Dancer of Gor

12 The Floor

I knelt at the feet of the handsome fellow and kissed and licked about his ankles. I looked up at him. He was large and strong. "I would be pleased," I whispered, "if master would see fit to take me to an alcove."

"I am here," said Tupita, squirming on her knees, nearby. "Go away!" He looked down at me.

"My use is included already, in the price of master" s drink," I said. "I cost you nothing more."

"Go away," said Tupita.

"You are Doreen, who dances, aren" t you?" he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Go away!" said Tupita.

"Be silent," said the man to her.

"Yes, Master," she said. "Forgive me, Master."

"But you do not dance tonight?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said. "Tonight I am only a paga slave."

The red-silk ribbon was no longer on my collar. The girl wears it for only a week.

"I have seen you dance," he said. "You are quite good."

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"Quite good, indeed," he mused.

"Let me dance for you, alone, in the alcove," I whispered.

he smiled. I saw that this thought intrigued him, to have a private performance by a dancing slave, that she would dance her beauty for him alone. "Please, Master," I begged.

"You want to go to the alcove, don" t you?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"And you would dance and beg for it?" he asked.

"I love to dance, Master," I said, "but even if it did not, yes, I would dance and beg for it!"

"Are you any good at bringing the whip to a man in your teeth?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said.

"But are you not a woman of Earth?" he asked.

"Once I was a woman of Earth," I said. "Now I am only a Gorean slave." "In the baths," he said, "I have seen the names of slaves and taverns scrawled on the walls."

"Oh?" I said, uneasily.

"And sometimes they are ranked in order of someone" s opinion as to their desirability," he said.

"I see," I said.

"May I speak, Master?" asked Tupita, with an almost catlike movement of her body. I thought I must learn to do that.

"Yes," he said.

"Were slaves in the tavern of Hendow so ranked?" she asked.

"Yes," he smiled.

"And did the name of Tupita not head the list?" she asked, glancing meaningfully at me.

"No," he said.

"Who was first?" she asked.

"Inger," he said.

"My name then was second," she said.

"No," said he, "it was third."

"And who was second?" she asked, angrily.

"Doreen," he smiled.

"The fellow who wrote the names up was surely mistaken," she said, angrily. "I can give you my opinion on that," he said, "at some later date. I have used you before. You" re quite good. Even excellent. There is no doubt about it. But tonight I shall try something different. I shall try the dancer, Doreen." "Thank you, Master!" I breathed, happily. Tonight I had searched hard for a use master. It was the middle of the week, when business is slower. Many men receive their hiring fees at the end of the week. Too, tonight, it seemed that many of the men had come to the tavern only to drink and talk, and some, too, near the walls, where it was quieter, to play kaissa, a Gorean board game. I did not care for kaissa. Men grew so absorbed in it, it seemed, that they could be totally oblivious even to a beautiful slave whimpering on her belly near them. Because of kaissa we had to sometimes wait hours for attentions! Too, I had come to the floor late, Tupita having assigned me cleaning duties in the slave area. This had happened before.

"To be sure, Tupita," he said, giving her head a shake, "such estimations are often quote subjective. It is wise not to take them seriously. The woman who is one" s man pudding may, for one reason or another, having sometimes little to do with her, be only another man" s porridge."

This I had learned was true. Slaves, and even some whom I regarded as objectively beautiful, even marvelous, were sometimes rated very differently by different men. Why, for example, does one man bid gold for a girl that another man would not buy for a copper? Perhaps because one man sees that the girl is worth gold, and the other does not. Who knows?

"But I have been waiting for you this evening!" said Tupita.

"Belly to another tonight," he said, "slave."

"Yes, Master," she said, angrily, and rose up, and, with an angry look at me, hurried away, in a jangle of bells.

I looked up at him, gratefully. He was very strong and handsome, and I was a slave. I wanted his touch.

"She is angry," he said, looking after Tupita.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Shall I call her back to be whipped?" he asked.

"Please. No, Master," I said. "It is only that she desires you." "She is first girl, is she not?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Are you not afraid?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Many time," I said, "particularly in my first weeks here, she took men away from me."

He looked down at me. "I do not think she can do that so easily any more," he said.

I looked down. "Perhaps not, Master," I said. "I do not know." To be sure, this was not the first man I had taken from Tupita. Normally, however, to be perfectly honest, she still took them from me. It is not unknown, of course, for slaves to compete for the attentions of masters.

"Are you not afraid?" he asked.

"No," I said, "not really. If she hurts me too much, or makes it so I cannot dance, or go out on the floor, our master would not be pleased."

"I see," he said.

Too, though I did not think it would have been appropriate to say so, I thought that I was becoming more popular with the customers. Too, I knew I was popular with several of my master" s men, such as Mirus, and I thought too, sometimes, that even my master might like me, a little. That, of course, frightened me, for he was large, and gross and loathsome. These things, I thought, would give Tupita at least a bit of pause when she might be tempted to use the switch or bastinado on me.

"But you must be apprehensive," he asked. "She is first girl."

"Yes, Master," I said. "I am a little afraid."

"Why then have you approached me?" he asked. "Why have you undertaken these risks? Why have you rendered obeisance? Why have you rendered slave ministrations, with your lips and tongue, to my feet and ankles? Why have you knelt here? Why do you look up at me, as you do? Why do you tremble?" "Because I want your touch," I said.

He looked down at me.

"I cannot help myself," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I am a woman, and a slave," I whispered.

"Precede me to the alcove," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said eagerly, gratefully. I then rose up and preceded him to the alcove, the slave bells jangling on my ankle.