| Slave Prices | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 17 2017, 11:36 AM (2 Views) | |
| Khaleesa | Apr 17 2017, 11:36 AM Post #1 |
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Nela had been a slave since the age of fourteen. To my surprise she was a native of Ar. She had lived alone with her father, who had gambled heavily on the races. He had died and to satisfy his debts, no others coming forth to resolve them, the daughter, as Gorean law commonly prescribes, became state property; she was then, following the law, put up for sale at public auction; the proceeds of her sale were used, again following the mandate of the law, to liquidate as equitable as possible the unsatisfied claims of creditors. She had first been sold for eight silver tarsks to a keeper of one of the public kitchens in a cylinder, a former creditor of her father, who had in mind making a profit on her; she worked in the kitchen for a year as a pot girl, sleeping on straw and chained at night, and then, as her body more adequately developed the contours of womanhood, her master braceleted her and took her to the Capacian Baths where, after some haggling, he received a price of four gold pieces and a silver tarsk; she had begun in one of the vast cement pools as a copper-tarn-disk girl and had, four years later, become a silver-tarsk girl in the Pool of Blue Flowers. Assassin of Gor Then the auctioneer briefly and expertly displayed the girl, with deft touches of the wandlike slave goad, and began, simultaneously, to raise the first block calls. “Verbina, she is,” called he, “who so fears a man that she would flee him, at the risk of death and torture, White Silk and never before owned, yet certified ready for the chain of a master who would use her as she so richly deserves!” The crowd roared with amusement, enjoying the sport of the auctioneer. The first bid was some four gold pieces, which was good, and suggested that the night might go well. Prices of girls vary considerably with her caste, the supply of her general type and the trends of the market. A girl in the Curulean is seldom sold for less than two gold pieces. This is largely, doubtless, because the Curulean refuses to accept women for sale who are not genuinely attractive. In a rather brief amount of time Verbina was auctioned to a young Warrior for seven gold pieces. An extremely good price, under relatively normal market conditions, for a truly beautiful woman of High Caste tends to be about thirty pieces of gold, though some go as high as forty, and fifty is not unknown; these prices, for women of low caste, may be approximately halved. Assssin of Gor To the amusement of the crowd it took the whip slave, and two others, to strip the biting, scratching forest beauties. The pair was eventually sold to a collector for ten gold pieces; I trust the security of his Pleasure Gardens is superb, else he might waken to a knife at his throat and the demand for a tarn, and, perhaps eventually, in the rags of a slave, a seat on the bench of a cargo galley. Assassin of Gor The third lot was a High Caste girl of Cos who stood before us clad in the complete robes of Concealment, which, piece by piece, were removed from her. She was beautiful, and had been free; she was not trained; she was of the Scribes, and had been picked up by pirates from Port Kar. She did nothing to move the buyers but stood, head down, numb on the block until she was completely revealed. Her movements were wooden. The crowd was not pleased. There was only a two gold piece bid. Then taking the whip from the whip slave the auctioneer stepped to the disconsolate girl; suddenly, without warning, he administered to her the Slaver’s caress, and her response was utterly and uncontrollably, wild, helpless. She regarded him with horror. The crowd howled with delight. Suddenly she threw herself, screaming hysterically, on the auctioneer, but he cuffed her to one side and she fell to her knees weeping. She was sold for twenty-five gold pieces. Assassin of Gor “Come now, brothers and sisters of Glorious Ar, citizens and gentle buyers of Glorious Ar, and friends of Ar and hers, what am I offered for these three barbarians?” There was a bid of three gold pieces from the auditorium, probably intended to do little moe than initiate the bidding. “I hear three,” called the auctioneer, “do I hear four?” As he said this, he moved to one of the girls and threw back her hood. It was Virginia. Her head was back, and she looked disdainful. She wore the cosmetics of a Pleasure Slave, applied exquisitely. Her hair, glistening, fell to her shoulders. Her lips were red with slave rouge. “Eight gold pieces!” I heard cry from the crowd. “What of ten?” asked the auctioneer. “Ten!” I heard cry. The auctioneer then threw back the hood of the second girl, Phyllis. She seemed coldly furious. The crowd gasped. The cosmetics enhanced and heightened the drama of her great natural beauty, but with an insolent and deliberate coarseness that was a gauntlet thrown before the blood of men. “Twenty gold pieces!” I heard cry. “Twenty-five!” I heard from another area. Phyllis tossed her head and looked away, over the heads of the crowd, nothing but contempt on her face. “What of thirty?” called the auctioneer. “Forty!” I heard cry. Assassin of Gor The auctioneer thrust his hand beneath the hood and, with his fist in her hair, drew her to her knees before the buyers. Then he brushed back her hood. The light over the block took the glint of the tiny, fine nose ring in the nose of Elizabeth Cardwell. The crowd gasped. How startling, and incredibly beautiful she was! She seemed fine and savage, as vital and dangerous and beautiful as the she-larl. She was a woman who could well have stood among the most marvelous of Gor. She wore the cosmetics of the slave girl. There was silence. It was a tribute in its way, the honoring by way of awe, this magnificent captive female, to be sold. The silence was broken by a bid. “One hundred gold pieces,” spoken by a Slaver who wore the insignia of Tor, some feet from the box of Cernus. “A hundred and twenty,” said another, soberly, matter of factly, this man, too, a professional Slaver, he wearing on his left shoulder the sign of Tyros. The three girls then stood rather together, Elizabeth somewhat forward, the other two a bit behind and flanking her; then they were led on their chains again about the block. The bids increased to a hundred and forty gold pieces. Then the girls were spaced on the block, Elizabeth toward the front and middle, and Virginia and Phyllis on alternate sides. The chains were then removed from their slave bracelets and the three whip slaves retired. The auctioneer then, with his key, removed the left slave bracelet from the wrist of each, permitting it to dangle from the right wrist. He then removed the black cloak from Virginia, who stood before us in the brief, sleeveless yellow livery, slashed to the belt, of a slave girl. There were cries of approval. He then drew the cloak from Phyllis, who was attired as was Virginia. The crowd cried out with enthusiasm. He then went to Elizabeth and removed her cloak also. The crowd roared with pleasure. Elizabeth had been clad in the brief leather of a Tuchuk wagon girl, simple, rough, sleeveless, the short skirt on the left side slit to the belt, so that the saddle of the kaiila, mount of the Wagon Peoples, would be permitted her. “Two hundred gold pieces,” said a merchant from Cos. “Two hundred and fifteen,” called out a high officer in the cavalry of Ar. Again the girls were commanded to walk about the block, and they did so, proudly, irritably, as though wishing to express only contempt for what they seemed to regard as the rabble about them. When they had finished, Virginia now stood toward the center, with Phyllis behind her and to her left, and Elizabeth behind her and to her right. The three whip slaves then again climbed to the block. But this time the bids had increased to two hundred and forty. There were some cries of protest, perhaps from less-affluent bidders, that the girls were not of High Caste. The auctioneer then motioned to the whip slave who stood behind Virginia. He drew her left wrist behind her back and snapped it into the slave bracelet, thus confining both wrists behind her. Then he, pulling at the shoulders of her livery, jerked it down to her waist. This pleased the crowd. There was a bid of two hundred and fifty then for the lot. The auctioneer then signaled the whip slaves and the girls rotated their position, bringing Phyllis to the front of the block. There, she, like Virginia, was similarly secured and revealed. The bids increased to two hundred and seventy-five gold pieces. Then the girls rotated again and this time Elizabeth stood at the center of the block. “It appears,” said the auctioneer, “that this was once a wench of Tuchuks.” The crowd grunted its approval. The Tuchuks, one of the distant Wagon Peoples, tend to be, to those of northern Gor, a people of mystery and intrigue; to those of the southern plains, of course, they tend to be little more than efficient, fierce and dreaded foes. “Can you guess,” asked the auctioneer, “which of the three slaves is Red Silk?” The crowd roared with amusement. “Doubtless,” called the auctioneer, “her Tuchuk master used her well.” The crowd laughed. At this point, savagely, Elizabeth spat into the face of the auctioneer. The crowd screamed with amusement, but the auctioneer did not seem much pleased. Angrily, he motioned back the whip slave, who stood behind the girl, and then he himself threw her hands cruelly behind her back and snapped shut the slave bracelets, thus himself confining her. “You have pleased ignorant herders,” he said. “Now, we shall see if you can please the men of Ar.” So saying, he himself stripped her to the waist before the crowd. Elizabeth was beautiful. The placement of her wrists, of course, like that of the other girls was not accident. It is done so that there be no impediment to the vision of the buyers. I found I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss the slave rouge from her mouth. I suppose my response were not much different from those of other men in the crowd. “Three hundred gold pieces!” called a rich man of Ar. The crowd shouted its approval of the bid. “Three hundred and five,” said the professional Slaver from Tor. “Three hundred and ten!” announced the Slaver who wore upon his shoulder the sign of Tyros. Assassin of Gor Laughter greeted her, and she, too, laughed. “Yes, cheap they are!” she laughed. She turned about and went to Virginia. “Here,” said she, tauntingly, “is a slim beauty, lithe and swift, White Silk, intelligent, curious for the touch of a man, who for the right man would be the most abject and servile wench a beast could wish. Imagine her, noble men of Ar, chained to your slave ring! She alone is worth five hundred pieces of gold!” Assassin of Gor ...some of the plainer women are sold for as little as a brass cup; Nomads of Gor "I will get at least four tarsks for you," said the Lady Tima. I assumed she meant four tarsks of silver. Fighting Slave of Gor For that reason he paid fifteen tarsks for me, fifteen silver tarsks." Kajira of Gor "Two silver tarsks," he said, "and fifty copper tarsks, not tarsk bits, but tarsks, whole tarsks." Dancer of Gor Too, they had paid five tarsks for me, silver tarsks. Dancer of Gor |
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1:22 AM Jul 11