Gor - Witness Of Gor Part 36

I was silent.

I lay back in the net, bound.

"Men are fools!" she cried.

It was she, of course, and not they, who seemed to be in some sort of confinement.

"They are fools!" she wept.

The men I had seen on this world did not seem to me to be fools.

Indeed, they seemed to be anything but fools. By the force and intellect in them I had often felt awed.

They did make many men of my old world now, in this perspective, seem fools. Here men seemed a.s.sured of themselves. They had not been confused, and bled, and subverted, and crippled, by a sick society. Here they had never surrendered their natural dominance. Here, for the first time, I had begun to understand what true men might be like, in all their splendor, in all their natural, b.e.s.t.i.a.l magnificence.

"How I hate men!" she cried. "How I despise them!"

I would certainly not respond to this. Indeed, what if she were a spy, set to examine me, perhaps even, cruelly, to trap me into some insolent inadvertence, trying to tease from me some careless, thoughtless, prideful, idly arrogant remark? Too, of course, more importantly, I did not, in fact, hate the men I had found here, nor did I despise them. If anything, I tended to admire them, and feel grateful toward them.

Too, they tended to excite me, as a female, as few men of my old world had. To be sure, I did regard them with a healthy respect, even fear. They were, after all, the masters.

"But what could one such as you, of low caste," said the voice, "know of one of my sensitivity and nature? How could one such as you understand the feelings of one such as I?"

"Only with great difficulty, if at all, doubtless," said I, perhaps somewhat testily.

"But have no fear," said she. "I will be patient with you. We are, after all, despite the discrepancies in our caste, sisters in sorrow, in misery and grief."

I was silent.

"We have in common our precious freedom," she said.

I did not respond to this. To be sure, I was confident that she was in some sort of confinement, and I lay bound and naked, in a net. But I did not doubt she had in mind some more serious sense of freedom, and one that made me uneasy. From things she had said, I had little doubt but what she was, in a sense important on this world, "free." On the other hand, in a sense also important on this world, and doubtlessly more profoundly important, I was not "free" It was riot merely that I had a collar on my neck, close-fitting and locked as it might be, and a brand on my thigh, lovely and unmistakable, put there deeply and clearly for all to see.

Nor was it even that my nature was such as to put me helplessly, lovingly, and appropriately at a man's feet. It was rather that in the full legalities of a world, in the full sanction of the totality of its customs, practices and inst.i.tutions, in the fullness of its very reality. I was not free. I was an animal, a property, a slave.

I had had little, if anything, to do with free women. I had encountered two of them earlier, in the pens, and not pleasantly. I have briefly, as I recall, recounted the nature of that interlude elsewhere. I did know that an impa.s.sable gulf separated me from such lofty creatures, an unbridgeable chasm one of the same immeasurability that separated the lowliest of domestic animals, which slaves were, from the heights and glories of the free person.

"What is your caste?" she asked.

I was silent.

"Mine is the Merchants," she said.

"That is not a high caste is it?" I asked. I had heard conflicting things about the Merchants.

"It certainly is!" she cried.

I was silent.

"I would take you to be of the Leather Workers," she speculated.

I did not respond.

"Or perhaps, less," she said, "you are one of those boorish la.s.ses from the fields, that you are of the Peasants."

Again I did not respond.

"That is doubtless it," she said, seemingly satisfied.

The Peasants were generally regarded as the lowest of the castes, though why that should be I have never been able to determine. That caste is sometimes referred to as "the ox on which the Home Stone rests." I am not clear as to what a Home Stone is, but I have gathered that it, whatever it might be, is regarded as being of great importance on this world. So, if that is the case, and the Peasants is indeed the caste upon which the Home Stone rests, then it would seem, at least in my understanding, to be a very important caste. In any event, it would seem to me that the Peasants is surely one of, if not the, most significant of the castes of this world. So much depends upon them! Too, I am sure they do not regard themselves as being the lowest of the castes. In fact, I doubt that any caste regards itself as being the lowest of the castes. It would seem somewhat unlikely that any caste would be likely to accept that distinction.

Perhaps many castes regard themselves as equivalent or, at least, as each being the best in diverse ways.

For example, the Leather Workers would presumably be better at working leather than the Metal Workers, and the Metal Workers would presumably be better at working metal than the Leather Workers, and so on. One needs, or wants, it seems, all the castes.

"Yes," she said, "you are of the Peasants."

I was silent.

I trusted she would not fall into the clutches of peasants. I understand that they are not always tolerant of the laziness and insolence of arrogant, urban free women. They enjoy using them, when they obtain them as slaves, in the fields. I wondered how the woman in the darkness would feel, sweating, harnessed naked to a plow, subject to a whip, or crawling, perhaps hastened by the jabbing of a pointed stick, into a dark, low log kennel at night. But perhaps she would be permitted to sleep chained at her master's feet, within reach, at his discretion. But I feared it might be dangerous to speak to this person.

To be sure, we were both in the darkness. But she was free. I was not free.

"Do not be sensitive that you are only of the Peasants," said the woman. "There is much to be said for the caste."

"Yes," I said. "Those who eat are often thought to owe it a debt of grat.i.tude."

"Surely," she agreed.

That seemed to me quite generous on her part.

"You were doubtless picked up on a country road," she said, "perhaps ravished in the nearest ditch."

"Perhaps," I said.

"I myself was the victim of an elaborate plot, an intricate stratagem to secure a highborn prize for ransom."

"Oh?" said I.

"As you are merely of the Peasants," said she, "you must fear, terribly."

"Why is that?" I asked, not that I was not afraid. I was a slave.

"They may not hold you for ransom, you see," she said.

I was silent.

"I hesitate to call this to your attention, but you must face the possibility, my dear," she said.

"These men are brutes, powerful brutes! They may have another fate in store for you, one we dare not even think of!"

"What?" I asked.

"How obtuse you are, my dear," she said.

I did not speak.

"You are of low caste," she said. "Surely you can guess."

I was silent.

"The collar!" she whispered.

I was silent. I was relieved, muchly. I had feared, from her tone of voice, and such, that she might have had something else, something dreadful, in mind, such as being thrown to a sixlegged carnivore of the sort which I had encountered on the ledge, or on the surface of the tower. But I did not think I would have to fear such a thing unless I proved to be displeasing, and I had no intention of being displeasing, at least if I could help it. Not only was I determined to be pleasing, if only as a matter of simple prudential consideration, that I might not be whipped or slain, but I genuinely, authentically, sincerely wanted to be pleasing. Something in me, from the time of p.u.b.erty onward, had wanted to serve men, and love them, helplessly, and fully. Yes, I admit it, and on this world the admission costs me naught! I want to please men!

Denounce me if you will but I am such! But, too, perhaps you know not men such as are on this world!

In their presence I find myself docile, submissive, and obedient. Let their free women rant at them, contradict them, and attempt to make them miserable, for whatever strange reasons might prompt them to do so, but before them, before such men, I am only, and can be only, a slave.

"Yes," whispered the voice in the darkness, "the collar!"

But I already wore a collar! I could feel it, even now, on my neck. It was a state collar, I had been informed. I was not eager to be owned by a state, of course. I would have preferred to be owned by a given man, a private individual. I wanted to be a treasure to a man, and to love and serve him, with all my heart. Perhaps if I were very pleasing, he would not beat me, or sell me.

"Because of my rumored beauty," said she, "there was no dearth of ardent fellows who would compete to be my swain. Many gifts I had from them. And I gave nothing!

One lesser known begged me to attend a rendezvous in a jeweler's shop, one which had but recently opened its doors in the city, that I might there pick for myself the finest of a dozen ruby necklaces, which he would then purchase for me. And as he would be a secret swain, one who accosted me from time to time amasked, purportedly that the elevation of his birth not be betrayed, the rendezvous was to be clandestine. My curiosity was piqued, naturally.

And when he showed me a sample of the sort of necklaces in question, I feared my head was turned."

"What happened?" I asked.

"I would meet him at the new shop, that very afternoon, secretly," she said. "I did not even have my palanquin borne there, but descended from it at a park, ordering my bearers to await me. I then made my way afoot, by circuitous, devious paths, though it was more than a quarter of a pasang, to the shop."

I did not think that that was very far, though, to be sure, I was not really familiar with linear measurements on this world.

"In a rear room in the shop, shut away from the sunlight and bustle of the street, he met me amasked, I veiled. In this room, in the lovely light of golden lamps, were the dozen necklaces displayed. I know the worth of such objects. I was muchly impressed. I selected the largest, and finest, of course."

"Please, continue," said I.

"It contained more than a hundred rubies," she said.

"Please," I said.

""May I place it about your neck?" he asked. I saw no harm in this, it being done, of course, over my robes and veils. And he did so. It would have been hard for me to do it myself, you understand."

"Of course," I said.

"There was a mirror in the room, and I could see him behind me, as well as sense him there, as he put the necklace about my neck, and closed its clasps. I had never been necklaced by a man before. There seemed something unsettling in it, somehow, the tiny click of the clasps, and such."

I was silent.

"I continued to gaze into the mirror. How beautiful I seemed! And how strikingly lovely, too, was the necklace, in its numerous, softly s.h.i.+ning strands. And he was still close behind me, quite close. I felt uneasy. I could not understand this feeling. A soft sound, a gasp, I fear, escaped me. He was so near. I even felt weak. 'It is pretty,' I informed him, lightly. 'It pleases me that it pleases you,' said he. His voice sounded very deep, very strong. He was close behind me. Then he put his hands on my upper arms. I saw him holding me, thusly, in the mirror. I wavered in weakness. Perhaps the room was close. I knew that if he chose, I was in his power.

But it was unthinkable, of course, that he might press his advantage, perhaps even to the alarming extent of touching his lips to my shoulder. He was a gentleman, surely. Yet he seemed very close, and very strong. Should a gentleman seem such? It did not seem so He made me feel uneasy I resolved not to like this sensation. I decided that I would teach him to respect a woman. He would be reminded of the behavior which was expected of him.

I would put him in his place. I would taunt, and torment, him. 'Perhaps you would care to be rewarded for your gift,' I said. 'Perhaps you would like me, for a moment, to lower my veil,' I said, 'that you might glimpse my features.' 'Dare I hope for so much?' he said. 'No,' I said.

'And unhand me!' I said, sternly, sharply. Instantly he removed his hands from my arms, and stepped back. I thought that a fleeting smile crossed his features, but I must have been mistaken. I again regarded myself in the mirror. I was truly quite beautiful. 'I will leave now,' I said. 'Of course,' said he."

"You did not thank him for the necklace?" I asked.

"No," she said "Such things are owed to such as I from such as he."

"And you did not, even for an instant, lower your veil?" I asked.

"Certainly not," she said, angrily. "What do you think I am?"

I was silent.

"I am a free woman," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"I went then through the shop, to the street outside. Fortunately, a public palanquin was nearby, no more than a few yards away. I was pleased. Thus I need not walk, and perhaps soil my slippers in the public streets. With a gesture, my swain summoned it for me. He gave a coin to the first bearer. I somewhat impatiently awaited my swain s hand, that he might graciously a.s.sist me into the palanquin. He did so. I then reclined within the palanquin, adjusting my robes and veils about me. I would not so much as glance at my scorned swain. Let him suffer, tormenting himself as to how he might have displeased me. I had the necklace, and so it did not matter whether or not, really, I saw him again. The transaction had been a profitable one from my point of view. On the other hand, I did find the buffoon of interest. And he must be rich, for he had afforded such a necklace. And, indeed, who knew what further largesse one might obtain from such as he, particularly if one handled such matters cleverly, what further rare and precious encouragements such as he might lavish upon me, to woo my favor? My favor, I a.s.sure you, would not be easily won, if at all. Let the necklace be but the first of a succession, I thought, of ever richer and more hopefully, more desperately proffered gifts, the first of many similarly tendered inducements. In such a way, I might make clear to him, he might hope to add some weight, some charm, perhaps even some persuasiveness, to his entreaties. And his mask suggested he must be highborn, perhaps one of the highest born in the city. There would then be, I speculated, even should I deign to permit the relations.h.i.+p to develop, no difficulty, or impediment, with respect to caste. One must be careful about such things, you know. Surely he had tried to conceal his ident.i.ty, that the shame of my rejection, which he surely must have realized he might risk, not be too publicly broadcast. He would come back, of course, for doubtless he was smitten by me, as a man may be by a highborn free woman. After all, I was not one of those curvaceous, scarcely clad little s.l.u.ts whose job it is to attend, and with perfection, to a man's baser instincts. Such meaningless slime is easily come by. It may be purchased cheaply in any city, even at many a crossroads."

"Yes," I said. Many of us were doubtless not expensive. I did not even know how expensive I might have been, had it not been for some special characteristics pertaining to me, in particular, my newness to the world, and my consequent ignorance, conjoined with an adeptness in the language unusual for so new a slave. To be sure, I was supposedly quite pretty, and I was certainly, sometimes to my chagrin, extremely helplessly s.e.xually responsive.

Such things, too, might have improved my price. I did not know, of course, what I had cost. I did not think I had come too cheaply, but, too, perhaps, my price had not been too dear. I really did not know.

It had been conjectured, above, that I might easily be a "silver-tarsk girl," but I did not really understand what that might be. The "silver tarsk," I supposed, was a coin, and being a "silvertarsk girl" would presumably mean that I might be expected to bring as much as a "silver tarsk" to whoever sold me, but all this was not that illuminating as I had no clear idea of the values involved. I had gathered, however, that it would be a good price for one such as I. And this price, I gathered, had much to do with what was coming to be in me, I feared, an easily aroused, quickly ignited, uncontrollable, unrestrainable pa.s.sion.

And my beauty, too, if beauty it was, I supposed, would not be likely to reduce my price either. I trust that the reader, if this ever finds a reader, or readers, will not be shocked by this sort of thing. Just as men will buy one animal for speed, perhaps for racing, and another for strength, perhaps for draft purposes, they will buy another for beauty and pa.s.sion, for the purposes of their compartments and furs.

To some extent this still disturbed me, but I recognized my helplessness in these matters. It was not only that I knew I must well please a master, and heatedly respond to him, if I did not wish to put my life in jeopardy, for I was owned, but that I could not have helped myself. Men had done this to me. I was now theirs. Let those who can understand these things understand them. Let those who cannot understand them not do so. What other choice have they? "And it did not matter," said she, "what his caste might be, a.s.suming it was high, for I was of the Merchants, one of the highest of castes, there being non higher, I insist on that, saving perhaps that of the Initiates."

I knew little or nothing of the Initiates, but I had heard that such as I were not allowed in their temples, lest we profane them. Normally, if our masters attended their services, we would be chained, or penned, outside. along with other animals.

"So," said she, "whatever his caste, a.s.suming it was high, of course, it would be practical for us to contemplate a companions.h.i.+p, and if his caste should be thought higher than mine, however mistakenly, I could, in such a relations.h.i.+p, be thought to raise caste. Why should I not, in virtue of my beauty, attain to the highest of castes, a.s.suming the Merchants was not already regarded, correctly, of course, as such-yes, to the very highest of castes, saving only that of the Initiates, of course."

It seemed clear to me that she did not really believe, whatever might be her protestations, that the Merchants was a high caste. She would be only too eager, it seemed, to "raise caste."

What had love to do with such things, I wondered. Why should she wish to raise caste? Surely that was not truly important. Caste considerations seemed to me artificial, and rather meaningless, except as they tended to reflect sets of related occupations. Suppose there was something to caste. Why should she feel herself ent.i.tled to raise caste? What was special about her Why should a Merchant's daughter aspire to a higher caste? With what justification? Why should she be permitted to raise caste? Why should she not look for love in her own caste, or in a lower caste? Why should she not look for love wherever she found it, regardless of caste? But then I was not Gorean. She was a free woman, of course; she could bargain, plan and plot to improve her position in society. How different from a slave. The slave's position in society is fixed, as fixed as the collar on her neck. She cannot sell herself. but is sold. She must serve the humblest master with the same heat, devotion and perfection as the administrator of a city. In fact, I have sometimes wondered if the existence of kajirae on this world does not contribute to its stability. The man who has everything from a woman is not likely to be dissatisfied, cruel and viciously ambitious. He tends to be happy, and happy men are not likely, on the whole, and absent serious provocations, to disrupt society. And the slave, of course, hopes to find her love master, whom she desires in the fullness of her femininity to serve submissively, diligently, gratefully, and joyously, he who will care for her, and love her, and treasure her as a slave of slaves. It is to his whip she wishes to be subject. In all their tenderness he will never let her forget whose collar she wears, and she loves him for it, his strength, and his gift to her, fully and uncompromisingly mastering her.

I wondered if in the free woman, so haughty there in the darkness, there was any femininity, or a woman.

She seemed to have no sense as to what it might be to be a woman.

Doubtless her ransom would be paid, and she would never learn.