The Deserted Parking Lot

Joey nodded. His mistress' statement helped confirm his speculation that he'd been taken for domestic work- although it also made him wonder just what and how far domestic slaves could be used for.

"Be pleasing?" What does that exactly mean? What does she want me to do?

"Very good. For now, I'll excuse you to go clean up that mess from last night."

Joey got up and finished cleaning up what little mess remained. He had gotten a lot of the broken pot picked up before his mistress had grabbed him and thrown him around the house, so all that was left was to sweep up the small pieces. Then he had to finish putting the dishes away, which wasn't too hard.

After he finished cleaning, Mistress taught him about some of her clothes, what they were called and how they were worn. One of his duties would be aiding dressing her.

As he helped his mistress, he noticed that many of the clothes- but not all- had striking similarities to those worn in moslem nations. Not the particularly hardcore ones, but the similarities were there.

After some thought, he finally asked, "From the looks of these clothes, is modesty a serious issue here? None of these look like they'd bare much skin or try to attract a man's attention."

He paused, and thought a second more before saying, "But if you can buy the man you want, I guess that it isn't necessary, is it?"

She shot him a dirty look. "Curiosity is unbecoming in a slave." She was silent a few seconds to let him stew in his shame before softening her face and answering his quesiton. After all, he would need to understand Gor to understand his place.

"First of all, free women do not want that kind of attention from men. We are vibrant, vital, intellegent, hard-working people and want companions who appreciate us on those merits. Second, a free woman is greatly respected and protected in her own city, but to outsiders she is a target. These clothes aid in protecting her from being abducted since the abductor can't see what his target looks like. He won't know if the risk is worth the pay-off."

Joey nodded. "There's some cultures on Earth very much like that," he said, "although in some cases the free women are targets outside their own houses. It seemed like there were similarities..."

She specified free women, he thought, Dollars to donuts there's female slaves too. Which begs the question about how those women came to be slaves in the first place. No wonder the women are built like gorillas, if they have to fight off men to stay free? For a moment Joey visualized women and men smacking each other down in (literal) winner-take-all street fights. Then he tried to forget about it.

Joey was still blushing a little for being told off, though. It reminded him of how new he was to this culture. He figured he'd earn many more whippings before he got everything right...

She patted his head. "I know you mean well."

"The way I taught you to kneel. From now on I'm just going to call it Position. I'm also going to teach you some other positions."

Joey nodded. He was ready- or at least he thought he was.

"This is bara. Lie on your stomach, head to the left, yes? Cross your wrists, left over right, and your ankles, the same. Easy, isn't it?"

Joey lay down in the specified position. "It feels like I'm going to be tied up," he said, then gulped and blushed. She probably didn't want his comments.

"Yes, this is sometimes called the standard binding position. All right, next is sula. Hands at your sides, palms up, legs spread. I find this one vulgar."

He assumed the specified position, and this time blushed without saying anything. Certain parts of himself were exposed, and reacted in a way he didn't expect... or want at that moment.

She laughed a bit because of his embarrassment. "I did say I find this one vulgar! Bara! Sula! Bara!" She called out. When he made a mistake or was too slow, she struck him with a crop. Just enough to shock him, but not so much that it hurt.

Joey squealed each time she struck him. It took him a while to get everything right every time, but he did eventually.

The boy was finally able to transition seamlessly from one to the next. Time to let him rest a bit. "Position," she said. He seemed eager to please.

Joey breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally allowed to go back into the rest position. This can't be all of them, but at least she's giving me a chance to learn them a few at a time instead of all at once.

Mistress circled the boy, inspecting him, this time just to make him nervous. "Your name from Earth, it was Joey, was it not?" She gazed intensely into his eyes, again, just to make him nervous. "You are not that person anymore. I strip you of that name! I shall call you..." She thought a moment, then started laughing. "I shall call you Joey!" She threw her arms up in mock celebration. "Joey is dead! From today on your are Joey!"

Joey thought for a moment then smiled. "Won't have any problems remembering it, either," he said.

Mistress laughed more. "They may sound alike but you will find they are not the same. This is the name I have given you, and I can take it from you just as easily. Carry it proudly and treat it as you would any other posession I have entrusted to you."

Joey blinked.

"Ok," he said after a few seconds, "I understand that I'm supposed to take really good care of anything you give me, but..." he paused, "Oh crap. I'm not supposed to be asking questions..."

Mistress laughed more every time he spoke. "It's figurative, my boy! It's also a lesson, but one you have to figure out for yourself."

Joey nodded.

Kinda glad she didn't decide to give me a really stupid name, he thought, This place is getting freakier by the minute.

She spent most of the next ahn teaching him commands and quizzing him, then excused him for some "personal time." In truth, she wanted to see if he was productive when left alone.