Cell H

originally posted April 12, 2006

Sub Level Six.
That is where the new acquisitions are kept. I learned about a grouping of girls kept in the lower levels of the House of Clark where the in-process of slaves takes place. There are sub levels lower than six, I have since found out but have learned that it is generally considered impolite to inquire what happens in sub levels seven through ten. I was interested, at any rate, to see the girls at sub level six.
Sub Level Six. Quadrant Three.
That is where a group of barbarians, Earth Girls, can be found. I escorted the slaves Elise and Samantha down into the bowels of the House of Clark to have a look at them. I learned about them from the Key Master of Quadrant Three at the supper tables. "Jabbering on and on. Who knows what they are going on about. Every so often I just douse 'em with the bucket," he told me. And also, "Just frigid, nonsense-spouting little urts. Sure, the potentiality is there but that is true with any woman." I did not disagree with him entirely. Any woman did have the potential to be a fantastic slave. To be honest, I did not come to own so many barbarians purposely. It just worked out that way. Fully half of my extended chain; Joy, Emily, She and Samantha, are of Earth origin. Two more, Portia and Six, wore the pelts of panthers in the Northern Forests. Only two of them originated in proper Gorean society. Nirah was born into the collar. Elise fell to it. I have heard the gossip that 'The Poet likes his meat raw' but I think that is nonsense, really. If pressed, I would say I like a girl cooked and juicy, simmered and tender from a slow, deliberate heat the best.
Sub Level Six. Quandrant Three. Cell H.
I wanted to see the barbarians the gruff Key Master spoke of, but truthfully I wanted Samantha to see them. I have never been at an In-Processing Center of a large Slaving House. I thought it might be interesting to see the animals fresh in their cages, but I wanted Samantha, most of all, to see them for herself. A little She-Urt turned Self-Serving Prostitute at the fringes of my world's finest city, Samantha was denied the traditional entry into her new life. When I first came to own her, by contracting her 'Owner', the Lady Jenny, into Companionship, she was sullen and mouthy. She was mishandled by the men in her life before me. I am guilty of coddling her a bit, favoring her over the other whores in the Boarding House, but that is my perogative. Most importantly, she has grown into more than a Barbarian Girl. She is the truest sort of Gorean Woman, a Collared Slave. "Homan Cell," the Key Master told me when I arrived in Quadrant Three. "Cell H."
Sub Level Six. Quadrant Three. Cell H.
I wondered what Samantha's response would be when she realized what milled about in Cell H. I thought I knew, but I wanted to see if my supposition was correct. Elise's reaction was precisely as one would expect from a Gorean Woman, particularly one that was once of High Caste. Thinly veiled disgust. A touch of pity. I thought, given the opportunity, she might enjoy smacking the taste out of one or more of the barbarians who were going on unintelligibly. Some cried. Others stood there, hands on hip, spouting off foolishly with an arrogant tone. One simply clutched the bars and shook her head in negation. While each of them was strictly speaking, going by things such as facial features, block measurements, hair color and skin tone, a beauty, none of them were beautiful. That was what I wanted to impress upon Samantha. That is what I wanted her to see. Samantha has always been 'impossibly pretty', but over the months I have owned her, she has become very beautiful as well. I wondered if she would identify herself with the self-loathing, denial-ridden wretches in the cages or if she would, as I expected, see just how far she has come since the 22nd Day of Hesius in the year 10,155 Contasta Ar.
Sub Level Six. Quadrant Three. Cell H.
My assumption was correct. Samantha seemed as willing as the Gorean-born Elise to smack sense into one or more of the frigid, protesting wenches of Earth. I told her to speak to them in their own tongue."Tell them they must learn the Language quickly if they wish to survive. Tell them they are slaves," I commanded her. "Speak to them, as well, as you would like."She had been holding the hand of the girl Elise, each one comforting the other. Native or Barbarian, no girl likes to confront the reality of such a place. The bowels of a Slaving House are full of ugly truths and a sort of filth no girl wishes to face. She slipped her hand from Elise's and approached the bars to speak to them in English. I wonder if she knew that her English was spoken with a decidedly , if faint, Gorean accent. I do not mean to suggest that she did not slip readily into her former language. She did. She simply hesitated a few times over certain phonemes that a Gorean speaker would have to approximate when speaking English. I smiled and informed the girl Elise, "That is my Samantha. She costs four copper per ahn."
Later, it occured to me that I had permitted Samantha to speak freely with the barbarians in Cell H of Quandrant Three on Sub Level Six. Perhaps it was prudent to make assurances.
I asked her, "You did not inform them of the secret depot where Earth Girls may go to be returned home, did you?"
"No Master," she said with a smile.