He then descended from the dais, and stood near me. I looked straight ahead, clutching the tiny garment. He was huge, next to me. I felt very tiny. He put the coils of the whip under my chin, and pressed up a little. I held my chin up. the nearness of his presence, and his virile, brutish masculinity made me terribly uneasy.
"What is your name," he asked.
"Whatever Master pleases," I said, quickly.
I had not yet been named in this house. The words «slut» or «slave» served well enough to summon me. I trembled. I realized I might, in a moment, be named. They that would be who I would be, as simply are that, like any animal. "Come here," he said, "and lie down, on your back, on this step." He had indicated the second step leading to the height of the dais. I complied. "Place your left foot on the first step," he said, "and put your right foot her, on the third step."
I did so. This opened my legs.
"Now," he said, "put your arms back, over your head."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"That exposes your armpits," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.
He looked down at me. "What were you called in the house of your training?" he asked.
"Doreen," I said.
"Very well," he said, "you are Doreen."
"Thank you, Master," I said, named. This had been my name on Earth. I wore it now, of course, only as a slave name. It could have been anything.
"Doreen," he said.
"Yes, Maser," I said, responding to my name.
"You are now to lie as you are," he said, "until you receive permission to change your position. You are to lie in this position, and very quietly. If you do not, it will be extremely dangerous for you. In particular, make no sudden moves."
"Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.
He then went to the side of the room, where there dangled three or four cords. I lifted my head a little to watch him. he drew on one of these cords. I saw a panel lift in the wall. It exposed a low opening, only about a yard in height. It was dark within this portal, but I saw, it stretching backwards, what appeared to be a low, dark tunnel. He then came back, and crouched down, near me, above me, on the third step.
He put his whip aside, near him. He put his hand gently on my collar.
"Master?" I asked.
"Be quiet," he said.
I lay there, quietly. Then, suddenly, I felt hair on the back of my neck rising. "Maser!" I said.
"Lie quietly," he said.
I could now hear, from some distance down the tunnel, the sound of something approaching. It was coming rapidly. I heard snuffling noise. I heard panting. I could hear claws on the floor of the tunnel.
"Lie quietly," cautioned my master, literally holding me in place, his hand gripping my collar.
Then something burst into the room.
Half choking, my head was forced back down, by the collar.
"If you want, keep your eyes closed," he said.
Whatever it was had apparently stopped just within the room.
"It will take a moment for its eyes to adjust to the light," he said. "But it is done very quickly."
The room was not brightly lit.
"I think you will like Borko," he said.
"What is it?" I whispered. My head was held down, back on the second step. "Keep you legs apart," he said. "It is a gray sleen. I raised it from a whelp. Ah, greetings, Borko! How are you, old fellow?"
I would have screamed and reared up, but I was thrust back, helpless, half strangled, scarcely able to utter a sound, to the step. So our masters can control us by our collars. To my terror, then, pushing over my body, to thrust its great jaws and head, so large I could scarcely have put my arms around them, into the hands and arms of my master, was an incredible beast. It had an extremely again, active, sinuous body, as thick as a drum, and perhaps fourteen or fifteen feet long. It might have weighed a thousand pounds. Its broad head was triangular, almost viperlike, but it was furred. This thing was a mammal, or mamalian. Its eyes now had pupils like slits, like those of a cat in sunlight. So quickly then might its adaptive mechanisms have functioned. About its muzzle were gray hairs, grayer than the silvered gray of its fur. It had six legs. "Good lad!" said my master, roughly fondling that great fierce head. "We have been through much together, Borko and I," said my master. "He has even, twice, saved my life. Once when I was struck, unexpectedly, by one foolishly thought to be a friend, the origin of this scar," he said, indicating good-humoredly the hideous, jagged tissue at the left side of his face, "I told Borko to hunt. The fellow did not escape. Borko brought part of him back to me, in his jaws."
I watched in terror as my master, over my body, scratched and pulled, and shoved, at that great head. Clearly he was inordinately fond of that terrible beast, and perhaps it of him. I saw his eyes. He lavished affection upon it. He cared more for it than his girls, I was certain. Perhaps it was the only thing he trusted, other than himself, the only thing he knew that he could rely upon, other than himself, the only thing, of all creatures he knew, who had proved its love and loyalty to him. If this were so, then perhaps it was not incredible that he might bestow upon it a fondness, or love, which he, betrayed perhaps by men, might withhold from others, from men, and slaves.
"Do you know what you and Borko have in common?" he asked me.
"We are both your animals, Master," I said.
"Yes!" he said. "And do you know who is most valuable?"
"No, Master," I said.
"Borko," he said, "is a seasoned hunting sleen. Even to strangers he would bring a hundred times what you would bring in the market."
I was silent. I was frightened with those huge jaws, the two rings of fangs, the long, dark tongue, over me.
"But I would not sell him for anything," he said. "He is worth more to me than ten thousand of you."
"Yes, Master," I whispered.
"Borko!" he said, sternly. "Borko."
The beast pulled back its head, observing him.
"Learn slave," he said. "Learn slave."
I then began to whimper. "Hold still," said my master.
The beast then began to push its nose and muzzle about me, thrusting it here and there, about me. I now understood why I had been spread as I had, on the steps. "The sleen," he said, "and especially the gray sleen, is Gor" s finest tracker. It is a relentless, tenacious tracker. It can follow a scent that is weeks old, for a thousand pasangs."
I whimpered, the beast" s snout thrust between my things, sniffing.
"Please, Master," I whimpered.
I felt it nuzzling then at my waist and breasts. It was learning me.
"Do you know what the sleen hunts?" he asked.
"No, Master," I whimpered.
"In the wild it commonly hunts tabuk and wild tarsk," he said, "but it is an intelligent beast, and it can be trained to hunt anything."
"Yes, Master," I whimpered.
He held back my right arm, further, exposing more the armpit.
"Do you know what Borko is trained to hunt?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said.
I felt the snout of the beast then poking about my throat and under my chin, to the side, and then at the side of my neck. My maser then held my left arm further, exposing the armpit to the beast.
"It is trained to hunt men, and slaves," he said.
"No!" I wept.
I squirmed, but my master held me steady, by the collar and my left wrist, held back. the beast thrust its snout against me, there, in the armpit, and then sniffed along the interior of my left arm, and then along the left side of my body.
I whimpered in terror.
"Try not to be afraid," he said. "That might excite Borka"
"Yes, Master," I whimpered.
Then the beast drew back its head.
"Doreen," said my master to the beast, slowly, clearly. "Doreen. Doreen." The beast again sniffed me.
"Doreen," said my master, grinning to the beast. "Doreen."
I shuddered.
The beast then drew back its head again.
"Back, Borko," said my master, and the beast inched back, its eyes on me. I was shuddering. I dared not move.
"Borko is trained to respond to a variety of signals," he said.