Dancer of Gor

"But, at least, you were a collar now, as you should," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"You are now, at last, a legal slave."

"Yes, Master," I said, frightened. I was now, truly, here on this world, as I might have been in Ur, or Sumer, or Babylon, or Assyria, or Chaldea, or Egypt, or Greece, or Rome, or Persia, or Barbary, a legal slave, a slave held in full legality.

"Does it frighten you," he asked, "to find that you are a legal slave?" "Sometimes," I said.

"Does it terrify you?" he asked.

"Sometimes," I said.

"That makes no difference, of course," he said.

"I know," I said.

"You are a slave," he said, "whether you like it or not. That is simply what you are, that and only that. you are absolutely helpless to alter or change your condition in any way, as much as a vulo or a tarsk."

"I know," I said.

I felt his hands on my hips.

Sometimes I was terrified by the collar on my neck, knowing its meaning, knowing that it, like my brand, marked me slave, knowing how it put me at the mercy of masters, knowing that anything could be done to me.

His grip was bold. He was a master. I was a slave.

I tried to press my belly against him. His hands prevented this.

"You belong in a collar," he said.

"I know! I know!" I whispered.

"You are a superb collar-slut," he whispered.

"Tupita is your favorite," I whispered, frightened.

"No," he said.

"Who then?" I gasped, his grip tight on me, but holding me from him. "Doreen," he whispered.

"No!" I whispered.

"Are you afraid of Tupita?" he asked. "She is only a slave."

"I, too, am only a slave," I said, "and she is first girl!"

"She is losing her grip on the girls," he said. "She may not be first girl for long."

"Oh?" I asked. That interested me, that Tupita might be reduced in rank, to being then only one slut among others, she herself then having to kneel to another girl, be subject to her disciplines, and address her as "Mistress." "Who would be first girl?" I asked.

"It would not be you," he said. "You are from Earth."

"I do not want to be first girl," I said.

"Too," he said, "you are not the sort of woman who should be giving orders, but taking them."

"I am ready to take your orders now," I said.

"Are you no longer afraid of Tupita?" he asked.

"I am a slave," I said, lightly. "I must obey."

"I think it would probably be Aynur," he said, "Who would be the new first girl."

"Not Sita?" I asked.

"She has been too closely allied with Tupita," he said. "Do you think Aynur would make a good first girl?" he asked.

"I think so," I said. "She would be strict, but, I think, she would be fair."

"That, too, is the estimation of Hendow," he said.

"I think it is true," I said.

"You have great respect, it seems," he said, "for the judgment of Hendow." "He is my master," I said, guardedly. I did, in fact, have great respect for the judgment and intelligence of Hendow. Gross and loathsome as he might be, I had never, after our first interview, doubted his probity and acumen, nor, more significantly, from my point of view, his insight and native shrewdness. My most secret thoughts seemed to be open to him. He could read me like a book, or a naked, frightened slave.

"And he purchased you," said Mirus.

"Yes!" I laughed.

I felt his thumbs at the sides of my belly.

"I like these rounded bellies on women," he said. "In them a man may lose himself with pleasure. I do not like those firm, flat bellies on women." I said nothing. I felt his thumbs. They were not hurting me. I was pleased, of course, that Mirus, such a man, and such a master, found my sort of woman, one ru

"Perhaps Master desires to remove the belt from me," I said. "As I am bound, I ca

"Do you know that you are beautiful?" he asked.

"Some men have been kind enough to tell me so," I said. "I do not know, of course, if they are correct or not."

"They are correct," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said. It pleased me if Mirus should find me beautiful. He was a strong and handsome master. I wanted to serve him.

"Are you familiar with the ratings posted in the baths?" he asked.

"I have heard of such things," I said, reddening.

"In several of them," said he, "you now hold highest ranking in the tavern of Hendow."

"Higher than Inger?" I asked. "Then Aynur, than Tupita?"

"Yes," he said. "In some of them, at least."

"I am not better than them, really," I said. "I am sure of that." "That is for men to decide," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said, frightened.

"But," said he, gri

I looked at him.

"Too, you are a dancer," he said, "and this has undoubtedly improved your position. Many dancers, even plainer ones, hold high rankings."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"But one thing is certain," he said, "suck rankings, even granting their subjectivity, and their silliness, and all the nonsense and absurdity associated with them, point to something, and that is your beauty and desirability." I looked at him, frightened.

"You are one of the most beautiful and desirable slaves in Brundisium," he said. "I am in your grasp," I whispered.

I would have pressed my belly against him but I could not do so. He held me from him. I would have reached forth to touch him, but I could not do so. My hands had been bound behind my back, by his will.

"Hendow has received several offers for you," he said, "excellent ones, but he has not sold you."

I was startled. So simply I could change masters!

"Do you wish to know their nature?" he asked.

"Curiosity," I said, humbly, "is not becoming in a kajira."

"Very well," he said.

"Please! Please!" I begged.

"Two of them were from other tavern owners," he said. "But several have been from private individuals."