think we carry about the wardrobes of free women in the forest.”
“Cruel slave!” said Tuza.
“Such things were never an option,” wept Darla.
“Certainly not,” said Donna.
“You are clothed!” said Tuza.
“If you can call it that,” said Darla.
“My master has permitted it,” said Donna. “Do you like it? Is it not attractive? It is easy to move in such a garment.”
“It is scarcely a scrap of cloth,” said Tuza.
“It is enough for me,” said Donna. “It is appropriate for me. I am a slave.”
“Clothe us!” begged Tuza.
“With what?” asked Donna.
Tuza, turning, on her knees, pointed to us. “There!” she said.
“But there are only three tunics there,” she said.
“One for me,” said Tuza, “one for Darla, and let Emerald and Hiza cast a moistened pebble for the last.”
“You would be willing to wear the rags of slaves?” asked Donna.
I doubt that Tula and Mila, any more than I, were pleased at this turn of discourse. Perhaps slaves are not permitted modesty, but few of us are without it. It is perhaps a bit like curiosity, which is supposedly unbecoming to a kajira, but who of us is without it? Certainly few of us would relish public nudity. Indeed, that is sometimes used as a discipline, sending us on errands so, and such. Our garmenture is precious to us, and we strive to be worthy of it. Indeed, Gorean slaves, even pleasure slaves, are often clothed far more modestly than many free women of my former world. Much of this is cultural, of course. A simple example would be veiling. Statistically, few women on my former world veil their features, but, on Gor, free women, particularly of upper caste, commonly veil themselves in public. On Gor a woman’s lips are commonly regarded as sexually stimulatory. Thus veiling is common. On the other hand, slaves are not permitted veiling. They may not conceal their lips. Their lips, in all their erotic provocativeness, are to be publicly visible. They are slaves. Interestingly, nudity is not that unusual on Gor amongst manual laborers on hot days. It is more familiar than, and one thinks less of it than, the occasional, usually rare, public nudity of female slaves. Even paga girls are normally clothed, save in the alcoves. In private, in the confines of her master’s domicile, of course, the slave may or may not be clothed. Some masters like to have a slave clothed, and others not. If she is clothed, of course, then the master may have the pleasure of removing the clothing. My own tunic, for example, like many, had a disrobing loop at its left shoulder. This is convenient for most men, as they are right-handed. Others, it seems, enjoy seeing their property about, clad only in its collar.
“But,” said Donna, “you have not earned a tunic.”
“We are free women,” said Darla.
“I think it is time for us to be about our work,” said Donna. “I think the first thing for us to do will be to gather soft boughs for the masters, that they may the better rest upon retiring. Then we may draw water, and fetch wood.”
“Never!” said Tuza.
Then she cried out with pain as Donna savagely struck her, four times, with the switch she carried. Tuza bent down, low, her body trembling, her hands over her head, her hair to the dirt, and began to cry.
Two or three of the men about looked over, but none made any attempt to interfere.
Donna gave Tuza two more strokes.
I was in consternation. I was frightened. A slave is not to strike a free person. A slave’s hands, and ears, and nose may be cut off. It is often regarded as a capital offense.
“A free woman has been struck!” Darla shouted to the men about. “A free woman has been struck by a slave, by a slave!”
The leader, who was in converse with two of his men, turned about, annoyed. “Beat her,” he said.
“Bend over,” said Donna to Darla, “grasp your right wrist with your left hand, head to the dirt!”
“Please, no,” said Darla.
Donna then struck her four times, with measured strokes.
“But we are free women,” wept Darla.
“Perhaps you are not free women,” said Donna.
“But we are free women!” cried Tuza.
“If you are free women,” said Donna, “you are captures, and, if so, you will not be the first free women to have felt the switch of a slave. It will help you to learn discipline, and prepare you for the collar.”
“I will not be collared,” cried Tuza. “I will never wear the collar!”