Tribesmen of Gor

“You wish to speak to me?” I asked.

“I am keeping the girl, of course,” he said. He looked at me. “Do you wish to do contest for her?” he asked.

“I do not need to decide that at the moment, do I?” I asked.

“Of course not,” said Hassan. “You are my guest.” He gri

“Hassan is generous.” I laughed.

“From the first instant I put my hands on her,” he said, “I decided that I would have her for my own.”

“Are you accustomed to taking what women you wish?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“If I had lost your trail,” I said, “how then would you have made contact with me?”

“You would not have lost the trail,” he said.

“But if so?” I asked.

“Then you would have been informed where to find your-my-pretty Alyena in chains. We would then have met.”

“But what if I attempt to slay you now?” I asked.

“You will not, for you are my guest,” said Hassan. “Besides, why should you bring such a slave into the desert with you, a blond-haired, white-ski

“Why?” I asked.

“Not as a simple slave,” he said. “You could buy and rent girls at any oasis.

You brought her for a purpose. You wished to sell her, or give her, to someone, in exchange for something, for aid, for information, for something.”

“You are astute,” I said.

“I hope,” he said. “That the female slave will not complicate relations between us.”

“How could a mere female slave, who is nothing, do that?” I asked.

“True,” said Hassan.

“She seems happy in your chains,” I said.

“She is a slave,” he said.

“It is unfortunate,” said I, “that she is white-ski

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Such women,” said I, “are cold.”

“Not when collared,” he said.

“Is she hot?” I asked.

I knew that the metal collar of a female slave, that obdurate circlet of steel, locked, which she could not remove, so contrasting with her softness, so proclaiming its vulnerability and rightlessness, often transformed even an inhibited, hostile, cold wench, hating men, into an abandoned, yielding, man-vulnerable, passionate slave girl, loving to lie helpless at the mercy of their touch, that of masters.

Hassan threw back his head and laughed. “She is the hottest thing I have ever held in my arms,” he said.

I smiled. I wondered how scandalized, how embarrassed and shamed the former Miss Priscilla Blake-Allen would be to hear her needs and her performance so boldly and publicly spoken of. The poor thing, however, could not help herself in the arms of a master.

“She loves you,” I told Hassan.

“I have given her no choice,” he said.

I supposed it true.

I supposed, further, that the rare event had here taken place of a girl meeting her true master, and a man his true slave girl. The girl, one among thousands less fortunate, had encountered a male. Surely, too, one among thousands, who could be, and was, to her and for her, her absolute and natural master, the ideal and perfect male for her, dominant and uncompromising, who could, and would, demand and get her full, yielding sexuality, which a woman can give only to a man who owns her totally, before whom, and to whom, she can be only an adoring slave. This happens almost never on Earth, where the normal male/female relationship is the result of a weak, pleasant male’s releasing of the female’s maternal instinct, rather than her usually frustrated instinct to submit herself fully to a truly dominant male as a held and owned, penetrated, submissive female; it does occur, however, with some frequency on Gor, where girls, slaves, are more frequently traded and exchanged. One tries different girls until one finds she, or those, who are the most exquisite, the most pleasing; one tends then, to keep them: this tends, too, to work out to the advantage of the women, the female slaves, but few, except themselves, are concerned with them, or their feelings: men, it is clear, have a need to dominate; few deny this: none deny it who are informed; in the Gorean culture, as it is not on Earth, institutions exist for the satisfaction of this need, rather than its systematic suppression and frustration; the major Gorean institution satisfying this need is the widespread enslavement of human females; the master/slave relationship is the deepest, clearest recognition of, and concession to, this masculine need, felt by all truly vital, sexual males: but, in the Gorean theory, this masculine need to dominate, which, thwarted, leads to misery, sickness, and petty, vicious, meaningless aggressions, is not an aberration, nor an uncomplemented biological singularity in males, but has its full complementary, correspondent need in the human female, which is the need, seldom satisfied, to be overwhelmed and mastered; in primitive mate competitions, in which intelligence and cu