Slave Girl Of Gor

I found a pan and poured wine into it, shallowly, and put it on the tiles before Elicia who, frightened, putting her head down, drank from it. She lifted her head. "You have made me drink like a she-sleen," she said.

"You are a slave," he said.

"Yes, Master," she said. He was teaching her her slavery.

"Now," said he, "you will serve me the second wine."

Elicia turned to me, frightened. She knew the second wine which was commanded of her. It was the wine of her slavery. Then she looked to Bosk, terrified.

"I shall withdraw, Master," I said.

"I do not know how to please a man, Master," said Elicia.

I saw this did not please Bosk.

"I do not know how, really, Master," she wept. "Forgive a slave, please!"

"Fetch the whip," said Bosk to me.

I went to fetch the whip.

"I will try, Master!" cried Elicia. Then she looked wildly at me. "Please, Mistress," she begged, "help me! Please help me, Mistress!"

"Does a slave wish assistance?" I asked.

"The slave, Elicia," she said, "begs the aid of Mistress."

I looked to Bosk of Port Kar. "Instruct her," he smiled, "with the whip."

I touched her on the neck with the whip. "Put your head down, Slave," I said. She did so. "Although you are only a slave your master is permitting you to serve him," I said. "This is a great honor." She seemed startled. Then it became clear to her that this was, for her, a slave, an honor. "You have a treasured opportunity," I pointed out, "to serve the master." "Yes, Mistress," she said. "A man such as Bosk of Port Kar," I said, "has many women. Will he keep you for himself, or will he throw you to his men, or sell you or discard you?" She trembled. "If you are not pleasing," I said, "you may be slain." She shuddered. "I will try to be pleasing," she stammered. "Do you wish to serve your master?" I asked. "Yes," she said, "yes, Mistress!"

I pointed to the feet of Bosk. "Hold his feet," I said. "Remove his sandals with your teeth."

She did so.

"Begin now," I said, "to lick and kiss below the left shin." She did so. "Desire to please the master as a slave girl," I said.

"I do," she suddenly said, throatily.

I laughed, and stepped back. She seemed startled. She looked up. There were tears in her eyes. "No!" she said, suddenly. "I did not mean that!"

Bosk laughed and slipped to the furs beside her and threw her on her back. She looked up at him, terrified. "I shall have her instructed in long lovings at my leisure," said Bosk to me. "Obviously she is an ignorant slave."

Elicia squirmed on the furs, the Earth girl in her suddenly fighting to retain her self-image.

"No," she wept. "I am not a slave! I am not a slave!"

Bosk kissed her on the throat, and she closed her eyes. I saw her small hands seize at him.

"I am not a slave," she said to him, her eyes open, sternly.

"Touch her," laughed Bosk to me. "Feel the helpless oil and heat of her."

She cried out in misery.

"Naughty, naughty, Elicia!" I laughed.

She looked at me, in fury.

"You are a slave, Elicia!" I laughed delightedly. I was very pleased to have learned this.

She threw back her head, wildly, twisting it from side to side. Bosk had touched her.

I saw her eyes, wild, trying to retain the image of the Earth girl. Then, suddenly, I saw that she was becoming sensuous, uncontrollable, appetitious. She was fighting the Gorean slave girl in herself. In the arms of a man such as Bosk of Port Kar I did not think her struggle would be successful. He toyed with her resistance, sometimes permitting it to become stronger, sometimes even letting her think she might be able to withstand him, but then again he would begin to induce in her, subtly, the surrender spasms of the female slave. She well knew he was playing with her. "Beast," she wept, "how long will you sport with me?" Many times he brought her to the verge of surrender, teeth clenched, eyes shut, and then let her subside, retaining yet, to her cruel disappointment, a shred of her Earth-girl dignity. "I do not want to be a slave," she would cry. But I could see that her eyes, and her body, locked in his arms, were begging him to complete her conquest. How small she seemed in his arms. "You squirm as a slave girl, Elicia," I observed. "No!" she would cry, in her collar. She tried to hold herself still, rigid, but, when he chose, could not do so. "At his least touch, Elicia," I pointed out to her, "you leap as a slave." "No," she would cry. "No!" But it was clear to me that she wanted him to make her a slave girl. She wanted to be his slave girl. "I will show you," she said to me, "how a woman can resist a man." Then he had rolled away from her, turning his back to her. "I am weary," he said. "I would sleep." I suddenly saw, to my amusement, fear, and keen disappointment, registered on the countenance of the beautiful Elicia. "Master?" she said. She turned to him. She touched him on the shoulder. "Please, Master," she said. "What is it?" he asked. Elicia swallowed hard. I was present. "Please do not stop touching your slave, Master," she said. I laughed, but Elicia was not deterred. "Why?" he asked. "Because I am your slave," she said, acknowledging herself his. I smiled gently, but Elicia did not notice. I saw that she was truly his slave. I felt great happiness for her. "Does the slave Elicia beg the touch of her master?" he asked. "The slave Elicia," she said, "piteously and humbly begs with all her heart the touch of her master, Bosk of Port Kar." He rolled over and seized her. "You are a slave, Elicia," I said to her. "Yes," she said, "I am a slave." Then she cried out to Bosk of Port Kar, "The slave is yours. Take her, Master!" Quietly I withdrew.

Gently, with his foot, Bosk of Port Kar awakened me. I had lain asleep at the foot of the curule chair in the outer room.

"It is nearly midnight," he said to me. "I must be away."

"Yes, Master," I said, rubbing my eyes.

Elicia knelt behind him. Her hands were tied behind her back.

He would take her to the roof and tie her over the saddle of his tarn, carrying her away to Port Kar.

I looked at her.

Her. dark hair was loose about her shoulders. I could see the gold of the earrings almost hidden in the hair, the steel collar on her throat. There is something vulnerable, sensuous and soft about a female slave. She was beautiful in her bondage.

"May a slave speak?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

She looked up at him, his slave. "I know," she said; "that I am to be taken to Port Kar and will there be assiduously interrogated."

"Yes," he said.

"I will speak all I know," she said.

"That is true, Slave," he said.

"But then?" she begged. "What then, when I am emptied of information and can be of no further use to you in your strategies? What then will be done with me? Will I then be bound and thrown to the urts in your canals?"

"Perhaps," he said.

"Is there no hope for my life?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "You are beautiful," he said to her, in explanation.

"I will try to be pleasing," she said. She pressed her lips to his thigh. She had been well conquered.

I had little doubt the beautiful Elicia, even when rendered valueless in the conflicts of worlds, would be kept for the pleasures of men; again I looked upon her; no longer was she a high agent of a mysterious power of interplanetary proportions; she was now only a lovely, bound Gorean slave girl.

"On your feet, Slave," said Bosk of Port Kar to Elicia.

She rose lightly to her feet.

In his hand he had the gag he would fix upon her before taking her to the roof.

"Please, Master," she begged. "A moment, please, Master."

He stepped back.

Elicia approached me, her hands tied behind her, the collar on her throat. "We are both now slaves," she said, "Judy."

"Yes," I said, "Elicia."