|
 Kisses, In GeneralHere are relevant references from the Books where Kisses, In General are mentioned. I make no pronouncements on these matters, but report them as I find them. Arrive at your own conclusions. I wish you well, Fogaban On a tower of Thentis I left her, kissing her, removing from my neck her clinging hands. The image of the treacherous, beautiful Talena, in her dancing silks, as she had lain in my arms, tormented me - she who would gladly give her kisses to the cold Pa-Kur for a place on the throne of Ar, she whose implacable hatred had sent me to this terrible death, not even permitting me the honor of a warrior's end. She dropped her head shyly. "He pulled away my silver mask and kissed me," she said, "so that I could not even cry for help." "Yes," she said, "but I do not care, for I would rather wear the camisk and have felt his kiss, than live forever behind my silver mask." Her shoulders shook. I wished that I could have taken her in my arms, and comforted her. "I am a degraded creature," she said, "shamed, a traitress to all that is highest in Tharna." Her lower lip trembled, ever so slightly. Almost imperceptibly she bit it to control its movement, lest I should see. I found her magnificent. There was a tiny drop of blood on her lips. I shook my head to drive away the thought that I wanted with my tongue to taste the blood on her lips, to kiss it from her mouth. I kissed her. Holding her head in my hands I looked into her eyes. "Andreas!" cried Linna, and she made as if to slap him for his insolence, but he quieted her with a kiss, and she playfully began to nibble at the bread clenched between his teeth. In parting we kissed. And I kissed her and we parted. I kissed her and lowered her gently to the floor. I untied her wrists and kissed her. She rushed across the case and into my arms. I held her for a moment and kissed her and her kiss met mine wet and warm, sweet and hot and salty with the tears that had coursed down her cheeks and then I threw her back and she stumbled across the case and fell to her knees against the wall on the opposite side. I kissed her. "Perhaps someday," she said, "I will find a Free Companion such as you." "Few," I said, "would be worthy of Vika of Treve." She looked at me tears in her eyes. "Turian girls are never freed," she said. "Never." I shook her and kissed her. "You, Dina of Turia," I said, "are free." Then I shook her again. "Do you want me to ride to the walls and throw you over?" I demanded. She laughed through her tears. "No," she said, "no!" I lifted her to her feet and she suddenly kissed me. "Tarl Cabot!" she cried. "Tarl Cabot!" It seemed like lightning to us both that she had cried my name as might have a free woman. And indeed it was a free woman who cried those words, Dina, a free woman of Turia. "Oh, Tarl Cabot," she wept. Then she regarded me gently. "But keep me a moment longer yours," she said. "You are free," I said. "But I would serve you," she said. I smiled. "There is no place," I said. "Ah, Tarl Cabot," she chided, "there is all the Plains of Turia." "The Land of the Wagon Peoples, you mean." She laughed. "No," she said, "the Plains of Turia." "Insolent wench," I observed. But she was kissing me and by my arms was being lowered to the grasses of the spring prairie. When I had lifted her to her feet I noted, in the distance, a bit of dust moving from one of the gates of the city towards us, probably two or three warriors mounted on high tharlarion. The girl had not yet seen them. She seemed to me very happy and this, naturally, made me happy as well. Then suddenly her eyes clouded and her face was transformed with distress. Her hands moved to her face, covering her mouth. "Oh!" she said. "What's wrong?" I asked. "I cannot go to Turia!" she cried. "Why not?" I asked. "I have no veil!" she cried. I cried out in exasperation, kissed her, turned her about by the shoulders and with a slap, hardly befitting a free woman, started her on the way to Turia. At last his fist was within the Turian collar itself and he drew the girl, piteous and exhausted, to his lips, subduing her with his kiss, and then her arms were about his neck and unresisting, obedient, her head to his chest, she was lifted lightly in his arms and carried from the firelight. She kissed me again. "Vella of Gor," said she, "loves master." I kissed her. "I wonder who will be his favorite?" she asked. "Let them both try to please him," I suggested, "each more than the other." She looked at me reproachfully. "He is a cruel, cruel master," she said. "Doubtless," I admitted. For a long time we kissed and touched. And from time to time, during the night, each of the girls, Vella of Gor and the little barbarian, Miss Elizabeth Cardwell, begged, and were permitted, to serve the pleasure of their master. Yet he, unprecipitate and weighing matters carefully, still could not decide between them. It was well toward morning, and he was nearly asleep, when he felt them against him, their cheek pressed against his thigh. "Girls," mumbled he, "do not forget you wear my steel." "We will not forget," they said. And he felt their kiss. More than an hour ago I had left the commander's wagon, being roused by one of the guards outside. As I had left Elizabeth Cardwell had awakened. We had said nothing, but I had gathered her into my arms and kissed her, then left the wagon. Then she lowered her veil briefly and kissed me. "Goodbye, Tarl Cabot," she said. "I wish you well." "And I," I said, "wish you well - noble Dina of Turia." She laughed. "Foolish warrior," she chided, "I am only the daughter of a baker." "He was a noble and valiant man," I said. "Thank you," said she. "And his daughter, too," I said, "is a noble and valiant woman and beautiful." I did not permit her to replace her veil until I had kissed her, softly, one last time. "I love you," she said suddenly, "I love you Tarl Cabot, Master." She put her arms about my neck and kissed me. He gathered her in his arms, and she kissed him. "I have missed you," said she, "Tarl Cabot." "And I have missed you, too," I said. I kissed her. We fell to kissing and touching and loving, and after some she whispered, eyes bright, "Ah Kuurus, you well know how to use a wench." "I will see you in Ar," she had said to me, kissing me. Then she had lain down on a flat piece of rain canvas which Al-Ka and I had rolled about her, and, concealed in this fashion, we had carried her to the wagon. I kissed her. "Very well," she said, "you may kiss me." I did so, grumbling as she laughed. An Ahn later, however, I had my vengeance. "Will you eat out of my hand?" I inquired. "Yes, yes!" she cried. "Even when we are alone?" I inquired. "Oh yes, yes, yes!" she cried. "Do you beg to do so?" I asked. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes!" "Beg," I told her. "Vella begs to eat from master's hand!" she cried. "Vella begs to eat from master's hand!" I laughed. "You big beast!" she laughed. We kissed one another much. "You have always been able to make me eat out of your hand, Tarl Cabot," said she, "you big beast." I kissed her again. "But my knots," she said, "are still neater." "That is true," I admitted. She laughed. "There is nothing like coffee and a good wench after breakfast," I told her. "I told you," she said, "after breakfast I am extraordinary." "You were right," I said. "You were right." After we had kissed I rolled over and fell asleep, and Elizabeth busied herself about the compartment, afterward leaving to go to the office of Caprus, perhaps about the twelfth hour. The first time I had seen Nela, several days ago, she had been playing in the pool alone, rolling about. It took but one glance and I dove into the water, swam to her, seized her by the ankle and dragged her under, kissing her, rolling about beneath the surface. I liked the lips and feel of her and when we broke surface, she and I laughing, I asked her how much she went for. After we had kissed we swam together, and then again kissed and swam. I kissed her, and looked again to the ceiling. I rolled over, took Nela by the wrists, drew her to me and kissed her. "You beast," she smiled, kissing me. Then she knelt down on the mat, and I sat across from her cross-legged. I took her gently in my arms and kissed her, and she put her head against my left shoulder. Then the slave girls about the table began to go wild, throwing things and where possible pouring liquids on the heads of the guards and members of the staff, who, leaping up, seized them when they could catch them, kissing them, holding them, making them cry out with delight. I kissed her. "You are utterly, utterly mad," I told her, kissing her again. "I wonder what I'll bring," she mused. "Probably two copper tarn disks," I said. "I hope I will be purchased by a handsome master," she said. I kissed her irritably to silence. We heard the voice of Ho-Tu booming in the hall. "It is past the eighteenth bar," he called. "Slaves to cells!" There were cries of disappointment from both men and women in the hall. I kept kissing Elizabeth. "Slaves to cells," she mumbled. When I released her she lifted her head to me, standing on her toes, and kissed me on the nose. "Perhaps," she said, "I will see you even tomorrow night." I doubted it, but it was possible. I assumed the agent of Priest-Kings, who would purchase the girls, might be eager to take them to the Sardar, or perhaps to Ko-ro-ba. Yet again he might wait, and perhaps I could learn of her whereabouts in the city before she took flight, and see her once more. After the work of Caprus and myself was finished I would be able to join her, probably in Ko-ro-ba for a time, before we arranged to return her to Earth; I assumed, naturally, she would wish to return to her native planet. Gor is harsh and cruel. And surely no woman bred to the civilities and courtesies of Earth would care to remain on a world so barbaric, a world perhaps beautiful but yet threatening and perilous, a world in which a woman is seldom permitted to be other than a woman, a world in which even the exalted Free Companion sleeps upon a couch with a slave ring set at its foot. She kissed me one last time and turned about and ran off. She would spend the night in the Waiting Cells, and, at dawn, with hundreds of others, be sent as slave cargo to the pens of the Curulean. "You poor fool," said Sura sobbing, to Ho-Tu, kissing him. "You would kill for a simple slave?" "I love you," cried Ho-Tu. "I love you!" "I, too," said she, "love you, Ho-Tu." "No, Ho-Tu," laughed Sura. She kissed him. "It is too difficult for me," she said. I found I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss the slave rouge from her mouth. I suppose my responses were not much different from those of other men in the crowd. another woman, with her own hands, tore away her veil and seized in her hands the head of a man near her, pressing her lips to his, and in a moment, she lay, robes torn, in his arms, weeping, crying with pleasure. She then lifted the helmet from my head and kissed me. In the room of the Ubar's court, I briefly saw Nela, who had been of the baths, and several of the other girls. I kissed her, she joyful in her freedom. Gently he lowered his head and kissed her. She cried out, pressing her head to his shoulder. I took Elizabeth Cardwell into my arms. I felt that never would I let her go. We wept, our tears meeting in her hair and on our cheeks as we kissed and touched. The tiny, fine golden ring of the Tuchuk woman was in her nose. I took the child in my arms and walked down to the shore of the rence island. I looked westward, the direction that had been taken by the heavily laden barges of the slavers of Port Kar. I kissed the child. "Did you know him?" asked Telima. I threw the body into the marsh. Across the table I saw Ula, eyes timid, lift her lips to Clitus. He did not refuse her, and they began to kiss, and touch. Thurnock then seized Thura, pressing his lips upon hers. Helpless in his great arms she struggled, but then, as I laughed, she cried out as though in misery and began to yield to him, and then, moments later, her lips eagerly were seeking his. I placed the collar on her throat, and kissed her. Fish lifted Vina in his arms and left the table. At the entryway to that passage leading to the kitchens he stopped, and then, as she laughed and kissed him, he swept her, once the Lady Vivina, who was to have been the Ubara of Cos, now only a young, collared slave girl, in a brief, miserable garment, through the portal and disappeared down the passageway. I had seen a master and his girl kissing in a doorway in Laura. I kissed her, and then regagged and rehooded her. Many of the girls ran to individual warriors, their eyes shining, leaping up and seizing the stirrups, pulling themselves up and putting their cheeks against their soft leather boots. And more than one was hauled to the saddle and well held and kissed before being thrown again to the ground. I kissed him, and kissed him, weeping. His hands were suddenly hard on my arms, and he forced me back. He grinned. "You danced your insolence," he said. "You danced your pride, your defiance, your contempt and scorn." He looked down at me. I looked up at him. "I am not now insolent," I said, "Master." I smiled, tears in my eyes. "I am not now proud. I am not now defiant. I am not now contemptuous, nor scornful." I reached up, and he permitted me to kiss him, gently. I lay back. "I have been humbled, well humbled, Master," I smiled. But, too, sometimes Rask of Treve, after touching me, would hold me, and kiss me, for long hours. I did not truly understand him in these hours, but in his arms lay content and fulfilled. And then one night, when the fires were low, for no reason I clearly understood, I begged that I might be permitted to know him. "Speak to me of yourself," he said. I told him of my childhood, my girlhood, and my parents, and the pet my mother had poisoned, and of New York, and my world, and my capture, and my life before it had begun, before he had seen me naked in the cell of the Ko-ro-ban pens. And, too, in various nights, he had spoken to me of himself, and of the death of his parents, and of his training as a boy in Treve, and his learning of the ways of tarns and of the steel of weapons. He had cared for flowers, but had not dared to reveal this. It seemed so strange, he, such a man, caring for flowers. I kissed him. She sped down the gangplank to kneel swiftly before him. I followed her. He lifted her to her feet and kissed her, and then made her turn her back to him. He opened a small package. It contained a very cheap, but very lovely, necklace of tiny shells, threaded on a string of leather. He held it before her eyes. "It is beautiful," she cried. As she stood before him, her back to him, delighted, he wrapped it in and about the steel of her slave collar. "Thank you, Master," she breathed. "It is beautiful." He tied it at the back of her neck. Then he turned her about, and kissed her. She melted to him, her lips to his. "You kissed me this afternoon," she told him. "Please do so again." "Very well," he agreed. "But guard your pouch," said she. "I shall," said he. He put his hands at her waist, and bent, carefully, to kiss her. She stood on her tiptoes, and lifted her lips eagerly to his. When they parted, he reached for his pouch. He grinned. "You did not obtain my pouch!" he laughed. "Here is your wristlet," said Tina, handing him the amethyst-studded wristlet. "And your kiss," I said, "when I tasted your lips, at the bar in Lydius, I did not find you without interest." The girls cast aside the spears. Then, like feeding she-panthers they knelt about me, each one, with her hands and tongue, touching and kissing me. A woman who has once been slave, incidentally, often wishes to kiss and touch again in the shadow of the slave ring. I looked upon Ilene. She was beautiful. I removed her gag, and kissed her. She looked at me, startled. I had no time to use her. I thrust the wadding again in her mouth, and fastened it tightly in place with the slave silk. "Speak to her," I said. "I will," said Ilene. "I will!" She kissed me. "I will tell her that she is to be sold in Port Kar." I saw them fall to kissing and touching. No longer did the little thief reach for his purse or his wristlet. Her garment beneath her in the wet sand, she reached now for his lips, his head and body, touching him and crying out. I saw several of the bond-maids in the arms of Ivar's men. Among them, too, some trying to resist, were the new girls. One, who had irritated an oarsman, her hands held, was beaten, crying out, with his belt. Released, she began to kiss him, weeping, trying to please him. I looked to the Forkbeard. He had one arm about the full, naked waist of the daughter of the administrator of Kassau, Pudding, and the other about the waist of marvelously breasted, collared Gunnhild. "Taste your Pudding, my Jarl," begged Pudding. He kissed her. "Gunnhild! Gunnhild!" protested Gunnhild. Her hand was inside his furred shirt. He turned and thrust his mouth upon hers. Ivar Forkbeard crushed to his leather Pudding and Gunnhild, kissing first one and then the other, as each eagerly sought his lips, their hands, too, those of bond-maids, eager, upon his body. She lifted her body to me, begging for my touch. I fondled the extent of her, kissing and licking. She lifted her head to him. "May I not have one last kiss, my Jarl?" she whispered. "Permit me to kiss you, Master," begged Leah. Leah looked up at me. I kissed her again, full on her rouged slave mouth. She kissed well, trembling. And earlier, too, she had danced well. And then, too, later, at first given no choice, then, excited, helplessly aroused, unrestrainable, abandoned, uncontrollable, had performed superbly, serving me well, in the furs. I looked down upon her. Eyes moist, she lifted her lips, eagerly, to mine. I kissed her again. I was pleased that the Forkbeard had given her to me. "No!" laughed the Forkbeard. "This pretty little trinket this pretty little bauble, I keep for myself!" He then took Hilda in his arms and, holding her across his body, kissed her. She melted to him, in the fantastic, total yielding of the slave girl. His hand was on her body, and she, writhing, weeping, with her heels, pushing herself, back scraping on the bark, climbed almost a foot up the slanting trunk, before he, through her veil, kissed her, leaving a stain of blood on the silk, and, with his hands, knotted her hair about the trunk of the tree, then leaving her. "I love you, Master," she whispered. "I love you!" I kissed her, thrust back the wadding, and regagged her. I pulled with my head away from the eager lips and hands of the slave girl who sought to hold and kiss me. "Tafa loves you," she whispered, kissing me. A guard's hand held my hair, keeping my head in place. I felt the ropes burn on my neck. I closed my eyes. I felt her lips beneath my left ear, biting and kissing. Tafa screamed and threw herself to the feet of one of the jailers, holding his legs, kissing at him. At a word from him, then, she leapt to her feet and he took her in his arms, as though he might own her, and she kissed him, too, as though she might be owned. Never had I seen human beings kiss like that. It seemed a deeply sensuous complementarity that shook me to the core. It was the kiss of lovers, but more than the kiss of lovers. It was the kiss of a lover who is owned and of one who owns his lover. Then he laughed, and thrust her to one side. Then all turned to regard me. How I wished that he had held me and kissed me as he did her. How jealous I was. And the girl, taking his arm, smiling, kissing at him, pulled him away from me. I imagined myself then superbly yielding and kissing and melting in the arms of a master from almost his first touch, the lengthy, delicious pleasure that I could give him, his slave, a pleasure, too, which would make me want to scream with the joy of my womanhood. I wanted to crawl to them to tell them that I now understood, and that I was theirs. I wanted to cry out to them, to weep, to kneel to them, to kiss and lick submissively at their bodies in my joy. Suddenly her arms were about him and he was kissing her, she a slave in his arms in the half darkness. "I followed her," said the Lady Sabina, "and found her here, shameless in the arms of a soldier, touching, kissing!" "It is not you who is weak, Master," I said. "It is I, Dina, in your arms, who am without strength." I kissed him. "Dina wants Master's collar," I whispered, kissing at him. The collar would make me the equal of Eta. I saw Sucha lying soft in the arms of a lieutenant, kissing him. How marvelously she melted in his arms, his. "Poor Master," I said to the kneeling, chained prisoner. I knelt beside him and took his head in my hands and pressed my lips to his, kissing him. "Poor Master," I said. I, and the other girls, then began to kiss and caress him, to bring him wines and feed him delicacies. Much did we move about him, and serve him. I lay in the arms of the Turian soldier, on the cushions on the tiles of the hall of Turian pleasures. I kissed him. He was the fourth one to whom I had been thrown. "How marvelous you are, Master," I whispered to him. I cuddled up to him, delicately lifting my head. I wanted him to give me a cube of meat, honeyed, from the metal plate which lay near him. I, and the other girls, might not take such food for ourselves. Our hands could be cut off. We are not fed hours before the feast, and, in serving the feast, are not permitted in the least to partake of it. The feast was not ours to eat, but to serve. We were slave girls. We might, however, be fed by the men. If we would eat, we must earn our food. "Please, Master," I wheedled, "feed Dina." He put a cube of meat, boiled in wine, honeyed, in my mouth, thrusting it between my teeth and cheek with his finger. "Thank you, Master," I whispered, kissing him, the meat in my mouth. Often had we spoken to him soothingly as though in deference and pity, as though he might not be kneeling chained in the fortress of enemies; sometimes, too, we had spoken to him in husky whispers, as though he had much aroused our feminine slave bloods; much had we pressed upon him our kisses, our caresses and attentions; well had we teased him, and taunted and humiliated him in his helplessness; slave girls are excellent in such work, and I thought that I had been the best. The soldier in whose arms I lay pulled me down and more closely to him. Eagerly I kissed him. I heard the musicians playing the music of Gor. Another soldier seized me by the ankle. "Wait," said the first, his word muffled against the side of my throat, where his mouth and teeth, below my ear, half kissed, half held me. "Address yourself to my pleasure," he said. "Yes, Master," I said, crawling forward, head down, my hair upon his body, to kiss him. "I love you, Master!" I wept, clutching him. Gone now was the thought of the Lady Elicia. I, a slave girl, was in the arms of a Gorean male. I covered him with kisses and caresses, weeping. "Please touch your slave more, Master," I begged. I also wore a brief, open, sleeveless vest of black leather, the Kalmak; a patron parted it, holding it open, as I tried to move past him on the ramp; I stood, quietly, stopped helplessly, the tray held over my head; he kissed me twice; "Little beauty," he said; "A girl would rejoice if she were permitted to please you in an alcove," I said; It was the fellow who had earlier opened the Kalmak and kissed me. I was not displeased to see him, nor to be on his thong. I should have served him in the tavern, and then kissed him farewell, surrendering him to his glory and freedom, I remaining behind, forgotten, a girl whom once he had owned and discarded. I could then have known him free. "If I were you," said he, "I would be terrified." I kissed him. Then he was finished with me and I was shaking. He covered me with kisses. I felt I had the strength only to lie vulnerably before him, perhaps holding and kissing him, awaiting him. I watched the shadows on the ceiling. I sensed her lips softly kissing me. Then I cried out with the pleasure of owning her, and claimed her. She clutched me, kissing me. The man appeared to be a young bargeman. Her lips were delicate and beautiful. They would kiss him well. The girl in denim shorts, whom I would have originally thought would have been the least frightened of her native sexuality, looked at the others. "What if they make us kiss them?" she asked. "What will we do?" "Kiss them," said the girl in the torn red pull-over. The blond girl beside me kissed me. "What does she know of being a woman?" she asked. "You forced me to crawl to a man and serve him," she said. "How strong you are," she said, wonderingly. She kissed me, "I did not know what it was like to be a slave," she said. "You still do not know," I told her. "Kiss me, Slave," I said. "Yes, Master," she said, and kissed me, softly. "You would be dressed, if at all, as your master pleased," I said, "and you would have to do what ever you were told." "Oh, I know that, Master," she said, laughing, kissing me. Then she lay with her head on my shoulder. She kissed me. She looked up at me, and kissed me. "You are a slave," I said. "Do you think you would like to be a woman's slave?" "No," she said, shuddering. She kissed me. "I am a man's slave," she said. "It is true," I said. "Are panther girls truly so strong?" she asked. "Not really," I said. "Once captured and conquered, collared and silked, their thigh burned by the iron, thrown to a man's feet, they are as quick to kiss and lick as any woman. Indeed, they make superb slaves. They bring high prices in the markets. They are only girls desperate to fight their femininity. When they are no longer permitted to do this they have no choice but to become marvelous women and slaves. A conquered panther girl is one of the most abject and delicious, and joyful, of slaves." She kissed me, frightened. "What a fearful thing it is to be a slave girl, and what a wonderful thing," she said. "Yes," she said, kissing me, "that is right for me." Imnak lifted his head quickly, and then, understanding the nature of the noise, shook his head and reached over and seized Poalu. She was drawn to him, tightly, and began to kiss him. "Do not weep," I said. "It is only that you are a slave." I kissed her. "Please kiss me, Master," she said. I kissed her. "Yes, Master," she said. She kissed me. "What can there be," I asked, "other than chains and the whip, the kiss and the collar?" I kissed the lovely slave beside me, but she did not know I kissed her, for she was asleep. I went to the fourth girl on the coffle, Belinda, whom I had obtained in the complex, whom I had first enjoyed in the steel corridors of the complex, while her throat was still chained to the overhead slave track. I took her in my arms, gently, and kissed her, as I had the last girl on the line. I went to Constance, who was the fourth girl on the coffle. I kissed her. Then her back touched the stone wall, startling her, and they seized her, and threw her to a blanket for their pleasure. I saw her gasping, and, half fighting, half kissing at them, squirming in their arms. I kissed her. She kissed me. I love being a woman," said the girl. "I love being a woman." She kissed me. "You are a slave," I told her. She kissed me again. "They are the same," she whispered. She lifted her lips to mine, and kissed me softly. "Yes, Master," she said. I held her, and kissed her. Again I had not even elected to enter her. I remembered her sobbing in my arms, kissing and licking, and begging for my least touch. She lifted her lips, suddenly, to me, and kissed me, and then she put her head back, and turned it from side to side, lost in her pleasure and in the darkness of the blindfold. Suddenly she clutched my arms. "Master!" she said. She began to move, and try to kiss me. "Lift your body against his," said Sasi, "squirm, kiss!" The blond moaned with misery. "That is like a slave," she whispered. "Obey!" said Sasi. "Is she first girl?" asked the blond. "Yes," I said. I had then kissed her and left. "Kiss me," I said. She did so. And then she lay with her head on my left shoulder. I took Alice in my arms, kissing her, and she put her head back, with her eyes closed. "Whore! Whore!" cried the blond-haired barbarian. "What do you think slave girls are for," laughed Alice, her eyes still closed, delightedly, "you silly girl?" "Whore! Whore!" cried the blond-haired barbarian. I kissed Alice. "Gather some wood for the fire. Build it up a little," I said to the blond-haired barbarian. I kissed her. "Oh," she laughed. Then she said, "It is well that I spoke the truth." She kissed me. "Do you customarily subject your girls to such an examination?" she asked. I kissed her. She pressed herself against me, kissing, half sobbing. "Treat me as the amorous, worthless slave I am," she said. I held her head in my hands. I kissed her about the throat. "Perhaps," I said. "I would not know." I kissed her, gently. "Sleep now," I said. "It is nearly light." "No," she said, "not really. I am aware that some men have found me sexually attractive. Some have even tried to take me in their arms and kiss me." She scratched at the window. "I'm pretty!" she said. "I will even let you kiss me, if you want. Let me go! Let me go!" "Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women. I do not want them falling to their knees by you, to seize you, to fawn upon you, to hold you, to lick and kiss you." "Lola," said the Lady Gina, "begin at the far end of the line of male slaves. Tell each that you are his slave. Kiss them. Tell them that you love them. Address them as Master. Then, kiss them again." "Yes, Mistress," said Lola, miserably. She ran lightly to the end of the line. The Lady Gins followed her to the end of the line. She removed the whip from its hook on her belt. This action did not pass unnoticed by Lola. "Be sensuous, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "I think you can manage that," she added, acidly. "Yes, Mistress," said Lola, casting a frightened glance at the Lady Gina, and, too, at the female slavers. Lola then took the first male slave in her arms. She looked up at him. "I am your slave, Master," she said. She then kissed him. "I love you, Master," she said. Then she kissed him again. I felt her lips on mine, and, she kissed me, with the liquid, melting, indescribable kiss of the slave girl, the owned woman. "I love you, Master," she whispered. She had used me many times, of course, but she had never permitted me to hold her in my arms. I had, of course, under her direction, kissed, licked and caressed her. She used me several times that night. It was only later that I realized that she, in spite of the fullness of her use of me, had never once kissed me. She did not wish to soil her lips by touching them to my body, that of a slave. Telitsia looked up at me. Her hands were bound behind her back. There were tears in her eyes. She lifted her lips to mine. I kissed her. The carryings on of slaves were of little interest to them. But sometimes the Lady Leta or the Lady Perimene would pause to observe the helpless passion of the slave girl and laugh at her, or insult her for her weakness. But she only kissed and clutched at me all the more. Taphris lay weeping in my arms, trying to kiss me in the darkness. "Kiss me, nameless slut," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. Then she lay back. I felt her finger at my shoulder. "Be silent, slave," I told her. "Yes, Master," she whispered, kissing and moaning. I kissed her. "Kiss and squirm well, Slut," I said. "Yes, I am a slut," she wept. "I am a slut!" "Kiss and squirm," I said. "Yes," she wept. "Yes, yes!" "Yes," I said, "a slut, if free, is at least a thousand times higher than a slave." "Yes," she said, and kissed me. "I am furious," she said, "that you have leashed me." She kissed me. "Why?" I asked. "I am free," she said, "and it is so degrading. It is like I am a slave girl." I continued to hold her, and kiss her, and then, as she was so beautiful, I entered her and, in fierce silence, exulted within her. "Now lick and kiss me," I told her. "It is dawn, and we must soon be on our way." "Yes, Master," she said. "Alison will strive to please Master well," she whispered. She then kissed me, softly. Then, softly, she whispered in my ear, "The women of Earth are natural slaves." She kissed me. "You handle a woman well, Jason," she said. "You put me through my paces well." "Yes," she purred, again lifting her arms and putting them about my neck. "Yes," she whispered. "Darlene begs it." Then we kissed. "I am not a licking and kissing pleasure girl, one who can scarcely control herself and fears the whip." "Do not touch me!" she said. I drew back. "Permit me to kiss you," I said. She was so beautiful. "No," she said. "I am not a pleasure object." "I'm sorry," I said. Again I had insulted Miss Henderson. It seemed I could do nothing right with her. "But I am grateful," she said. "You may give me a small kiss, a quick kiss." I touched her cheek with my lips, kissing her. "Permit me to kiss you," she said. "You may do so," I told her. "And men," she said, "or Gorean men, or men of a Gorean type, are the masters." "Yes," I said. "And women such as I are their slaves," she said. "Yes," I said. "Lick and kiss me." "Lick and kiss you?" she said. "Yes," I said. "You command me like a Gorean slave girl," she said. "That is what you are," I told her. "Yes, Master," she said. "Ah," she said, "then ventilate your emotions upon me, for I am only a slave." She kissed me. "I must submit to whatever men choose to do to me. Do you wish to whip me?" "Forget her, Master," whispered Peggy. She lifted her head from the furs, and kissed me. Peggy kissed me. When she understood that I was content to hold her, she lay warmly in my arms, sometimes kissing me. "Oh, Master," reproved the red-haired girl, kissing me as the slave she was. She began to kiss and lick at me, and caress me. "I am pleasing him," said the red-haired girl on my right. These dreams would usually be of slave girls, soft and warm, luscious, licking and kissing in our arms. She was moaning softly, and kissing at me. Perhaps he, in Gorean hospitality, will share her with them, but, in the end, when they have gone, it is at the foot of his own couch that she, licking and kissing, and begging, will be chained. Gone then are the thousand frustrations and conflicts; released then, in a flood of tears and joy, is her fundamental womanhood; the hypocrisies are then at an end; the long shams are done; she melts into his arms, kissing and sobbing, his. She kissed me. When I had finished feeding her I gently dabbed her mouth with her hair, being careful not to disarrange the slave's lipstick with which her sweet, full lips had been adorned. It was crimson. It was, by design, kissably sensuous, designed to arouse men and provoke the lust of masters; some girls are terrified to wear such lipstick; they know how it enhances their loveliness and proclaims them well as slaves; they understand well its intention and are seldom left long in doubt as to its effectiveness; had they originally entertained doubts as to its efficiency these doubts are often dispelled rapidly, as they squirm, naked and collared, perfumed, in the arms of a strong man, as it is being ruthlessly kissed from their lips. "Master kissed me earlier," she gasped, happily. "And Master did not strike me as hard as he might have!" She drew in a deep breath, and put her head back, delightedly. "I think that Master might care a little for his slave!" she laughed. "I will let you kiss me," she said. "I will even let you make love to me!" "I love you, Master!" she cried. She pressed her body to him and he, clasping her to him, with force and possessiveness, kissed her as his desired and owned slave. I kissed her. She then put her arms about my neck and, standing on her toes, lifting her lips to mine, kissed me. I then, by the arms, held her from me. "You kiss well, Slave," I told her. "Thank you, Master," she said. "Is it true that you are a barbarian?" I asked. "Yes, Master," she said. "I was sold, even, from the house of Ram Seibar." "When?" I asked. "Eighteen months ago," she said. "You are now no stranger to your collar," I said. The kiss of a slave girl is unmistakable. "No, Master," she said. At as little as a snapping of my fingers, she must strip herself and hurry naked, licking and kissing, to my arms. "Kiss me," I told her, "fifty times, and well." "Yes, Master," she said, and began to kiss me about the face and neck. I counted the kisses. There were fifty of them. Then she lay down beside me. "Yes, Master," she said, "that I must learn, in general, how to be pleasing to men." "Yes," I said, "this any slave girl must learn, such things as the kisses, the touches, the squirmings, the thousand submissions." She laughed, and kissed me happily. I returned to the interior of the lodge and lifted her up, to her knees. Our lips met. She kissed me avidly, twice. I pressed her back. I kissed the girl then, and left her behind me. She would get dressed, donning the brief, simple shirtdress of hide she had been given, and report back, head down and kneeling, to Grunt, her master. "Punish me again," she wheedled, putting a finger on my shoulder, and then kissing me, "- please." "Kiss me, Slave," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. "You may now kiss me again, Slave," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. "Yes, Master," she smiled, kissing me. I put the stalk of grass to the side. "Kiss," I said. She reared up on her elbows, struggling, reaching forward, and put her mouth to mine. Then she lay back, looking at me. "You are now in your place in nature," I said. "Yea, my Master," she said. She kissed me. She put her arms about my neck, and kissed me. "Suppose you were a conqueror and found me in a burning city," she whispered. "You would not be likely to slay me, would you?" No," I said. I kissed her. She melted into my arms, embracing and kissing me, as a slave into the arms of her master. "I am naked," she said. "Kiss me, I beg you." "I love you," she said. "Kiss me. Then put me out, if you wish. I will then go gladly, if it be your will." He kissed her. We stood up. "You may kiss the feet of our guests, Tuka," said Seibar. "Yes, Master," she said. "Do not be weak with her," I said. "I will not," he said. I smiled. I saw that it was true. "Tuka," said Seibar, "fetch what was once your blanket and put it with mine, on the shelf, by the wall, where I sleep." "Yes, Master!" she said. I smiled. I saw that Tuka, at least, would not be tied by the neck, out in the yard for the night. Seibar and I again clasped hands, sealing our bargain. "I have done as you wished," said Tuka, returning, dropping to her knees before her master. "I am weary," said Seibar. "I think I will tie your ankles together." "Please do not tie them together, Master," she said. "Very well," he said. He then indicated that she should rise and she did so. He then lifted her in his arms. She kissed at him eagerly. One of the problems which often arises in this business is that of getting the capture from, say, her own bedroom to your pens where she may be properly branded and collared, and taught to kiss and obey, later to be retailed naked from a suitable outlet, into her new life as a slave. "Is it my understanding," I asked, "that you wish to serve at the post, as a slave might, licking and kissing?" "Yes!" she said. She then closed her eyes and pursed her lips. "You wish to lick and kiss your captor, as a slave might?" I asked. "Yes!" she said. "Do you beg it?" I asked. "Yes," she said. "Yes!" "Very well," I said. "Hci!" I called. Hci, interestingly, was not very far away and, in a moment or two, he was approaching Iwoso's post. I winked at Hci. "This woman," I said, "has begged to lick and kiss her captor, as a slave, at the post." "Yes!" she said. She then closed her eyes and pursed her lips. "I shall call Hci," I said. "Hci!" she cried, opening her eyes and regarding me wildly. "Yes," I said. "He is your captor." "Never!" she cried. "Oh," I said, and turned again to the prairie. "Yes!" she cried. "Call Hci!" "You wish to lick and kiss your captor, as a slave might?" I asked. "Yes!" she said. "Do you beg it?" I asked. "Yes," she said. "Yes!" "Very well," I said. "Hci!" I called. Hci, interestingly, was not very far away and, in a moment or two, he was approaching Iwoso's post. I winked at Hci. "This woman," I said, "has begged to lick and kiss her captor, as a slave, at the post." "Well?" asked Hci. He stood quite close to Iwoso. She turned her head to the side, that her lips might not brush his. She began to tremble. I think that, as a mature female, she had perhaps never been that close to a male, and certainly not in this fashion. Hci was stripped to the breechclout and Iwoso shrank even further back as the handle of his knife, thrust in its sheath, touched her above the belly on the right. "Well?" said Hci. Timidly Iwoso turned her head to him and their lips, gently, touched. She then kissed him twice, timidly, on the check. He did not move. Iwoso, then, frightened, but more boldly, began to kiss him softly about the mouth and face. These kisses, now, clearly, I saw, went beyond the feigned obedience ingredient in her stratagem; some of these kisses were like questions, after which she would wait to see how he might react; others were like tiny explorations or experiments, testings or tastings, to satisfy her female curiosity; others were like small, tender placatory submissions; others were like gentle, moist offerings, hoping that he might be pleased. Iwoso, I saw, doubtless contrary to her original intentions, was actually kissing Hci. "Lick, as well as kiss," said Hci. Iwoso, softly, then, complied. I was reminded of the girls at the training stakes in the pens of slavers, in the cities. One of the first things a girl is taught to do is to lick and kiss under duress. One of the next things she is taught to do, in her training chains in a furred alcove, is to make love instantly, at so little as the snapping of fingers, or the barking of a command. "Here," said Hci, pointing to the hideous scarring at the left side of his mouth. Iwoso regarded him. "A Yellow Knife did that," said Hci. "I killed him." Softly, then, Iwoso began to lick and kiss at the rugged, whitish tissue at the side of Hci's face. Then Hci drew back his head. He looked deeply into Iwoso's eyes. He was disturbed, I think, at what he saw there. They were wide, and deep, and tender and moist. "You pretend well," said Hci, sneering. Tears sprang into Iwoso's eyes. "Slave lips," said Hci, angrily. Iwoso looked at him, puzzled. "Purse your lips, as a white female slave," said Hci. Iwoso did so. "Now kiss," said Hci, angrily. Iwoso did so, fully upon the lips, as a slave girl. "Kiss him," ordered Hci, "fully upon the lips, as a slave, and declare your love for him." Iwoso kissed Cuwignaka. "I love you," she said. "Now kiss him!" said Hci, indicating me, "similarly, and declare your love for him." "I am a free woman!" she cried. "He is a slave!" "Do so!" said Hci. Iwoso pressed her lips to mine. "I love you," she said. "More fervently," said Hci, angrily, "with more meaning!" "No!" said Iwoso. Hci's knife whipped from its sheath. I feared he was going to disembowel her at the post. There was a spot of blood on her lower abdomen. Indeed, I think he might have done so had her compliance not been instantaneous and perfect. "I obey!" she cried. She pressed her lips deeply, desperately, frightened, to mine. "I love you!" she said, frightened. "I love you!" The naked, large-bosomed, red-haired slave licked and kissed at me and then, when I wished, unable to help herself, cried out her yielding to me. Certain areas of the house, however, I was not shown, presumably because I was a free woman, such as the lowest pens, the branding chamber, the discipline room, and the rooms where girls were taught to kiss and caress, and the movements of love. I kissed him, helplessly. Almost as soon as I had begun to dance I saw Emily tear back her slave silk, exposing her breasts to Aemilianus, and to kiss him. He held her against him with his left arm about her body and held her two hands, their wrists crossed, in his grip, captured, across his body. He held her in this fashion, helpless. And both, then, were watching me. I sensed that our training was coming to an end. We were returning to various basics, almost as elementary as scales to the musician, such things as basic kisses, caresses, position, attitudes and movements. He then took me by the upper arms and, holding me, looked into my eyes. I restrained an impulse to try to press myself against him and kiss him. He spun me about, to face him. He stood but inches from me. I was naked. My hands were braceleted behind my back. "Kiss me," he said. Obediently I stood on my toes and kissed him. "Do you call that a kiss?" he asked. "Permit me to try again; Master," I said. I then kissed him again, but this time as a slave. "Yes, Master," I said, and kissed him. For a time we lay quietly side by side, not speaking. Each of us, I think, had our thoughts. "Master," I whispered. "Yes," he said. "May I speak again?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "Sheila and I have our collars," I said. "We must go where masters wish, heeding them and doing their bidding. But what of you? Tomorrow you will have your freedom. What will you do? Where will you go?" "Away," he said. "I do not really know." He kissed me, softly, and I kissed him back, gently. Then, for a brief moment, he took me in his arms. His hand was upon me, intimately. "I love you! I love you! I love you!" I cried, jerking in his hands, pressing against him, trying to cover him with kisses. "Tell me, please," I asked, "what is on my collar." "A speck of dust," he said. "There, I have removed it." "Please," I said. "It is simple," he said. "It says, 'I belong to Drusus Rencius, of Ar.'" I kissed him. A new girl, Susan, was now dancing. She who had been the Lady Rowena of Lydius was on her belly on a table, clutching its sides, her teeth gritted. Tula was being handed from man to man. Some of the other girls, too, were now being used by masters. And others were licking and kissing at them, and whispering in their ears, begging for attention. "I have not forgotten your kiss," she said. "Take me to a pleasure rack, I beg you!" I remembered her. She was the naked, collared slave who, a few moments ago, had seized me and kissed me. I had returned her kiss, in the fashion of a master. Chino then again begins to reassure the confused, uncertain courtesan. Soon he is demonstrating, even, with caresses and kisses, all in the name of the merchant, just how skillful the merchant would be. She looked up at me, flakes of the pastry and glazing about her mouth, and kissed me. "I want to love you," she said. I tasted the sugar on her lips. I kissed her, and withdrew from her; in a moment I stood beside the rack, adjusting my robes. "May I break position, Master?" she asked. "Yes," I said. She removed her hands and feet from the netting, slipped from the rack and came to kneel before me. She put down her head, and kissed my feet. The marks of the rope, where she had lain on the netting, were on her body. She then looked up at me. "I did not mean to be forward, before," she said. "Please, forgive me. Beat me, if you wish." I lifted her to her feet, and kissed her. "It is all right," I said. I then continued to lick and kiss at her, softly. She began to whimper and moan. I looked at her. Her eyes were wild, pleading. I put my hands on her belly. It was tense and hot, throbbing with blood and need. "Do not move," I told her. "No," she said, "no!" I then resumed my ministrations to her body. They were such as might be inflicted upon a woman who was no more than a slave. "Please!" she whimpered. "Please! Please!" "Very well," I said. "You may move." She cried out and seemed to explode under me, sobbing with joy and helplessness. Then she looked at me wildly, still held in the straps, disbelief in her eyes. Then I entered her and took her, not gently. "Oh," she cried. "Master! Master!" Then again she lay back on the straps, helpless. "I have business to attend to," I said. Indeed, I must soon make away from Port Kar. "Tarry but a moment," she begged. She was in a position to do no more than beg, secured as she was. I lay beside her and kissed her, and held her, for a moment. "I am a woman," she said, straightening her body, making clear the indications of considerable beauty concealed beneath her silk. "I could present myself to him. I could allure him. I could win his interest. I could win his confidence. I could make him desperately eager for so much as a touch or kiss. Then, when, in effect, I could twine him about my tiny finger, when I could do with him as I wished, I could drug or poison him." "She begged so piteously to be permitted to give me the kiss of a slave that I, in my weakness, at last yielded to her entreaties." "You may kiss them, as well," Boots informed her. Immediately the girl began to add fervent kisses to her ministrations. "Teach her quickly to lick and kiss," said another. "Teach her what being a woman is all about," said another. "There are many forms of dance," I said. "Music is not even necessary. It need not even be more than beautiful movement. Move before the men, and about them. Move as seductively and beautifully as you can, and as a slave, swaying, crawling, kneeling, rolling, supine, prone, begging, pleading, piteous, caressing, kissing, licking, rubbing against them." "It would be the same with you, Boabissia," I said, "if you were a slave. You, too, then, as much as Feiqa, would be at the mercy of free persons. You, too, then, would have to obey, and anyone, as much as she. You, too, as then a mere slave, would have to cringe, and perform, and kiss, even if it were only at the command of a child. You, too, then, as much as she, would have to obey, responding swiftly, hoping desperately to please, while being put through your paces." "Oh, Master, Master, Master," she said, kissing me. "Is that what men really want?" she asked. "A woman who is totally theirs, one who is fully in their power, one who must strive desperately to serve them perfectly in all things, one who is absolutely and helplessly at their mercy, one who must lick and kiss at their least word?" "I am afraid there are some men who do not object to that," I admitted. "Take me!" she cried, in English. "I beg you to take me!" I took her in my arms, and kissed her. She was helplessly hot and open. "Oh, yes," she cried. "Now! Now! I beg it! I beg it!" "As a woman of Earth?" I asked. "No," she sobbed, "as what I am now, as a Gorean slave of her master!" Later I used her once more, this time on her belly, that she might not forget she was a slave, nor grow too proud. I then turned her to her back. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "I am yours," she wept. "I want to live for you, and to serve you in all ways!" I kissed her. "Buy me!" she begged. "Buy me!" "I think you will one day, now that you have learned how to serve, find a fine, strong Gorean master," I said. "Then I, an Earth woman, will belong to a Gorean," she said. "Yes," I said, "as do many others. And I think you will make him a splendid slave·" "Yes," she whispered, softly, "a slave!" "You are a female of Earth," I said. "Such as you are fit only to wear the collars of such men." "I know," she said. "Aspire to nothing higher here," I said. "I do not," she said. "He would have you in no other way, of course," I said. "I know," she said. "Are you discontent?" I asked. "No," she said. "It is a thousand times better to be the slave of such a man than to be an Empress on Earth." I kissed her. "Here you do not have to fear even initially that men will not answer the cry of the slave in you," I said. "You will probably not even have time for that. You will be too busy kneeling, and obeying." "True," she laughed, and kissed me. Accordingly she knows that they, so sweet and soft, so delicious and marvelous, so wonderful and exciting, will, like the rest of her, without a second thought, be submitted to attentions appropriate to her status. For example, they may be lovingly handled, and kissed and caressed by the master however and as long as he pleases. "I owe you much," she said. "I am grateful. I would show my gratitude." "No thanks are necessary," I said. I wondered if she knew what she was doing. She lifted her lips. I felt her in my arms rising up on her toes. "There," she said, kissing me. "Beware of what you do," I said, "dressed as you are." Her body was luscious, rounded and slave soft. I forced myself not to seize it to me, and crush it in my arms. "There," she said, kissing me again, "can a slave kiss like that?" This second kiss, with its remark, was a mistake on her part, an irrevocable one. "You know nothing of kissing," I said. "If a slave could not do better than that, she would be whipped." "Must I throw myself at you?" she asked. "After that second kiss," I said, "that would not be necessary." "I am a virgin," she whispered. I kissed her. "You will be kind to me, won't you?" she said. "Not particularly," I said. "Do you remember the second time I kissed you," she asked, "the time when you told me that if a slave had not kissed better than that she would have been whipped?" "Yes," I said. That was the time she had tried to strike me, and I had not permitted it, but instead had punished her. I had shortly thereafter carried her to the slave mat. "Is that true?" she asked. "It depends on many things," I said, "such as the master, the familiarity of the girl with her collar, for example, has she yet learned how to kiss, and the mood, the situation, and so on." "But some slaves," she said, "might have been whipped for not kissing better than that?" she said. "Certainly," I said. "How do I kiss now?" she asked, kissing me. "Much better," I said. "As good as a slave?" she asked. "No," I said. "Oh?" she asked. "No," I said. "You will not kiss as well as a slave, until you have become a slave, and then, probably, only after you have learned your collar for a few months, and perhaps even have had some training. Also, there is a whole indefinable modality to the kisses of slaves, that has to do with bondage and that they are literally the properties of the master. It is an entirely different sort of kissing from that of a free woman." "I understand," she said. "Perhaps one day I will be a slave. And then I will kiss like a slave." "Perhaps," I said. I recollected, in particular, most recently, the former Lady Lydia, that particular slave, how she had looked, the straw about her body, and in her hair, the chain on her neck, her eyes, her cries, her pleading kisses and touches, her utter helplessness, and the joy of doing ownership on her. better she had been a silken girl breathless behind the wooden screens of the seraglio or a ragged slut on her knees desperately licking and kissing for coins in the sunlit, dusty streets below; But I saw him draw forth from his belt a half hood. This coved the head to the upper lip. It was put over my head and drawn back, tightly, and buckled shut. I then heard a lock snapped through rings. It was locked on me, in place. I could not see under the device, at all. In this respect it differed from imperfect blindfolds and resembled the full slave hood. Similarly, although it is usually regarded as inferior to the full slave hood in its security, it tends to be more secure than many blindfolds, particularly makeshift ones, seized up from materials at hand. For example, unlike many blindfolds, it, and in this respect it is similar to the full slave hood, is not likely to become dislodged or loose, even if the girl is handled with great roughness. It does, however, of course, possess certain of the rich and attractive advantages of the blindfold, such as allowing its fair captive to speak, to use her tongue, to lick, to kiss, and so on. He kissed me. "Kiss me," I whispered. We kissed, so together, the two of us, as to be almost one thing, and I almost swooned in his power. She then, gradually, permits herself to let her true feelings appear, thus attempting to give the impression of having been seduced by him, and then, later, after a suitable time, she is honestly piteous, kneeling beside him, licking and kissing. I was not simply going to be fondled or kissed, with attentions appropriate to the bland etiquettes of Earth. I was to be conquered! "Let it be the tiniest of kisses then," I said, softly, "once only, and only the merest touch, my lips and yours, that, so little, or all of me, and as you want me, whatever you wish." Surely the women of his caste, too, could be taught to dance, and to lick and kiss, and serve, and even superbly, such that they might drive a man wild with desire. "Put your arms about my neck," he said. "Kiss me." I obeyed. Then suddenly I kissed him again, this time as a slave. I kissed the master eagerly. He was a true master, and, in moments, licking and kissing, squirming, moaning, crying out with gratitude, I was helpless in his grasp. I kissed Tupita, gratefully, and Tela. He then, gently, drew me from the beast. He kissed me, and held me to him. "And where, too, now, is that librarian?" he asked. "She who was that librarian," I said, "is here, but she is now only a naked slave, and she begs to kiss her master." "She may do so," he informed me. "I am no longer an Earth female," I said, kissing him. I cried out with pleasure, and kissed him, happily, in relief. "Yes," he said. "You will. I will see to it." "Yes, Master," I said, happily, I kissed him, again, delightedly. "Let me kiss you!" called the fifth woman. The others gasped in astonishment, in anger, in protest, in indignation, in outrage, at her boldness. "Taste me," called the fifth woman, enticingly. "Slut! Slut!" cried the other women. It had been a slave's invitation. I wondered where the free woman had heard it. Not all free women are as ignorant as many men believe. There had been many indications that the fifth woman's slavery was very close to the surface. To be sure, she may have often fought it. I did not know. "The eager lips of a free woman await you," called the fifth woman. "Taste me!" said the lovely, slighter girl, who was fourth, who had seemed perhaps the quietest of the five. I thought she might go the gentlest, and the most willingly, and the most gratefully, to her chains. "Slut!" cried the third woman. I then kissed her. I saw that she would make a superb slave. "Do you not wish to be redeemed?" I asked her. "Yes!" she said suddenly. "Yes, of course!" But I saw she would never be truly happy, except where she belonged, in a collar. "Me!" said the third woman, suddenly. "Kiss me, too! Taste me, too!" I gathered that she, too, did not wish to be left out in these competitions. She did not wish to miss her opportunity to see if she might, by the bestowal of her favors, and the promise of such favors, as well, please me, and, by enticement or trickery, inveigle me into purchasing her redemption. I also saw, from her behavior and attitude, that she regarded herself as the most beautiful of the five, and the most likely to succeed in any such contest. Accordingly I gave her little time but merely took her in my arms and unilaterally, forcibly, briefly, crushed her lips beneath mine, and then flung her back against the logs. She looked at me wildly, disbelievingly. Was she not blond? But she would have to learn to please men. I then stood back, and regarded the three women. "You have not tasted me," said the second woman. I think she feared I was pondering a choice among the other three, I kissed her. I would have to admit it, women kiss well in shackles, even free women. She looked at me. Then, she, too, recovered herself. "Though I am of high caste," she said, "I have permitted you to kiss me, and not merely upon a sleeve or gloved hand, but wholly upon my lips, and not even through a veil, no, upon my exposed and naked lips themselves, unveiled, almost as though I might be a slave! Therefore, in return for this inestimable gift, it is I whom you must now in honor redeem." "You are a female," I said, "and such are made for the kisses of men." She could not pull far from the wall because of her shackling. If she were to be kissed, it would be at my discretion. "Lady Amina begs it," she said. She was a free woman. Yet I saw that she was well curved, and would nestle well within the arms of a master. "Please," she said. I went to her and took her in my arms. I drew her toward me, from the wall. The shackle chain moved in the ring. Because of the chaining she was bent back. I looked upon her. Though she was free she, like the others, was neither clothed nor veiled. Thus, though she was a free woman, her lips were open to me, naked to me, exposed, in the manner of the slave. She looked up at me, those lovely, vulnerable lips parted. She felt slave good in my arms. I kissed her. "How pleased I am that I am not one of those women who must crawl about the feet of men, licking and kissing, and groveling, and begging to be found pleasing!" "You received kisses from the women outside, those chained to the rings," she said, "Amina, Rimice, and the others, if I may believe you." "Yes," I said. "And I told you," she said, "that you would never receive one from me." "Yes," I said, "I recall that." "I relent," she said. "Oh?" I said. "Yes," she said. "You may kiss me." I did not kiss her. "May I kiss you?" she asked. "Yes," I said. Softly her lips met mine. It was a brief, delicate kiss, frightened. Then she drew back. "So take me in your cruel arms like iron," she said. "Force me to pant and sweat, and kiss. Hurry!" "Do not fear," I said. "I know you are truly a slave. I learned it in your kiss, when you were shackled at the wall at the Crooked Tarn. I think that perhaps, in the same kiss, you learned it." I pulled her up beside me, and kissed her. She snuggled into my arms, frightened. On the landing many were kneeling, or bellying. There was much licking and kissing. More than one had been put in a display position, and forced to hold it. I saw one girl cuffed, and another, one who had perhaps been slow to obey, lashed with a strap. Swiftly then, and eagerly, did she begin to lick and kiss her captor about the feet and ankles. "Good," he said. Slaves, of course, are not only trained in a broad spectrum of sexual arts, such as how to kiss and caress, and such, but much attention is given, too, to their own responsiveness and pleasure. I bent over her and then, with one hand, behind the back of her neck, gripping it, lifted her head, bringing her face beneath mine, forcing it there. I then kissed her, and let her lie back on the ropes. Her eyes were wide, and soft, and frightened. "You were a pretty warder," I said. "I am a slave," she whispered, "only a slave." "Perhaps you desire to be pleasing?" I asked. "Yes," she said, fervently. "I desire to be pleasing!" She then reached out for me and put her hands behind the back of my neck. She then lifted her lips timidly to mine, fearing, it seemed, that her overture might be refused, that they might be rejected. "I do desire to be pleasing, Master," she whispered. I permitted her to kiss me. I then kissed her, and left her. "Master!" she laughed, kissing me. She then, and the other, curled close to him, one on each side, excitedly watching the self-presentations of the slaves. Each, from time to time, kissed at the burly fellow, as though to remind him that they, too, were about, and women, and ready. Better to be a perfumed love slave, licking and kissing, than a girl sweating and stinking in the dusty fields, under a lash, pulling against plow straps. "What are various slave rituals?" I asked. "The kissing and licking of the master's feet, she said, "the bringing to him of his whip or sandals, in one's teeth, on all fours, kneeling, prostration before him, the performance of obeisances, such things." The hood tends to be more effective than the blindfold as a security device. For example, it is difficult to dislodge it, as it ties under the chin, by, say, rubbing it against a wall or tree. An advantage of the blindfold, of course, is that it enables the mouth of the female to be seen, and to be kissed, and such. It also allows her to use her own mouth, of course, in kissing, and such. She then kissed me, and, putting forth her small, pink tongue, licked me, delicately, softly, on the leg. I kissed her. I kissed her again. "Does she not put her head to the sand quickly enough for you?" I asked. "Does she not lick and kiss with sufficient alacrity?" "Only a slave could do better," said Plenius. Immediately Ina, humbly, desperately, with a zeal that would have befitted a threatened slave, began to move about, on her knees, and all fours, and on her belly, among the men, kissing and licking, and caressing. I watched her pressing her lips to their feet, her golden hair about their ankles. I watched her kneel beside them and lick their calves and thighs, piteously. I watched her holding them, and touching them, and caressing them, as though she feared she might be struck away, hoping to insert herself delicately into their attention, hoping to be found of interest, hoping to please them. "Kiss my feet," I said. "Yes, my captor," she said. I then kissed her and put the sack over her head, and, with its strings, tied it closed, about her neck. "Free it! Free it!" cried Marcus, covering her with kisses. I gathered he had never seen her in just this fashion or way before, her silk parted, writhing on her knees, kissing, lifting her hands, her head moving, her hair flung about. "I assure you," he said, "that the women of Ar, imbonded, grovel, and lick and kiss, as well as other women." "Your lips are pretty," I said. "They could probably be trained to kiss well." Tears sprang to her eyes. "Continue to serve him, in the fullness of your slavery, begging him for the least of his kisses, the most casual of his caresses." "Yes, Master," she said, tears in her eyes. "Only a female slave! Only a female slave!" he exclaimed. "That is exactly it! She is a female slave! They are all the same. They all have hot little bellies and can't help themselves. They are always licking and kissing and begging! And that Lavinia is one of the worst! She is a seductrix, I tell you. They are all seductresses!" I was frightened. Aynur had a vile temper, but I had never seen her this way before. She seemed beside herself with rage. I trusted that she had not seen me kissing the stranger. That would not do at all! He must not tell that I had been near the wall. He must not let her know that I had, of my own will, kissed him, perhaps once or twice. "Her lips are indeed of interest," he said to me. "To be sure, she was more kissed than kissing." "Yes, Master," I said. "Does she know how to use them?" he asked. "No, Master," I said. "But she is intelligent, you said?" "Yes, Master," "Then she can learn how to use them?" "Of course, Master." "He kissed me," she said. "Do not be upset," I said. "He thinks you are only a slave. He does not know you are a free woman." "I have never been kissed before like that," she said. "You have never been kissed in a collar before," I said. "It is not at all as one kisses a free woman," she said. "I dare say," I admitted. "I did not know a kiss could be like that," she said. "Oh!" she said, excitedly. "But did you not see," she then said, angrily, "how he forced me to hold my lips, pursed, simply by his will, and I must keep my eyes closed, and wait, and wait, and then how he took me in his arms and kissed me, and how he kissed me!" How I had leaped to his touch, how I had clung to him, how I had held him and kissed him, and licked him, and begged him, gratefully, sobbing, not to stop. "When I was near you," she said, "I was not free. When I was near you, I was a slave." They kissed. "The first moment I laid eyes on you," she said, "I wanted to be your slave." "And I," he said, "from the first moment I saw you, I wanted you in my collar." An Earth woman, incidentally, if rescued on Gor by a Gorean, might be surprised at the aftermath of her rescue. Half hysterical with relief, overwhelmed with gratitude, say, she was prepared to throw herself into his arms and grant him, even though he is a stranger, the inestimable favor of a kiss. Many Earth women seem to think their kisses are of great value, whereas most of them do not know how to kiss. The kisses of a slave on the other hand, so subtle, and humble, and well-placed, coupled with her entire demeanor, the meaning of her collar, and such, can drive a man mad with pleasure. But then that is understandable, she is a slave. To be sure, as the slave is further and further aroused by the master, in his turn, her kisses may become more and more piteously and helplessly orgasmic. But then to her surprise, and, one supposes, consternation, the Earth woman finds herself enfolded helplessly in mighty arms and kissed in turn and kissed as she had never dreamed she might be kissed, with such ferocity, and mastery and power, and ownership, and then as she reels, giddy and dazed, she is taken in hand and turned about, and thrown to the ground, on her stomach; her clothing, she almost failing to comprehend what is occurring, is ripped from her, all of it; she feels the air on her body and the grass on her belly and breasts; she protests; she struggles; she tries to rise; his hand holds her in place; she cannot rise; her wrists are jerked behind her and enclosed in slave bracelets; she is then leashed, and led from the field; if she resists or dallies she will be whipped; if he has a collar with him it will undoubtedly be put on her; he has saved her life and it now belongs to him, and he will do with it what he wants. He will keep her, have pleasure with her, sell her, or give her away, as he pleases. Accordingly it was with a particular pleasure that he made me, a woman of Earth, now taken from Earth, now collared, now in Gorean bondage, throb, and kick, and spasm in his arms, squirming, and crying out, leaping and writhing, gasping, and moaning, licking and kissing, a ravished, subdued, begging slave. He then kissed me, and then put his cloak over me, over my head, blanketlike. The cloak, as he had thrown it over me, would come high on my thighs. It would be as though I might be a new purchase, naked from a sales barn, being fetched back to a domicile, the master's cloak, for want of something better, cast over me. She had squirmed beneath him, plaintively protesting, trying weakly to push him away, and then, kissing him and grasping him, had wept her surrender. Putting her to her belly at his feet, of course, in her proper place, perhaps as an experiment, he might find that she, fearfully and gratefully licking and kissing, was actually a woman, a true woman, with a true woman's needs, desires, and responses, something quite different from what he had originally conjectured. Arconious. Surely he had seen her buck and squirm, and spasm, and writhe, and moan and gasp, and lick and kiss, and grovel, and beg, and wrap her small legs about the large bodies of masters, as though she might thusly hold them the more securely to her. "One lusts for slaves, one wants them, madly," said he. "One chains and collars them, one uses them, one puts them as one wishes, in whatever postures or attitudes, one ropes and thongs them, one leads them about on leashes, one forces them to serve, fearfully, abjectly, licking and kissing, kneeling, crawling, begging to please! Such inspire in men the mightiest of conquering passions! There is no triumph which compares with the ownership of a woman! With a slave at one's feet, one's head brushes the stars!" Then with a great laugh he swept her up into his arms and carried her lightly, helplessly, to the bedroom. The slave, so carried, clung to him, kissing at him, wildly, piteously. She had always had whatever she wanted of men, and he was a man. He would be no different. Perhaps she might even permit him to kiss her. She might find that interesting. She wondered what it might be to be kissed by him. She had been kissed before, of course, once or twice, by men of Earth, as much as an experiment as anything else. In both cases she had pretended shock and indignation. "They had not seen the women of Gor," he said. To be sure, beauty is more than a mere combination of external relationships, the eyes to the hair, the thigh to the forearm, and such. Beyond such things, of course, it is difficult to define but then, so, too, is almost anything of importance. It is perhaps more analogous to an illumination, or a whisper, or a kiss, than a measurement. But to return to the meeting of lips, or the pressing or touching of lips, by one or both parties, and such, which the translator, upon inquiry, suggests may be spoken of as a kiss, we note that the slave may be kissed and must kiss whenever the master pleases, and however he pleases, for she is owned. Similarly, the master commands not only the lips of the slave, but her tongue, teeth, hair, hands, and body. All of her, you see, belongs to him. She exists for his service and pleasure. She usually cooks, cleans and launders for him, and, in general, cares for his clothing, his belongings, including herself, and his quarters. She welcomes him to his domicile, kneeling. She is no stranger to petitionings, placations, prostrations, and obeisances. She is familiar with helplessness and subordination, for she is a slave. She is not unfamiliar with chains and ropes, or hoods, blindfolds and gags. Such things liberate her sexually and remind her, and clearly, that she is not a free woman. She is likely to be trained in duties both domestic and erotic. Once the slave fires have been lit in her belly, her freedom is behind her. Henceforth, she belongs to men. Thus one should not be surprised to find her on her knees before a man, her head down, kissing his feet, in piteous supplication for his touch. She is slave. "Many a Ubara," said he, "conquered, stripped, learns to belly, and lick and kiss, as the most abject of slaves." "Come away with me," she said. "Perhaps I will let you hold me, and touch me, and kiss me." "I have never forgotten your kiss, by the lock in the sport cylinder," she said. The girl was perhaps on the edge of bondage. Perhaps she had begun to sense the stirring, the begging, of her secret slave, the need of a woman to be such, her master's beast, his animal, on his chain, licking and kissing, hoping to please. "You yourself kissed me," she said, "in the forest world." "Kiss me," she said. "No one is looking. I will permit it." "Certainly," said Corinna, "but he may keep her in suspense, see to it that she begs prettily, and such, and sometimes, the monsters, will bring us to the brink of ecstasy, for which each particle of our hungering, raging body cries out, and then pause, that we may the better know ourselves as subdued and helpless slaves, fully at the mercy of our masters, and then, if they wish, when they wish, if we beg desperately and piteously enough, they might grant us the tiny kiss or touch which sends us weeping amongst the stars." "Yes, Master," she said. "But reject my wine, as I know you will. Do not play longer with me. I have suffered enough. I know now you despise me. You have not touched me. I know I am only an ignorant Earth-girl, who finds herself unaccountably in a man's collar. I cannot dance. I do not know the kisses. I cannot compete with the Corinnas of the camp. I am not Gorean. I am only an ignorant Earth girl." I then rolled to the side, and struggled with the vital thing in my arms, kissing, and licking me, gasping, wanting more, and more. "I will let you hold me in your arms!" she said. "I will let you kiss me! I know you always wanted to do that! Help me! Help me!" "You think to bargain with a free man, slave?" inquired Lord Nishida. "Get on your knees, and lick and kiss his feet, begging forgiveness." The guards released the slave, and she knelt, terrified, before Pertinax, and put down her head and began to lick and kiss his feet. "I am sorry," she said. "Forgive me, Gregory." 'Let me go!' I begged. 'I will let you kiss me!' 'But you are a free woman,' he reminded me. 'No matter!' I said. I realized he wanted me uncollared, the beast, that it might be clearer what he was doing, that he was preparing to kiss a free woman. Surely that was not such a kiss as might be given to a free woman! "Do you think you can kneel and belly, and crawl, and lick and kiss, and beg, and thrash and writhe?" I asked. "A slave must obey," she said. "Innocent?" he cried. "A slave, innocent! See her beauty! You say she can help nothing! Every movement, every wisp of her hair, is guilty! Her ankles, her wrists, her bosom, her eyes, her lips, her feet, her hands, each quarter hort of her, each bit of her, each particle of her is guilty! Innocent? A slave, innocent! Does her beauty not wrench the heart of a man! Might not her smile slay with the swiftness of a quarrel? Is her touch not more dangerous than that of the ost? Does she not make a man helpless! Might she not conquer with a whisper, a caress? A kiss might breach the walls of a city, overturn the thrones of Ubars! What net, what web, can compare with her laughter?" "She seems a passionate little thing," I said. "Are you going to breed her?" "Yes, breed me, breed me, Master," she wept, kissing him. "I will try to be pleasing to my master," she said. "Fully pleasing," he said. "Yes," she said, kissing him, "fully pleasing." He then took some time to embrace and kiss Alcinoë. "It is not simply that she is beautiful, that she is exquisite, that she is delicate, that she has deep, profound eyes, lips made for kisses, small wrists and ankles, that her body is rich in slave curves, in the many turnings and planes which the auctioneer's whip calls to our attention. It goes mysteriously beyond such things, eluding calculations and measurements." The slave swiftly nodded, frightened. Her hair moved about her shoulders as she did this. I wanted to seize her in my arms, fling her to the floor, and cover her with kisses. My training will not be detailed. Interestingly, it lasted only a few days. One learns the kisses and caresses, the kneelings, the manner of tying sandals, of dressing and bathing masters, and such, but most attention was devoted, interestingly, to the acquisition of Gorean, and a number of servile skills, such as cooking, sewing, cleaning, laundering, and such. "The slave, Allison," I said, "thanks Mistresses for the training they have given her." They had kissed me, and, shortly thereafter, one of the guards arrived, the hood dangling in his hand. In leaving, it seemed we must pass them. Sometimes it is difficult to pass a free male, under certain conditions, without a kiss or a slap. I waited in the street for a time, and then chose a handsome, young Tarnster. Such, I was sure, would be interested in the lips of a slave. I trusted he would not strike me from him. I hurried before him, and knelt down, blocking his way, humbly, and seized his left leg, and pressed my head, lowered, against his leg, as I had seen the paga girl do. I then lifted my head and eyes to him, and said, as she had, "A slave would be kissed, Master." "Very well," he said, and lifted me up and spent a few Ihn with me. "Is Master pleased?" I asked. "Very much," he said, "which is your tavern?" "Ela, Master," I cried, hurrying away, "I have only the tavern of my beauty." "Is this all there is to it," I asked, "that I was taken in hand, blindfolded, and kissed, and that is all?" "The tarsk-bit was paid," said he in whose charge I was. "A kiss, barbarian slut," said the driver, reaching for me. "You have had your kiss, Master," I laughed. "I must now serve another." "You should be lashed to the bone," he said, but then fell to his side, asleep. "Line up!" called he in whose care I was. "A last kiss." "Kiss well, Allison," said he in whose charge I was. I then, helpless, was well reminded of my hatred for this brute who could deny me speech, who could punish me, who could do much what he wished with me, and would, and to whom I suspected I belonged. "Consider her lips," said he in whose charge I was, "are they not helplessly moist, open, soft, sweet, and full, yielding, and ready, and eager, "just right for a collar slut." "Perhaps this vain, petty, meaningless slave slut is of interest to Master," I said. "Perhaps," he said. "Kiss me!" I said. "Kiss me," he said. "Oh, yes, Master," I said. "And you would lick and kiss it lengthily, devotedly, splendidly," he said. "You kissed me in Ar," I said. "You even made me respond to you, and as a slave!" "You did such things to me in Ar, by Six Bridges," I said, "with your kiss, your touch." "Let us have a kiss instead," said the other. He opened his arms, and I hurried to him, and I was enfolded in his arms, and our lips met. I was held very tightly, and the kiss was a typical claiming kiss of a master. He then thrust me away, I half turning, into the arms of his fellow and I found myself again handled as what I was, a slave girl. Certainly human history was filled with men who had betrayed a family, a party, a state, friends, allies, principles, honor, themselves, for the sake of an affair, a dalliance, a smile, a kiss. I wondered how many kisses, and embraces, I might be forced to endure, back-braceleted. Still, a hot slave is a precious possession. It is one of the great pleasures of the mastery to play with his toy, to patiently lick, kiss, and caress his property, it perhaps helplessly bound or chained, to turn it into a writhing, pleading, sobbing, subdued, owned, gasping, bucking, lovely, helpless, ecstatic beast. Surely it was not for this that I had been taught in the house to cook, clean, launder, and sew, to tie a tunic, to move with grace, to speak as a slave, to kneel, belly, lick, and kiss, to eat and drink from pans, to gratefully receive scraps from a master's hand, to apply cosmetics, to fetch a whip or slippers in my teeth, to bedeck myself with beads and armlets, to wear bells, to beg in a hundred ways, to present myself in chains, to please men in the furs. It was common to be delayed in our duties, to be embraced, fondled, and kissed. "Please, stay with me, but a moment, Master!" I begged, reaching out to him. I wanted to be held, to be kissed, to be sheltered, to be warmed by his presence, to be spoken to. I shall not enter into the details of my training. Understand, of course, that it was the training of a female slave, having to do with the serving and pleasing of masters. We learned the kisses, and caresses, the kneelings, the rollings, and beggings, the obeisances, the floor movements of a property girl, and so much more. "I suppose you have been taught to kneel and belly, to roll and squirm, to lick and kiss," she said. "I love my collar," I said. "I would not change it for a necklace of diamonds. I am a slave, a natural slave. I have known this even from girlhood. I want to be owned, to belong, to be a possession. I want to be dominated, mastered. I want to be rightless. I want to surrender to a man, wholly, to be his, wholly, his animal, his property. I want to kneel, kiss, caress, obey, love, and serve." I pulled her higher, from beside me, and kissed her. "A candy!" she said. "I have served you, abjectly and completely, for Ahn, again and again, for an evening and a night, and you would give me a candy!" "I see, as I suspected earlier," I said, "you are still learning your collar. I paid for my paga, and you, worthless paga slut, come with the paga. Do you think to bargain? Do you think you are a free woman, to sell favors, to charge for a kiss or caress? You are a slave. One does not pay a slave; if one pays, one pays her master. You are an object, an animal. Nothing is owed to an object, an animal. As a rightless object, a small, nicely curved pleasure beast, you must strive to be pleasing, fully pleasing, and hope to be spared the lash." There are many ways in which a slave can beg, small movements, tiny sounds, glances, an expression, kneeling and kissing, fastening the bondage knot in one's hair, crawling, fetching a whip and dropping it at one's feet, signifying submission, and so on. "What has become of me?" she asked. "I want the feel of ropes. I want to be braceleted. I want to kneel and beg. I want to lick and kiss. I want to be pleasing! I am so different from what I was!" We kneel; we kiss; we obey instantly and unquestioningly; we are clothed, if clothed, for his pleasure; we are subject to his whip; we may be bought and sold; we are owned, wholly, as much as a boot or cup, but he would place his life in jeopardy to protect us; he would die for us. "But I want to be owned," I said. "I want to be a possession. I want a Master. I want to kneel, to kiss, and obey!" |
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