I screamed with pain, awakening suddenly. I tried to get to my feet. I could not do so. My wrists and ankles seemed confined. There was something heavy on my neck. I got to my hands and knees. I could not believe my senses. I was collared, and naked and shackled. Then the lash fell again, and I cried out with misery, slipping to my stomach. I lay on a flooring of large blocks of fitted stone. My wrists were chained to one iron ring, my ankles to another. I felt wet straw beneath my body. The stones were damp. There were no windows in the room. The light was dim, being furnished by a tiny lamp in a small niche. The place was dank, and smelled of wastes. I thought it might be far below the ground. I was intensely conscious of the heavy metal collar I wore. There was, attached to it, as I conjectured, hearing the tiny sound of its movement and its clink on the stone beneath my body, a smaller piece of metal, perhaps a ring of some sort.
Then the lash, as I wept from the pain, struck me again and again.
"Please, stop!" I begged. "Please, stop!"
Then I no longer felt the disciplinary tearing of the leather at my flesh.
The gravity of this world was different from that of my own, being slightly less. I knew then I was no longer on Earth.
I turned, frightened, in the chains, to see who had struck me.
A strong woman stood there, perhaps some five feet ten inches in height and one hundred and forty pounds in weight. She was breathing heavily and, in two hands, held the whip tightly gripped. She was dark-haired and dark-eyed. She was muscular and strong, but her figure was striking. She wore a leather halter and tights of black leather. Her midriff was strikingly white, and her arms and legs. There was a golden armlet on her left arm. Her hair was held back by a leather band. She wore a heavy, studded belt, tightly buckled, and heavy sandals, almost like boots, with thongs. From her belt there hung a ring of keys and a coiled chain, with a snap. On her belt, toward the back, on her right side, in a snap strap, hung a pair of steel manacles.
I tried to turn away from her, for I was naked, but she drew back the whip and, suddenly, again struck me.
"You are a woman," I said, half turned from her, stung by the fierce stroke of her whip. There were tears in my eyes.
"Do not insult me," she said.
She then struck me again with the whip. I cried out with misery.
She then changed her position, walking about me, until she stood a few feet ahead of the forward ring, that to which my hands were chained. Again I tried to turn to the side, that I might not be so shamefully exposed to her.
"Kneel facing me," she said. "Spread your legs"
I did so, miserable with embarrassment.
"Free persons may look upon you as they please," she said.
"You speak English," I said.
"A little," she said, "not much. Some four years ago my superiors thought that it might be useful for me to learn the language. A female captive, a graduate student in linguistics, kept under close discipline, was acquired to teach me. When I had learned a sufficient amount she was disposed of."
"Slain?" I asked.
"No," she smiled. "She was intelligent and attractive. Thus we made her a slave and sold her. She was purchased by a strong master. She will serve him well."
"But you do not much use your English?" I asked.
"No longer," she said. "For a time we used it in the training of Earth wenches, slave girls. But now, from this facility, as from others, they are simply scattered, after two or three days' training, to various markets, sold, for most practical purposes, ignorant and raw. They are then forced to learn the language of their masters directly, as a child learns, not through the medium of their old tongue. The method is efficient. The girls become quickly acclimated to their chains and collars in a unilingual environment, that of their masters."
"Are you holding, here," I asked, "an Earth girl named Beverly Henderson?"
"Slaves have no names," she said, "unless it pleases the masters to name them."
"She is dark-haired and dark-eyed," I said, "very pretty, about five feet in height and ninety-five pounds in weight."
"Oh, the exquisite little beauty," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"I wish that I had been able to get my hands on her," she said.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said. "She and the others, hooded and chained, have already been separated and sent to various markets, to be sold. They will quickly learn to be superb slaves."
I looked at her.
"It was a lovely shipment," she said. "Masters will be pleased to own them."
I moaned. What a miserable fate awaited the lovely Miss Henderson and, of course, her fellow captitves, or slaves.
"You know nothing of where they were sent?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I am not privy to that information."
I shook my head in misery. Miss Henderson, the helpless little beauty, now totally in the power of men, could be anywhere on this world.
I lifted my chained wrists. "Why am I chained?" I asked.
"What a stupid fool you are," she said. Then she walked about me, whip in hand. "Yet you are a pretty one," she said. "To a woman you might not be unattractive."
Then she stood again before me.
I shrank back in the chains. I was acutely conscious of the clash of the steel on my wrists and ankles.
She approached me and. with the coils of the whip, tapped the metal on my neck. "This is a collar," she said. Then, with her left hand, she jerked at the metal piece attached to the collar. From the way it felt I gathered that it was, as I bad suspected, a ring. Then it fell back against the collar and against my collarbone. She then stepped back. and regarded me. Never had I been looked upon so objectively by a woman. "I think you will do very nicely," she said.
"Release me, please," I said.
She then struck me twice, viciously, with the whip.
I fell to my stomach on the stone and straw. I tried to cover my head with my chained hands. Five times more the whip fell, mercilessly.
"On your back," she said.
I rolled on my back, and lay, miserably, at her feet. She caressed the side of my body with the coils of the whip. "Yes," she said, "I think you will do very nicely. Now, again on-your knees, legs spread, before me!"
Then again I knelt before her, precisely as she had commanded, obeying her. Frightened, I lifted my eyes to those of my sturdy jailer. Her eyes frightened me. They were cruelly hard, uncompromising, dominating. Never in my life had I seen such inflexible will manifested in the eyes of a woman. I put down my head. I realized that her will was stronger than mine. I feared she would be strict with me. I trembled. I was afraid of her.
I felt the whip under my chin, lifting my head. Again I looked at her. "Do not be afraid," she said, soothingly, "Slave."
"I am not a slave," I said.
She stepped back, and laughed. She went to my left. The wall there had the shape of a large, conical arch. The area which would have been open, however, was closed by heavy bars, reinforced every six inches or so by sturdy, lateral crosspieces. In this wall of bars, itself also formed of bars and crosspieces, was a heavy gate. Beyond the bars and crosspieces I could see a corridor, some eight feet wide. On the other side of the corridor I could see another cell. As nearly as I could tell, it was empty. My jailer stood very straight and proudly, whip in hand, by the heavy gate. Her flesh seemed very white. I saw the keys and the coiled chain which hung at her belt and, toward the back, on the right side -in their snap strap- the steel manacles she carried.
"Prodicus," she called. "Gron!"
In a moment two extremely large and powerful men had responded to her call. They were dressed not unlike her, save for the halter and the leather band which bound back her hair. Their chests, bare, were large and broad. The chest of one was hairy; that of the other was smooth. Their arms and thighs were like iron. They carried no whips. One seemed Caucasian and the other Oriental. The Caucasian had shaggy, brown hair and the Oriental had had his head shaved, except for a topknot of black, shiny hair. They pushed into the cell, for she had apparently left the gate unlocked following her entrance. Or, perhaps, it had not been locked, considering the confinement of my chains. She spoke to them rapidly in a language I did not understand. I heard her use the expression `sleen'.
"What are you going to do?" I asked, frightened. The men approached me and I tried to pull back in my chains. I heard the clink of the metal piece, presumably a ring, on my collar. The men handled me like I was a child. I had never encountered such strength. I was thrown on my stomach. The chain and manacles fastening me to the forward ring were then removed and my hands were jerked behind my back. My hands were then locked anew in manacles, taken from the belt of one of the men. Then my ankles were freed of their impediments, and I was jerked to my feet, my arms held by the two men, one on each side of me.
"What are you going, to do?" I asked the woman.
She did not respond, but turned and led the way from the cell. The two men holding my arms, I was forced, stumbling, rapidly, to follow her.
____________________
"No!" I screamed. "No!" I lay on my side. My ankles were crossed and tied. I saw a large side of meat being hoisted by me, hung on a dangling hook. I had looked into the pit. I heard the raging of the animals. "No," I begged. A rope was tied, tightly, about my waist, and then tied about the linkage between the manacles confining my hands behind my back. My hands, then, must be held close to the small of my back. "Please, no, please, no!" I begged. Two men took another side of meat, large and heavy, and thrust it on a new hook. Then it was lifted up and swung, on a set of ropes, over the edge of the barrier and toward the center of the circular, sunken enclosure, whence it was lowered. I heard the snarling, the squealing, the frenzied feeding. "Please, no!" I begged. Never had I seen such beasts. They were darkly colored, usually brown, and some were black. They were, some of them, as much as twenty feet in length. Several must have weighed between twelve and fourteen hundred pounds. They were six legged, clawed, and doubly fanged. Their heads were wide and triangular, like those of vipers, but their bodies, long and sinuous, were thickly furred. They twisted and squirmed about one another. I had been held by the two men at the edge of the barrier, to see the attack on the first piece of lowered meat. The animals leaped for it, some of them thirty or more feet into the air. Some even caught and clung to it as it was being lowered, tearing at it and cutting at it with their hind pairs of feet. There was a stink in the place of the animals, and the noise of their snarling, their hissing, their squealing and challenge screams was ear-piercing and horrifying.
"No!" I screamed. One of the two men slipped a hook under the ropes that bound my ankles. In a moment it began to ascend and I was lifted, feet upward, above the walkway encircling the sunken enclosure. I hung, helpless, head downward,
"Please, no!" I wept.
The woman in the black leather, she whom I had taken as my jailer, gave a signal.
"No, please!" I cried.
Helpless I felt myself lifted higher and, on the system of ropes, carried out over the sunken enclosure, the floor of which was some seventy-five feet below me.
I could sense the animals below me, their large size, the fetid smell, almost overwhelming, swirling upward, their energetic stirring, their twisting in and about one another. I put my head back and could glimpse several of the furred bodies below. I saw their heads raised, their eyes blazing, their long, dark tongues, triangular, their distended jaws, the two rows of fangs. Then I felt the rope give a hitch and I was lowered a foot toward them.
The first of the beasts leaped upward toward me, falling short by several feet, falling back, scrambling, among the others.
I was then lowered some five to seven feet again. I wept with misery. I could feel the heavy collar now against the bottom of my chin, as it had slipped down. The metal attachment, which I took to be a ring, lay against my chin.
I was then lowered some ten more feet, then another ten feet.
The animals were now much more frenzied, save for some, here and there in the enclosure, in small groups, snarling and scratching, tearing apart meat already lowered into the pit.
The rope then again slipped, being lowered again.
"Please, stop!" I begged. I could see the woman with such white skin, she in the black leather, with the whip, at the height of the barrier. Behind her were the two brutes who had taken me from my cell. I had never seen such strength as theirs. I had been helpless in their hands. They had controlled me with utter ease.
I was now, squirming and crying, some forty feet above the floor of the pit below.
The rope lowered again.
I screamed with misery.
The animals, then, began to leap upward. I heard jaws snap not more than a yard or so below my head. I saw the raking of broad claws, exposed, curved and white, pass sweeping below me. I was certain they could, with a single, wicked blow, half tear my head from my body.
My screams mingled with the raging snarls and piercing hunger screams of the beasts.
The rope gave another hitch, and I was lowered another foot.
Then I was lowered another foot.
I cried out with misery.
Then I felt my body, suddenly, swung to the side and drawn upward. I was hoisted up, on the system of ropes, then, to the barrier, and over it. The two brutes who had taken me from my cell removed me from the hook. They then unbound my ankles. They then removed the rope from my belly, which had held the manacles close to the small of my back. Two men placed a large piece of meat on the hook from which I had been removed and, in a moment, on the system of ropes, had hoisted it over the barrier, out over the enclosure, and down to the animals. I heard them fighting, tearing at it. The large Oriental fellow pulled my hands, manacled behind my back, toward him. He then, with a key, removed them from me and replaced them in the snap strap at his belt. They had been his.
"Kneel," said the fair-skinned, leather-clad woman, my jailer.
I knelt, terrified. I could hear the animals tearing apart the meat below.
"Legs spread," she said.
I complied, shuddering.
"Do you know now you are a slave?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "yes!"
"Yes, what?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I don't know!"
" `Yes, Mistress,'" she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Say now," she said, " `I am a slave, Mistress.'"
"I am a slave, Mistress," I said.
"Say now," she said, " 'I am your slave, Mistress.'"
"I am your slave Mistress," I said.
"You may now put your head down and kiss my feet," she said.
I did so. I was terrified of her.
"Do you know on what world you now find yourself?" she asked.
I dared not answer her.
"It is called 'Gor'," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said. I trembled. I almost fainted. There was truly a Gor.
"Look up, Slave," she said.
I looked up.
"And on Gor," she said, "you are a slave."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"On Gor," she said, "we do not accept disobedience in slaves, not the least disobedience, is that clearly understood?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Beyond that," she said, "a slave is expected to be fully pleasing, fully. Is that understood, perfectly?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"The animals you have seen are called sleen," she said. "They are used for many purposes on Gor. One purpose they are commonly used for is to hunt down and destroy slaves. That is the purpose, incidentally, for which the animals you have just seen have been trained."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"It is common also on Gor to take troublesome or disobedient slaves, or recalcitrant slaves, or slaves who have not been fully pleasing, perhaps even in a quite minor way, either male or female salves, and feed them to sleen. Indeed, sometimes slaves are fed to sleen simply for the amusement of the masters."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Do you understand now, just a little, what it might be to be a slave on Gor?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Get on your hands and knees," she said.
I did so.
One of the men, the strong fellow with brown, shaggy hair, said something to her. She laughed, and shook her head. They exchanged a remark or two, and then the two men, the fellow with brown, shaggy hair and the other man, the large Oriental fellow, turned about and left.
"He was asking," she said, "if I wished him to accompany me back to the cell." She hung the whip on her belt, folding back its blades. There was a small ring on the butt end of the whip which fitted over a hook on the belt. The blades of the whip fitted under a clip, also on the belt. She turned the collar on my throat, so that the metal attachment, or ring, was at the back. "I told him it would not be necessary," she said. She unslung the metal chain from her belt. "I told him you were tame," she said. She then snapped the chain on the collar. She jerked it. I was on my hands and knees, leashed. "You are tamed, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Come along now," she said. "We are returning to the cell."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Kneel here," she said.
I knelt where she indicated. She took the shackles from the rear ring and snapped them on my ankles.
She came around in front of me, and crouched down. "Put your wrists here," she said.
I put my wrists where she had indicated and she snapped them into the waiting manacles, those attached to the forward ring. She had already removed the chain leash from my collar and, coiling it, slung it on her belt.
I then knelt chained before her. I was again in my cell. Again my ankles were shackled to a ring. Again my wrists were manacled to the forward ring. Things were much as they had been before, before she had called the men to fetch me forth from the cell. There was, however, one important difference. Before there had knelt on that spot a free man in chains. There knelt there now only a chained slave.
She stood up and backed away a bit, and stood there, regarding me.
"You will commonly," she said, not unkindly, "when kneeling before a free woman, keep your knees spread, unless your lady wishes otherwise."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"That is right," she said. "I find that good. But remember, the whim of the Mistress is everything."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"You are, as far as I know," she said, "the first male of Earth brought to Gor as a slave."
"It is an accident that I am here," I said. "I fell across the path of slavers. Please send me back to Earth."
"Be silent, Slave," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
She walked around behind me, where I could not see her.
"I was once, for a time, on your planet," she said.
"Oh?" I said.
I heard a very tiny sound, almost inaudible, metallic.
"Did you hear that sound?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"It is the sound of the whip being removed from my belt," she said.
I said nothing.
"You will learn to know it well," she said. "Yes," she said, "a year and a half ago, in the service of my superiors, I spent several months on your world. Are you afraid you are going to be lashed?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"It was there," she said, "that I learned the nature of the males of Earth, and to despise them."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
I heard a tiny sound again, very similar to the first.
"I have replaced the whip on my belt," she said. Then she came again in front of me, where she might look down on me. The whip hung again at her belt.
"I'm not going to whip you now," she said.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"Jason," I said. "Jason Marshall."
"You have no name," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"But `Jason' will do," she said. "You are Jason."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"The name is now a slave name," she said, "put on you because it pleases me."
"Yes, Mistress," I said. I was now a named slave.
She went to the side of the cell. There, on a shelf, were two shallow pans. They had been there before. She carried one of them over to me. It contained, as I now saw, pieces of meat. She held the pan in her left hand and, with her right hand, picked out a piece of meat.
She looked down at me.
"The transition to slavery will be easier for you than for a true man," she said, "but it will still, doubtless, not be easy for you."
I looked up at her, miserably.
"Feed, Jason," she said, putting the piece of meat in my mouth.
"I have been to Earth," she said. "I have seen the males there. There are so few men among them. Is it so hard, I wonder, to be a man. Why is it that so many of the males of Earth have given up their manhood, and pretend to rejoice in their mutilation. Doubtless there are complex historical causes. It is interesting, the grotesque shapes into which culture can shape a tortured biology."
As she spoke, she continued to feed me.
"But I feel no pity for you sorry males of Earth," she said, "for you have permitted this to be done to you. What despicable weaklings and cowards you are. You have little left to you but the vestiges of your manhood, and you let even those, bit by bit, be taken from you."
She thrust another piece of meat in my mouth.
"Poor, pretty Jason," she said. "He does not know what to think." She smiled at me. "I will tell you a secret, Jason," she said, "you were a slave before, but did not know it. You were the slave of a culture, of values, of propaganda and women. Your chains were invisible, so you pretended they did not exist. But did you not, nonetheless, feel their weight? Are things so different here than there for you? There is, surely, little true difference. The whips here, of course, are of real leather, and the chains of honest iron. When you feel them you need not pretend they are something other than what they are." She stopped feeding me. "They are precisely what they seem," she said, "true leather and iron. And you are precisely what you seem to be, a slave."
"Yes, Mistress," I said, miserably.
She then put the pan of meat down on the stones, where I might reach it. She then went back to the shelf and brought the other pan to where I knelt. She placed it within my reach, on the stones. It contained water.
"Put your head down and drink," she said. "Do not use your hands."
I put my head down and drank.
"Stop," she said.
I stopped
She then, with her foot, white in that high, bootlike, thonged sandal, slid both the pan of meat and the pan of water out of my reach.
"The slave is completely dependent on the master or mistress," she said, "even for food and drink."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
She then, again, with her foot, slid the pan of meat and the pan of water to where I might reach them.
"Say `Thank you, Mistress,'" she said.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
"Put your head down again, and drink," she said.
Again I put my head down and, frightened, drank.
"Oh," she said, "how I despise you, and how I shall enjoy working with you."
I trembled.
"Look up, Jason," she said.
I looked up.
"Look into my eyes," she said.
I did so. It was difficult to meet her gaze.
"Who is stronger?" she asked.
"You, Mistress," I said. I had never encountered such inflexible resolve in a human being. I knew I could not begin to match the power and strength of her will, her stern character. I could only bend helplessly before it. She was totally superior to me. She was mistress; I was slave.
"Do I frighten you, Jason?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"You need only try to be totally pleasing," she said. "You will then, to some extent, improve your chances for life."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"The matter rests with me," she said, "with whether I am pleased or not."
"I will try to please you, Mistress," I said.
"I'm sure you will, pretty Jason," she said. She then stepped back from me. "I am not so terrible," she said. "I can be kind."
I looked at her, startled.
"Oh," she laughed, slapping the whip roughly at her side, "do not think I will not be strict with you. I am strict with all my charges. All, like yourself, must obey perfectly. All must be fully pleasing."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"But, too," she said, "I can be kind. There are worse mistresses on Gor than I."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"On this world, as on yours," she said, "there can be rewards for pleasing slaves. For example, perhaps in the future, you need not be chained like a raw slave, naked, in a stinking cell. There are better accomodations in the pens."
I put down my head. How conscious I was of the chains I wore.
She went to the heavy door of the cell, which she had left open. There she stopped, and turned to face me. I turned to my left, to see her.
"Rewards, like punishments," she said, "lie within the prerogatives of the mistress, to distribute, both with respect to type and abundance, as she pleases."
"I understand, Mistress," I said.
"You understand, too, do you not," she asked, "that you are in my total power?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Whether you live or die is up to my whim," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said, miserably.
"You are a slave," she said, "fully. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"But I am not cruel," she said. "If you please me, totally, I may even be kind to you."
"I will try to please you, Mistress," I said.
"It is in my power to make your life more pleasant, if I choose," she said. "Rewards can be many and varied, different sorts of chains and cells, clothing, and of various sorts, a lighter collar, different sorts of food. I can even have a woman thrown to you." She smiled. "Or would you, a male of Earth, know what to do with one?"
She turned about then and went through the heavy door of the cell, that door formed, like that wall of the cell itself, of bars and heavy, lateral crosspieces, set some six inches apart. She swung shut the door and it closed, with a heavy metallic ring that reverberated in the cells and corridor. She stood behind it, looking at me.
"Yes," she said, "you are pretty, Jason. I think you will do very nicely."
"Who are you?" I cried.
She looked at me from the other side of the bars. She was a large woman, tall and strong. She stood very straight. Her figure was striking. Her skin was very white. It contrasted vividly with the brief, confining black leather she wore. She wore, too, a headband of leather. At her waist was the heavy belt, from which hung a coiled chain, a ring of keys, a pair of manacles and a whip. "I am the Lady Gina," she said, "your trainer."
"Trainer?" I cried.
"Yes," she said.
"I do not understand," I said. "What is your work?"
"Have you not guessed?" she asked. "I train men to give pleasure to women."
I looked at her with horror.
She then took the ring of keys from her belt and thrust a key into the lock on the cell door, and turned it, locking the heavy door.
"Sleep well, pretty Jason," she said. "Your lessons begin in the morning."
She then replaced the keys on her belt, and left.