23 Claudia, Slave

The slave lay before me, on her stomach, over a pile of rope, aft on the Tais. Her head was down. Her neck was chained to a ring on the deck. "Is it you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I am afraid of you," she said. As a slave she had a right to this fear, indeed, a right to the fear of any man.

"Do you wish to beg for mercy?" I asked.

"Would my pleas be meaningful?" she asked. "I am a slave. Will masters not do with me as they please, regardless of my pleas?"

"They will do with you as they please," I said, "but if they harken to your pleas, then it may be that what will please them will be to do with you as you plead."

"Then by all means," she said. "I plead for mercy!"

"But will it be shown to you?" I asked.

"I do not know, Master," she whispered.

"That, you see," I said, "is what the masters will decide."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You were once Lady Claudia, of Ar's Station," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Who are you now?" I asked.

"Claudia!" she said, "a slave."

She was pretty, lying on her belly, on the ropes, her head down. "Lift yourself, Claudia, slave," I said.

"Oh!" she said.

She was then held helplessly. She could not so much as move without giving me great pleasure.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

"I am afraid I will yield to you," she whispered.

"And what is wrong with that?" I asked.

"But as a shameless slave!" she wept.

"Do so," I said.

Then, sobbing, then gasping with elation, with relief, she yielded. I could hardly hold her for a moment, even with her small body, so grateful, so wild, so eager she was in her sudden, joyous, spasmodic helplessness.

Then she was on her belly, sobbing, pressing down into the ropes, as though she would hide herself in them. Her head was down, turned to one side, the side of it pressed against the ropes. She sobbed wildly, helplessly, poignantly, not able to understand her own behavior, shamed.

I crouched beside her.

"So that is how a slave is used!" she gasped.

"Sometimes," I said.

"Surely no free woman would be used in such a manner!" she said.

"Presumably not often, at any rate," I granted her. I did know that free women might be, and occasionally were, used in that way, for example, to insult them, or prepare them for the collar. To be sure, the man who used them in that fashion might as well be, I supposed, for most practical purposes, their master. "Do you presume, incidentally," I asked, "to arrogate to yourself the rights or modesties, or the least of the prerogatives of the free woman?"

"No, Master!" she said.

"Do you presume, further," I asked, "to inquire into even the least of the sexual habits or activities of free women, whatever they might be?"

"No, Master!" she said. Her response amused me. Naturally both free women and slaves, as both are women, are very much interested in one another's sexual activities. It is very natural. To be sure, unless the slave is a bred slave, most of this interest is on the part of the free women, for the slaves have usually, at one time or another, been free women, and have a very good idea of how narrow, dull, limited and mediocre is the sex life of the free woman. indeed, the matter is paradoxical, for the free women have a tendency both to inquire eagerly into the behaviors expected of slaves, and enjoined upon them, and, at the same time, commonly profess horror and scandal at what they hear. "Such things are no longer of concern to you, are they?"

"No, Master!" she said.

"And you are a little liar, aren't you?" I asked.

"Forgive me, Master!" she said.

"In any event," I said, "you need not concern yourself any longer with the sexual activities, the proprieties, and such, of the free woman. Your attention is now to be more properly focused on your own business and concerns, for example, such things as the many intricate, exciting, complex and delicious sexual modalities and behaviors of the female slave.

"Yes, Master," she said.

The moons were full. The slave was pretty. It was late. We were one day out from Port Cos.

I then turned her, and lifted her, as I had Publia, holding her knees up, close to her belly. Her body, like Publia's, was a small, curvaceous delight. I then put her on her back, as I had Publia, on the coils of rope.

She turned her face away from me, that out eyes not meet.

"Look at me," I said.

She turned her eyes toward mine, reluctantly, but helplessly, commanded to do so. They were filled with tears. Her lip trembled.

"Surely," I said, "you have been richly used before now. This is not your first night at the ring."

"But I know you," she said.

"And do you think any man can be known as well as a slave knows her master," I asked, "or that any woman can be known as well as a slave is known by her master?"

"I do not know," she said.

"No," I said. "The relationship of master and slave is the relation of total, helpless intimacy."

"Yes, Master," she whispered, frightened.

"To be sure," I said, "the knowing of a master by his slave, and of a slave by her master, cannot occur immediately. It is a natural relationship, and thus like any other natural relationship, for example, between a sleen and its master, it will take time."

"Of course," she said.

"Do you have any questions?" I asked.

"How can a man who truly knows a woman treat her as a slave?" she asked. "It is easy," I said.

She regarded me, frightened.

"His knowledge even facilitates the matter," I said.

"Yes," she said, thoughtfully. "It would."

"There is even a special pleasure in doing so," I said, "in mastering, and commanding, she who is most intimately known."

"I understand," she said.

"Similarly," I said, "the nature of women, what they truly are, most deeply within themselves, apart from, and beneath the gross, accumulated encrustations of artificialities and conventions, which must be peeled away, to reveal the true woman, naked and loving, is important."

"I love men," she confessed, seeming scarcely daring to whisper it. "Are you ashamed of that? I asked.

"Should I not be? she asked.

"No," I said. "You are no longer a free woman. You no longer need to conceal your feelings. You may now openly and freely admit your interest in men and your love for them."

"The intimacies of which you spoke, the knowledges, the closeness," she said, breathlessly, holding to me. "Such things are at the discretion of the master, are they not?"

"Largely," I said.

"And not all masters grant them, do they?" she asked.

"Of course not," I said. I could not deny to her that some masters are heartless, that some are inflexible and cruel. And the coins of such men, of course, have as much buying power as those of anyone else. In fact, sometimes I have suspected that slavers enjoy throwing a girl who is still proud, or who has given them some difficulties, into such clutches. Sometimes after only a week in the power of such brutes a girl is almost willing to give her life to achieve a kind word, or a moment of intimacy. She is then ready to be a slave fully. The slave may be given more or less leash, as seems fitting, but she must always understand that it can be shortened at a moment's notice, and that the whip is always ready.

"How proud I was as a free woman!" she said, shuddering.

"You are no longer a free woman," I said.

"And even a moment ago," she said, "I, as a slave, dared to question your usage of me!"

"That is more serious," I said.

"How proud I was!" she exclaimed. "Punish me!"

"No," I said.

"I was not pleasing!" she said.

"Do not concern yourself with the matter," I said. To be sure, had I taken offense, I would have seen to it that she was much concerned with the matter. "In the cell, the day you escaped," she said, smiling, "do you remember how you lay over me, covering my body with your own."

"Yes," I said.

"I thought you were trying to protect me, like a gentleman," she laughed. "I was protecting you," I said.

"But you used me!" she laughed.

"Yes," I said.

"For behind!" she said.

"That was natural," I said, "as we were lying, as I was protecting you." "I was so surprised," she said.

"You were only a naA?ve free woman then," I said.

"But I was a free woman!" she said.

"True," I said.

"Yet you used me so, in spite of the fact that I was a free woman!" "Of course," I said.

"How could you dare to do so?" she asked.

"It was easy," I said.

"Undoubtedly," she said.

"Also you were convenient, in that position," I said.

"I see," she said.

I lay back, looking up at the stars. The sail was furled. We were using the current to proceed downstream. "I think you used me to relieve your tensions," she said.

"Oh?" I said.

"Yes," she said, chidingly, cuddling up to me. "I have heard men talking about such things. Some use their slave girls, before battle, to relieve their tensions. I think you used me merely to relax yourself before the door to the cell was opened."

"Merely?" I asked.

"Yes!" she pouted.

"Do not underestimate yourself," I said.

"Master!" she laughed, kissing me.

"On your stomach," I said.

She obeyed immediately, unquestionly. "I love being a slave," she said, "and serving!"

We heard a fellow stirring about, on the deck.

"It is my keeper," she said, clinging to me. "He will put me below, in the hold!"

"Yes," I said.

"Can you not keep me a little longer in your arms?" she asked, anxiously. "A moment longer," I said.

"Oh!" she said, softly.

Then I stood up, drawing my tunic about me.

She then half sat, half knelt, the chain depending from her collar, her head down.

I buckled the sword belt about me.

She looked up at me, reproachfully.

"Do you object?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said, quickly, kneeling. But her hands were on the chain depending from her collar. She drew on it a little. It was on her.

"How is she?" asked the fellow, coming up on us.

Immediately, before her keeper, she put her head down to the deck.

"Excellent," I said.

"Master," she said, timidly, not daring to raise her head, "may I speak?" "Yes," he said.

"Publia, slave, has told Claudia, slave, that we are to be put at the prow. May Claudia inquire of master if it be true?"

"It is true," he said. She raised her head a little, timidly. "May Claudia inquire how it is to be done?"

"We use a harness of chains and leather," he said. "The female is absolutely helpless, but is beautifully displayed."

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"I do not know hot to be displayed at the prow," she said.

"Do you not think the chains and leather will take care of that matter?" he asked.

"But I mean with respect to my own appearance," she said.

"You will be naked, of course," he said.

"Yes, Master," she said, in misery, teased.

The fellow laughed. "There are many different ways," he said. "Free captures are often encouraged to volubly bemoan their fate, to appear tragically sorrowful, to beg mercy and lenience, to cover their bodies with tears, and so on, as they are carried helplessly into bondage. This is amusing to the crowds at the piers. They are then marched through the streets, to the house of one slaver or another."

"Much depends," she said, "on who has contracted for captures in advance?" "Usually," he said.

"Seasoned slaves, on the other hand," he said, "usually appear pleased, even elated and joyful, and, if they do not appear so readily, they usually soon do so, once again encouraged. Sometimes the woman is required to appear proud, even contemptuous, for there are then fellows who will, so to speak, lie in wait for her at her sale, and bid high for her, hoping to bring her within the scope of their power, to get her, who was proud and contemptuous, into their collar. She will not remain proud and contemptuous for long. Other women are encouraged to appear terrified, or fearful. Fear in a woman is stimulating to a male and also to the female, making her more desperate to please, more eager to feel, more zealous to yield satisfactorily. These, and various other attitudes, may be required of women at the prow."

"And if they are not properly exhibited, or exhibited to the satisfaction of masters." She said, "then the women receive encouragement?" "Yes," he said.

"And may I inquire the nature of this encouragement?" she asked.

"The women at the prow," he said, "are suspended within reach of a slave whip." "I see," she said. The chain trembled, moving in the staple welded to the collar.

Usually, as far as I knew, the placing of women at the prow was not attended by such considerations. For example, when I had put women at my own prow, from time to time, I had usually let them behave or appear in any fashion they pleased. It was enough for me, and, I suppose, for them, that they were at the prow, displayed and helpless. Still, it was an intriguing idea, instructing them in the behavior they were to exhibit at the prow. In such a manner one might, rather as if decorating the ship in a certain way, say, with bunting and garlands, exercise more control over the impression one created in entering the harbor.

Too, of course, one might by such a device ready the crowds for bidding on a certain female, raise up her price, and so on. Certainly it was no secret that slavers, particularly in the more expensive houses, occasionally planned the sale of women in great detail, carefully regulating the order, arrangement, style, pacing and presentation of the goods, sometimes, in effect, even choreographing or staging the sale. But even without special attentions the behavior of women at prows varied considerably, from such things as free women hysterically writhing and screaming in their bonds to saucy slave girls exchanging quips with the crowd. Sometimes, indeed, a girl would single out a desirable male in the crowd and signal to him in no uncertain manner that she begs to wear his collar, and that she wants only the opportunity to become for him a dream of love and pleasure.

"And may Claudia inquire as to what behaviors may be required of herself and Publia?" she asked.

"I do not know what the captain will decide," he said. "I suppose that perhaps, as you are slaves, but new slaves, it might be required that you adopt an attitude of apprehensive ambiguity, of informed trepidation, of fearful uncertainty, as you have some concept of what it is to be a slave, and are being carried into a new bondage." "Yes, Master," she said.

I supposed that even the most seasoned of slave girls must have some apprehension every time she finds herself in a new bondage. After all, what does she know of her new master? Very little, except that she is completely his, and that he has total power over her.

"On your stomach, head down, over the ropes," said the fellow to Claudia. She turned about, instantly, an obedient slave. He then braceleted her hands behind her back. He then thrust the heavy key he carried into the lock at the back of her hinged collar, and dropped it to the side, near the ring, with the coil of chain, on the deck. He then looked at her, braceleted and helpless. I left them alone and went to the rail, on the starboard side, amidships. In a few Ihn he brought her to the hatch, holding her by the arm. She looked at me, and then lowered her eyes. He knelt her there and unfastened the lock on the hatch. He opened the hatch, unbraceleted her, and indicated that she should descend into the hold. She did so, carefully, holding to the sides of the ladderlike stairs. She looked at me once more. Then she descended and he swung the heavy wooden grating back in place and padlocked it shut.

After he had left I went and looked down through the grating, into the hold. By means of the moonlight I could see a reticulated pattern of light and shadows there, which fell across two girls, one Publia, sleeping, the other, Claudia, still standing, near the bottom of the ladderlike stairs, who looked up at me. Seeing my eyes on her, those of a free man, she knelt. I then turned away, and went toward the prow. There, standing on the tiny bow deck, I looked downriver. Tomorrow, in the afternoon, we were due to arrive at Port Cos.

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