Her hands twisted helplessly behind her in the bracelets. Her body became alive with need. Her thighs flamed. She was muchly aroused.
He then, with an angry sound, flung Ellen, painfully, by the hair, to his left side, and she lay there, her head at his left thigh.
“I am ready to please my Master,” she said. “Please let me do so.”
“No,” he said.
She dared to press her lips softly to his thigh. She hoped she would not be beaten.
“Why did you do that?” he asked.
“I think,” she said, “that a slave loves her master.”
“Liar,” he said softly. But he did not seem angry, nor did he strike her.
He then pulled the blanket away from her and spread it on the grass, in such way that it might be laid upon, and, when it was folded, it would cover them, as well. At his gesture, pointing, she took her place on the blanket, so that when he lay upon it, her head would be at his thigh. She was, of course, on the blanket to his left, as he was right-handed. In this way, by simply turning, he could easily handle, dominate and possess her. The closed side of the blanket was to his left, as well. In this way, the slave is confined between the closure of the blanket and the body of the master. Too, in this arrangement, the open side of the blanket being to his right, he could leave the blanket instantly, his sword hand free.
He then lay under the blanket, supine, it folded over the two of them. She lay on her side, at his side, back-braceleted, covered completely by the blanket, her head at his thigh. In this way, her head covered, she could not see what might transpire in the camp. She would be kept, suitably, in “slave ignorance.”
“Master,” she said.
“Yes?” he said.
“May I speak?”
“Yes.”
“I am collared, Master,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“I am an animal, Master,” she whispered.
“I am well aware of that,” he said.
“I am a collared animal, who cannot remove her collar,” she said.
“Certainly,” he said. “You are a slave.”
“Are not masters concerned for their animals? Are not masters kind to their animals?”
“To some, perhaps,” he said, “but you are a special sort of animal, a human female animal, a slave. One need not be concerned for such animals, nor need one be kind to them.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Perhaps you remember the tarsk pen, the railing, and the whip?”
“Yes, Master,” she said, frightened.
“You are a transparent, manipulative little slut,” he said.
“Forgive me, Master!”
Again she pressed her lips, softly, to his thigh.
“Master.”
“Yes?”
“Might the blanket not be turned a little, put aside a bit, so that I might the more easily speak to my master?”
“I can hear you,” he said.
“Master!”
“No,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
She lay at his thigh, covered. Sometimes she could hear the small noises of the nearby fire. A breeze ruffled the leaves of a nearby tree. Occasional insect noises might be heard.
“Master.”
“Yes?”
“I am back-braceleted,” she said, “and am beside you, at your thigh, utterly helpless, a woman, and a slave.”
He was silent.
“Perhaps Master might make use of me,” she said.
“Why?” he said.
“I am pretty,” she said. “How is it that I do not please Master?”
“You are worthless,” he said.
“Master paid much for me,” she said.
“I cannot deny that it is pleasant to own you,” he said.
“I do not know what to do,” she wept. She pulled a bit at the bracelets, in frustration. How well aware she was of her helplessness, of her wrists’ captivity, they fastened so effectively, so closely, behind her, imprisoned so securely within their light, close-linked circlets.
“I do not understand,” he said.
“I am Master’s,” she said. “If I am not now pleasing, I beg to be informed as to how I may become pleasing.”
“You wish to be pleasing?”
“Yes, Master!”
“Liar,” he said.
“No, Master,” she said. “I do want to please you!”
“Perhaps,” he said.
“I want you to want me,” she whispered. “I want to be attractive to Master. What can I do? I do not know what to do! Perhaps I might be adorned? Perhaps Master might bedeck me, according to his fancy or wont? Would that help? I do not know. I want to be attractive to him.”
“Perhaps some cheap bangles,” he said.
She recalled, from Earth, the two, small, golden loops she had once worn on her left wrist, in class.
“As Master pleases,” she said.
“Perhaps,” said he, “bells on an ankle.”
“Whatever pleases Master,” she said.
“Locked, in place,” he said.
“Certainly, Master.”
On Gor it is not unusual to bell a slave, and the erotic clash of such bells, slave bells, on an ankle, in the markets and parks, in the plazas and bazaars, is a frequently heard sound. And the same bells which serve so well to draw attention to a lovely, demurely tunicked slave in the sul market, her shopping basket balanced with one hand on her head, serve as well, doubtless, to record in their jangling her leapings and squirmings in the arms of her master.
“Perhaps I will buy you earrings,” he said.
“As Master wishes,” she said.
“You would be a pierced-ear girl?” he asked, surprised.
“I have no fear of such things,” she said.
“You are indeed a worthless slave,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
Earrings, on Gor, interestingly, are placed on only the lowest of slaves. Nose rings, incidentally, for whatever reason, do not carry the same connotation of degradation, and such. Indeed, Ellen has been informed that in the southern hemisphere such rings are worn by even free women amongst certain nomadic tribes. Complex veiling and the Robes of Concealment are most common, of course, in urban areas, and particularly so amongst women of the higher castes. To be sure, even peasant women may veil themselves before strangers, and, one supposes, wisely.
Many Gorean slave girls live in terror of having their ears pierced. To be sure, this not unoften improves their price. Woe to the Earth girl brought to Gor whose ears are pierced. She will be sold publicly, as a “pierced-ear girl.”
Ellen, of course, had no objection to various adornments and enhancements. On Earth she would have deplored such things as politically scandalous, but, on the other hand, had often dreamed of herself so adorned. As in many facets of dress and ornamentation the effect of such things is stimulating to the woman as well as to he under whose gaze she finds herself.
“In my training,” she said, “the guards often bound me in pretty cords. This seemed to please them. I gather I looked well in them.” To be sure, Ellen knew she was remarkably fetching in such constraints, particularly when nude. Had she not seen herself in the mirrors, when ordered to struggle in them, and had she not noted the reactions of the guards? “You will tie me in pretty cords, will you not, sometimes, Master?” she wheedled. The sight of her helplessly bound in such cords, she hoped, might please him. Too, she, their helpless prisoner, had found them astonishingly arousing, as well.
“Coarse ropes will do for you, slut,” he said. “Squirm in them, by yourself, cold and miserable, alone in the woods, tied by your neck to a tree.”
“A slave wants to please her master,” she wept.
“Are your slave needs much upon you?” he inquired.
“Yes, Master!” she whispered, intensely.
“I find that amusing,” he said.