment or two, I faced him on all fours, the leash dangling from the
collar, its end, as I had crawled, and turned, in front of me, a few feet from
the foot of the chair. He had now taken his place on the chair. How right he
seemed there, how lordly and masterful.
“You will note,” he said, “that you
wear a common slave leash and collar.
There is nothing unusual or valuable
about them. The collar, for example, is neither set with sapphires nor is it
trimmed with gold. The leash, similarly, is of plain, sturdy material. Both
devices are quite ordinary, but, of course, quite efficient.”
“It amuses me to put you in such common articles,” he said.
Master,” I said.
“You are now going to make as complete a circuit of the room
as is practical,” he said. “You will, where practical, kiss the walls at the
corners, on each side of the corner, about five horts from the corner and about
ten horts from the floor. Where you come to chests or furniture, you will treat
them as extensions of the wall, kissing them at the corners, and so on. You will
then return exactly to your present position.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
may now leave,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said. “Thank you, Master.” I then
began my journey. The kissing of inanimate articles, such as a master’s sandals,
or the tiles on which he has walked, is used in teaching a girl respect and
reverence. There was something of this involved in his command, the having to
kiss the walls of his room, the furniture there, and such, but the form of the
command was presumably motivated primarily by the consideration that compliance
with it would guarantee a full and adequate negotiation of the room’s interior
I was then, after a time, again where I had been before on all
fours, some ten feet from his chair, facing him. The leash, dangling from my
collar, was now trailing behind me, between my legs.
“Lift your head,” he
I did so.
“Come forward five feet,” he said, “and keep your head
“Put your head down,” he said.
belly,” he said.
I went to my belly.
“Up again,” he said, “to all
“Lift your head,” he said.
I did so.
pleasant to have the Tatrix of Corcyrus naked and on my leash,” he
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You may now bring me the end of the leash,”
he said “-in your teeth.”
‘Yes, Master,” I said. I went back to the end of
the leash and, putting down my head, to the tiles, picked it up in my teeth I
then, on all fours, brought it; between my teeth, to Miles of Argentum.
took it from me. I looked up at him, from all fours.
Does Sheila, the Tatrix
of Corcyrus, beg to perform on her leash for Miles, general of Argentum?” he
Yes, Master,” I said.
He stood up, then, and, with a snap,
shook out the leash, and then, looping it drew it back a bit towards him. He
would play it out, or draw it in, as it pleased him, varying his perspective,
and my distance from him, as I squirmed, and writhed and posed, from as little
as an inch or two to the full length of the leash, something in the neighborhood
of a full fifteen feet.
“Perform,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said, and
I performed as excitingly and seductively as possible.
lewdly,” he would sometimes say, “more salaciously, more lasciviously!”
Master!” I would try, and try to please him even more.
He kept me on the
leash for at least twenty Ehn and, in the latter portion of this time, commanded
me. It seemed as if he made me move, and posed me, in almost every way in which
a strong male might desire to see a human female, and I, of course, must conform
perfectly to his wishes on my leash. He even took me about the room and to his
couch. He made me do such things as grind my belly against the wall of the room
and throw myself, on my belly and. back, over the great storage chest, wooden
and iron-banded, at one side of the room. I remember the feel of the wood and
iron. Too, he permitted me, even ordered me, upon his couch, there to continue
my performances. I must first, of course, kneel at the lower left side of the
couch and kiss the covers before being permitted to creep upon it. Then he drew
me from the couch to the floor at its foot, near the slave ring. With one hand
he flung covers to the floor there, on the tiles.
He then pointed to a place
on the tiles, out from the covers but in front of them. “A free person has
walked here,” he said. “Yes, Master,” I said. I then, kneeling, put down my head
and kissed the indicated place three times.
I looked up at him.
here,” he said, indicating a place at his feet. I did so.
“You may now kiss
my feet,” he said.
I did so.
“You may now beg to be used as a slave,” he
said. “I beg to be used as a slave, Master,” I said.
“Lie there,” he said,
indicating a place by the covers, the slave ring, “on your back.”
Master, “ I said.
He then knelt near me, and took the leash and tied about
the slave ring.
He left some four or five feet of lei between the collar ring
and the slave ring.
That would allow him the slack he might need to move me
about if lie with kneeling me, say, with my head down, or throwing me to side or
belly. He then knelt across my body and held my hands, by Wrists, helplessly
down, above and to the sides of my head.
“I greet you, Lady Sheila, Tatrix of
Corcyrus,” he said.
“Greetings, Master,” I said.
attempt to escape,” he said.
I struggled briefly, predictably futilely. “I
cannot escape” I said.
“Are you in the power of a man?” he asked.
Master,” I said.
“Completely?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
are completely in the power of what man?” he ask
“I am completely in the
power of Miles of Argentum” I said.
“Long have I dreamed of having you in my
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Are you the woman who begged to
perform on a leash and then so performed?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I
“You did well,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
recall,” he said, “you also begged, kneeling, and a kissing my feet, to be used
as a slave.”
“Yes, Master,” I said. “It will be done with you as you
requested,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
He then released my
hands and, changing his position, knelt on my right. He then began to
touch me, artfully and deftly. After a moment or two I realized I would not,
eventually, be able to resist him, eyen if he were to give me permission to try.
His hands were sure. He knew what he was doing. It was only a matter of time. I
lay there, helplessly, and felt my slave reflexes beginning to be triggered. I
bit at the covers. I saw that he intended that I would yield to him as a
sobbing, pleading, subdued slave. In this I saw that I was to be given no
“You are very lovely, Lady Sheila,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,”
“And you have the reflexes of a female slave,” he said. “Yes,
Master,” I said. “Thank you, Master.”
I did not think it would be long now. I
suddenly jerked back my body from ‘his touch.
He had made it so sensitive. He
did not cuff me, nor chide me, but, too, he did not give me quarter. He
continued, not hurrying, patiently, relentlessly, with the process of reducing
me to a man-dominated, orgasmic, conquered female slave. He now held me, his
left hand at the small of my back, in place. I wanted only to feel, beggingly,
I cut at the bottom of my chin. dignity of the couch’s
surface I would be had at its foot, by the slave ring.
and was tied to
I gritted my teeth. What men can do to us, I thought, angrily. Then I
Then again, desperately, I strove to resist. The high, black, leather collar I
could feel the tiles beneath the covers. I had not been granted the I squirmed.
I looked at the slave ring. The leash on my. neck ran to it, I was leashed!
felt his hands.
I must resist! I must resist!
“Oh, please, Master,” I
wept, “let me yield to you as a conquered slave!”
“I beg to yield to you!” I
“In time,” he said. “In time.”
The beast! The beast! I would show
him! I would resist him! I would refuse to feel! I would not let him do this to
“Please have pity on me, Master!” I cried. “I acknowledge that I have
been conquered. I am vanquished! I am now yours, and as you want me, as a slave,
fully! I beg now only to be permitted to yield to you abjectly and shamelessly.
Let me tender to you now the helpless surrender of an orgasmic slave!”
was it who cried out so shamelessly, so helplessly and brazenly for a master’s
mercy? And I realized that she who cried out was I. “Please, Master”’ I
whimpered, sobbing, surrendered wholly then one with myself, and. wholly at his
mercy “Please, Master. Please!”
“Does Lady Sheila, the lofty and proud Tatrix
of Corcyrus desire to yield to me as a slave?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I
moaned. “I beg it! I beg it!”
He then entered me suddenly and fiercely.
“Please!” I whispered.
“Not yet,” he said.
After a few
minutes I again begged for his permission to yield. “Not yet,” he said. I
moaned. He, by varying hi rhythms and movements, brought me again and again to
the point of yielding, and then stopped short, letting me go back a greater or
lesser distance, and then bringing me forward, one speed or another, again. In
this he not only showed his power over me but took much pleasure from me.
is pleasant to enjoy the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I
Yet I could not deny that he was forcing me, too, to
experience much pleasure, its nature and amount depended completely on his will.
A quarter of an Ahn must have passed.
Then again, for I do not know what
time, he brought if to a point of almost unbearable tension.
“You may now
yield, Lady Sheila,” he said, “as you have begged, as a slave.”
Master!” I cried, and threw my head back elation and gratitude, and freed myself
of feeling, and, as He mastered me, cried out my slave’s submission to
Afterwards he stood up and looked down, regarding me “It is pleasant to
have had the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said. I lay, had,
at his feet.
He then crouched down, next to me, and rolled me ton stomach. He
then jerked my hands behind my back and casually braceleted me. “You will spend
the night braceleted,” He Informed me. “Yes, Master,” I said. He then shackled
my left ankle and chained me, by means of it, to the slave ring at the foot of
his couch. He then unlocked the leash collar and freed me of it and the leash.
These articles, with the key, he then replaced in one of the chests at the side
of the room. He then took most of the covers and threw them back on the couch.
He did, leave me a sheet on the tiles. I lay on half of it. The other half,
threw over me. He then retired.
Toward morning, in the early
hours, he summoned me to his bed and again made use of me. I knelt beside the
bed, kissed the covers and crawled into it. He knelt me and turned me about, and
pushed my head down. He was quick with me. He was half asleep. I suppose I
should have been grateful that I was permitted the honor of the couch. I do not
think he, half asleep, wished to’ leave it. He did not bother unbraceleting me.
Then, with his foot, when lie was finished, he thrust me from the couch. At the
foot of the couch, on the tiles, with my teeth; I readjusted the sheet about me,
as I could. I then lay there, wideeyed, for a time, not sleeping.
How far I
was from my small apartment, from the perfume counter in the department store on
Long Island. That mercenary little chit was now, on this natural world, a
braceleted slave at the foot of a man’s couch. No longer, now, was she, in the
prerogatives of freedom, permitted to give men nothing, or frustration now she
must serve them with perfection and provide them, to the best of her ability, at
their merest whim, with fantastic pleasures. At least now, I thought, I am good
How casually Miles of Argentum had just used me! But I did not
object, for I was a slave. This form of casual, use, this off-handed employment
of us, while perhaps inappropriate for a free woman, was acceptable for a slave.
We did not have to be the subject of elaborate and tiresome preparations and
pretenses, of complex rituals of attention and respect. We could, at times, be
mere conveniences to the master, and, in this, too, we find something honest,
natural, straightforward and lovely. There are times when the master simply
wants us, and now. At such times, too, as we are slaves, it pleases us to
To be sure, the use to which Miles of Argentum had just subjected me,
and I was well aware of this, had not been merely casual, a simple convenience
use. It had, too, been a spurning use. Though he had not spoken to me, save to
summon me imperiously to him, I had little doubt that he was still thinking of
me in terms of Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus. What a rich joke on the proud
What a splendid lesson for the captured sovereign, to be subjected
to a mere convenience use in the early morning, and then to be spurned to her
place at a slave ring. But even so I did not object. Something in the woman of
me responded to the masterful authority in this treatment. It made clear to me,
once again, the delicious, terrible domination to which I was subject on Gor. I
wanted men to be my superiors and masters, as they were on Gor. I wanted to be
owned by them, as I was on Gor. I wanted to love them, and obey them, as I had
to, without choice, on Gor.
I thought of Miles of Argentum.
he was at teaching a woman her slavery. How well he had put me through my paces
on the leash, and then later in his arms. And, but moments ago, he had simply
ordered me to him and had then, wordlessly, before taking me, positioned me
precisely as he wanted me, my head even down.
I considered my compliance with
his wishes and desires. I had obeyed him perfectly. I would not have dared to do
otherwise, of course. He was not a man of Earth, or a typical man of Earth. He
was a Gorean male. I twisted a bit on the tiles, carefully, so as not to
dislodge the sheet. I moved my wrists a little, they locked helplessly behind my
back in their slave bracelets. bracelets, but I could not, of course, free
How men do with us as they please, I thought. How they master
I pulled for a moment, angrily, futilely, irrationally, against the slave
What a glorious world this is for men, I thought, that here women such as I must
serve and please them !
But then I squirmed with pleasure and joy.
what a glorious world for women, I thought, that here we must so serve and
I felt then the raptures of my bondage, from the tranquilities of
selfless service to the ecstasy of a slave’s sexual surrender to the dominant
male, the master. How perfect I was for bondage; how perfect bondage was for me.
I had been designed by nature for bondage. This was clear in my body, and in my
nature and dispositions. I rejoiced that I had been brought to a world in which
I was free to fulfill, and, in certain circumstances, would have no choice but
to fulfill, this implicit destiny. Here, on Gor, there were none of the
confusions, the denials, the lies and ambiguities of Earth; here there was
clarity, structure and truth. Here civilization did not war with nature; here
slaves were slaves, and masters masters. Here I would be what I was, and without
compromise, a slave.
I did not object. Rather was I thrilled with this, as
Iliad now learned, my natural
I was frightened of Miles of
“Miles of Argentum,” I laughed, “when he saw me in Corcyrus, thought I would
bring a whole silver tarsk! He, then, too had only seen me fully clothed, clad
in the full regalia of the Tatrix. Only my face had been unveiled! Had he seen
me naked he might have raised his estimate! Too, suppose he had seen me in a
posture of submission or had had me writhe at his feet in slave chains! Suppose
he had put me through detailed and methodical slave paces, or had had me bring
him the whip in my teeth!”
“Perhaps he would have added a copper tarsk
or so to your price,” speculated Drusus Rencius.
Gor page 285-286
The second officer now returned to the kneeling girl and, standing behind
her, loosely, with a movement of the slave whip, looped the five broad blades of
the whip about her neck. He then held the loops against the whip's staff, her
neck encircled by them. He then, pulling against the side of her neck, threw her
to his feet.
"What are you?" he asked.
"A slave girl, Master," she said,
her neck in the loops of the whip.
"What Is a slave girl?" he asked.
girl who is owned," she said.
"Are you a slave girl?" he asked.
Master," she said.
"Then you are owned," he said.
"Yes, Master," she
"Who owns you?" he asked.
"Ulafi of Schendi," she said.
trains you?" he asked.
"Shoka of Schendi," she said.
"Do you have a
"Because I am a slave."
"Do you wear a
"What sort of collar do you wear?"
collar, Master. It shows that I am a portion of the cargo of the Palms of
Schendi." I thought the girl's Gorean, though the responses were generally
simple, had improved considerably in the last few days.
"What is the common
purpose of a collar?"
"The collar has four common purposes, Master," she
said. "First, it visibly designates me as a slave, as a brand might not, if it
should be covered by clothing. Second, it impresses my slavery upon me. Thirdly,
it identifies my master. Fourthly-fourthly-"
"Fourthly," she said, "it makes it easier to leash me."
her in the side. She winced. Her response had been slow.
"Do you like being a
slave girl?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," she said. She sobbed. She was again
"Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" she cried.
"What does a slave girl
want more than anything?" he asked.
"To please men," she said.
you?" he asked.
"A slave girl," she said.
"What do you want more than
anything?" he asked.
"To please men!" she cried.
"Nadu!" he cried,
loosening the whip coils on her throat.
She swiftly knelt, back on her heels,
back straight, head high, hands on her thighs, knees wide.
He then left her
again, and she remained kneeling. She moved no muscle.
"Is she more pretty
than I, Master?" asked Sasi.
"Your beauties are quite different," I said. "I
think you are both quite pretty. I think you will both make superb little
"Oh," said Sasi.
An additional utility of the collar, though it
did not count as one of its four common purposes, was that it made it easier to
put the girl in various ties. For example, one can use it to tie her hands
before her throat, or at the sides or back of her neck. One can use it with,
say, rope or chain, to fasten girls together. One can tie her feet to her
collar, and so on. If the feet are tied to the collar the knot is always in the
front, so that the pressure will be against the back of the girl's neck and not
the front. The purpose of such a tie is to hold the slave, not choke her. Gorean
men are not clumsy in their binding of women.
I looked at the kneeling,
blond-haired girl. How miserable, superficially, she seemed in her slavery. I
supposed that if she were asked, outside the context of training, where certain
answers are prescribed, if she liked being a slave girl, she would have denied
it vehemently, perhaps with tears. Doubtless she would have begged piteously for
her freedom. Yet I recalled that when her trainer, Shoka of Schendi, had flung
her to his feet by the whip coils on her neck she had fallen in a certain way,
and had lain at his feet in a certain fashion. I recalled the position of her
wrists and palms, and the look in her eyes, as she had looked up at him. Her hip
had been turned. Both legs had been drawn back, but one more than the other. Her
toes had been pointed, accentuating the turn of her calf. She had not fallen
clumsily. She had not lain clumsily at his feet. She had lain at his feet, and
looked at him, as a slave. She had not been trained to do that. I did not even
think she was aware of this sort of thing.
"Do you like me, Master?" asked
"Yes," I said, "particularly since you have had a bath."
Master," she said.
I had scrubbed her the first day out from Port Kar, she
kneeling in a tub, with sea water and a deck brush.
"What was the last time
you had a bath?" I asked her.
"A girl pushed me in the South canal a year
ago," she said.
"I see," I said.
"Is Master fastidious?" she
"Not particularly," I said, "but I will expect you to keep yourself
reasonably clean from now on. You are no longer a free woman."
"You are now a slave girl," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said. She
knew that slave girls must be attentive to matters of appearance, health,
cleanliness and hygiene. They are no longer free women.
blond-haired girl had been permitted to walk about the deck. I had stopped near
her and she had, immediately, knelt, for she was in the presence of a free man.
I had walked slowly about her. She was very nice. I had then stood before her,
and she had, suddenly, dropped her eyes. I saw a tiny movement in her hands, on
her thighs, as though she would turn them, exposing the palms to me, but then
she pressed them down her thighs, hard. I crouched beside her.
Then I smiled.
I smelled slave heat. Then I got up and went about my business. I saw her later
leaning against the main mast. Later I looked at it, and saw that she had made
marks in it with her nails.
"I myself prefer the training of the furs," said
Sasi, biting again into the larma fruit.
The blond-haired girl still knelt in
the position of the pleasure slave. For the time her trainer had forgotten about
"You just do not like being struck with the whip," I told
"Perhaps that is it," she laughed. "Master," she said.
"If I am good, you will not whip me, will you?" she asked.
might," I said.
"Oh," she said.
Sometimes I had had Sasi train with the
blond-haired girl, but generally I did not.
Ulafi had no objection to her
sharing the barbarian's training. Indeed, he had even suggested the arrangement.
Graciously he had made no charge for this. On the other hand I had not charged
him for the instruction which Sasi was giving the blond barbarian in Gorean. Our
arrangement, thus, though tacit, was a tidy one.
Sasi, Gorean, even in the
collar a few days, was already far beyond the blondhaired barbarian. It was for
this reason that I had had her seldom train with the barbarian. There had simply
not been much point to it. The barbarian still needed the simplest and most
elementary lessons of slave training. Shoka, recollecting her, had now
returned to the vicinity of the blond-haired barbarian. She did not know he was
behind her. "Bara!" he called. "Sula! Nadu!
Lesha! Sula! Bara! Nadu!"
Instantaneously she performed. Then she was again kneeling, as before.
bad," said Sasi, chewing on the larma.
"Yes," I said. Though Sasi was well
advanced beyond the blond barbarian, I suspected that the blond barbarian,
moving slowly at first, might in time catch up with her, and perhaps even
surpass her. The blond barbarian, I suspected, had unusual slave
Shoka then, without warning, struck her with his whip. She did not
break position, but she gasped. Her face was startled, her eyes were wild. She
did not know why she had been struck. In a sense there had been no reason. One
does not need a reason to strike a slave. But in another sense, in the training
situation, there had been a reason, that she was subject to discipline, and that
it could be meted out by the master purely at his whim or caprice. She tensed.
She did not know, Shoka behind her, if she would be struck again. But Shoka took
her by the hair and, she, pulled to her feet, bent over, was conducted to her
cage. There he released her and she fell to her hands and knees, to crawl into
the cage, to be locked within.
"May I speak, Master?" she asked.
"Why was I struck?" she asked.
"Kiss my feet," he said.
Then she looked up at him.
"It pleased me," he said.
"Into the cage, Slave," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
a moment she had been locked within. I saw her looking after him. Then she
looked at me, too, and then she looked down. I saw her lie on her side in the
cage, her legs drawn up. The cage is very tiny.
Explorers of Gor pages 53 -