The handling & experiences of earth girls, barbarians, as new slaves on Gor

Confused
Frightened
Knows nothing of Gor
"Her story," I said, "is similar to those of many others. Abduction, transportation to Gor, slavery. She knows nothing. She scarcely understands, now, the meaning of her collar.
Tribesmen

It is difficult for me to conjecture what happened.
I did not know how long I was unconscious.
I know only that I awakened, stunned, bewildered, lying on my stomach, head turned to the side, on grass. My fingers tore down at the roots. I wanted to scream. But I did not move. The events of the August afternoon and night flashed through my memory. I shut my eyes. I must go back to sleep. I must awaken again, between the white satin sheets in my penthouse. But the pressing of fresh grass against my cheek told me I was no longer in the penthouse, in surroundings with which I was familiar.
I got up to my hands and knees.
I squinted toward the sun. Somehow it seemed not the same to me. I moved my hand. I pressed my foot against the earth.
I threw up with horror.
I knew I was no longer on my world, on the world I knew. It was another world, a different world, one I did not know, one strange to me.
Captive

This girl awoke in a field on Gor, found a caravan passing nearby
She does not speak gorean and does not understand them
She is immediately stripped, whipped, and put to work
Instantly I was stripped before him.
I screamed. The girls at the wagon tongue laughed.
"Kajira!" cried one of the men, pointing at my thigh.
Every inch of me blushed red.
"Kajira!" laughed Targo. "Kajira!" laughed the others. I heard the girls at the wagon tongue laughing, and clapping their hands.
Tears were running out of Targo’s eyes, tiny in the fat of his face.
Then, suddenly, he seemed angry.
He spoke again, sharply.
I was thrown forward on my face and stomach on the grass. The two men who had been holding my wrists continued to do so, but they held them apart and over my head, pressed down to the grass. Two other men came and held my ankles apart, they, too, pressed down to the grass.
"Lana!" cried Targo.
One of the other men went to the wagon tongue. I could not see what he did there. But I heard a girl laugh. In a moment she had left the wagon tongue and was standing somewhere behind me.

Then I was whipped.

The girl struck, with her small fierce strength, again and again, over and over, viscously, fiercely, as hard as she could, again and again. I cried out, and screamed and sobbed, and struggled. The handful of slender leather straps was merciless. I bit at the grass. I could not breathe. I could not see for tears. Again and again! "Please stop!" I cried. But then I could cry out no longer. There was only the grass and the tears and the pain of the straps, striking again and again.

I suppose the beating lasted normally for only a few seconds, surely not for more than a minute.
Targo said something to the girl, Lana, and the stinging rain of leather stopped.
The two men at my ankles released them. The two men who held my wrists pulled me up to my knees. I must have (pg. 54) been in shock. I could not focus my eyes. I heard the girls laughing at the wagon tongue. I threw up on the grass. The men pulled me away from where I had vomited and another, from behind, holding my hair, pushed my face down to the ground, to the clean grass, and, turning my head, wiped the vomit from my mouth and chin.
Then I was pulled again up and placed, on my knees, the men holding my wrists, before Targo.
She then, still not speaking gorean, is strapped into a harness with the other slaves and begins immediately the work of a slave, pulling the wagons and carts of the caravan under the lash of a whip
Captive

Taught with switches by other slaves
Expected to learn swiftly
I was pleased with how well, in the past months, Elizabeth had done with the language. Of course, Kamchak had rented three Turian girls, slaves, to train her; they had done so, binding her wrists and leading her about the wagons, teaching her the words for things, beating her with switches when she made mistakes; Elizabeth had learned quickly. She was an intelligent girl.
It had been hard for Elizabeth Cardwell, particularly the first weeks. It is not an easy transition to make, that from a bright, lovely young secretary in a pleasant, fluorescently lit, air-conditioned office on Madison Avenue in New to a slave girl in the wagon of Tuchuk warrior.
Nomads

I turned away from her and, following Samos, left the chamber. "She will have to learn Gorean, and quickly," said Samos, referring to the blondish girl.
"Let slaves, with switches, teach her," I said.
"I will," said Samos. There was no swifter way for an Earth girl to learn Gorean, providing that candies and pastries, and little favors, like a blanket in the pen, were mixed in. Learning was closely associated, even immediately, with reward and, punishment. Sometimes, months later, even when not under the switch, a girl would, upon a mistake in grammar or vocabulary, wince, as though expecting a fresh sting of the switch.
Goreans do not coddle their slave girls. This is one of the first lessons a girl learns.
Tribesmen

May be boarded with a Slave Master for training
"She does not speak Gorean," I told him.
He smiled. "She will learn swiftly," he said.
Then the officer and I discussed details of training. He would include in her training the regime of the stimulation cage. For the first five nights, following my recommendation, she would wear the rope harness. After that it would be used, if necessary, for discipline.
"Let her, however," I said, "meet the eyes of her trainer, and of other males. I do not wish her to become the love slave of the first man into whose eyes she is permitted to gaze."
"I understand," said the man.
"Is there anything else?" I asked.
"Do we have complete food and whip rights over her?" he asked.
"Certainly, "I said.
....
"These are the public pens of Tor. You are here for boarding and training. You will begin to learn Gorean. You will learn as a child learns, without the benefit of translation. You will learn swiftly. You will also he exercised and receive slave instruction."
"Slave instruction?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "Is this clear, Alyena?"
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"If you are uncooperative, or slow in your lessons, you may be starved or beaten--lashed--you understand?"
"Yes, Master," said the girl, her eyes wide.
I threw a silver tarsk to the official. He clapped his hands. Through a silver curtain, of silver strings, came a large, powerful slave girl. She wore a plain iron collar, with ring. She wore a halter of leather: she wore a belt of leather; two strips of leather girded her, falling to her knees: about her calves, crossing, leather straps bound heavy sandals on her feet. In her hand she carried a long supple kaiila quirt of leather, about a half inch in width and a yard long.
The large female slave feasted her eyes on the slender, lovely Alyena. Then she gestured with her quirt toward the threshold of silver strings. "Hurry, Pretty One," she said to Alyena, in Gorean, harshly.
Miserably, Alyena, understanding what was required of her, fled to the threshold.
There she turned to regard me. The quirt fell, viciously, across her shoulder. Crying out with pain, the lovely Alyena turned, and, weeping, stumbling, fled through the curtain of silver strings, to the pens of Tor.
Tribesmen

Another earth girl finds herself in Port Kar, in the House of Samos
"Return me to Earth," she said.
"Take her below to the pens," said Samos, "and sell her off."
"What did he say!" she demanded.
"Is she to be branded?" asked the guard.
"Yes," said Samos, "the common brand."
"What did he say!" she cried. Each of the two guards flanking her had now taken her by an arm. She looked very small between them. I thought the common Kajira mark would be exquisite in her thigh.
"Left thigh," I suggested.
"Yes, left thigh," said Samos to one of the guards. I liked the left-thigh branded girl. A right-handed master may caress it while he holds her in his left arm.
"Give me back my clothing!" she cried.
Samos glanced at the bundle of clothing. "Burn this," he said.
The girl watched, horrified, as one of the guardsmen took the clothing and, piece by piece, threw it into a wide copper bowl of burning coals. "No!" she cried. "No!"
The two guards then held her arms tightly and prepared in conduct her to the pens.
She looked with horror at the burnt remnants, the ashes, of her clothing.
She now wore only what Gorean men had given her, a scrap of slave livery, and a ring hammered about her neck.
She threw her head about, moving the ring. For the first time she seemed truly aware of it.
She looked at me, terrified. The guards' hands were on her upper arms. Their hands were tight.
"What are they going to do!" she cried.
"You are to be taken to the pens," I said.
"The pens!" she asked.
"There," I said, "you will be stripped and branded."
"Branded?" she said. I do not think she understood me. Her Earth mind would find this hard to understand. She was not yet cognizant of Gorean realities. She would learn them swiftly. No choice would be given her.
"Is she to be sold red-silk?" I asked Samos.
He looked at the girl. "Yes," he said. The guards grinned. It would be a girl who knew herself as a woman when she ascended the block.
....
"No!" she screamed. "No!"
"Then," I said, "you will be raped, and taught your womanhood. When you have learned your womanhood, you will be caged. Later you will be sold."
"No!" she cried. "No!"
"Take her away," said Samos.
The guards' hands tightened even more on the beauty's arms. She might as well have been bound in steel. She must go as they conducted her.
....
"What language is it here which they speak?" she asked.
I smiled.
"Gorean," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"And I must learn it quickly?" she said.
"Yes," I said. "You must learn it quickly, or be slain. Gorean men are not patient"
"-Gorean," she said.
"It is the language of your masters," I said.
"-Of my masters?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "Surely you know that you are a slave girl."
"No!" she cried. "No! No! No! No!"
"Take her away," said Samos.
The girl was dragged, screaming and sobbing, from our presence, to the pens.
....
We heard her screaming down the corridor, and then she cried out in pain, and was silent. The guards, wearied by her outcries, had simply cuffed her to silence. Sometimes a girl is permitted to scream. Sometimes she is not It depends on the will of the man. When she is branded a girl is commonly permitted to scream, at least for a time. But we would not hear that screaming, for, when it was done, she would be below, and far away, in the pens.
Beasts

Doreen, in Dancer, is brought to Gor and trained with other earth girls
) I screamed suddenly under it awakening under it startled not believing it not expecting it the suddenness it was like lightning the cracking sound like the sky breaking the snap like fire my body wrenching I pulling upwards the chain on my neck I fell to my side I pulled at the chain then the snap again no no please no so sharp so loud the fire the pain I screamed I was naked the chain cut my neck "Kneel," he snarled, "head to the floor," I sobbing obeyed.
"So," said he, "the modern woman under the whip."
....
"Look up," he said. "Kneel, kneel straightly. Put your hands on your thighs. Head up. Split your knees. More widely, slut!"
I obeyed.
I was then kneeling before him, straightly, my head up, my hands on my thighs, my knees widely spread, the chain from my collar dangling down before me, between my breasts, I could feel it on my body, and going back, between my knees, to a ring. I was terrified. I thought I must be mad. My body was in pain. There seemed something different here. The air was different, a thousand times, it seemed, cleaner and fresher. I had never known such air existed to be breathed. It made me feel somehow charged and alive. The whip seemed still, hot and terrible, to burn on my body.
....
"Where am I?" I begged.
"On my world," he said, simply.
....
"Your life is going to be different now," he said, "quite different, dramatically different in a number of ways."
"Your world?" I begged.
"Yes," he said.
"Another planet?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
....
I dared not meet his eyes directly. I saw the whip in his hand. Men on this world, I suspected, were not patient with women, or at least women such as I.
"What is to be done with me, on this world?" I asked.
"You are not wearing clothes," he said, as though he might be just noticing this.
"No," I said.
"You are chained by the neck," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"I think it must be obvious," he said.
I shuddered. I wondered what it might be like, to be a female on a world like this, or the sort of female I was, on a world like this, where, unlike Earth, men had not been weakened.
"You are afraid, aren’t you, slut?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Good," he said. "That is as it should be. And you have every right to be afraid, I assure you, even, indeed, far more afraid than you can even begin to understand now."
....
I could understand him. To be sure, my grasp of this language still left much to be desired. There were still many words, even common words, I did not know, and sometimes I could not follow even elementary constructions. I think, however, all things considered, that it could not be gainsaid that my progress in it had been remarkable. I was the quickest of my Earth sisters in this respect.
....
We had learned that not only the quality and nature of our life on this world, but perhaps our very survival, could be contingent on our success in understanding and speaking this language. Too, we were often accorded private instructresses. These girls, though collared, and doubtless branded, as we were, wore brief tunics, which put them immeasurably above us. How we envied them! Too, they carried long, supple leather quirts. These they used on us when not satisfied with our responses, or progress. I had been quirted, but not often. My usual instructress was "Tina," the name which she had been given on this world. I do not know what her original name had been. she had once been from Pittsburgh. I think she was a good instructress, and she had helped me much. A part of my success, I am sure, was due to her. She was supposed to be one of the best instructresses. They had assigned her to me. She was exacting. More than once I had felt her quirt. The instructresses, of course, had their own report lines. If their charges did not do well they, themselves, were held responsible. I recalled seeing one of the instructresses stripped and whipped because the skill levels of her charge were judged insufficient. After that, for better than a week, she was permitted only a half tunic. She began, then, to use two hands on her quirt. Almost immediately her pupil improved her performances considerably.
Dancer