Dancer of Gor

"Good," she said, relieved, kneeling back.

I looked at her, sharply, and she put down her head. I suspected then that her belly had found its love master. To be sure, we slaves must leap to the touch of any man. I did not see any need to tell her of the "gentlewoman," to whose female training Aulus had been asked to contribute.

"You know that most of the men with the chains were freed?" said Tupita.

"Yes," I said.

"He went toward Venna," she said.

"I know," I said.

"He made no attempt to negotiate for me, or secure me," she said.

"I am sorry," I said.

"apparently your blood is of more interest to him than my love," she said. "You think he still desires to kill me?" I asked.

"I know he does," she said.

I shuddered. I was helpless at the bottom of the shaft. Were he to come upon me here how could I escape? Perhaps he would lower the rope and bucket for the others, and not me? Perhaps he would throw great stones down upon me? Perhaps he would lower poisonous insects or snakes into the pit? Perhaps he would leave me here to starve?

Tupita then began to tear her tunic, about the hem.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I am going to give you some clothing," she said, "if you want it." "Your tunic barely covers you," I said.

She had then torn a narrow strip from about the hem of the garment, and where the strip parted, tied the lengths together. "This will give you a belt," she said. She then tore down a part of her bodice.

"Tupita!" I protested.

"We will both be bare-breasted slaves," she said. "Are you former Earth women, ashamed of the beauty of your breasts?"

"No," I said.

"Here," she said, handing me the narrow strips, knotted together, taken from the hem of her skirt. "Roll it. Twist it in your hands. It will be stronger. That is it. Good. Now tie it about your waist."

I fastened this fragile, narrow, improvised cordlike belt of twisted and rolled cloth about me, knotting it at the left hip. It was a slip knot, such that masters might remove it at a tug.

"Here," she said, handing me the strip of cloth she had torn from her bodice. I placed it carefully, gratefully, the loose end inside, next to my belly, over the rolled cloth. I smoothed it out.

"I see that you know how to insert a slave strip in a belly cord," she said. "Of course," I said.

"Let us see you now," she said, "in your collar and cloth." She inspected me. "I gather you are a low slave," she said, "from the exposure of your bosom and the poor quality of the belt and cloth you wear."

"Yes, Mistress," I smiled.

"Yet you are pretty," she mused.

"Thank you, Mistress," I smiled.

"And the cloth you wear, aside from questions of its quality, is suitable," she said, "It is such that it may be easily pulled aside."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. The wearing of such cloths, and tunics, that may be removed with ease, and such, serves various purposes. For example, obviously it provides her some shielding. On the other hand, because of its precarious nature, and its dependence on a man" s permissions and indulgence, it also acutely increases her sense of possible exposure and vulnerability. Such clothing, then, tends to help remind her, and quite clearly, that she is a female slave. It also, of course, because of its nature, and in spite of what might be her wishes or desires in the matter, tends, on a deep psychological and physiological level, to be erotically arousing to her. It puts her more at the mercy of men. It is difficult to be dressed as a slave and not, in time, even if one is a free woman, come to feel, and desire, as a slave. Indeed, it is a not uncommon first step in the enslavement of a free woman merely to dress her as a slave.

"Am I ready to go out on the floor now?" I asked. The "first girl" in a tavern often inspects her inferiors, before she permits them on the floor.

"I think now," she smiled. "But you would perhaps do in the hay for the rough pleasures of a drover."

I laughed, and so, too, did Tupita, but then we looked about ourselves, at the sheer walls of the shaft about us, and up at the opening, doubtless wide enough, but from here, seemingly so small, seemingly so far above. I noticed again, oddly enough, yet interestingly, how one could see the stars from this place even during the afternoon.

We then sat down in the pit, on the dried leaves, on the gravel, quiet, subdued, our backs against the sides of the shaft.

We did not know what our fate would be.

"Is there one beast, or more?" asked Tela.

"We do not know," said Tupita.

"We are kept in ignorance!" cried Tela. "They do not let us know anything! We do not know where we are! We do not know the nature of our captors, or even their number! We do not know what they intend to do with us! They treat us likea€”likea€”"

"Like slave girls?" asked Tupita.

Tela looked at her, and struck her small fists on her bared thighs in frustration.

"Yes!" she wept.

"You are no longer the free woman, Lady Liera Didiramache of Lydius," said Tupita. "You are now Tela, a slave."

"They treat us as they wish!" she cried.