Dancer of Gor

My new master then turned about, with a swirl of those long robes, and began to make his way across the square. I hurried after him, heeling him. I was naked, of course. I had removed the ta-teera for my dance, and had not put it back on. My new master had bought me, not the ta-teera. That belonged to the musician, my former master. A new girl would presumably wear it soon, as some, it seemed, had before me. I hoped that my new master would permit me clothing, at least in public. Even the tiny slave tunics and the scandalous ta-teerae are precious to a girl. Too, she is not insensible of how they show off her charms.

"May I speak, Master?" I called after him, hurrying behind him.

"Yes," he said.

"May I inquire the name of my master?" I asked.

"You will learn it soon enough," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said. It was doubtless on my collar, but, obviously, without a mirror, I could not read the collar where it was locked on my neck. Too, even had I had a mirror, I could not read.

He walked rapidly, purposefully.

He had paid five silver tarsks for me. That was a great deal of money. My former master would have no difficulty getting another girl, or more than one, for such an amount.

"Master paid a great deal of money for me," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Am I worth so much?" I asked.

"I think so," he said.

"May I inquire for what purpose Master has purchased me," I asked.

"You will learn soon enough," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Curiosity is not becoming in a kajira," he reminded me.

"Yes, Master," I said, frightened. But he did not turn about to strike me, or discipline me.

I hurried along behind him. it was now late in the afternoon. The square was not crowded now. The public places and baths would soon be closed. I saw more men, some with clients in their train, leaving the square. I turned about, briefly. The square was very beautiful, even at this time of day. I did not see my former master. He had apparently left the square. I then turned about, again, and hurried even more rapidly after my new master. I did not want to lag too far behind, outside the normal heeling distance.

18 The Grating; The Garments

"Over the grating, on the walkway," said the man.

I dreaded leaving the tavern in this fashion.

One of the men patted me on the behind. "Do not be afraid," he said. "They will soon be shipped out, to make room for others."

The sunken, iron-walled pits were below the level of the basement, in which my own cell was. They were covered with locked gratings. My cell was not a kennel, but a cell. It was very well appointed, as cells for slave girls go. I could not stand fully upright in it, and I must leave it through a small gate, on my hands and knees, or belly, but it was large enough to move about in, and it was floored with carpet. In it, too, were furs. I had water and wastes" bucket. Cushions had been permitted me, an incredible luxury. To be sure, I was sometimes ordered to kneel upon one, or another of them, usually while receiving instructions. In this cell, too, there was a mirror. Too, there were various tiny boxes, containing jewelry and cosmetics. There was also a trunk, for silks. I might prepare myself here for the floor, or for the dance. There was even a lamp outside the cell, affording light, when the men saw fit to have it lit. sometimes, before fellows were brought past the cell, bound or chained, thence to be incarcerated in one of the pits, I would be instructed to lie seductively on the furs and cushions. At such times I was sometimes given chocolates to eat. "Let them have something pleasant to remember," had said one of the fellows, at one of these times. "We would not want them to forget you," had said another. I hastened across the grating. I heard howls of rage from beneath me. A hand reached up, grasping for me, through the grating. One of the men with me kicked it away from me. Its fist clenched, helplessly, in fury. I was then over the grating.

"Your garments for the afternoon," said one of the fellows behind me, "are in the back hall, near the back entrance."

When I was ready to leave the tavern one of the men would check the alley, to make certain that my departure would be unnoticed.

19 The Streets of Argentum; The Belly Chain and Disk

"Sir," I said, "forgive me for daring to speak to you, but only the kindness of your countenance encourages my audacity."

"Lady?" he inquired.

"I am in desperate straits," I whispered piteously.

"You are a beggar?" he asked.

I put down my head, as though in shame.

"Forgive me, Lady," he said. "These are hard times."

I looked up, my eyes over the veil. "You are understanding," I whispered. "I was rude," he said. "I am sorry."

"One such as you could not be rude," I said, half weeping. "Clearly, too, you are kind, and noble." He was also large and strong.

"May I be of aid to you?" he asked.