"Yes!" she cried, holding her skirt up about her face, it clenched n her small fists, to veil herself with it. There was laughter then, doubtless not only at the preposterousness of the situation but, too, at the incongruity of so obvious a slave, such a lovely Brigella, enunciating such a line.
"Boots puffed across the stage, as though to obtain a better vantage point.
"Tal, noble sir," she said.
"Tal, noble lady," said he.
"Is anything wrong?" she inquired.
"I would say that there is very little wrong, if anything," he said.
"Have you never seen a free woman before?" she asked.
"This farce is an insult to free women!" cried the free woman in the audience, she in the blue of the scribes.
"Have you never seen a free woman before?" repeated the Brigella.
"Generally I do not see so much of them," Boots admitted, as the merchant.
"I see," said the Brigella.
"Often not half so much," said Boots.
"Insulting!" cried the free woman.
"But I expect I see more of you than most," he said.
"Insulting! Insulting!" cried the free woman.
"Are you dismayed that I do not receive you properly?" asked the Brigella.
"I should be pleased," Boots assured her, "if it were your intention to receive me at all, either properly or improperly."
"What lady could do otherwise?" she inquired.
"Indeed!" Boots cried enthusiastically.
"I mean, of course," she said, "that I apologize for having to veil myself so hastily, making such swift and resourceful use of whatever materials might be at hand."
"I effect nothing critical," he assured her.
"Then you do not think the less of me?" she asked.
"No, I admire you. I admire you!" he said, admiring her.
"And thus," she said, "do we free women show men our modesty."
"And you have a very lovely modesty," affirmed Boots, admiringly.
"Oh!" she cried, suddenly, as though in the most acute embarrassment, and, crouching down, hastily pulled her skirt down about her ankles.
"I thought you were a free woman," exclaimed Boots.
"I am!" she cried. "I am!"
"And you go face-stripped before a strange man?" he inquired.
"Oh!" she cried, miserably, leaping up, once more pulling her skirt up, high about her face, using it once more to conceal her features.
"Ah!" cried Boots, appreciatively.
"Oh!" she cried in misery, thrusting her skirt down as though in great embarrassment.
"Face-stripped!" cried Boots, as though scandalized.
Up went the skirt.
"Ah!" cried Boots. "Ah!"
"What is a poor girl to do!" cried the Brigella. "What is a poor girl to do!"
The skirt's hem, clutched in her small hands, she moaning with misery and frustration, leapt up and down, again and again, in ever-shortening cycles until she held it, frustratedly, between her bosom and throat. In this fashion, of course, to the amusement of most of the crowd, it concealed neither her "modesty," so to speak, nor her features.
It must be understood, of course, to fully appreciate what was going on, that the public exposure of the features of a free woman, particularly on of high caste, or with some pretense to position or status, is a socially serious matter in many Gorean localities. Indeed, in some cities an unveiled free woman is susceptible to being taken into custody by guardsmen, then to be veiled, by force if necessary, and publicly conducted back to her home. Indeed, in some cities she is marched back to her home stripped, except for the face veil which has been put on her. In these cases a crowd usually follows, to see to what home it is that she is to be returned. Repeated offenses in such a city usually result in the enslavement of the female. Such serious measures, of course, are seldom required to protect such familiar Gorean proprieties. Custom, by itself, normally suffices.
Social pressures, too, in various ways, contribute to the same end. An unveiled woman, for example, may find other women turning away from her in a market, perhaps with expressions of disgust. Indeed, she may not even be waited upon, or dealt with, in a market by a free woman unless she first kneels. It would not be unusual for her., in a crowded place, to overhear remarks, perhaps whispers or sneers, of which she is the obvious object, such as "Shameless slut," "Brazen baggage," "As immodest as a slave," "I wonder who her master is," and "Put a collar on her!" And if she should attempt to confront or challenge her assailants, she will merely find such remarks repeated articulately and clearly to her face.
Slaves, incidentally, are commonly forbidden facial veiling. Their features are commonly kept naked, exposed fully to public view. In this way they may be looked upon by men, even casually, whenever and however they might be pleased to do so. That the Earth girl commonly thinks little of this exposure of her features, incidentally, is one of the many reasons that many Goreans think of her as a natural slave. For a Gorean girl that she is now, suddenly, no longer entitled to facial veiling, unless it pleases the master to grant it to her, is one of the most fearful and significant aspects of her transition into bondage. Her features, in all their sensitivity and beauty, so intimate, personal and private to her, so revelatory of her deepest and most secret thoughts, feelings and emotions, are now exposed to public view, to be looked upon, and read, by whomsoever may be pleased to do so.
It is interesting to note that even some Earth girls on Gor, after a short while, tend to become sensitive to this sort of thing. It is usually interpreted by both sorts of girls, then, for a time, as a part of the «shame» of the collar. In a little longer while, of course, neither sort of girl, the Gorean girl or the Earth girl now sensitive to the subtler implications of facial exposure, thinks anything more about it, or at least not normally. Both have now learned that they are now naught but slaves, and that that is all there is to it. No longer do they aspire to the prerogatives of the free woman. Their exposure, their human legibility, so to speak, like their obedience, service, love and discipline, is part of their condition. In a sense they find it liberating. It frees them from the temptations of deceit, pretense and restraint. Seldom now do they think, among themselves, of the «shame» of the collar. Rather now, in their place in the perfection of nature, yielded fully, helplessly, choicelessly, if you like, submitted at the feet of men, their deepest sexuality and needs recognized, attended to and fulfilled, they tend to think of its joy. No longer do they aspire to the privileges and prerogatives of the free woman; let her continue to live in her house of inhibition and convention; let her have her frigidities, jealousies and shams; they have found something a thousand times more precious, their meaning, their significance, their happiness, their joy, their fulfillments, their collars.
"What am I to do?" called the lovely Brigella to the crowd, the hem of her garment clutched up about her neck. her lovely lips pouted. It seemed she was almost in tears. How seemingly distraught she was, how seemingly dismayed she was with her dilemma!
"Kneel down!" called a man jovially.
"Take off your clothes!" called another.
"Lick his feet!" suggested another.
"Slave!" said the free woman, coldly, imperiously, obviously addressing the Brigella, and in no uncertain terms.
"Mistress," responded the girl immediately, frightened, breaking out of character, turning about and kneeling down. She had been addressed by a free woman.
"Head to the boards!" snapped the free woman.
Immediately the girl put her head down to the boards. She trembled. Such women are totally at the mercy of free persons.
"Are you the owner of this slave?" asked the free woman of Boots Tarsk-Bit.
"yes, Lady," he said.
"I suggest that she be beaten," she said.
"Perhaps an excellent suggestion," said Boots Tarsk-Bit. "as she is a lave, but have you any special reason in mind, not that one needs one, of course."
"I do not care for her performance," said the free woman.