Savages of Gor

13 Blankets and Bonds; I Do a Favor for Grunt

I lay on one elbow.

When she reached my vicinity she knelt down, in the brief brown slave tunic.

She trembled. She did not speak.

I regarded her for a time. Her head was down.

I then lay back on my blankets, on the grass. I put my hands under the back ofmy head, on the folded saddle blanket beneath my head. The kaiila saddle and thekaiila quirt lay to one side. I looked up at the stars, and the three moons ofGor. It is difficult to convey the majesty of a Gorean night in the Barrens,because of the vastness of the sky and the depth of the blackness, and thecontrasting brightness of the stars. The large extents of wilderness on thesurface of Gor and the absence of large-scale artificial illuminations, ofcourse, permit starlit nights, almost anywhere, to manifest themselves with asplendor that would be almost breath-taking to one accustomed to the drab,half-gray, polluted, semi — illuminated, dim, nocturnal atmospheres of Earth. Inthe Barrens, however, and in places such as the Tahari, probably because of therelative levelness of the terrain, horizon-to-horizon, these effects seem evenmore accentuated, even more stupendous, more spectacular, more unbelievable andastounding.

I did not speak to the girl. I did not wish to hurry her. I let her continue tokneel there in the grass, a few feet from me.

I heard one of the kaiila moving about on its tether, biting at the grass,pawing the turf.

I continued to regard the stars.

"Master," she said.

"Yes," I said. She had spoken in Gorean.

"I have been sent to your blankets," she said.

I rose on one elbow, to regard her. Her lower lip trembled. She looked verylovely, in the brief brown slave tunic. Her throat was bare, having beenreleased from the collar in the come.

"I have been sent to your blankets," she whispered.

"I understand," I said.

She tried, with her small fists, to pull together the sides of the tunic, toprotect, as she could, the rounded, interior contours of her softness from thegarment's apparently thoughtless disclosure. I smiled. Did she not know it was aslave's garment? Did she not understand the statement that was made by thatdeep, V-shaped, plunging division in the tunic, terminating only at her belly,that the woman who ware it was owned by men, that she was a slave?

At a gesture from me she removed her hands from the sides of the garment andplaced them on her thighs.

She then knelt there in the grass, and I looked at her.

She put her head down, not meeting my eyes. She, a new slave, was not yet usedto being looked at, truly looked at, as a woman, by a Gorean master.

I continued to regard her.

I found her reserve charming.

She lifted her head, frightened.

At as little as a snapping of my fingers, she must strip herself and hurrynaked, licking and kissing, to my arms.

It is pleasant to own women.

"I do not know what to do, or what to say," she moaned, to herself, in English.

We had now been five nights in the Barrens. This woman, and the others, tutoredby Ginger and Evelyn, had now picked up a smattering of Gorean. I was pleasedwith her progress in the language, and it seemed to me the best of her chainedpeers. Yet it was still, of course, piteously limited. The phrase which she hadrepeated more than once, "I have been sent to your blanket," for example, hadnot been spoken as a slave girl in full cognizance of its meaning, humbly makingit clear that her nearness to the male was not illicit, and begging him toconsider her for his pleasure-use, but rather as though it might have beenspoken by rote, merely a set of words committed to memory, and as though she wasdesperate not to forget it or mispronounce it. She had doubtless learned thephrase by repetition, from Ginger or Evelyn. Still, doubtless, they would alsohave taught her its meaning, or at least as much of its meaning as could beabsorbed by a raw Earth slave in her present stage of training. She doubtlessthus understood its meaning, but did not, presumably, understand it in its fullmeaning, as what it might mean, fully, to present herself as a Gorean slave girlfor the pleasure of a master.

"I cannot even speak your language," she said, miserably in English. "I amstupid. I cannot remember anything. It is all gone from me!"

I saw that in her terror the little Gorean that she knew had eluded her.

"Forgive me, Master," she then said, suddenly, in Gorean. "Forgive me, Master.

Forgive me, Master."

I was pleased to, see that she could remember at least that much Gorean.

She put her head down, trembling.

I saw that I would not be able, at least for the time, to communicate with herin Gorean. Obviously the Gorean she knew was largely unavailable to her now andit was, moreover, extremely limited anyway in her current stage of linguisticdevelopment.

"Forgive me, Master," she wept, in Gorean.

I smiled. That simple phrase had doubtless on many occasions, though not always,saved many stripped, collared slaves from fearful punishments.

Her shoulders shook. Her head was down.

It is not necessary, of course, to be able to communicate verbally with a womanto teach her that she is a slave. Women are highly intelligent. They quicklyunderstand such as the chain and the whip. Indeed, much may be done with meansso simple even as the stroke of a hand, the twisting of an arm, the manner inwhich her body is penetrated. Yes, she can learn much, even before she haslearned to speak your language.

I considered the girl kneeling in the grass, trembling. I glanced to the nearbykaiila saddle, and the quirt. I could always strip her and throw her on herbelly or back over the polished leather of the saddle. I might then, with theaid of the quirt, and caressing her, begin to induce in her some modicum ofunderstanding concerning her condition.

"I have been sent to your blankets, Master," whispered the girl, in Gorean,lifting her head.

She was not yet ready for the saddle and the quirt, I saw. Yet, if I assessedher correctly, I thought, it would not be long. She was good slave stuff.

I beckoned to her, gently.

Timidly the girl, on her hands and knees, crawled to me through the grass. Ithen took her in my arms and, gently, put her to her back beside me. She wastense. She made as though to lift her lips to me, timidly, but I put my handover her mouth. She looked up at me, frightened. My band was tight over hermouth. She was held motionless. She could not begin to speak.

"I speak your language," I said to her, very quietly. Her eyes widened. I hadspoken in English. I did not let her speak. "This is not particularlyimportant," I said, "but you are not, without my permission, to speak of it toanyone. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, as she could, my hand tight over her mouth. I then removedmy hand from her mouth.

"You speak English," she said, wonderingly.

"Yes," I said.

"Is it your intention to rescue me, and the other girls?" she whispered. "Oh!" she said. Her head was forced back, my hand under her chin, my fingers tight atthe sides of her jaw.

"Where is your collar?" I asked.

"In the coffle," she said. In the coffle, what?" I asked.

"In the coffle Master!" she said.

"What are you?" I asked.

"I am informed I am a slave," she said, my hand tight under her chin. "Oh!" shesaid, her head forced farther back, my grip tightened.

"What are you?" I asked.

"A slave!" she said, tensely. "I am a slave, Master! ' "Do you think, now," I asked, "that you are to be rescued?"

"No, Master," she said. "No, Master! ' "There is no rescue for you," I said, "nor for the other on your chain."

"No, Master," she said. "We are slaves."

"Does it disturb you to speak of your slavery in your native language?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

I looked down into her eyes. She averted her gaze. "Why did you think I mightconsider rescuing you?" I asked.

"Were you not once of Earth?" she asked.

"Once," I said.

"Surely then," she said, "You must be sensitive to our plight, imbonded women ofEarth."

"Women of Earth have often been imbonded," I said. "Bondage is no novelty forthe Earth female. Her fittingness for the collar has long been recognized. OnEarth at this very moment many women are held in public bondage, and manyothers, it is difficult to conjecture their number, serve in secret bondages.

Too, throughout the course of human history, in the past, as well as today, manywomen have found themselves enslaved. Your predicament, or plight, if youplease, is thus far from unique. You, and those with you, are merely anotherhandful of slaves, imbonded females, merely new and fresh instances of ahistorically familiar commodity.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I removed my hand from her throat and face. She gasped, fearfully, but did notstir from my side. Her breasts heaved, under the thin rep-cloth of the slavetunic.

"You may now begin again," I said. "Return to your original position. You mayspeak in English."

"Yes, Master," she whispered. Fearfully she then crept from my side. In a momentshe knelt as she had before, a few feet from me, in the grass" Master," she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"I am a slave girl," she said. "I have been sent to your blankets."

"Excellent," I said. "You are a pretty slave.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

"Approach, Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said, and, on her hands and knees, crawled to my side.

I then took her in my arms and, as I had before, put her to her back, beside me.

"I am a virgin," she said.

"I know," I said. "The results of your body's testing, shortly after yourpurchase, were made known to me by Grunt, your master."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Such information is public among Masters," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I held the cloth of the slave tunic, moving it between my fingers. "This isthin, flimsy cloth," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"It reveals you well," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And you have pretty legs," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

"You are tense," I said.

"Forgive me, Master," she said.

"Do you know what is to be done to you tonight?" I asked.

"I am to be deflowered," she said.

"That is a ridiculous expression," I said. "It is absurd. Rather, you are to beopened, an act which, in the case of a slave, is in the interest of all men."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"This is unlikely to be painful," I said, "but, if it is, the pain will bebrief, and the soreness will be temporary."

"I understand," she said.

"If you should prove unusual in some respect, although this is extremely rare,"

I said, "we can, tomorrow, grind one of Grunts trading knives into a lancet."

"I understand," she shuddered. This seemed to me better than leaving the matterto the red savages. They tend to be impatient in such respects, even with theirown women. A homemade lancet, sterilized in boiling water, seemed to mepreferable to a sharpened kailiauk bone or a whittled lodge peg.

"But your penetration is, obviously," I said, "only a mere technicality."

"Obviously," she said, I thought a bit ironically.

"But," I said, "beyond that incidental triviality, do you understand why youhave been sent to my blankets, what the purpose is from your point of view, whatis the purpose on which you are to be intent?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"I am to please you with my body," she said.

"You do not understand," I said.

"Master?" she asked.

"That is far too limited," I said. "You are to please me with the wholeness ofyour womanhood, in the fullness of your slavery."

"The Gorean master, then," she said, "would desire, and own, all of me."

"Yes," I said.

"I had hoped it might be so," she whispered.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, Master," she whispered.

"It is only on your former world, if anywhere," I said, "that a man isinterested only in a woman's body. "Yes, Master," she said.

"And I doubt that," I said, "even on that muchly perverted dismal orb."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"To be sure," I said, "the bodies of women are not without interest, and theylook well in slave chains."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But you must understand that what wears the chains, so curvaceous, beautifuland helpless, is the whole woman."

"I understand, Master," she said.

"You do not have a name yet, do you?" I asked.

"No," she said. "My master has not yet named me."

"What was your former name?" I asked.

"Millicent Aubrey-Welles," she said. "Oh!" she said. "Your hand!"

"Do you objects?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I am only a slave. I may not object."

"That is an unusual name," I said. My hand rested, softly, on her left thigh.

"Such names are not unusual in the social stratum which once was mine," shesaid.

"I see," I said.

"My family is from the upper classes, the very upper classes, of my world."

"I see," I said.

"I now lie beside you in a slave tunic," she said. "But I am an upper-classgirl, a very upper-class girl. You must understand that."

"Once you were," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You are now only a nameless slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I smiled.

"I was a debutante," she said.

"I understand," I said.

"We are used to consolidate family alliances," she said, and are given asawards, in matings to energetic young men, often rising in our fathers' companies."

"A form of slavery," I said, "but without the honesty of the collar."

"Yes," she said, bitterly.

"Women have often been used for such purposes," I said.

"My aunt told me that it was all that I was good for," she said.

"Your aunt was mistaken," I said.

She gasped. My hand moved higher on her thigh.

She controlled her breath. My hand, now, was again still.

"We, of course," she said, "would be permitted our clubs, our activities, ourparties, our affairs."

"Yes," I said.

"But it would be a meaningless existence," she said, "meaningless." "Oh!" shesaid.

My fingers now rested on her brand. "What is this?" I asked.

"My brand." she said.

"You must be a slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Your existence on Gor," I said, "you will find far from meaningless. You willfind it quite meaningful, I assure you."

She shuddered.

"It is rather something else which you will find is meaningless on Gor," I said.

"What, Master?" she asked.

"You, yourself," I said.

"Me?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "for you will be only an article of property, a meaningless,purchasable trinket, a worthless bauble, an owned woman, a slave."

She looked at me with horror.

"Surely you are aware that you may be purchased or sold, or bartered, or givenaway, or commanded, as men please, that you are naught but an imbonded woman, atotally meaningless slave?"

"Yes, Master," she moaned.

"Did you wear a white gown, of ankle length, when you were presented as adebutante?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

My hand was now tight upon her brand. "Say," I said, "I am now naught but abranded slave on Gor."

"I am now naught but a branded slave on Gor," said the girl.

I moved my hand upward, to her hip, and to the sweetness of her waist at thehip.

"Your hand is high beneath my tunic, Master," said the girl "Do you object?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said. "I am a slave. I may not object,"

"The clothing in which you were exhibited to the buyers," I said, "which wasremoved for their interest, in your sale, did not seem to me the clothing of adebutante. It seemed to me rather the clothing of a girl, and a certain sort ofgirl, who works in an office."

"I wished to avoid the imminent and obvious fate of the debutante," she said,"to be bartered, for position and power on the marriage market."

"This was the occasion, doubtless, in which your aunt expressed her view thatsuch, in effect, was all you were good for."

"Yes!" she said. "Oh!" she said.

"You have lovely curves," I said.

"Are you warming me for my taking?" she asked.

"They would bring a high price," I said.

She moaned.

"Your aunt," I said, "surely had a very limited conception of your utilities. Itprobably never even entered her ken, for example, that you might one day be ascantily clad, branded slave."

"Master?" asked the girl.

"On the other hand," I said, "she knew you very well, and, in some way, may havebeen touching on something of importance."

"I do not understand," said the girl.

"I do not mean to insult you, a girl from Earth," I said, "but you an obviouslyextremely feminine. You have, doubtless, a large number of female hormones inyour body."

"Master?" she asked.

"Your aunt was then, perhaps, trying to convey to you that your most congenialand appropriate destiny, what might be best for you, what might be most naturalfor you, would be for you to find yourself naked in the arms of a man."

"As little more than a slaver she asked.

"As perhaps no more than a slave," I said.

"I cannot help it that I have a feminine face, that I have feminine body," shesaid. "I cannot help it that I am feminine nine" Why would you want to help it?" I asked.

"It is wrong to be feminine!" she said.

"That is obviously false," I said. "What is your next point?"

"I know that I am feminine," she wept. "I have known for years, from my desiresand feelings, even from before the interior truths of my reality manifestedthemselves so unmistakably, so unrepudiably, in my body, shaping and curving mefor the destiny of the female, and for the lustful, appraising eyes of men."

I regarded her, not speaking.

"I am afraid to be feminine!" she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because," she wept, "I sense that it is, ultimately, to be the slave of men."

"You desired to prove your aunt wrong," I said.

"Yes," she said. "I would prove that I was independent, that I was capable, thatI could achieve success on my own. My talents would be obvious. I would be hiredpromptly. I would be rapidly advanced. I would become a female executive. Thatwould show my aunt! That would show myself! That would show men!"

"What happened?" I asked.

"I took money and left home," she said. "I scarcely informed my family as to mydecision or whereabouts. I went to a great city. It is called New York. I rentedexpensive quarters. Confidently, I sought a significant position business."

"And then?" I asked.

"Alas," she said, ruefully, "I found my credentials sorely lacking. I could findno work of the sort in which I was interested.»

"I see," I said.

"After weeks of misery and frustration," she said, "I contacted my family. Aposition was immediately arranged for me.

"I see," I said.

"It was not, however, at all, what I had hoped for," she said. "I became, ineffect, the secretary to a female executive, her "girl' in the office. She tookcharge of me and, in effect, prescribed my mode of dress and behavior."

"It was largely due to her, then," I said, "that you wore the attractivegarments you did, when you were stripped for the buyers at the house of RamSeibar?"

"Yes," she said, "and she even prescribed that the pearls I wore must besynthetic, as being more befitting than real pearls a girl in my position."

"I see," I said. "Did you protest this?"

"I did not wish to lose my job," she said.

"I see," I said. I was pleased to learn that she had not worn the false pearlsof her own volition. That would surely mitigate her culpability in the matter,at least to some extent, in Gorean eyes. She had, of course, agreed to wearthem. That they might regard as important. That agreement, of course, had beenformed, in a sense, under duress. The Goreans, on the whole a fair folk, woulddoubtless take that into consideration. The degree of duress might be regardedas significant. The matter was surely subtle. Grunt, in any case, as I knew him,would not be interested in punishing her for that action, as it had taken placewhen she was free. That life was behind her now. Her whippings, now, doubtless,would be functions of such things as whether or not she was sufficientlypleasing as a female slave. Still, I would inform Grunt of this development. Hewould find it of interest. Masters find almost everything about their slaves ofinterest. Too, it would please him.

"And so," she said, "I continued to run her errands, to answer her telephone ina pretty voice, to do her biding, to bring her her coffee, to address herdeferentially, to smile at her clients and walk in a certain way past them."

"I understand," I said.

"Doubtless she enjoyed having me do this," she said, bitterly, "my station insociety having been so superior to hers."

"Perhaps," I said. "I do not know."

"It was to be made clear to all her colleagues," she said, angrily, "that I wasonly a girl, fit for lowly labors and being pleasing to her superiors. Clearly Iwas a different sort of woman from her! ' "Perhaps you were," I said.

"Dressed as I was, forced to behave as I was," she said, "how could men see meas executive material?"

"Doubtless it would be difficult," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"You are very feminine," I said, "perhaps you are not executive material."

She squirmed, angrily.

"She well used my femininity, my meaninglessness, MY prettiness," she said, "tohighlight, to point up and accentuate, by contrast, her own quite differentimage, that of strength and competence, of decisiveness, of command, ofauthority and power."

I have seen such women naked," I said, "in a collar, kissing the feet of men."

"Oh?" she said.

"But they are not so beautiful as you," I said.

She was silent.

"Do you feel that your treatment by her was motivated by some insecurity on herpart, by fear for her position or status, that she may have seen you as athreat?"

The girl was silent for a moment. Then she said, "No, I do not think so."

"That is interesting," I said.

"I could not have begun to compete with her," she said.

"You were not that sort of woman," I said.

"No," she said.

"Do you think she disliked you, or hated you?" I asked.

"I don't think so, really," she said, slowly.

"Can you conceive it possible that she may have seen you rather more as youwere, than as you saw yourself?"

"Master?" she asked.

"She may have dressed you as she did," I said, "and treated you as she did, andmade you do the things you did, for a very good reason."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you are feminine," I said.

She was angrily silent.

"Did you enjoy doing the things you were told?" I asked. "Did you enjoyobeying?"

"Sometimes," she whispered.

"Did you object, truly, to the clothing you were expected to wear?" I asked.

"No," she said, "not truly. I like pretty clothes, and the, eyes of men on me."

"As a Gorean slave girl," I said, "you will often find the eyes of men on you,though whether or not you will be permitted clothing will be a function of thedecision of your master."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"How were you taken?" I asked.

"After work," she said. "It was dark. I was driving back to my building. Istopped at a red light. Suddenly, to my horror, a narrow chain was looped aboutmy throat. "Drive as I direct, said a male voice, from behind me. I could notscream. The chain was tight. I was terrified. He had been hidden in the car,behind the back seat. He tightened the chain a quarter of an inch. I could notbreathe. I realized he could, if he wished, strangle me in an instant. A carhonked behind us. "The light has changed, be said. He relaxed the chain,slightly. "Continue on this street, he said, "in the outside lane, at a speednot exceeding twenty-five miles an hour. I pulled away from the intersection.

"You will obey all my directions, he said, "immediately and to the letter, andyou will address me as "Sir." " "Yes, I whispered. The chain tightened. "Yes,Sir, I whispered, fighting for breath. The chain then relaxed, slightly."

"You were already being taught to obey, and to treat men with respect," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said. " "Do not try anything foolish" he said, "such asstalling or damaging the vehicle, for I can slay in an instant, before I make mydeparture. "Yes, Sir, I said. "You may look in the rear-view mirror, if youwish. He said. "You have my permission. I looked in the rear-view mirror,terrified. About my throat, closely looped, was a narrow golden chain. It wascontrolled by two narrow wooden handles, in his hands."

"It was a girl-capture chain," I said. "It is to be distinguished sharply fromthe standard garrote, which is armed with wire and can cut a throat easily. Thestandard garrote, of course, is impractical for captures, for the victim, ineven a reflexive movement, might cut her own throat."

"Whatever it was," she said, "it was very effective. It controlled meperfectly."

"Of course," I said. "That is why it is used."

"In a few moments, the man made an adjustment in the chain, spinning one of thewooden handles. He could the control it with one hand. He tightened it, halfchoking me and then released it, slightly. He had well displayed his power overme. He then released it a bit more. "That's better, isn't it, Baby? he asked.

"Yes, Sir, I said. "Good," he said, "we have a long drive ahead of us. We thendrove on, I terrified, he giving me directions. From other can it would haveseemed merely that a man, leaning forward, perhaps smiling, perhaps conversingwith me, was in the back of my vehicle. If any saw the slender golden chainabout my throat they did not, doubtless, conjecture its significance."

"He was not masked?" I asked.

"No," she said.

"A mask would have aroused suspicion," I said.

"Yes," she said. "Do not fear to look upon my face, you wish, he said, "foryou will not see it again, after you have been delivered. "Delivered! Iexclaimed. "Yes, he laughed, "delivered, my pretty goods. We then drove on. Helet me engage in what, I suppose, are the standard threat and pleas of thecaptured girl, but, then, when he grew we of this amusement, he stopped me. Aslight pressure on chain sufficed. We then continued to drive on. The terrainbecame more remote, more desolate. Soon we were driving on graveled roads. Thenwe were driving on dirt roads, dark and lonely lined with trees. I grasped verylittle of what was going on. I was terrified. The chain was on my throat. Thebeams from the headlights seemed wild on the road ahead of me. "Slow down here, he said, "and pull into those trees, an stop. I obeyed his commands. I switchedoff the car lights and turned off the car engine. I had delivered myself, thoughto whom, or what, or for what I had no idea. He took me from the car by thechain and soon I was in the hands of other men. He left, dropping the chain,with its handles, in the pocket of his jacket. I was thrown to my stomach in thegrass. My hands were fastened behind me in some sort of metal restrainingdevice. It was snug, and inflexible. My ankles were crossed and tied togetherwith a short piece of rope. A metal anklet of some sort was fastened on my leftankle.

"A girls identificatory anklet," I said. "It is removed after her delivery toGor."

"A boxlike device was then placed near my head," she said. "It was hinged at oneend and, on the other side, where it opened, there were matched, semicircularopenings. My head then, by the hair, was placed in this box, and it was closed,enclosing my head, and shutting snugly about my neck. This opening was thenfurther closed by wrapping thick cloth about my neck and thrusting it up, sothat it filled the space between my neck and the edges of the now closedsemicircular openings."

"Interesting," I said.

"My head enclosed in the box," she said, "I heard a car being driven away. Itwas doubtless my own, driven by the fellow with the chain."

"That is quite likely," I said. "He would wish to have means to return to thecity and, of course, it would be important to abandon or dispose of the car farfrom the scene of the abductors' rendezvous."

"And I must remain behind," she said, bitterly.

"Of course," I said. "You were then only a delivered capture."

"A gas was then entered into the box," she said. "I tried to struggle. A man'sfoot held me in place. I lost consciousness I awakened, I do not know how muchlater, in a grassy field on this world, chained by the neck with other girls."

"Interesting," I said. "I do not know, but you may have been stored for a fewdays, perhaps even a few weeks."

"Stored?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "perhaps hibernated. Then, when the order was complete, it couldhave been shipped in its entirety."

"You speak of me as though I might be an object," she said, "a mere commodity."

"You are," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I thrust the slave tunic up and then, pulling her to a sitting position, Ipulled it off, her arms rising, over her head.

"Do you object?" I inquired.

"No, Master," she said. "I may not object. I am a slave."

I cast the scanty garment to the side, on the grass.

"Lie down," I told her, "on your back, with your arms at sides, the palms ofyour hands up, facing the moons of Gor."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Lift your left knee, slightly," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I stood and looked down at her.

"I now lie exposed before you, as a slave, Master," she said.

"Is that fitting and proper?" I inquired.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I am a slave," she said.

"The answer is correct, and suitable," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Are you a new slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"That is incorrect," I said.

"Master?" she asked.

"The only sense in which you are a new slave," I said, "is that it has not beenlong since your legal imbondment."

"Master?" she asked.

"For years, you have been a slave," I said, "only one who was not yet properlyowned, a technicality recently remedied on Gor."

She looked up at me.

"This is what, implicitly, in effect, your aunt was recognizing," I said,"though perhaps not fully consciously. It seems to have been recognized evenmore clearly by your former superior, the female executive. She dressed you, andtreated you, did she not, as, in effect, a slave?"

"Yes," said the girl, angrily.

"I think," I said, "in spite of other possible considerations and advantageswhich might have been involved in her behavior attitudes, she was trying to bekind to you, trying make it clear to you what you were, trying to encourage youto be true to your own nature."

"Perhaps!" said the girl, angrily.

"You like pretty clothes, do you not," I asked, "and like to be attractive tomen."

"Yes!" she said.

"On Gor," I said, "as opposed to your world, It is customary to enslave slaves."

She looked up at me, angrily.

"On Gor," I asked, "have you been branded, and enslaved."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I am a slave?" she asked. "Yes," I said.

She turned her head, angrily, to the side.

I looked down at her. She was exquisitely beautiful. I did not doubt but thatGrunt could get five hides of the yellow kailiauk for her.

"Look at me, Slave," I said.

She regarded me, quickly. "Yes, Master," she said.

"Slaves such as you, on Earth," I said, "not legally imbonded, often use theirbeauty to their own advantage. It opens doors. It smoothes ways. It makes thingseasy for them. They use it to further careers, to buy wealth, and to belittleother women."

"Yes, Master?" she whispered.

"But here, on Gor," I said, "Things are quite different."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Here, on Gor," I said, "your beauty is owned, and fully, as are you."

"Yes Master," she said.

"To whom does your beauty belong, on Gor?" I asked.

"To the master," she said.

"Yes," I said, "and it is he, not you, my dear, who will decide what is to bedone with it, fully, and how it is to be used."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Your palms," I said, "have them facing upward, to the moons of Gor."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Have you had your slave wine?" I asked.

"Ginger, one of my Mistresses," she said, "forced me to drink a bitter beverageby that name."

"Why has your Master, Grunt, sent you to my blankets?" I asked. "Why has hehimself not seen fit to open your slave's body to the pleasures of men?"

"I do not know, Master," she said.

I crouched down beside the naked body of the former Miss MillicentAubrey-Welles, who had been a debutante, now that of a mere slave, supine on myblankets.

"What are the duties of a slave?" I asked.

"They are complex, and manifold, Master," she said.

"Speak generally," I said.

"We are to be absolutely docile," she said, "totally obedient and fullypleasing."

"Are there any qualifications to that?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said, "There are no qualifications. We are slaves.

"And are you prepared to fulfill the duties of a slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said, "and I must, Master, for I am a slave.

"The answers are correct, and suitable, Slave," I said.

"Thank you Master," she said.

"I am to take your virginity," I said. "You understand that?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Would you prefer that your virginity would have been taken from you while youwere a free woman?" I asked.

"No," she said, "rather as a will-less slave, as I am now subject to thedecision and imperious will of a strong master."

I held my hand, opened, a bit above her left breast. She arched her back,pressing that marvelous, lush contour of her enslaved softness against my hand.

I did not move my hand. She lay back, tears in her eyes. "You well know how tohumiliate a slave, Master," she said. I smiled. The test had been an interestingone.

"Do you think, in time, you will prove to be a hot slave?" I asked.

"Hot?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "responsive, sexually vital, owned, helplessly and uncontrollablypassionate."

"I do not know, Master," she said. "What if I do not?"

"Then you will presumably be slain," I said.

She shuddered with terror.

"But do not fear," I said. "Most masters are patient. You will, most likely,have a month or more in which to develop the appropriate secretions and spasms!

She looked at me, with misery.

"I do not think it is anything to worry about, really," I said. "Most girls,under the circumstances, find very little difficulty in becoming passionatefemale slaves. Too, the entire Gorean milieu contributes to the development ofpassion in the female slave. She is dressed in a certain way, for example; sheis commonly collared; she is subject to discipline; her performances arecommanded, and subject to scrutiny and improvement, and so on. The main thing isto attempt to be fully pleasing to the Master, in every way. Too, you willcommonly have a gauge of your progress; if your master is not pleased you willbe beaten or whipped."

"I see, whispered the girl.

"I have seen girls such as you before," I said. "They commonly develop into thehottest of slaves."

She trembled, frightened.

"Remember," I said, "it will be to your advantage to be a hot slave, and,indeed, the hottest slave you can be. This will make you more pleasing to yourmaster, and to those to whom he, at his caprice, consigns you."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"The true wonder in these matters," I said, "and what seems most delightful tome, is the way, gradually, the girls heat begins to develop from within, untilshe is transformed, in effect, into a needful slave. She is then, of course, notonly legally and physically at the mercy of men, but needfully, as well."

"How much a slave she would be then!" exclaimed the girl.

"No one claims that the Gorean slave girl has an easy lot," I said.

"How piteous to be such a girl! ' she said. "Surely men would have mercy onher!"

"Perhaps," I said, "if she is sufficiently beautiful, and sufficientlypleasing."

"Do you think I will develop such passion?" she asked, frightened.

"Yes," I said.

"Do you think, then," she asked, "that men might be moved to show me mercy?"

"You already begin to sense what you might become, do you?" I asked.

"Yes," she whimpered.

"It is a good sign," I said.

"Do you think that if I became such a girl, Master, men might show me mercy?" she asked.

"Perhaps," I said, "if you were sufficiently beautiful, and sufficientlypleasing."

"I would try to be both," she said.

"You are a slave, aren't you?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I think it likely that you would be shown mercy, at least upon occasion," Isaid. "But you, yourself, in a few weeks, will better know the answer to yourquestion."

"In a few weeks?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "when you find yourself on your knees at the feet of a man, oron your belly, crawling to him, to lick his feet, to beg his least touch."

I then, gently, began to caress her. In a few moments, interestingly, she beganto moan.

"I am a slave," she whimpered, looking up at the stars, the Gorean moons.

"You may now request your fulfillment," I informed her.

"I request my fulfillment, Master," she said.

"I will be gentle with you this time," I said, "but sometimes, you mustunderstand, you will be used quite differently, for example, with contempt orscorn, or brutality, or cruel indifference, or, perhaps, with ruthless power."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Similarly," I said, "you will learn to serve in whatever position your masterdictates and in whatever garb, or lack of garb, he pleases."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And sometimes, too," I said, "You may have to serve in bonds, even cruel bonds,such things as thongs, and cords and chains."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And sometimes, too," I said, "Willessly, even though your back and legs maystill sting from his lash."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You will learn to serve him whenever, wherever and however he wishes," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And perfectly," I said.

"Yes, yes, Master," she said.

"For he is the Master, and you are the Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master she said.

"For you are nothing, and he is all," I said.

"Master," she whispered.

"Are you now prepared to be opened?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I looked down into her eyes.

"Open me, Master," she said. "Open me, I beg you, as a slave, for the pleasuresof men!"

"Very well," I said, and then, as she cried out softly, I opened her, a namelessslave, who had once been Miss Millicent Aubrey-Welles, from Pennsylvania, adebutante, for the pleasures of men.

"Please, do not put me back so soon with the others, Master," she begged.

"It is nearly morning," I said.

"Please, Master," she said. She clutched me beneath the blankets, pressing herwarm, vulnerable softness against me "Please," she begged. The blood on theinterior of her left thigh had now dried. When it was fresh I had taken some onmy finger and forced it into her mouth, and onto her tongue forcing her to tasteit. "Yes, Master," she had whimpered. I had also traced the common Kajira mark,the common slave-girl mark that which was the same as her brand, on her thigh inthe blood, and had then smeared its residue down and onto her left calf. In themorning I wanted to make sure that the other girls in the coffle were perfectlyclear on how she had spent the night and what had been done to her.

"Perhaps," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she whispered, happily.

I put out my hand, to the side. The grass was cold with dew. It was still dark.

She kissed me, softly. "How incredible do I find my current reality," she,marveled. "Suddenly, it seems, I find myself a slave, and naked in the blanketsof a master, on a world far from my own."

I said nothing.

"And only, it seems, a common slave," she said.

"Your reality is precisely what it seems," I assured her "You are a slave, andonly a common one."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Your brand should tell you that," I said.

"I am not familiar with Gorean brands," she said.

"Yours is a common slave brand," I said. "It marks most property girls. Youshare it with thousands."

"I was of high station on my own world," she said, petulantly "Here, on Gor," I told her, "Your station, your status, your prestige, are gone,taken with your name and freedom. Here you are only another slave, anotherdomestic" I behaved as one, didn't I?" she asked, rolling onto her back, looking up atthe dark sky.

"It was fitting and proper," I told her.

"How shamed I am," she said.

"Of your responsiveness?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

I smiled. The third and fourth time I had used her she had yielded almost as aslave.

"I cannot help it," she said, "that I am responsive in the arms of a master."

"You are not supposed to help it," I said.

"I suppose if I had not been responsive," she said, "you would have beaten me. "Yes," I said.

"Truly?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I betrayed myself," she said.

"Let us think clearly about this matter," I suggested.

"Your assertion might be construed as meaning that you had committed sometreason against yourself, or, perhaps, as meaning merely that you had revealed,or manifested, yourself. Let us consider, first, the matter of treason. A freewoman might, possibly, feel that she had betrayed herself, in this sense, if shehad so yielded to a man as to supply him with some perhaps subtle hint as to thelatency of her slave reflexes. A slave girl, on the other hand, cannot committreason against herself in this sense, for she is a slave. To commit this typeof treason one must have a right, say, to deceive others as to one's sensuality,to conceal one's sexuality, and so on. The slave girl, an owned animal, underthe command of her master, does not have this sort of right. Indeed, she has norights. Accordingly, she cannot commit this sort of reason Her legal statusprecludes its possibility. She may, of course, rationally, fear the consequencesof her responsiveness being discovered, thus increasing, perhaps to her terror,in a slave culture, her desirability. Similarly she may lie or attempt to lie,about her responsiveness, but she is then of course, merely a lying slave and,when found out, Will be treated accordingly."

"Such treason, then," she said, "can be committed only by a free woman."

"Yes," I said. "It is a luxury not permitted to the slave."

"It is a function only of the free woman's right to lie, and defraud, others?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "It is possible, of course, for the slave, subjectively,psychologically, to feel that she has committed this treason, for she may,mistakenly, be still regarding herself implicitly, as a free woman."

"But she cannot, in fact, have committed it, because she is a slave?" asked thegirl.

"Yes," I said.

"I understand, Master," she said, bitterly.

"You see," I said, "you were still regarding yourself, implicitly, at least atthe moment, as a free woman, or, perhaps better, more narrowly, as retaining atleast one of the rights of a free woman."

"I am not to be beaten, am I, Master?" she asked.

"Not at the moment, at least," I informed her.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

"The second sense in which you might have intended your remark about betrayingyourself, though I think it was not the sense in which you did intend it, wouldbe the innocent sense, quite appropriate for a slave girl, of revealing ormanifesting significant aspects of your nature. In this sense, of course, aslave girl has no alternative other than to betray herself. She is under anobligation, and a quite harsh and strict one, to release, manifest and reveal,fully, and in all its depths and facets, the profundities of her nature, thefundities of her femaleness."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I think now," I said, "it is time to chain you with the others."

"You can just take me and chain me with them, can't you?" she said, angrily.

"Yes," I said.

"You took my virginity," she said. "Does that not mean anything to you?"

"No," I told her.

"It was, after all," she said, "only the virginity of a slave!"

"Precisely," I said.

She squirmed angrily.

"Are you angry?" I asked.

"Am I permitted anger?" she asked, warily.

"I will permit it, for now," I said.

"Yes," she said, I am angry."

"Your concern is not well-warranted," I said. "Your having was merely theungating of a slave, her breaching, her opening, an unimportant prefatorytechnicality in the history of her bondage."

"Of course!" she said.

"Would you be so concerned about a boar's opening of she-tarsk?" I asked. Shehad seen animals of this sort in streets of Kailiauk, in the dawn of the dayfollowing her sale, when she and the others had been marched out towards theIhanke. They are used, not unoften, in small Gorean towns, to scavenge garbage.

Ginger and Evelyn had identified the animals for them. They had also informedthem that, many towns, such an animal might, in a market, bring than theythemselves.

"I am the she-tarsk!" she said. "I am the slave!"

"Do you think that you are important?" I inquired.

"No, Master," she said.

"There, you see," I said.

"Yes," she said, "I see." She lay back, angrily.

There was a narrow rim of light in the east now. The air was still damp, andchilly.

"Do you respect me?" she asked.

"No," I told her.

She gasped, in misery.

"Kiss me," I told her, "fifty times, and well."

"Yes", Master," she said, and began to kiss me about the face and neck. Icounted the kisses. There were fifty of thenThen she lay down beside me.

"You used me well, earlier," she said.

"You are a mere slave," I said. "It is simple to use a mere slave well."

"Doubtless girls such as myself are often well used," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"And, we must submit, unquestioningly, to even our most brutal usage," she said.

"Of course," I said. "Are you distressed?"

"No, Master," she said. "Not really. It is only that I am not used to being ananimal, a slave."

"I understand," I said.

"In your use of me," she said, "you did not give me not even for your use ofme."

"No," I said.

"Was that deliberate?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"A clever way to make clear to me that I was only fondled animal, helpless inyour arms.

I did not speak.

"I can scarcely begin to cope with my feelings," she said "They are so troubled,so tumultuous."

"Speak," I said.

"I must lie there," she said. "I could not escape. I must submit!"

"Yes," I said.

"I was controlled. I was owned!"

"Yes," I said.

"I was powerless," she said. "How you dominated me!"

"You were used with great gentleness," I said, "though also, to be sure, withfirmness and authority, as befits a slave As for domination, you cannot yet evenbegin to suspect what it is for a woman to be dominated by a master."

"She would be so owned," she whispered.

"Yes," I said.

"Can you understand my feelings of utter helplessness, and humiliation?" sheasked.

"I think so," I said.

"I have other feelings, as well," she whispered.

"What?" I asked.

"I cannot believe how I yielded in your arms," she whispered.

"You are merely a slave who yielded," I said. "You have not yet begun to learn,as a slave, what is the nature of true slave yieldings."

"Doubtless I will be taught," she said.

"You are beautiful," I said. "It is not unlikely."

"I had never dreamed that sensations such as you induced in me could exist," shewhispered.

"They were largely the result of your own initial responsiveness," I said, "plusthe fact that you realized you were I a slave. They cannot even form a soundbasis, I would suppose, on which you could begin to even remotely conjecture thenature of the feelings and sensations which lie before you. Beyond thesensations which you have hitherto experienced lie infinite horizons."

"I am afraid," she said.

"To your feelings of humiliation and helplessness, then, I said, "we may alsoadd the emotion of fear."

"But I have other emotions, other feelings, too, Master," she said.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"Eagerness," she said, "pleasure, curiosity, excitement, sensual arousal, adesire to please, a desire to serve, a desire to be owned and mastered, a desireto be true to my basic and radical femaleness."

"I see," I said.

"Never before tonight," she said, "have I, now only a nameless slave, felt somuch in contact with my femininity. I have learned tonight that being a woman isa real thing to be. It is not a biological triviality. It is not aninsignificant, regrettable concomitant of a genetic lottery. It is somethingreal and important in itself, something precious and wonderful" I agree," I said.

"And it is not to be a man," she said.

"No," I said. "I do not think so."

"Strange," she said, "that I should have learned this only stripped, and in thearms of a master, and on a world far from my own."

Oft is not strange that you should learn this on a world far from your own," Isaid, "for your world is like a distorting lens, perverting even the mostconspicuous lineaments of biological reality, nor is it strange that you shouldlearn it as a stripped slave. Your stripping, particularly as it was done by aman, or at the command of a man, should put you in touch with certain femalerealities, such as your beauty, and its softness, and its subject ability tomale domination; it should also, through exposure, and through various, subtleskin stimulations, heighten your vulnerability and sensitivity; this will enableyou to feel more keenly and enable you to understand, more clearly, certainbasic truths, such as the differences between men and women, and that you,whatever you are, are not a man."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Lastly, and most importantly," I said, "you find yourself a slave. Femaleslavery is the institutionalized expression, in a civilization congenial tonature, of the fundamental biological relationship between the sexes. In theinstitution of female slavery we find this basic relationship recognized,accepted, clarified, fixed and celebrated. A civilization, you see, need notinevitably be a conflict with nature. A rational, informed civilization caneven, in a sense, refine and improve upon nature; it can, so to speak, bringnature to fruition. Indeed, a natural civilization might be the naturalflowering of nature itself, not an antithesis to nature, not a contradiction tonature, not a poison nor a trammel to it, but a stage or aspect of it, a formwhich nature itself can take.

"I fear even to understand such thoughts," she said, "let alone consider whetheror not they might be true."

"Consider the case of the female slave," I said. "She was once a primitive,brutish female, innocent of legalities but, in effect, owned. She is now,commonly, a collared, imbonded beauty, properly marked as merchandise,effectively displayed and marketed, and owned in the full right of law."

"Yes, Master," said the girl.

"Who can doubt but what here civilization, as nature's refinement or expression,has wrought an improvement?"

"Surely, no one, Master, ' whispered the girl.

"Too, you will note that civilization has increased the control of the girls andthe effectiveness of bondage, the marking, the identification of masters, thepapers of sale, and so on. Escape, then, for all practical purposes, becomesimpossible."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And you are such a girl," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I am now going to put you with the others," I said. I stood up, thrusting theblankets to one side. She drew her legs up, feeling the coldness of the air. Ilooked down at her, she looking up at me. She was very beautiful.

"I am at your feet," she said.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Very feminine, very female," she said.

"How do you explain these feelings?" I asked.

"That I am a woman, at the feet of a strong man," she said, "one who dominatesme, one who masters me, one whom I must obey."

"You do not speak like a woman of Earth," I said.

"I have learned much on Gor," she said, "and I have learned much this night."

I looked down at her, arms folded.

She put out her fingers, touching the dark blankets. Then, spinning, she lookedup at me. "It is where we belong, isn't it, Master?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I have always known it in my heart," she said, "but I never thought it wouldcome true."

I went to pick up her tunic. I felt the blades of wet, cool grass cut at myankles. I tossed her the tunic. She knelt, holding it. It was tiny, in herhands. On it, dark and wet, moist in its fibers, were the marks of dew.

She clutched the tunic, looking at me. She did not draw it on.

"I am no longer a virgin, Master," she said.

"That is known to me, I assure you," I said.

"I am now only a full and opened slave," she said, "no different from othergirls, one, like them, readily available at the master's least desire."

"Yes," I said.

"I am not sore, Master," she said.

I nodded.

"But that does not make any difference, does it?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Master," she whispered.

"Perhaps now you should garb yourself," I said.

"This is garb?" she asked, smiling, holding out the tunic. "It is scarcely ascanty rag."

"It leaves little doubt as to your charms," I admitted.

"It does not even have a nether closure," she said.

"It is not supposed to," I said. "Do you know why?"

"That I may be reminded that I am a slave," she smiled, "that my vulnerabilitymay be heightened, that I may be invaluable to masters."

"Ginger and Evelyn have taught you that," I said.

"They have taught us many things," she said.

"What about intimate secrets of slave love-making?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

"The little she-sleen are doubtless guarding such secrets from you," I said. "Ishall speak to Grunt in the morning. It will not prove to be in their interestto persist in this particular reticence."

"Yes, Master," she said, frightened.

"They will teach you, and the other jewels on the coffle, all they can, andquickly," I said. "Failure will be cause for severe discipline."

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"An ignorant free woman is a commonplace," I said. "An ignorant slave is anabsurdity."

"You mean I am actually to be taught how to please man, trained?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "trained, as the lovely animal you are."

She looked at me, frightened.

"And I advise you to learn your lessons well," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You are doubtless familiar, from your former world, with arts such as sewingand cooking, commonly thought appropriate for women," I said.

"Of course, Master," she said.

"Can you cook and sew?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said. "Such arts, I thought, were for lower women."

"You will learn them," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But beyond such arts as cooking and sewing, arts commonly thought appropriatefor women, arts with which you are familiar, there are, obviously, many otherarts. It should thus come as no surprise to you that among these other should becertain delicate, delicious and intimate arts, particularly appropriate to thefemale slave."

"I suppose not, Master," she said.

"You are not a wastrel free woman," I said. "You are a slave. You must earn yourkeep."

She trembled.

"Why do you think you were purchased?" I asked.

She put her small hand before her mouth, fearfully.

"Take your hand away from your mouth," I said. "I would see the lips of theslave."

Swiftly she lowered her hand.

"Straighten your back," I said.

She did so.

"The free woman," I said, "lies down, and waits to see what will happen. Thefemale slave kneels beside her master, and begs to please him. The free womandeems it sufficient that she should exist, the slave girl, on the other hand, isexpected not only to exist, but to excel; indeed, she fears only, commonly, thatshe may not be sufficiently marvelous for her master. It is little wonder thatmost men find the free woman, in her inertness, her ignorance and arrogance,boring. It is little wonder that most men prefer to order her rival to theirfurs, the helpless, collared, curvaceous, lascivious, feminine slave."

"I was once a free woman," said the girl.

"There is hope for the free woman," I said. "She may put in a collar, andstripped, and made subject to the whip. She may then, enslaved, be trained, too,for the pleasure of men."

"Yes, Master," whispered the girl.

"Training, then, should not come as a surprise to you," I said. "It is quitenatural for female slaves to be given training."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Expect, then, to be trained," I said.

"I shall, Master," she said.

I regarded her.

Suddenly she flung herself on her belly across the dark blankets. She reached tomy left ankle and holding it with her small hands, began to kiss at my foot.

"Slaves may beg to please their masters, may they not?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I beg to please my Master," she said. Her lips were warm and soft on my foot.

"I am not your master," I said.

"All free men are my masters," she said, "as all free women are my mistresses."

"That is true," I granted her.

"I beg to please you, as my Master," she said, "and, indeed, tonight, in theseblankets, you are my master, for it is you who have opened me and to whom I havebeen consigned in these hours for your pleasure."

It was true. I was her current use-master. In these hours, in my blankets, shemust be to me as my own slave. In these hours, in my blankets, for all practicalpurposes, I owned her.

I felt her tongue.

"Consider me," she whispered, "for your renewed pleasure."

It is pleasant, as you might well imagine, receiving such attentions from awoman. It is particularly pleasant, I assure you, when she is a slave, for thenshe is owned, and you in do with her what you wish.

"Please, Master," she begged.

"Perhaps," I said.

"Slaves such as I are not trained only by women, are we, Master?" she asked.

"No," I said. "Many Goreans believe that the finest of slave trainers are men,and that only a man with a whip, and total power over a woman, can properlyteach her to be slave."

"Do you have a whip, Master?" she asked.

"My belt will do," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But, in my opinion," I said, "This is over simple. I believe that other women,particularly if they are slaves themselves can be superb slave trainers. Manyslave houses, of course, maintain both male and female trainers. My own theorythat if a girl is to have but one trainer, it is doubtless best for that trainerto be a man, for the girl, in her bondage, is a] most certain to have to relateprimarily to men, to please placate and serve them, and so on. On the otherhand, I think it is also undeniable that a girl can learn much from anothergirl, one who has survived, and is surviving, as a slave."

"Surviving? ' she asked.

"Yes," I said, "for the slave girls who are not pleasing are commonly killed."

She put the side of her head fearfully down on my foot.

"Be pleasing," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But most girls," I said, "not only survive as slaves, but thrive as slaves."

"Master?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "You may find this hard to grasp now, but most girls, as you willlearn, once they discover its authenticity and inescapability, blossom joyously,submitted, in their bondage; in it they occupy their place in nature; in it,subject to the authority and power of strong men, owned and mastereduncompromisingly as mere slaves, they obtain their deepest biologicalself-realization, their ultimate fulfillment. In it, in their place in nature,they become women, as outside of it, they cannot. As the true woman is the trueslave, no woman can become a true woman who is not a true slave."

"Men and women, then," she said, "are not the same."

"No," I said. "Men are the masters. Women are the slaves. Your world has taughtboth sexes to strive for what are, in effect, masculine, or neuteristic, values.

This produces unhappiness and frustration for both sexes. Hormonally normalwomen find it difficult or impossible to achieve happiness through the adoptionof, in effect, transvestite values. Similarly this perversion of valuescomplicates or precludes, for the glandularly normal male, the achievement of anatural biological fulfillment. Both sexes, then, frequently fail to obtainhappiness, or fall far short of the happiness of which they are both capable,that happiness which is a consequence of maintaining a biological fidelity totheir separate natures."

"The lies, the hypocrisies, the pretensions of pseudo-masculinity will not bepermitted to me on Gor, will they, Master?" she asked.

"Not in the least," I told her, "for you are a slave."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Does this displease you?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

"Does it please you?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Even the girl who does not have a female trainer," I said, "will often seek outmore experienced girls, to beg them for their intimate counsels and theirsecrets of love and beauty. Sometimes she purchases these by such tiny gifts, offood and such, as may be within her province, or by performing portions of theother's labors, and so on. Indeed, much of the chitchat of slave girls, in theirgatherings, has to do, in one way or another, with the pleasing of masters."

It is in our best interest to fulfill our duties well," she said.

"But the best trainers you will have," I said, "will be your particular masters,and yourself. There is a specific magic, so to speak, and chemistry, betweeneach master and each slave. Each master is different, and, so, too, deliciously,is each Slave. Each master will train his own girl according to his owninterests and tastes, and each girl, in the private and intimate context of theparticular master/slave relation, by means of her intelligence and imagination,owned, will train herself to be his special slave, specifically and personally."

"I understand, Master," she said.

"But, even given the uniqueness of each bondage relation," I said, "there arestill certain common denominators in all such relations, which must not be lostsight of, such as the legal status of the slave, that she is, ultimately, onlyan article of property, that she is liable to discipline and punishment, andthat she is totally subject to the will of the master."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But beyond this," I said, "Beyond the concern with an individual master, youwill learn, more generally, how to be pleasing to men. You may be sold to astranger, or given to one, or fall into the hands of a stranger, or group ofstrangers. You may know little or nothing of your master, or masters, other thanthe fact that he holds total power over you, and he may know little or nothingof you, other than the fact that your lovely hide is marked with the brand ofthe female slave. You thus begin again, anew, your struggle to convince a masterthat there may be some point in keeping you about, that there may be some pointin putting a bit of gruel in a bowl, or hollowed stone, for you, or thrusting acrust of bread in your mouth. You attempt to convince him of this, of course,even though he is unknown to you, even though he is a total stranger to you, byserving him, and superbly, as a female slave. Do you understand what I amsaying?"

"Yes, Master," she said, "that I must learn, in general, how to be pleasing tomen."

"Yes," I said, "this any slave girl must learn, such things as the kisses, thetouches, the squirmings, the thousand submissions."

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"But, do not fear," I said, "Such modalities are not learned in vain. They willbe required of you even by a love master, and, indeed, he will doubtless requirethem from you with a harshness, an amplitude and exactness far beyond that of amore casual owner."

"But, why, Master?" she asked.

"Because you are," I said, "in the final analysis, as he will wish you toremember, only his slave. Too, do you think he would require less from you, alove slave, than from some more common girl chained at his feet?"

"No, Master," she said.

"Are you silent?" I asked.

"It seems strange to think of serving a love master with the same proficiencieswith which I must serve any other man, as a mere slave," she said.

"Your skills and talents are surely as much, or more, at his disposal, as theyare at the disposal of any other male," I said.

"True," she said.

"Do you object?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said. "I would want to serve my love master, to the best of myability, with whatever skills or talents I might have."

"And he would see that you do so," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said. Suddenly she sobbed.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

"I am so frightened," she said. "This world terrifies me, and on it I am only anaked slave. I do not know what to do. I am afraid. I am so ignorant. I knownothing. I am so frightened. I am only a slave."

"You speak truly, ignorant slave," I said. Did she expect me to comfort her?

She turned her head to the side, and laid her left cheek on the blankets at myfeet. "Please put your foot on my neck, Master," she said.

"I did so, with just enough pressure that she could feel its weight, and that ofmy body.

"You could now," she said, "with one motion of your foot, kill me."

"Yes," I said.

"Please do not kill me, Master," she said. "Instead, take pity on me, I beg ofyou, and find me pleasing."

I took my foot from her neck. "I shall inspect you," I told her. "You may kneelbefore me."

Swiftly she rose from her stomach to kneel before me.

"Knees wide," I told her, "back on heels, stomach in, head high, hands onthighs, shoulders back, breasts thrust out."

I moved her hair back, behind her shoulders, and smoothed it out. It would not,thus, interfere with my view. I appraised her, slowly, carefully. "It is notimpossible," I told her, at length, "that a man might find you pleasing."

"Make me please you," she begged.

"Rather," I said, "I shall permit you to beg to please me, and as a slave."

"I beg to please you, Master," she said.

"As a slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said, "I beg to please you and as a slave."

"But you are untrained," I said, scornfully.

"Train me," she begged, tears in her eyes.

I regarded her, dispassionately.

"Train me, Master," she begged. "Train me, please, Master!"

"Take your hair from behind your left shoulder," I said, "and hold it before,and against, your lips. Part of the hair keep before your lips and against them.

Another part of the hair, the center strands, take back between your lips, sothat you can feel it on the soft interior surfaces of your lips. A portion ofthis same hair take then back against your teeth, and a portion of that back,between the teeth. Now purse your lips and, while remaining kneeling, rise fromyour heels, and lean forward, gently and submissively."

And thus began the training of a nameless slave on the plains of Gor.

In a few moments I thrust her back to the blankets.

"Do I train well, Master?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "Pretty slave. You are an apt pupil, and you train well."

She snuggled against me.

"It is a tribute to your intelligence," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

"And to your genetic predisposition to slavery," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

A woman's acquisition of slave arts follows a steep learning curve, far beyondwhat would be expected was the template, or readiness, for these arts notintrinsic to her nature. She learns them far too swiftly and well not to be, ineffect, a born slave.

"Oh!" she said, and then I again took her.

This time the slave squirmings of her, though inchoate and rudimentary, wereunmistakable.

"How long has it been since you were a virgin?" I asked.

"A thousand years," she smiled. "I think perhaps ten thousand years."

"Do you feel now less than you were before," I asked, "less important, somehowless significant?"

"No," she said, "I feel ten thousand times more important, more significant,than I was before."

"Virginity, as I understand it, in English," I said, "is sometimes spoken of asthough it might be something which could be lost. In Gorean, on the other hand,it is usually conceived of as something which is to be outgrown, or superseded."

"Interesting," she said.

"What, in English," I asked, "is a woman who is not a virgin?"

She thought for a moment. "A nonvirgin, I suppose," she said.

"This type of distinction is drawn in various ways in Gorean," I said. "Theclosest to the English is the distinction between "glana' and "metaglana. "Glana' denotes the state or virginity and "metaglana' denotes the statesucceeding virginity. Do you see the difference?"

"Yes," she said, "in Gorean virginity is regarded as a state to be succeeded."

"Another way of drawing the distinction is in terms of "falarina', and" profalarina. "Profalarina' designates the state preceding falarina, which isthe state of the woman who has been penetrated at least once by a male."

"Here," she said, "the state of virginity is regarded as one which looks toward,or has not yet attained, the state of falarina."

"Yes," I said. "In the first case, virginity is seen as something to besucceeded, and, in the second, it is seen as something which is conceived of asmerely antedating the state of falarina. It takes its very meaning from the factthat it is not yet falarina."

"Both of these situations are quite different from the English said. "InEnglish, as I see now, interestingly, virginity is spoken of as a positiveproperty, and nonvirginity, in spite of its obvious and momentous importance,and even its necessity, presumably, for the continuation of the species, seemsto be regarded as being merely the absence of a property, or the privation of aproperty."

"Yes," I said. "It is as though the whole spectrum were divided into the blueand the nonblue. Properly understood the nonblue is every bit as real, and iseven more extensive and variegated than the blue."

"Yes," she said.

"It is thus that pathological conceptions, ingrained in common speech, canproduce distorted notions of reality," I said…"I understand, Master," she said.

"In Gorean, as not in English," I said, "the usual way, however, of drawing thedistinction is in terms of "glana' and "falarina. Separate words, these, areused for the separate properties or conditions. Both conditions, so to speak,are accorded a similar status. Both are regarded as being equally real, equallypositive, so to speak."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Sometimes, metaphorically, in English, however," I said, "a distinction isdrawn between the virgin and the woman, a distinction which is almost Gorean intone. Strictly, of course, in English, one might be both a woman and a virgin."

"Do Goreans speak freely of these things?" she asked.

"Free persons do not commonly speak freely of them," I said. "For example,whether a free woman is glana or falarina is obviously her business, and no oneelse's. Such intimate matters are well within the prerogatives of her privacy."

"Such matters, however, I suspect," she said, "are not within the prerogativesof a slave's privacy."

"No," I said. "Such matters are public knowledge about slaves, as much as thecolor of their hair and eyes, and their collar size."

"And my most intimate measurements?" she asked.

"Public knowledge," I assured her, "if anyone should be interested."

"What privacy am I permitted, then?" she asked.

"None," I told her.

"And what secrets?" she asked.

"None," I told her.

"I see," she said.

"You perhaps now understand, a little better than before; I said," What it willbe to be a slave."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Your opening, for example, is not to be kept a secret," I said.

"The blood you smeared on my leg will see to that," she smiled.

"Do you fear the criticism, the derision, or ridicule, of the other girls?" Iasked.

"I fear only," she said, "that I may not have sufficiently pleased my master."

"Excellent," I said.

"As they, too, soon shall fear," she said.

"Yes," I said. I wondered if she knew how truly she spoke. The girls on a chain,once opened and made to serve, usually begin to compete among themselves, andsoon, to see who can serve the masters best, and those who do not enterearnestly into this competition, it might be mentioned, are usually the first tobe fed to sleen.

"I was glana," she smiled. "Now I am falarina."

I put my hand, forcibly, over her mouth. Then I removed it from her mouth. "Suchexpressions," I said, "are commonly to be spoken of, and by, free persons. Theyare not to be applied to slaves, any more than to tarsk sows."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You were white silk," I said. "Now you are red silk."

"We are not even entitled to the same words as free persons in such matters?" she asked.

"No," I told her.

"I understand, Master," she said, tears in her eyes.

"Even here, however," I said," you will note that both words suggest a similarstatus. Both notions are equally positive, both properties are conceived of asbeing equally real."

"That is true," she said.

"To be sure," I said, "white in the context of "white-silk girl' tends less tosuggest purity and innocence to the Gorean than ignorance and naivety, and alack of experience. "Red, in the context of "red-silk girl, on the other hand,connotes rather clearly, I think, experience. One expects a red-silk girl, forexample, not only to be able to find her way about the furs, but, subject to thewhip, owned and dominated, perhaps chained, to prove herself a sensuous treasurewithin them."

"I am red-silk," she said. "Have me."

"Perhaps," I said. I began to touch her, gently.

"Ohhh," she said, "yes."

"Do you like that?" I asked.

"Must I respond to such a question?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said. "I like it." She closed her eyes. "Oh, yes," she said,"I like it."

"Master," she said, looking up at me.

"Yes," I said.

"More than once tonight," she said, "you have mentioned binding, or chaining."

"Yes," I said.

"I would fear to be bound or chained," she said.

"All the more reason to bind or chain you," I said.

She shuddered.

"Master," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Why would you bind a woman who is a slave?" she asked. "She knows that there isno escape for her. She is not going to run away. She knows that you may do withher as you please."

"It holds her in a given position," I said, "for your leisured work upon herbody."

"That is true," she said.

"But the primary reasons," I said, "are, as you might suspect, psychological,both from the point of view of the master and the slave. She, chained, or bound,is helpless. She knows that she might, at the master's whim, be slit like alarma. This increases her terror, her vulnerability, her desire to be foundpleasing. This makes her feel more slave like and, accordingly, more ready torespond to the touch of the master. From the master's point of view, of course,this is also stimulating. It is pleasant for a man to have absolute power over awoman, to have her bound or chained in a position of his choosing, and to knowthat she must submit to whatever be chooses to do to her. In this situation theequations of nature, those of dominance and submission, are intensified. This isfelt by both the master and the slave. Too, to be sure, there is, forphysiological reasons also, commonly, some boosting of the female's responses,as the result of the binding, the restraint. The orgasmic spasms, somewhatrestricted, or, perhaps better, channeled, regulated and controlled, confinedwithin the parameters set by the master, must then seem more intense, moreconcentrated."

"I see," she whispered.

"But the main thing, in my opinion," I said, "is the psychological effect on thewoman, the bringing home to her, I in clear, forcible and undeniable terms, thereality of her situation, that she is helpless, that she is at his mercy, thatshe, regardless of her will, is now his to do with as he pleases, that she isowned, that she is his slave, and that he is her master."

"I would be terrified to be bound," she said.

I saw that she wished to be bound.

I continued to caress her.

"Master," she whispered.

"Yes," I said.

"Bind me," she whispered.

"Do you beg it?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered. "I beg to be bound."

"Kneel," I told her, "quickly."

Swiftly then did she kneel, and looked at me, frightened.

"I have changed my mind," she said.

"Do not break position," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I went to my saddlebags, with the kaiila saddle, and withdrew two fairly shortlengths of soft, pliant, braided black leather, each about twenty-five inches inlength.

I pulled back her right wrist a bit and tied it to her right ankle. I left herabout six or seven inches of slack between wrist and ankle. "This is a commonopen-legged tie," I said. "It is not good for general security, but it is agood, and familiar, slave tie." I then fastened her left wrist to her leftankle, as I had done with her right wrist and-ankle. "When finished with you," Isaid', "I might simply bind your wrists behind you and tie your ankles together.

That is a familiar and effective security tie. If you had not been sufficientlypleasing I might pull up your bound ankles and tie them to your wrists. Yourneck, of course, might always be tied to a stake, or bound to a tree."

I then stood up and stepped back, to observe my handiwork. "An advantage of thistie," I said, "is that a girt may kneel in it comfortably for hours, perhapsbeside a master's chair, while he works, and is not yet ready for her."

She pulled a little, almost surreptitiously, at the leather on her wrists,leading back to her ankles.

"Is this all?" she asked, timidly.

"I see that there are potentialities of this tie which, as yet, you have notdiscerned," I said.

I then took her by the hair and threw her forward on the blankets, on her belly.

"Struggle," I told her.

She did so, helplessly. Then she ceased her struggles.

"An interesting perspective on a woman," I said. "Too, bound in this positionshe is seldom in doubt as to the fact that she is a slave. Too, in time, it canbe quite painful." She groaned, and I, mercifully, thrust her to her side. Shelooked up at me, frightened. "Whereas this tie," I said, "is not good forgeneral security, it is quite adequate for specific security, namely, securityin a specific situation, in this case, in the presence of the master or akeeper. For example, under observation, you cannot very well employ your righthand in the attempt to undo the knot on your left ankle. If the tie, of course,is accomplished with chains, then it is also adequate for a general security, anaesthetic and delicious general security, a chain neck leash being added,naturally, to restrict movement." I then put her on her back. Her knees weredrawn up and her hands held helplessly at her sides. "Now," I said, "I think youcan see one of the main virtues of this, tie. The woman is quite helpless,absolutely, and there is not the least impedance to the master's approach."

She seemed to shrink back in the bonds.

"Please, untie me," she said.

I thrust apart her knees.

"Oh!" she said.

I held her knees apart, not permitting her to close them.

"I do not want to be tied like this!" she cried. "I did not know it would belike this. I am too helpless! Please, untie me! Free me! Loosen my bonds! Do notkeep me tied like this! No! Please!"

I regarded her.

She looked at me in fear. She squirmed, helplessly.

"What do you know of me?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she said, "only that you are my master."

"What might I do to you?" I asked.

"Anything," she said.

I withdrew my hands, permitting her to close her knees, which she did,immediately, clenching them fearfully together.

"You have tied me like a pig," she said.

"The pig," I said, "is not a Gorean animal. To be sure, you are trussed ratherlike a she-tarsk."

"You have tied me, then," she said, "like a she-tarsk!"

"Do not flatter yourself," I said, "that you enjoy a status as high as eitherthat of the pig or she-tarsk. Your status is lower than that of either. It isthat of the female slave."

"You have bound me, then," she said, "as a slave!"

"Now you speak the truth," I informed her.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

"Whatever I wish," I said.

She moaned. She pulled weakly at her wrist tethers, fastening her wrists to herankles.

"Do you begin to sense now," I asked, "what it might for a woman to be bound bya man?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"Can you escape?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

"Are you powerless?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said. "I am powerless, totally."

"What will be done to you?" I asked.

"I do not know! ' she wept. "I am helpless. I am a slave. I am at your mercy. Itis you who will decide what is to be done with me."

"Perhaps I will whip you, lashing you with my belt," I said. "Perhaps I willkick you, again and again. convincing you of your worthlessness. Perhaps I shallkneel across your body, slapping you, methodically, again and again, until youbeg for mercy. Perhaps I shall merely, for my amusement, beat you senseless."

"Please, Master, no," she said.

"Perhaps it shall be the quirt," I said. "Perhaps I shall us the quirt on you,lengthily, as on a recalcitrant she-kaiila."

"No, Master," she said. "Please, no, Master! ' "Are you recalcitrant?" I asked.

"I am not recalcitrant," she said. "I am docile, and obedient. I am ready toplease you, and I desire to please you."

"Perhaps I will butcher you," I said. "Perhaps I will take you.

She looked at me, in horror.

"Would you prefer to be butchered or taken?" I asked.

"Taken, Master," she said. "I beg to be taken."

"The taking of a free woman," I asked, "in which, to some extent, her dignity,pride and status are respected, or the taking of a slave?"

"I am a slave, Master," she said. "I beg that of a slave."

I looked at her knees, clenched closely together. "Spread your knees apart,widely," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Now beg," I told her.

"I beg," she said.

In moments it was necessary to thrust her hair, balled and wadded, into hermouth, and I put my hand, too, over her mouth. Her eyes were wild. She kickedwildly at the pliant, braided black leather, again and again. Then, mercifully,I unbound her limbs and I let her straighten her trembling in the blankets. Withone finger I pulled the wet hair from her mouth. She was gasping, andshuddering. I held her closely for a few minutes that she might, while thuswarmed and sheltered, make some adjustment to this new dimension, which she haddiscovered in her being.

"What was it?" she whispered.

"It was a small one," I reassured her.

"What was it?" she whispered.

"It was the first, I think, of your slave orgasms," I said. I then rose from herside and threw her the tiny slave tunic. "Put it on," I said. She did so, and Ithen lifted her gently in my arms and carried her to the chain. I put her downthere, on her side, softly, in the grass. When I lifted the opened collar toplace it about her throat, she put her hands on my wrists, and softly kissed myhands. She looked at me, her eyes wondrous, and soft.

"I did not know it could be like that," she said.

"It was only a small thing," I said.

"There could be more?" she asked.

"You have not yet begun to learn what it can be, to be a slave," I said.

She looked at me, frightened.

I then snapped the collar about her throat.

"Do you know, ultimately," I asked, "Who will prove to be your one besttrainer?"

"No, Master," she said.

"You, yourself," I said, "the girl, herself, eager to please, imaginative andintelligent, monitoring her own performances and feelings, striving lovingly toimprove and refine them. You yourself will be largely responsible for makingyourself the superb slave you will become."

"Master?" she asked.

"The collar," I said, touching it, "is put on from without, but what itencircles, the slave, comes from within."

"Master?" she asked.

Slavery," I told her, "true slavery, comes from within, and you, my lovelylittle red-haired beast, I assure you, as was evidenced by your behavior andperformances this night, are a true slave. Do not fight your slavery. Allow itfreely and spontaneously, candidly, sweetly and untrammeled, to manifest itself.

It is what you are."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"It, too," I said, "will save you many bouts with the lash."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I then turned about and left her, on the chain. "Master!" she called, but I didnot turn back. She would stay there, on the coffle, where I bad put her. She wasonly a slave.

I returned to my blankets and lay down again, to sleep for a few Ehn before thecamp began to stir.

Nothing of importance had transpired. I had merely done a favor for Grunt, myfriend, opening a slimly bodied, red-haired girl for him, one of his slaves.

To be sure, she was pretty, and first on the coffle.