Kur of Gor

Chapter, the Seventy-Sixth: THE FOREST CAMP

Tarl Cabot and the slave came to the abandoned forest camp without incident.

He inspected the camp and found it much as it had been, when he had come here last, through the snows of the arranged winter.

He did not close the gate.

He freed the slave of the bracelets and leash, and sent her to gather firewood.

She wore only her collar.

This was sufficient, and the collar would mark her as what she was, should she encounter anyone in the forest.

A brand may be concealed by clothing, if it is permitted the slave, but the collar is commonly visible. This badge of servitude is not only attractive, but it is to be prominently mounted, on the neck of the slave. There must be no mistaking of her for a free woman. If the weather is of inclement ferocity and the slave is muchly bundled against the cold she is expected to kneel immediately in the presence of free persons. In this way she makes her status unmistakably clear. To be sure, regardless of her dress or lack of it, the slave is expected to kneel, at least initially, in the presence of free persons, for example, when addressed, when entering rooms in which they are present, and so on, until, and if, permitted to rise. Interestingly, the slave collar, which might be thought a badge of shame, is often regarded, rather, by its wearer, and certainly by men, to the jealousy, hatred, and envy of free women, as an indisputable emblem of female desirability, a token or insignia of appeal and interest, of attractiveness and allure. Not just any woman is worth a collar; not just any woman is worth buying and selling, or having at your feet. The collar then is, in its way, a public certification of female excellence, a mark, like the brand, of special quality. It says, in effect, “This is excellent goods. Look upon her. Is she not well worth chaining?” Thus, it is not surprising that many slaves, after a time, are not only well pleased with their collars, but find themselves proud to be collared. There are two elements here which many who are unfamiliar with these matters may not understand. First, what many understand as “freedom” has never been essential to happiness, and may actually prove inimical to it. What is important to happiness is that the individual is as she wants to be, and desires to be. She is thus to be permitted to find her happiness where she does find it, in fact, and not where someone else would have her find it. It is also helpful, of course, if the society recognizes her status, accepts it, and approves it. The ideal then is that she finds herself fulfilling a recognized, accepted, approved, and valued societal role, and finds her personal fulfillment and happiness in doing so. And this role may, of course, require the collar. Second, there are many sorts of freedom, not just one. And the slave, though she is the property of a master, and is wholly his, may in her way find more freedom, and be a thousand times more liberated, so to speak, and more joyous, than the free women who fear and despise her. This is sometimes spoken of as the “paradox of the collar,” namely, that she who is least free may, interestingly, be the most free.

To be sure, there is much to fear in being a slave, for masters are not patient, and will have much of her.

She must be concerned to please, and, to the best of her ability, to please superbly.

Ramar was in the woods somewhere, perhaps hunting, or renewing a burrow.

Cabot wondered if the slave would return.

She returned in some twenty Ehn with an armful of dried branches. She was then sent forth twice more.

Following her return, the third time, he took her to a stout post, some six feet high, with two rings, one high, one low, at the side of the camp, one he had had placed there earlier, indeed, with she, the errant slave, in mind, knelt her before it and then braceleted her hands behind the post, and, with the chain leash, pulled her head back against it.

He then closed the gate, built a fire, the first since their journey had begun, and prepared food.

After he had eaten, he rejoined the slave, and fed her some small viands by hand, and gave her of drink, water from a bota.

"May I speak, Master?” she begged.

"No,” he said. He had not permitted her to speak, even from the time of the cage.

Tears sprang to her eyes.

She tried to pull out a bit from the post, and thrust her belly toward him. She whimpered, piteously.

Thus, he thought, were the women of Earth, if brought to the comprehension of their sex. But so, too, were the women of Gor. The differences between them were not biological, but cultural. Interesting, he thought, how the women of Gor look down upon, and despise, the women of Earth as aroused, salacious barbarians, and yet themselves, identically, will whimper and squirm in slave bracelets, pull against chains, writhe in ropes, and lift their bellies pathetically for a master's touch. Cabot saw little to choose between them. Both, reduced to essentials, were the same, human females.

The slave fought the bracelets; she turned her head back and forth, in frustration, in the chain leash that held her head back, against the post. In her eyes were tears. Again and again, struggling, she thrust her belly toward him, supplicatingly.

"She would sell well,” he thought.

He thought, too, of the young men of her former world, how well they might be pleased to see her so.

"No,” he said.

He then went to the opened gate, and peered into the woods. He smiled. He then swung the gate closed.

He returned to the vicinity of the fire and, with a stone, sharpened the two edges of the ax he had brought with him.

This took some time.

Before retiring he again visited the slave, and rebraceleted her hands before her, and about the post, and fastened the chain leash in such a way that she could lift her head no more than a foot from the ground.

She turned, as she could, to view him, and raised her head to the extent permitted by the leash, it shortened and locked about the lower post ring.

"May I speak, Master?” she begged. “Please, may I speak?"

"Tomorrow,” he said.

"Thank you, Master!” she said, bursting into tears. “Thank you, thank you, Master!"

"Now, be silent,” he said.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

She then, at a gesture from Cabot, lay swiftly down, for she well knew how a slave is to obey, immediately, and unquestioningly, and he threw a blanket over her. He did this in such a way that it covered her head, as well.

Slaves are often kept in ignorance.

Curiosity, after all, is not becoming to them.