Dancer of Gor

"No, Master," I said hastily. I had hardly even seen Hendow, except here and there in the tavern. He had never even put me to intimate uses, suitable for slaves. Indeed, this had puzzled me a little, and made me wonder about my attractiveness, at least to him. Surely he made use often enough of other girls. Indeed, it seemed they much feared the call to his chamber, because of his ugliness and grossness. Too, I gathered, he was not gentle with them, and, in spite of their distress, misery and loathing, forced them to serve with uncompromising perfection. Indeed, in the slave areas, it seemed that most of them envied me my apparent immunity from his attentions. Interestingly enough, and perhaps paradoxically, I did not regard him with the same repulsion as many of my slave sisters. I feared him as my master, of course, but I also had a considerable respect for him, for the strength, the shrewdness, and intelligence I sensed in him. Also, I sometimes felt sorry for him. I thought that his life must have been very hard. He had once been betrayed, it seemed, and left for dead, by his best friend. Borko had avenged him. had I been summoned to his chamber I would have tried to serve him as well as I could. Too, though I was not eager to serve him, I was not really afraid to do so. Indeed, I had been sometimes curious about him, wondering what it might be like to serve him. Men are so different, one from another. Perhaps it was my willingness to be summoned to his chamber which had, paradoxically, effectuated my security in this matter. I did not know. Perhaps for some reason, known only to himself, he took delight in forcing frightened, unwilling women to his pleasure, and, if I am not mistaken, particularly women who found him dismaying or sickening, who might even loathe him. he would take such a woman, and then turn her inside out, with yielding to him. to be sure, when they returned, bruised and shuddering, scarcely able to walk, to the slave quarters, they had little doubt as to their femaleness or the power of their master. I did not think, however, that I had been summoned here for typical slave purposes. Surely nothing had suggested that to me. Too, he usually had women sent to him in the evening. I was not exactly sure why I had been summoned here. Perhaps it had been simply to inspect the piercing of my ears. He had done that. Perhaps, too, he had wanted to look upon me, naked, as his property. He had various girls, for it seemed that, truly, he was thinking about a change in "first girl." He had done that, too. I stood before him, at the foot of the carpeted dais, naked, in my collar. He looked down upon me. He seemed heavy in the chair. Almost somnolent. Yet I knew he was a creature of great energy, and vitality.

"Why are you frightened?" he asked.

"I am in the presence of my master," I said.

I was apprehensive. I had not been dismissed. I had not been permitted to kneel. He scrutinized me, not speaking.

I was very conscious of my brand and collar.

I regarded my master.

I was conscious, too, now, oddly, of the tiny, circular training pins in my ears by the metal worker yesterday morning. I stood before my master, I was now a pierced-ear girl. To an Earth girl, on Earth, at least, this might not seem to be a matter of great import, but I was not on Earth, and here, I knew, much things, somehow, rationally or not, had great import. In some way, they confirmed my slavery upon me, perhaps even more, here, than the brand and collar.

"You are an excellent and valuable slave," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said, relieved. Perhaps I had been brought here to be praised.

"You are a superb dancer," he said, "perhaps one of the best in Brundisium." "Thank you, Master," I said.

"Your name is written high in the lists at the baths," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"The business of the tavern has increased considerably since your acquisition," he said.

"I am pleased if I have been of value to my master," I said.

"Did Mirus tell you things of this sort two nights ago?" he asked.

"To some extent, yes, Master," I said. I had not seen Mirus since the day before yesterday.

"They are true," he said.

"Then I am pleased, Master," I said.

"Do you think you are a high slave?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said.

"Do you grow proud?" he asked.

"I do not think so, Master," I said. "I hope not, Master."

"To your right," he said, "against the wall, there is a box. Open it, and bring me its contents."

I turned about and went to the side of the room. There, against the wall, as he had said, there was a box, a heavy coffer, with iron bands, with a curved lid. I knelt before the box. I lifted the lid. In the box there was but one object, a slave whip.