Smugglers of Gor - By John Norman Page 0,55

She had not even sold for a full tarsk. Probably I had come north for the coin, or for curiosity, or, at least, for adventure. Certainly not for a slave. Perhaps she was not even here, and, if not, what would it matter, and who would find that of interest? Why, I wondered, had I signed articles, to ply the trade in such a far place, again and again. What had I hoped to find? Why, I wondered, now, was I unconcerned, even indifferent to the matter, that my unaccountable dalliance in Brundisium had resulted in my failure to keep the rendezvous on Daphne? Usually I am reliable, even scrupulous, in such matters. One could always, again, of course, later, consider the perusal of the slave orchards, the culling of the far slave herds. Undoubtedly I would do so. There are pleasant aspects to the work, and it pays well.

But perhaps I would not do so.

I did not know.

I had seen no sign of her in Tarncamp.

I wondered if she were here. What did it matter?

Chapter Thirteen

The Pani seldom touch us, for we are inferior. I am not even sure that they respect their mercenaries, and laborers.

On the fourth day, after the shore of Thassa, we reached the large, sprawling, extensive set of buildings and shops called Tarncamp. I now wore a Tarncamp collar. To my joy I was cast a tunic which I eagerly donned. It was the first I had worn since the house. I suppose it scarcely rates the appellation of a garment, but it is precious to us. As animals we need not be permitted clothing, but, I am informed, many cities recommend the clothing of slaves in public, assuming that the clothing makes it clear that we are slaves, which injunction the masters see to, to their satisfaction. Presumably that we are attired, after a fashion, is to spare the sensibilities of free women and, perhaps, to reduce, to some extent, the accostings, encounters, provocations, and such, which might be attendant on the public exhibition of wholly bared, collared properties. To be sure, slaves, particularly formerly free Gorean women, are sometimes publicly paraded naked, saving for their locked neck bands, that they may the better understand that they are now slaves. Too, this is sometimes done for a slave who has in some way failed to be fully pleasing. We try to be fully pleasing. And one, after a time, desires to be found fully pleasing. One hopes to be a pleasing, desired slave. It is a warm, precious, beautiful thing to be. I, and the others of my rope, had been given brief, common tunics. As most such tunics, these were sleeveless and, of course, lacked a nether closure. The slave is to understand herself as always available to the master. The tunics were brown, of cheap rep-cloth. They were not wrap-around tunics, nor the sort with a disrobing loop at the left shoulder, for the convenience of a right-handed master. These slipped over the head. This did not really afford an impediment to our use, as they might be easily thrust up to our waist. I think there is little doubt that the slave tunic, in its variations, is an attractive, provocative garment. How can a woman be displayed more attractively, or be made more aware of her womanhood, than being placed in the garment of a slave? It is sometimes thought that in such a garment a woman is more naked than naked, at least in the sense that it leaves few of her charms to the imagination, invites attention, and suggests the pleasures that might await its removal. Still we were pleased, extremely pleased, that the masters had seen fit to clothe us, though, of course, fittingly, as slaves.

Shortly after having arrived at Tarncamp, after our collaring, and before we were given tunics, we were put in examination position, standing, feet spread, head back, hands clasped behind the back of our head. Aligned so, we were examined, measured, and, I fear, assessed, and also, I gather, registered in some way, as records were kept.

I, and some of the others, sometimes gasped, or whimpered, even moaned, in the course of our examination.

“Oh,” I had said, suddenly. “Oh!” I had cried.

My hips had jerked. This was inadvertent. I could not help the response of my body. I had half bent over at the waist. I had almost freed my hands from the clasping behind the back of my head. Fortunately I had not

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