Vagabonds of Gor

37 Near the Cosian Camp

"Thigh," I said.

The dark-haired woman turned immediately to her side, exposing her left thigh to me. There was a chain on her neck, run to a stake near the wagon. A small copper bowl was beside her.

"Thigh," I said, to the other woman, also dark-haired, but smaller. With an exciting, sensuous movement she exhibited her thigh. She was confined as was the other. Beside her, too, on the ground, was a small copper bowl.

"Ephialtes!" I called.

A brunet in a brief, yellow slave tunic looked about the wagon. She saw me and immediately knelt, seemingly frightened, though for what reason I could not guess. "Master!" she called.

In a moment Ephialtes, the sutler, came about the wagon, from the other side of it, where they were cooking, where they had their small camp.

"Tarl, my friend!" said he. We clasped hands, then embraced.

"It is good to see you, my friend," I said.

"How have you been?" he asked.

"Very well," I said, "and yourself?" "Excellent," said he.

"Splendid," I said. "How is business?"

"One tries, desperately, to make a living," he said.

"There is gold thread on your tunic," I said.

"Yellow thread," he said. "Your pouch seems full," I said. "Tarsk bits," he said.

"I think your fortunes have improved," I said.

"If that is so," he said, "I think you have made your contributions to such matters."

"And the needs of the troops of Cos," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"These are excellent times for a sutler," I said, "what with the numbers of men about, and the success of Cos."

"I speculate those with the troops of Ar are doing less well," he said.

"Some have probably brought their goods to Brundisium," I suggested.

"It is true." he whispered.

Wagons, of course, might be painted different colors. Accents could be feigned, and so on. Sutlers were, on the whole, fellows of business, and could scarcely be blamed for seeking favorable markets.

Ephialtes glanced down at the two women on the ground, chained by the neck to stakes on this side of the wagon, the copper bowls near them.

"Amina," said he, "Rimice, surely you recognize Tarl, our friend, to whom you owed your redemption from the Crooked Tarn?"

I saw by the fear in their eyes that well did they recognize me.

"Then, obeisance!" snapped Ephialtes.

Immediately, with a rustle of chain, they knelt, the palms of their hands on the ground, their heads to the dirt.

"Normally at the stakes," he said, "they are not permitted to rise even to their knees."

"Of course," I said.

I glanced at them, in their positions of obeisance.

"They look well, branded," I said.

"I hope you do not mind," he said.

"Of course not," I said. "It improves a female, considerably."

"I think so," he said, glancing at the girl in the yellow tunic, who put her head down, quickly. I did not know what she was frightened of.

"I gave you carte blanche with the women," I. said. "You might have sold them, anything."

"I sold Temione to the proprietor of a movable paga enclosure," he said.

"Perhaps she is in the vicinity?" I asked.

"Not now," he said. "She was purchased by a courier of Artemidorus, a fellow named Borton, and was led away in his chains."

"I have heard of him," I said.

"I think that I never saw a slave so grateful as she, and yet one who seemed at the same time so much in terror for her very life," he said.

"I understand," I said. I recalled the night in the paga enclosure. Doubtless Borton had a few scores to settle with the lovely Temione. I did not think she would be likely, in his ownership, to forget she was in a collar.

"You yourself, I gather," he said, "sold Elene and Klio near Ar's Station."

"Yes," I said.

"Liomache," he said, "I also sold near Ar's Station, even before Temione, to a Cosian mercenary, whom she had apparently, months before, at the Crooked Tarn, tricked and defrauded."

"Excellent," I said. I did not doubt but what Liomache, too, would be in little doubt that her lovely neck was encircled with a slave collar.

"Amina and Rimice," he said, "I have been using as rent slaves."

"I see," I said.

"Stake position," said Ephialtes to the two women. Immediately they both lay down, with a sound of chain. It is not unusual to forbid a rent slave, during her use times, when chained at a stake, to rise even to her knees.

"Perhaps we should discuss what is to be done with Amina and Rimice," I said.

The two lovely women, formerly debtor sluts, now slaves, looked up at us, in fear.

"Perhaps you would care to come around the wagon then," said Ephialtes.

"Of course," I said. One seldom discusses what is to be done with slaves in front of them. They may always learn later what was decided pertaining to them.

Ephialtes turned about.

"By the way," I said, "there was, as I recall, one more female."

"The one you brought with you from the Crooked Tarn," he said, turning about, "she in the condition of captive, assigned the status of full servant?"

"Yes," I said.

"The pretty Cosian, from Telnus?"

"Yes," I said.

"Phoebe," he said.

"Yes," I said. "Have you sold her?"

"No," he said.

"Do you still have her?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

I was extremely pleased to hear this. Indeed, it was one of the reasons I had come to the vicinity of Brundisium.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"In the wagon," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"It is safer," he said. "Too many of the men want her. I am afraid she might be stolen."

"You have not been using her, like Amina and Rimice, then, as a rent slave."

"No," he said.

"But surely you have had her branded and collared?" I said.

"No," he said. "Why not?" I asked.

"She was not a debtor slut," he said.

It is common on Gor for female debtors to be enslaved, the proceeds from their sales going to satisfy, insofar as it is possible, their creditors.

"But she is a captive," I said.

"True," he said.

"And is she not needful and ripe for bondage?" I asked.

"Quite," he said.

I had known this about Phoebe for a long time, of course, even from the time she had first knelt before me, at the Crooked Tarn.

"And when a woman is needful and ripe for bondage, is it not cruel to deny it to her?" I asked.

"I suppose so," said Ephialtes.

"Why, then," I asked, "did you not extend to her the mercy of the collar and whip?"

"I expected you to return, and rather before now," he said, "and thought you might see to such details, if it pleased you."

"I see," I said.

"She is, after all, a free woman, and your captive, not mine."

"True," I said.

"So I thought it best to dally in the matter, waiting for you."

"I understand," I said.

"Before you turned her over to me," he said, "you must have started slave fires in her belly."

"Perhaps," I said.

"She has often been in agony," he said.

"And was not satisfied?" I asked.

"No," he said. "And it has often been necessary to chain her hands behind her back, to a belly rope."

"And you did not, even then, imbond her?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"At any rate," I said, "it is not as though she were a full slave, and knew the helplessness of the full slave's arousal."

"True," he said.

"That can come later," I said.

"Of course," he said.

It amused me to think of the lovely Phoebe under a condition of such need.

"Perhaps I should have seen to it," he said, "that her neck took up its residence within some suitable encirclement, that her thigh was subjected to the kiss of some appropriate iron."

"That is all right," I said. It would not take long to attend to the relevant matters, of course.

"I gather that you have some sort of disposition in mind for her," he said.

"Yes," I said. Indeed, I had a superb disposition in mind for Phoebe.

He glanced at Amina and Rimice.

"Of course," I said. We would not discuss the disposition of the lovely Phoebe before them, as she, too, was a female. Let them all wait to learn what is to be done with them. To be sure, as they were slaves and she was still, apparently, a free woman, they would probably, in any event, be afraid to speak to her.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Share our kettle," he said.

"I would be delighted," I said.

I glanced at Amina and Rimice, and they swiftly, frightened, averted their eyes. We would discuss their fates on the other side of the wagon, while we supped.

"Where is Phoebe?" I asked, for, as I went around the wagon, I did not see her within.

"There," he said.

"Oh, yes," I said.

Lying on the floor of the wagon there was a heavy leather slave sack, tied shut at the top. Two chains went to the sack, through the leather, one toward the top, the other toward the bottom. As the girl is preparing to enter the sack the bottom chain, with its slave ring, is locked about her left ankle. As she inches down, into the sack, the slack of this chain is taken up by the captor or master. If her hands are not, say, tied behind her in the sack, they are usually placed at her thighs, that her arms will be down, at her sides, when she is in the sack. When she is almost fully entered into the sack the collar on the neck chain, the collar within the sack, the chain entering it from the outside, is locked on her neck. She is then entered fully into the sack, and it is tied shut, usually about a foot above her head. The chains are fastened to the wagon, sometimes to the wheels, to impede their movement, or to other objects, for example, stakes or trees. The common slave sack, incidentally, is much simpler, commonly little more than a sturdy canvas or leather sack which may be tied, buckled or chained shut.

"You are keeping her under unusual security," I said.

"It is necessary," he said. "She has become a beauty. The men hang about, asking about her, making offers for her, and such. I fear she might be stolen at night."

"Excellent," I said.

I then followed Ephialtes about the wagon, and sat down, cross-legged, by their small fire.

"What is the news of Torcadino?" I asked.

"I do not know," he said.

The girl in the yellow tunic served us, quietly, efficiently, deferentially. She was Liadne, a slave. She had been picked up in the vicinity of the Crooked Tam, months ago. She was as first girl to the others, even Phoebe, the free woman.

"It is strange," I said. "It seems surely there should be news from Torcadino by now."

"Dietrich of Tarnburg is trapped," said Ephialtes. "It is a matter of time. He will be starved out."

I did not think that Dietrich would be starved out. He was holding Torcadino with only some five thousand men, and that many, I thought, might subsist on produce grown within the city, in yards, in torn-up streets, in roof gardens, and such. The civilian population, helpfully, had been for the most part expelled from the city shortly after its capture. An exception had been made, of course, for enslaved women of interest. One of the duties of these women, many of high caste, now enslaved, would doubtless be the tending of the soldiers' gardens.

"There is no escape for him," said Ephialtes.

"Perhaps not," I said.

"For his men, at least," he said. "Perhaps he, himself, and some officers, might escape by tam, at night."

"Perhaps," I said. I doubted, however, that Dietrich would abandon his men.

"Have you come alone to Brundisium?" asked Ephialtes.

"No," I said, "I came with two companions, but they are elsewhere, at my camp."

"They are welcome here, of course," said Ephialtes. "There is room under the wagon."

"Thank you," I said. "I am grateful for that." I had not wished to bring Marcus and Ina to the wagon of Ephialtes, of course, for it was, for most practical purposes, within the Cosian camp. From where we were I could have thrown a stone among the tents. The accent of Marcus, here, might have provoked suspicion, inquiries and such. I had left him and Ina in a large, crowded area near the periphery of the slave camp, one populated now by itinerants, peddlers, camp guards and such. In such a place there was a medley of accents and I did not think the young man and the blond female would attract undue attention, except perhaps insofar as Ina might excite interest as a possible chain slut.

"I have kept the accounts with care," said Ephialtes.

"You have deducted your commission, and expenses of feed, and such," I said.

"I will do so," he said.

We heard a coin thrown into one of the copper bowls on the far side of the wagon.

Ephialtes bent down a little, to look across the fire, under the wagon. "A fellow is putting Amina into service," he said.

"A tarsk bit?" I asked.

"Yes," said Ephialtes. He sat back. "Several fellows have asked me to put Phoebe at the stake," he said, "being willing to pay an entire copper tarsk."

"For only a brief use and handling?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"She must have become a beauty," I said.

"She has," he said. "Shall I have her released from the sack, for your inspection?"

"No," I said. "I may wish, however, to have her presented in the morning."

"At your convenience," he said.

We heard another tarsk bit strike into one of the bowls, and then rattle to a stop.

"Rimice is in use," said Ephialtes, peering under the wagon, looking to the other side.

"You have put their former free-woman names on them as slave names," I noted.

"Yes," he said.

"Excellent," I said. In a sense, of course, all female names are slave names, being the names of slaves. But, of course, not all slaves are legal slaves. With some women it is useful to give them a new name, or even to change their name from time to time, as one might change the name of any animal. With others, it is amusing to have them answering to their old names, but now merely as slaves to slave names. Much depends on the woman, for example, with respect to what most stimulates her, and makes her the most helpless. Too, things may always be changed, at the master's will.

I heard one of the women cry out.

"That is Amina," I said.

"Yes," said Ephialtes.

"She has become a slave, hasn't she?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

In a few moments, we heard, too, from a slightly different direction, gasps, then moans and soft cries.

"That is Rimice," said Ephialtes.

"She, too, is apparently becoming acquainted with her collar," I said.

"Just wait," said Ephialtes, "until he forces her beyond the point from which she can return."

"Excellent," I said. That would be the point at which the woman has no choice but to accept the slave orgasm.

"I am interested in clearing up our business very soon," I said.

"Very well," said Ephialtes.

Liadne's eyes met mine. For some reason, she seemed terrified.

At that moment Amina cried out in helpless submission. It is a beautiful sound, and one not unfamiliar to masters. A few moments later Rimice also cried out, wildly and helplessly, her small, well-curved body, with its sensitivities and responsiveness, apparently turned against her by the mercilessness of her use-master, forcing her to endure slave ecstasy, and then, with a joyous sob, she became one with the ecstasy, and a yielding slave.

"Take the whip, and check the girls," said Ephialtes to Liadne.

"Yes, Master," she said, leaping up.

In a moment she was on the other side of the wagon. I turned about, peering under the wagon.

Liadne had knelt before the fellow who had put Amina in use. "Are you satisfied with the slave, Master," she asked.

I could see the terror in Amina's eyes.

"Yes," said the fellow, and left.

Liadne then knelt before the other fellow, who had risen now, next to the small, trembling, curvaceous Rimice. "Are you satisfied with the slave, Master?" asked Liadne.

Rimice looked down, frightened, at the dirt. Her fingers were pressed down, into it.

"Yes," said the fellow, and he, too, left.

Liadne then leaped to her feet, whip in hand. "On your backs, hands at your sides, palms up, slaves!" she said.

Immediately Amina and Rimice lay supine, parallel to one another, their hands at their sides, their palms up, the chains on their necks running to their individual stakes.

Liadne snapped the whip.

Both the supine slaves shuddered. I gathered they had felt the lash upon occasion.

"You did not do badly, Amina," said Liadne. "Thank you, Mistress!" said Amina. "But you will attempt to do better next time, will you not?" inquired Liadne.

"Yes, Mistress," Amina, the slave, assured her.

"But as for you, Rimice!" said Liadne, threateningly.

"Mistress?" quavered lovely Rimice. Liadne at that point snapped the whip again, angrily. "Mistress?" cried lovely Rimice, in fear.

"I think for a moment," said Liadne, "you attempted to resist the slave orgasm."

"I could not resist," said Rimice. "He would not permit it. He forced it from me!"

"But you tried, did you not?" asked Liadne.

"I could not resist it!" wept Rimice.

"But you tried," said Liadne.

"But I was unsuccessful," cried Rimice.

"You tried," said Liadne.

"But in a moment," wept Rimice, "I did yield to it!"

"But for a moment," said Liadne, "you dared to attempt to resist."

"I will not do so again!" cried Rimice. "I do not even want to do so again! I now know what it is to yield! I now want to yield! I know that resistance is forbidden me, but I do not even want to resist now! I want rather to behave as is fitting for me, as what I am, a slave!"

"You are now ready to be good slave?" asked Liadne.

"Yes, Mistress!" said Rimice. "Yes, Mistress!"

"You wish to be a good slave?"

"Yes, Mistress!"

"Who wants to be a good slave?" asked Liadne.

"Rimice wants to be a good slave!"

"And is Rimice going to be a good slave?" asked Liadne.

"Yes," wept Rimice, "Rimice is going to be a good slave!"

Sometimes even extremely hormonally feminine women, fearing the latent slave in themselves, attempt to resist. They will not become whole and perfect, of course, until they become what they are, slaves.

"Perhaps then it will not be necessary to lash you," mused Liadne.

"No, Mistress!" Rimice assured her.

"Are there Vennans in camp?" I asked.

"How could there be Vennans, here?" asked Ephialtes.

"Sell Amina to one," I said.

"But she herself was Vennan," he said.

"It does not matter," I said. "She is a slave now, and if she is returned to Venna she will be kept there, and serve there, as what she is, and only that and precisely that, a slave."

"Of course," said Ephialtes.

"Accept any reasonable offer," I said.

"Very well," he said.

"The fellow who just used Rimice," I said, "he who made her yield so well, and in so short a time, was, I think, a Cosian."

"Yes," said Ephialtes. "He has come back to use her almost every evening."

"Seek him out and see if he will make an offer on her," I said.

"I have little doubt he will make an offer on her," said Ephialtes.

"Accept any reasonable offer," I said.

"She was, of course, before being reduced to animal status, a Cosian," he said.

"And how do you think the fellow will see her?" I asked.

"Only as what she is, a slave," said Ephialtes.

"And will treat her, and handle her, accordingly?"

"Of course," said Ephialtes.

"Excellent," I said. "She may then, barefoot in the streets of Telnus, or Jad, or wherever, where once she may have walked in haughty pride, wear her collar, as any other slave."

Liadne returned to our side, put down the whip, to one side, and knelt near Ephialtes.

"We have been considering business," said he to Liadne. "In the morning I will attempt to sell Amina and Rimice. We have buyers in mind, and do not anticipate difficulty."

Liadne turned white.

"Later in the morning," he said, "Phoebe is to be prepared for presentation."

Liadne began to tremble.

I wondered what was wrong with her.

"Hopefully," said Ephialtes, addressing Liadne, but not seeming to take notice of her apparent agitation or distress, "we will clear accounts with my friend, Tarl, by tomorrow evening."

She swayed, and I was afraid she might swoon.

"What is wrong with Liadne?" I asked.

"What is wrong with you, girl?" inquired Ephialtes.

"Oh, Master!" she wept, suddenly, and threw herself to her belly, putting out her small hand piteously to him.

"What is wrong?" asked Ephialtes.

"What of Liadne!" she wept.

"You are not even a free woman, as Phoebe," said Ephialtes. "You are a slave, a property, as Amina and Rimice."

"I know, Master," she wept. "I know!"

Ephialtes looked at her, puzzled.

"Do not sell me!" she wept. "Do not sell me, Master!"

"I do not understand," said Ephialtes.

"I love you, Master," she said. "I love you!"

"I am not your master," he said. "Tarl, of Port Kar, is your master. I have been holding you for him."

"Do not sell me, Master!" she begged.

"I do not own you," said Ephialtes. "You are not mine to sell."

She began to sob, uncontrollably.

I now understood what had been troubling Liadne. I should have thought of it before.

"Has she been a good first girl?" I asked.

"Yes," said Ephialtes, "but an even better camp slave."

"Do you like her?" I asked.

"I am used to having her about," he said. "She is useful, for example, slept at one's feet, to keep them warm on cold nights."

"I can imagine," I said. Liadne was a beauty. He shrugged.

"I had thought," I said, "you might have taken a fancy to her."

"She is only a slave," he said, evasively.

"Perhaps you would care to make an offer on her?"

"I was intending to speak to you about such a matter," he admitted.

Liadne looked up, startled.

"What do you think she is worth?" I asked.

Liadne, on her belly, looked at us, hanging on every word. "I am prepared to offer you ten silver tarsks," he said.

"Oh, Master," wept Liadne. "I am not worth so much!"

"I am well aware of that," said Ephialtes, irritably. Liadne, even though a beauty, in the current markets, in this area, where most women were being wholesaled in lots, would probably not have brought more than a silver tarsk or two. Most women were being sold for copper tarsks, some even for a few tarsk bits.

"It seems you have taken a fancy to her," I said.

"She is only a slave," he said. I smiled.

"Fifteen silver tarsks," he said.

"I doubt that your wagon and goods, and tharlarion are worth so much," I said.

"Do you accept my offer?" he asked.

"I think you have taken a fancy to her," I said.

"How could that be," he said. "She is only a slave."

"It seems to me a possibility," I said.

"Absurd," said he.

"I see," said I.

"Do you accept my offer?" he asked. "No," I said.

Liadne put her cheek to the dirt, sobbing.

"I do not understand," he said.

"I cannot sell her," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because then I could not give her away."

" 'Give her away'?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Would you like her?"

"Of course," he said.

"Then she is yours," I said.

"Master!" cried Liadne, joyously.

"Subject to one condition," I said.

"Yes?" he said. "Liadne," said I.

"Master?" she asked.

"Do you think you can prepare Phoebe for presentation tomorrow morning," I asked.

"Of course," she said.

"I would like to have her ready for presentation at the ninth Ahn," I said. This was an Ahn before noon. There are twenty Ahn in the Gorean day.

"As master wishes," she said.

"I want her cleaned and brushed," I said, "but with absolutely no makeup or adornments. It is the female as she is in herself, at least on the whole, that I wish to present. She is, however, of course, as she is a free woman, to he presented in the modesty of a belly cord and slave strip. The strip, however, is to be narrow and the cord no more than a lace, these things conforming to her status as captive and full servant."

"I understand!" said Liadne.

"And I want her to kneel, and hold herself, with perfection," I said.

"She will be beautiful," said Liadne. "I will train her with the switch!"

"That is the condition?" inquired Ephialtes.

"Yes," I said.

"Do not fear, Master," said Liadne. "She will shine!"

"Excellent," I said. "My thanks for the meal, Ephialtes. Attend as you can to the business we discussed. I wish you well."

"I wish you well," said he, rising to his feet, and clasping my hand.

I then took my way from his camp. As I left I glanced into the wagon, to see the slave sack there, the two chains running into it, one toward the bottom, the other toward the top. Tomorrow Phoebe was to be presented. I also noted Amina and Rimice at their stakes. They looked up at me with fear, as I strode past. Their fates had been decided at supper. Tomorrow, if all went as expected, both would have new masters.