"Of course!" agreed the Lady Leta.
"The beasts!" laughed the Lady Perimene.
The men laughed, and Melpomene reddened, totally.
The Lady Florence again turned to the musicians.
"Mistress," cried Melpomene, suddenly, in misery, "I do not know how to dance!"
"What!" cried the Lady Florence, as though in astonishment.
"I was a free woman," wept Melpomene. "I have been locked in a collar but this night. I know nothing of the lovely and sensuous dances of the female slave."
"Bring a slave,whip," said the Lady Florence to Pamela, who swiftly brought it to her, from where she had earlier cast it aside.
I saw Tenalion smile. To be sure, many of the dances of female slaves are lovely and sensuous; others, of course, are piteous and orgasmic. In all fairness, though, one must note that there is a large variety of slave dances on Gor, and that there is some variation from city to city. The institution of female slavery on Gor is doubtless thousands of years old; accordingly it is natural that there should be great complexity and refinement in such a delicious art form as slave dance. There are even, it might be mentioned, hate dances and rebellion dances, but most dances, as might be expected, are display dances, or need dances, or love and submission dances; even the hate and rebellion dances, of course, conclude, inevitably, with the ultimate surrender of the girl to her master as a love slave.
"I do not know how to dance, Mistress," whimpered Melpomene. "Please do not whip me."
The Lady Florence stood up.
"I will dance! I will dance!" cried the girl.
The Lady Florence sat down, smiling. "And as you dance, Melpomene," she said, "do not neglect to dance your beauty to the men, and dance it as the slut and slave you are."
"Yes, Mistress!" she wept.
The Lady Florence then signaled to the musicians. There was a swirl of music and a beating on the drum, and then a pause, and then began, with the czehar prominent, the strains of a slow Gorean melody. And Melpomene, the collared slave, danced, entertaining the guests of her Mistress, the Lady Florence of Vonda.
"It is natural in a woman," said Kenneth.
"I think so," I said.
Though doubtless Melpomene was untrained and lacked the thousand previsions and controls, the brilliancies and techniques, of the trained dancer, she was not unattractive on the tiles. She strove to please and dance well. I have little doubt but what the disposition to, and the fundamentals of, slave dance are instinctual in a woman. No other explanation seems compatible with the readiness with which they can acquire such dance. Many of the expressions, the gestures and movements of the body, of course, are clearly reminiscent of those of need and desire, of love and submission. I have little doubt but what these dispositions and talents have been naturally and sexually selected for in the course of evolution, such women being more often spared and sought.
The musicians now played more swiftly.
"Earlier, I suspect," said Kenneth, "she has danced so only in the privacy of her chambers, naked, before her mirror."
"Perhaps," I said.
"What a slave she is!" called the Lady Leta.
"It is for the men," laughed the Lady Florence.
"Surely I must avert my eyes!" laughed the Lady Leta.
"I, too!" laughed the Lady Perimene.
"Dance, you slut, dance!" cried the Lady Florence.
"Yes, Mistress!" wept Melpomene. "Yes, Mistress!"
Neither of the other two women, I noted, had averted their eyes.
"To the men!" ordered the Lady Florence. "To the men!"
Sobbing, the slave then danced her beauty to Brandon, a prefect of Vonda. He threw back his head, laughing at the humiliation wrought upon her, once a proud free woman. She spun from him and, crying, danced before Philebus, bounty creditor of Venna. He grinned and lifted before her eyes the bank draft, drawn on the bank of Reginald in Vonda, certified, and signed by the Lady Florence, for one thousand, four hundred and twenty tarns of gold. His trip had been quite successful, and he had now, too, the pleasure of seeing she who had been the elusive debtor now dancing as a naked slave before him. She then spun about and danced before Tenalion and Ronald, his man. She, a slave, I noted, danced most helplessly and lasciviously before them. They were strong men, and slavers. Too, Tenalion had put the collar on her.
"Continue to dance here," said Tenalion, indicating a place before his small table.
"Yes, Master," she said, commanded.
Then, as she danced before him, he took forth a small pad and, with a marking stick, jotted notes upon it. He was doubtless appraising her, and considering how she might be improved.
After a time, he said, "You may now dance elsewhere"
"Yes, Master," she said.
But a moment after this the Lady Florence stood up and signaled to the musicians to discontinue, for the time, the music.
Melpomene then, of course, knelt, head down, facing her Mistress.
"How do you like my little dancer?" she asked.
"Excellent, for a raw slave," said Tenalion. "Obviously she has slave fire in her belly."
"Do you hear that, Girl," said the Lady Florence to Melpomene, "you have slave fire in your belly."
"Yes, Mistress," said Melpomene, head down, shamed.
"I knew it!" said the Lady Florence.
"Yes, Mistress," said Melpomene, sobbing.
"How right that you wear a collar, Slave Girl," sneered the Lady Florence.
"Yes, Mistress," sobbed Melpomene.
The Lady Florence regarded her new female slave. "Have you been shamed sufficiently, Melpomene?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," said Melpomene.
"No, you have not been," said the Lady Florence. "It is no dishonor for you, a slave, to dance before free persons. Rather have I accorded you a privilege in permitting you to do so."
"Yes, Mistress," said Melpomene.
"Now I think that I shall truly shame you," she said.
"Mistress?" asked Melpomene.
"Now you shall dance," she said, "before a male slave!"
"Oh, no, Mistress," begged Melpomene, "please, please do not so shame me!"
The two women, the Lady Leta and the Lady Perimene, clapped their hands with pleasure. Brandon and Philebus laughed. Tenalion and Ronald, his man, smiled.
"Please, no, Mistress," begged Melpomene, extending her hands to her Mistress. She could not believe what was being done to her. There can be no greater degradation for a slave girl than to be made to serve a slave.
"Be silent, Girl," snapped the Lady Florence.
"Yes, Mistress," wept Melpomene.
"Kenneth!" called the Mistress. "Jason!"
"Precede me," said Kenneth, holding back the curtain.
"Yes, Master," I said.
I strode into the room. I was stripped to the waist. I wore the half tunic of a stable slave.
I heard the women, the Lady Leta and the Lady Perimene, draw in their breath.
"You!" breathed Melpomene, putting her hand before her mouth.
I stood a few feet from her, my arms folded. I looked down upon her. She seemed very small and vulnerable, so white, so soft, in a steel collar, kneeling on the tiles.
I looked to the men. We measured one another, as men do. I did not flinch before their gaze, though I was slave and they were free. I had stood against men such as Gort, of the stables of Miles, and Kaibar, of the stables of Shandu, in the pit of leather and blood… Brandon, a prefect of Vonda, and Philebus, the bounty creditor of Venna, seemed troubled. Inwardly I smiled. I could tear either of them to pieces, should it please me. I did not think Brandon would care to speak to me, unless he had guardsmen at his back. I did not think Philebus would care to pursue me for my debts. More respect I entertained for Tenalion and his cohort, he called Ronald. They were slavers. They would know the martial arts. They would be, secretly, armed. It was possible they could slay me before I could get my hands on them. Such men, though mostly they deal with collared wenches, must know the handling of the larger and more dangerous animals, the Kajiri. I saw that they did not fear me. They saw, too, however, that I did not fear them.