Dancer of Gor

11 The Raffle; The Alcove; The Kennel

I waited, frightened, within the threshold, clutching the sheet about me. I leaned back against the wall, my eyes closed for a moment. Beyond the threshold I could hear the conversation of men, sitting, cross-legged, at the low tables. The library seemed faraway now.

There was a beaded curtain hung in the threshold.

I listened to the sounds of the men.

Sometimes, I had heard, before nights such as this, a girl is kept in close chains, sitting or lying, scarcely able to move. Too, sometimes, for days before a night like this she wears the sirik. I had very seldom been in sirik, though I had worn one in my training once or twice, so that I might be instructed in the strict limitations it would impose on me, and how I might, nonetheless, move in it, if it were set to suitable widths, in a way pleasing to masters. The full sirik consists of a collar an three chains. One of these chains, a long, vertical chain, attached to the collar, dangles downward. To it are fastened two horizontal chains, one, from its attachment point near the lower belly, terminating in slave bracelets, wrist-rings, or manacles, and the other, from its attachment point at the end of the dangling chain, usually lying on the floor, or ground, terminating in shackles or ankle-rings. Parts of this arrangement may function separately, of course, for example, the long chain as a leash, the horizontal attachments as, say, slave bracelets or ankle shackles. Too, in many siriks, the chain widths are adjustable. In that way the latitudes of movement accorded to the slave may be enlarged or reduced, as the master pleases. They are, as many other things in the slave" s life, under his exact governance. In the harshest adjustments, she may move with considerable grace and beauty; indeed, in some siriks, it is possible for her to dance. In the sirik adjustments often prescribed for a girl before a night like this she can scarcely walk, the vertical chain" s lower attachment point being drawn up between her ankles, which are then, separated by as little as three or four inches, and her wrists, too, before her body, are even more closely confined. My master, however, had not seen fit to exercise such precautions in my case. He knew, and I knew, they were unnecessary. I leaned back more against the wall, my eyes closed. I clutched the sheet more closely about me. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to go. I was branded and collared. I would be naked or scantily clad. There was no one to rescue me, or free me. I would be bond, and a property, to any who might come upon me, like a dog or horse. The entire legal resources of this world would be marshaled toward returning me to my master. Too, I thought, shuddering, as if such things were not enough, my body, and its odors, with my name, such that it might be included with appropriate triggering signals, had been imprinted on the dark, eager brain of a massive hunting sleen. No, I would not run away. When my master came for me, to take me by the arms and lead me to the floor, I would be here, in the only way I could be here, waiting, and docile.

I listened again to the murmur of the men outside, the small sounds of their goblets and plates.

I considered again the sleen. "I think you will like Borko," had said my master, before I had seen the beast, when I had only heard him in the tunnel, and then entering the room. I recalled the huge head, the two rows of fangs, the dark tongue, the widely set eyes, the thrusting, prowling snout, the claws. It had been trained, I had learned, to hunt men, and slaves. Obediently it had withdrawn to its kennel at the word of my master. But just as swiftly, I was sure, it could be summoned forth again, and set about its master" s bidding, implacably, unquestioningly, innocently, mercilessly, eagerly. I shuddered. That beast, I thought, if nothing else, would serve to keep good order among the women of Hendow, a taverner on Dock Street, in Brundisium. I smiled to myself. Sometimes women, either free or slave, are called she-sleen." I had not known, until a few days ago, what a sleen was. I now knew. I might be a "she-urt," or a she-tarsk," I thought, but I certainly was not a "she-sleen," even figuratively. To be sure, at that time, I did not know about the miniature, silken sleen that are sometimes kept as sinuous pets. Perhaps it is that sort of she-sleen, which, if not properly controlled, tends to be sly, nasty and dangerous, that men have in mind when they sometimes apply that expression to a woman. I do not know. To be sure, as the men say, it seems that even the woman who is a «she-sleen» needs only a strong master, one who brings her swiftly to her knees and teaches her that she is a female. The husk of the she-sleen, as it is said, can be torn away, never to grow again, leaving behind only the soft flesh of another slave.

I opened my eyes. I heard bells outside the threshold, from the floor.

I inched to my right, and turned, looking out through the beaded curtain. I could see the men there, at the tables. It was a broad, low-ceilinged room, with pillars. It was dimly lit, mostly with tharlarion-oil lamps, hung on chains from the ceiling. There were some fifty tables in the room, tables at which, if not placed adjacently to one another, generally four men might sit. Some men, too, were sitting about the walls, leaning against them. There was a crowd in the tavern tonight. I had heard the eighteenth bar struck some time ago. It would soon be the height of the evening, the time ore the special entertainment, an entertainment in which I had a prominent role. There had even been some handbills distributed by boys about the city, and others, I had heard, had been tacked up on public boards. There had been signs painted too, I gathered, here and there among similar signs, usually on poorer streets, or in alleys, where magistrates, less inclined to object, were also less prone to patrol. To be sure, most of my master" s clientele came from such areas.

I looked out. The bells I had heard were apparently on Tupita.

I wondered how many of the men out there had come for the special entertainment this evening. Some, I was sure.

I did not care much for Tupita, and she did not care much for me. I saw her kneeling beside a man, pouring him paga. She was naked, like the other girls on the floor. Hendow liked his women, or at least his paga slaves, on the floor, that way. Too, in the lower paga taverns it is not uncommon. Tupita knelt back from him. I think she was afraid of him. I hoped he would take he in an alcove and put her through her paces! I heard the sound of a blow, probably with the back of a hand, and a cry of pain and saw, to one side, to the right, Ilene, struck back to her left thigh, looking up, frightened, at one of the men, now on his feet. He took her by the arm, pulling her to her feet, conducting her then, she stumbling, hurried, to one of the alcoves. Perhaps she would be further punished there. Though «Ilene» is an Earth-girl name, Ilene was Gorean. Such names are sometimes given to Gorean girls, sometimes to inform them, to their horror, that they are not to be as low and succulent, and helpless, and luscious as Earth females in Gorean bondage. I was, incidentally, the only Earth girl in the house. I drew back my head and leaned back again, breathing deeply, against the wall, to the left of the threshold, as one would enter it. I was afraid of such men!

I again closed my eyes.

I could hardly stand. Tonight I was to dance before me, such men! I felt ill. I had danced hitherto only before Teibar, and his men, at the library, and once or twice before the men in the house of my training, and, of course, here, in my lessons, before some men, in particular, the musicians, and some men from the house, who, from time to time, would pause to watch me. But I had never danced before Hendow, my own master. Mirus had seen me several times, though, and he, I am sure, had conveyed reports to my master. Mirus, when I had knelt before him at the end of my lessons, seemed generally, on the whole, and particularly lately, quite pleased with my progress. I received such intelligences with extreme relief, kneeling before him, for I did not wish to be whipped.

Sometimes, in my lessons, as I danced, I could see Mirus, and other men of the house, watching me, their eyes alight. Sometimes they licked their lips, almost as though I might be food. Yesterday, at the conclusion of my last lesson, when in a swirl of music, I had lowered myself to the floor, in a dancer" s posture of abject submission before men, I had heard several of them cry out with approval, and strike their left shoulders repeatedly, fiercely, with the palms of their hands. They had then crowded about me. On my knees, rising, I had been conscious of their legs, and whips, about me. What whips I could I seized to me and kissed, hastily, in fear. I had been afraid they would beat me. But "Marvelous!" and "Superb!" I heard. Mirus was then, almost by force, pushing them away from me, and ordering them to return to their duties. Grumbling they disbanded, leaving the room. When we were alone, after even the musicians had left, and I was still at his feet, I looked up at him. it was he, first among these men, second only to Hendow, my master, whom I must most strive to please. "Master?" I asked. "You have talent," he said, dryly. "Thank you, Master," I said. I put down my head and kissed his feet, delicately, in deference and gratitude. He then turned away from me, rather suddenly I thought.

"Master!" I called to him.

He stopped, and looked back.

"Yes?" he said.

"May I speak?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"When am I to be put forth upon the floor?" I asked.

"You have not been told?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said.

"Tomorrow night," he said. He then left.

I remained kneeling there for a long time, in the practice room. Tomorrow night I would go forth upon the floor. I trembled. Surely I was not yet ready! Yet that judgment, one as to my readiness, was not mine to make. It lay rather in the province of masters. They had judged me "ready." To be sure, I would be ready only as a "new girl" is ready. I would be ready, in effect, simply to begin, to begin to become a female slave. Could I truly be ready to begin, I wondered. I recalled the faces of the men from a few minutes ago. Yes, I thought, perhaps the masters are right. Perhaps I am ready for that beginning. I trembled, looking down at the floor. How they had looked at me, so eagerly, so excitedly, relishing me, reveling in what they saw, and knowing that I, the dancer, was collared, that I could be owned. Mirus, I recalled, had almost had to drive them away from me, almost as one might force lions from meat. Mirus, too, I recalled, had himself turned away from me, at the end, when we were alone, with a sudden abruptness. I now thought I understood that. He, too, I suspected, like the others, had found me not without interest. Indeed, the first question he had addressed to me in this house, when he had unroped the blanket from about me, and I was before him, naked, my wrists manacled behind my back, was whether or not I was "white silk." Had I not been I think he might then, even as I was, manacled and on the blanket, have put me to his purposes. Now, this evening, he had abruptly turned from me, with surprising abruptness I had thought. I smiled, looking down at the boards of the floor. I do not think he trusted himself to be alone with me. I sensed then that I had great power over men, and that there was much I could do to them, simply by being a female, and myself, and beautiful. And I had this power even in my collar, and perhaps especially in my collar, for this seemed to make me a thousand times more beautiful to them. But then I realized that, ultimately, I had no power, for I was a slave. I could be brought to my knees at a word, and to my back at a gesture. I was afraid to go on the floor. I was afraid to begin the life of the slave. I hoped I would be found pleasing. I hoped I would not be too much beaten.

I opened my eyes, standing there, leaning back against the wall, within the threshold leading out to the floor.

Someone was approaching me.

I knelt.

"Are you all right?" asked Mirus.

"Yes, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master."

"It looks like a good house tonight," he said, looking out through the curtain. I was silent.

"It is nearly the Nineteenth Ahn," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"We will not begin precisely at the Nineteenth Ahn," he said. "We will let them grow a bit restless."

"Yes, Master," I whispered, holding the sheet about me, looking up at him. I a slave in his presence of a free man. He then left. I did not rise to my feet. I did not even know if I could stand.

Outside there were men, Gorean men. I was to dance this night before them. I did not even know if I could get to my feet.

I heard the approach of slave bells, coming from the outer room. I wanted to rise but the strings of the beaded curtain were too quickly flung aside. "Ah," said Sita, "that is where you belong, Earth slut, on your knees." "Yes, Mistress," I said to her. I must address all female slaves in the house of Hendow as "Mistress." That order would be in effect until it was explicitly rescinded, probably, depending on my behavior and progress, in a few weeks. This is sometimes done with new girls. It helps to keep discipline among us. I would then, when the order was rescinded, be able to call the girls, with the exception of the "first girl," by their own names. I would be one of them. Tupita was "first girl." We must all call her "Mistress." I was pleased it had not been Tupita who had come through the curtain and discovered me on my knees, thought, to be sure, had she done so, I would have had to kneel before her. Sita did not like me either. She was an ally of Tupita, and often informed on the other girls.

"You will learn tonight what it is to be a slave, Earth Slut," hissed Sita. "Yes, Mistress," I said. Sita then, with a sound of bells, went down a corridor, toward the kitchen.

I looked after her, angrily, from my knees. She, too, was only a slave! I hoped that tonight some man would not be satisfied with her and would whip her well. Last night, a customer had put Tupita at a whipping ring and expressed his displeasure with her attitudes. She had then begged to please him in an alcove. He had left her only this morning. Mirus had unchained her later, sometime around noon.

I inched over and, on my knees, looked out through the curtain. There were more men in the tavern now. It must be near the Nineteenth Ahn! Again I hid back, frightened, and sick, behind the wall, away from the curtain. Out there, among the tables, I had seen the dancing floor. It was there I would be placed. The space for the musicians was to the left, as I had looked out. The form of dance to which I had been drawn on Earth, for whatever reason or reasons, whether because of some sort of feared innate, ungovernable sensuousness, or extreme deep-seated feminine dispositions or needs, or perhaps even, simply, a sense of what was appropriate for me, whether I wished it or not, considering the realities of my ultimate nature, I had preferred to think of as "ethnic dance." I had been secretly thrilled, of course, but had scarcely dared, even to myself, to think of it as "belly dance," or, as the French have it, "danse du ventre," a term popular with some, with some perhaps as a euphemism, and with others as a sensuous way of expressing the matter, one with the same objective meaning as "belly dancing" but which, for them, perhaps, has rich and special connotations. To be sure, both terms are in a sense reductive misnomers, for in this form of dance, as in other forms of dance, the dancer dances with her entire body and beauty. I had never cared too much for the term "exotic dance" as that term seems to me too broad, in that it covers not only "ethnic dance," if, indeed, it really covers that, but many other forms of dance as well, which seem to have little in common other than their capacity to be sexually stimulatory. But then, to a discerning eye, most, of all, dance, and certainly ballet, for example, is sexually stimulatory. Those who fear and hate sex have, I think, understood these things better than many others, for example, low-drive individuals and the sexually inert. On Gor, dance of the sort in which I was expected to perform, is called, simply, "slave dance." This is presumably because it is a form of dance which, for the most part, is thought to be fit only for slaves, and would be performed only by slaves. The thought crossed my mind that the lovely woman who had been my teacher on Earth had once remarked to me, "We are all slaves." I think that is true. Certainly, however, not all women are legal slaves. Many women are free, legally, whether it is in their best interests or not. Such dances, then, "slave dances," at least on Gor, are not for such women. If a "free woman," that is, one legally, free, were to publicly perform such a dance on Gor she would probably find herself in a master" s chains by morning. Her "legal freedom," we may speculate, would prove quite fleeting. It would soon be replaced, we may suppose, with a new and more appropriate status, that of being a slave legally, a status fixed on her then with all the clarity and obduracy of Gorean law, and fixed oh her plainly as the collar on her neck and the mark on her thigh. "Slave dance," on Gor, incidentally, is a very rich and varied dance form. It covers a great deal more than simple "ethnic dance." For example, it includes dances such as hunt dances, capture dances, submission dances, chain dances, whip dances, and such. Perhaps what is done in slave dance on Gor would count as "exotic dance" on Earth, but, if we are thinking of the actual kinds of dances performed, then there is much in slave dance, for example, story dances, which are seldom, if ever, included in "erotic dance" which, on Earth, and there are forms of dance in "erotic dance" which, for one reason or another, are seldom, if ever, seen on Gor, for example, certain forms of carnival dancing, such as bubble dancing or fan dancing. Perhaps the reason such dances are seldom, if ever, seen on Gor, is that Goreans would not be likely to regard them as being "real dance." They would be regarded, I think, as little more than culturally idiosyncratic forms of commercial teasing. They are, at any rate, not the sort of dance, or the «danse-du-venre» sort, so pleasing to strongmen, which a slave on Gor, fearing the whip, must often learn to perform.

I heard bells coming, from down the corridor, from within. I was still on my knees. Sita hove into sight, returning to the floor. She paused, looking down at me, kneeling there, clutching the sheet about me, frightened. She was naked, except for her collar, and some beads, colorful, cheap wooden beads, slave beads, and her bells, on her left ankle. she regarded me, at her feet, contemptuously. I looked up at her, angrily. Why should she regard me so contemptuously? I was clothed. I had a sheet about me! She wore only her collar, and a few beads, and slave bells! "You" re naked!" I said to her, angrily. Swiftly she crouched down before me, and, with two hands, angrily, there in the hall, near the curtain, tore the sheet back, away from me, thrusting it back, and down, over my calves. "So, too, are you!" she hissed. About my neck had been slung several strands of beads, large, colorful wooden beads, slave beads, of different lengths. To some extent they concealed me, but they, other than my collar, were all I wore.

Then, it startling us both, we heard the ringing of the nineteenth bar. She smiled at me.

Hastily I pulled the sheet up and put it about me as closely as I could, holding it even, in my two fists, high, about my neck.

I looked at her, frightened.

"In a bit," she said, "Tupita and I will put the leash cuffs on you." She then rose up, quickly. Perhaps she had been away from the floor too long. She hurried through the beaded curtain.

I heard a man outside strike the table with his goblet. "The nineteenth bar! The nineteenth bar!" he called. "The nineteenth bar has struck!"

"Bring forth the slave!" called another.

"Bring her forth!" called another.

Another man or two added to this din, by pounding their goblets on the tables. I knelt back, out of sight, near the curtain, frightened, clutching the sheet about me. I was not to be brought forth immediately at the Nineteenth Ahn, Mirus had told me. It seemed that it was their intention that the men should wait, at least for a time. They wanted them, apparently, to be kept in suspense, to become eager and restless, perhaps even impatient. I was certainly in no hurry to be conducted onto the floor. On the other hand, I was frightened, too, if the men were too long kept waiting. Perhaps then they would expect too much. What if there were disappointed? I was a new slave, really. How could I please them, truly? I moaned softly to myself. I did not want to feel the lash.

The men seemed not to be fairly quiet outside. Perhaps most of them did not expect me, really, to be brought out on the stroke of the nineteenth bar. Perhaps those who had smote their goblets on the tables and called for me, had, as much as anything, been voicing a natural disgruntlement at the unwritten customs, which seemed to govern such affairs, at the institution of a time to be set aside for the whetting of appetites. I supposed that there would have to be a judicious sense of timing involved in such matters, that the time must be long enough to bring the audience to a point of eager readiness, perhaps even impatience, without, on the other hand, dallying so long that they became unruly or hostile. I assumed that the house must know what it was doing in these matters. Doubtless I was not the first girl to be conducted out onto the floor, and probably not even the first Earth girl.

"How are you, Doreen?" asked small Ina, crouching down, solicitously, beside me. I looked at her, gratefully. "All right, Mistress," I whispered.

"Good," she smiled, reassuringly.

Ina did not care in the least, really, I was sure, whether I called her «mistress» or not, but we had both agreed, two weeks ago, when we had become friends, both of us in the kitchen, that it would be better for me to do so, as I was the newest girl. We were both afraid that if I called her by her name, and someone heard, I, and Ina, too, if she had not imposed discipline, would have been punished. For example, we would not have wanted to let either Tupita or Sita catch us in such a negligence.

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

"Yes," I said. This is not really a wine, or an alcoholic beverage. It is called "slave wine," I think, for the amusement of the masters. It is extremely bitter. One draught of the substance is reputed to last until the administration of an appropriate "releaser." In spite of this belief, however, or perhaps in deference to tradition, lingering from earlier times, in which, it seems, less reliable "Slave wines" were available, doses of this foul stuff are usually administered to female slaves at regular intervals, usually once or twice a year. Some girls, rather cynical ones, I suspect, speculate that the masters give it to them more often than necessary just because they enjoy watching them down the terrible stuff. This is unlikely, however. There are cheaper and more easily available ingredients for such a mode of discipline than slave wine. "Good," said Ina. "There is then nothing to worry about."

I looked at her. It had not occurred to me, really, that I had "nothing to worry about."

"The time to worry," said Ina, "is if they decide to make you a breeding slave." I nodded.

"You must then drink the releaser," she said.

I nodded numbly.

"I have been told it is quite good," she said.

I looked at her, with horror.

"Really," she said.

Slave wine makes sense in a slave-holding culture, such as Gor. The breeding of slaves, like any sort of domestic animals, and particularly valuable ones, is carefully controlled. As a slave, of course, I could be bred, or crossed, when, and however, my master might see fit. It is the same as with other animals. I lifted my head a little.

Outside the men were becoming impatient. I could hear the striking of goblets more often now on tables. I heard some shouting.

When the girl is taken to the breeding cell or breeding stall, she is normally hooded. Her selected mate is also hooded. In this fashion personal attachments are precluded. She is not there to know in whose arms she lies, or piteously, and in misery, to fall in love, but to be impregnated. And in accord with the prescribed anonymity of the breeding, as would be expected, the slaved do not speak to one another. They may be slain if they do. Their coupling is public, of course, in the sense that the master, or usually, masters, and sometimes others, whether in an official capacity or not, are present, to make any pertinent payments or determinations.

The men outside, it now seemed to me, were becoming unruly.

"Don" t be afraid," said Ina.

"What are men like?" I asked Ina.

"They are glorious, and our masters," said Ina.

"That is not what I mean," I protested.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What will it be like?" I asked. "Will they hurt me?"

"I suppose some of them may hurt you," she said. "And I suppose any of them would hurt you sometimes. But you must expect that. You are only a slave." "I do not mean that," I said. I knew, after all, I was a slave. I knew that I must strive to be pleasing to masters, and perfectly so. I knew that I was subject to discipline. I knew I might be, and would be likely to be, punished for the least infraction in my discipline, the least imperfection in my service and the least failure in my pleasingness. Indeed, I knew that, as a slave, my master did not even need a reason for punishing me. He could punish me for no reason at all, unless perhaps it might simply be that it pleased him to do so then, or, say, it occurred to him to do so then.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Bring out the virgin!" cried a man.

"Get the white-silker out here," called another. "Let us see her!" "I mean will they hurt me!" I moaned.

"You mean when they open you?" she asked.

"Yes!" I said.

"Probably not," she said. "But you may be sore."

"I see," I said.

"Oh," smiled Ina. "You really mean, in general, don" t you? What it" s like?" I put down my head.

"You silly virgin," said Ina. "You really don" t know, do you?" "No," I said.

"Tonight," she said, "will doubtless be hard. Do not worry about tonight. It is the first time. Just try to survive. Tonight it will doubtless be like when a city falls, or one is used for a sex feast."

I looked at her, not even understanding her.

"But wait, slave," she laughed. "Later it will be quite different." I looked at her.

"Later, Doreen," said Ina, smiling, "you will beg and scratch for it." I heard the men shouting outside now. They seemed angry. Then I saw Tupita and Sita coming through the beaded curtain. They carried certain objects.

"Put your wrists out, said Tupita.

The sheet fell a little. Tupita fasted a leather cuff on my right wrist. It was not a lock cuff. It buckled shut. It did have a snap ring on it. Sita fastened a similar cuff on my left wrist. Both of them carried long leather leashes. Tupita, with the snap ring on the leash, fastened the leash on my right cuff, and Sita fastened the other leash on my left cuff. The snap rings on the cuffs themselves, of course, make it possible, if one wishes, for the cuffs to be linked together.

I saw the legs of a man. I looked up, and then, swiftly, the palms of my hands on the floor, the cuffs on my wrists, put my head to the floor before him. Tupita and Sita, similarly, rendered immediate, fearful obeisance. "Stand," said the man, "all of you." We then stood before Hendow, our master. Behind him was Mirus. Mirus had a canvas sack slung over at his belt. Two of Hendow" s girls, Aynur and Tula, were behind Mirus. Each of them carried a deep copper bowl. Aynur" s bowl was empty. Tula" s was filled with oval, narrowly slotted ostraka.

"Hold the sheet more closely about you," said Tupita.

I needed no urging to comply with this request.

Hendow regarded me, possessively. He owned me. Tonight, too, he planned on making money on me.

"You have pretty feet, and ankles, and calves, Doreen," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

The sheet I clutched about me so desperately, came a little below my knees. It was of white silk.

My master stood near me. I trembled.

Tupita and Sita, holding the leashes to my cuffs, stood nearby. Ina, too, was there.

My master took the edges of the sheet I held about myself and pulled it a little to the side, and down, revealing my shoulders. He took from his wallet a ribbon. It was about a foot long, and an inch and a half in width. He looped it about my collar, and jerked it down, snug. The ribbon, like the sheet, was of white silk. I heard the men clamoring outside.

"Do not be afraid," he said.

"No, Master," I said.

He nodded to Mirus.

Mirus, followed by Aynur and Tual, made his way through the beaded curtain. In a moment I heard him quieting the crowd, which was becoming unruly.

The musicians, now, five of them, came from down the corridor. They waited within the curtain.

"Sight unseen," called Mirus to the crowd, "who will try the luck of the first ostrakon? Only a tarsk bit each! Who is first? Who is for the first ostrakon? You, sir! Yes! And you the second! The third! Yes. And you! And you!" I listened to him selling the ostraka.

"Some men," said Hendow, "think the first ostraka are luckiest." "You!" called Mirus. "Yes! And you, yes! Yes!"

In a little bit the first flurry of sales had lessened.

"Now," said Hendow, "we come to the more cautious buyers, those who would like to purchase early ostraka, but will appreciate a bit of reassurance. Too, we have now done, presumably, with the fellows who would buy a chance on anything, as long as it is a chance, and, too, those fellows to whom a virginity itself, regardless of whose it is, is of great interest. They would take a chance on the virginity of a tharlarion."

"Yes, Master," I whispered.

"We have not seen this slave," said a man. "Is she any good?"

"Tell us of her," called another man.

"She is described in the handbills," said Mirus.

"Is she any good?" called the first man, again.

"Tell us of her," called the second man, again.

"Her hair and eye coloring, and complexion, and height and weight, are as mentioned in the handbills," said Mirus. "Other pertinent measurements, too, as you may recall, are specified in the same bills."

I blushed, looking down.

"Is she any good?" repeated the first fellow, insistently.

"She has a lovely face and form," said Mirus.

"But is she any good!" laughed the man.

"That you may determine promptly and firsthand, if you win," called Mirus. There was laughter.

"Seriously," said Mirus, "understand that this is only a virgin slave. In that sense, she will not be much good, probably not for a few weeks. Remember it is only her virginity we are raffling off tonight."

"Yes, yes," agreed several fellows.

"True," called the first man.

"But she is beautiful, and unusually desirable," said Mirus. "Surely it would be a triumph to open her."

I clutched the sheet more closely about me.

"She is a treasure," said Mirus, "and, in time, we expect her to become exceptionally good."

"She is an Earth slut," called a man. "It says so on the handbills. They are all frigid."

"But you know as well as I," called Mirus, "that they do not stay that way." "True," laughed the fellow.

There was general laughter.

I clutched the sheet more closely about my neck.

(pg 179) "We know you, Mirus," said a man. "What do you think of her?" "She was purchased by my employer, your host, master of this tavern, Hendow," said Mirus. "I think you know well his taste and expertise in selecting women." This point seemed to have its effect with the crowd.

"What of you, Mirus?" pressed the fellow who had asked the original question. "What do you think of her?"

"I would purchase an ostrakon, myself, or several," said Mirus, "but if I, an employee of the tavern, were to win, you would all, would you not, every one of you, suspect collusion and duplicity?"

"Yes," said a fellow. There was laughter.

So, I thought to myself, it was not my imagination. Mirus did desire me. That, doubtless, was why he had so suddenly turned away from me last night.

"And so," said Mirus, "I can wait."

I shuddered. I had not thought of it much, but it was true. After tonight, I would be only another of Hendow" s girls. I would not only have been «opened» for his customers, but I would be available as well, as a matter of course, to his men. The use of a tavern" s girls is one of the perquisites of employment in such a place. After tonight, I would have to serve Mirus, and the others, as they might want me. I recalled that in the house of my training the «opened» girls had been available to the guards. The kitchen master, too, I knew had had his eye on me. Usually, laboring there, on our knees, bending over the low, steaming tubs, our arms immersed in the suds to our elbows, cleaning pots and pans, he had had Ina and I remove our kitchen tunics. He had used Ina several times. I swallowed hard. Doubtless I would be put back in the kitchen from time to time. He was probably waiting for me.

"I will take an ostrakon!" called a fellow, he, I think, who had asked Mirus his opinion of me.

"And I!" said another. "And I," called several others.

"Yes, astute sirs," said Mirus. "Come, sluts," said he, doubtless to Aynur and Tula, carrying their bowls.

In a bit, then, these sales had been made.

Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made there way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being tuned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer" s fingers light on the taut skin of his instrument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythm, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for.

Then the musicians were silent.

"Let us see her," called a man.

"Bring her out!" called another.

"Bring her out!" called yet another.

I heard the pounding of goblets on the tables.

"Bring her out!" called another man. "Bring her out!" called another. "Bring her forth!" they cried.

"Are you ready?" asked Hendow.

"Yes, Master," I said.

I felt his massive hand moving the sheet as it closed itself, like a vise, about my upper left arm. I was almost lifted from my feet. It was like being a doll in his grasp. I looked up at him. I was absolutely helpless. My fists still clutched the sheet high about my neck. The leashes on the cuffs went behind me, slack, on each side, and then looped up to the keeping of Tupita and Sita. Tupita on my right, Sita on my left, Hendow drew me beside him through the beaded curtain. Tupita and Sita followed, and, too, small Ina. These, slaves themselves, would present me, a new slave, to the men. But it was in the grip of my master, this perhaps symbolizing his ownership of me, and his authority over me, that I would be brought to the floor.

"Aii!" said a man.

"Aah!" said a man. "Superb!" said another. I heard the intake of breaths. "What did I tell you?" asked Mirus.

I heard sounds of relish and anticipation. I began to tremble. I looked up at my master. He was proud of me! Too, there were conventionized sounds, indicative of interest and approval, the intake of breath through saliva, certain sounds made with the tongue and lips, certain clickings and smackings, and such, of the sort that might cause a free woman to swoon with dismay, but are addressed appropriately enough, and usually to her pleasure, to slaves. Too, I heard whistles and sex calls. Some men, by such noises, summon a girl, running, to their feet. If she is close enough, of course, noises of the preceding sort may also be used for this purpose.

"Please, please sirs," said Mirus, in mock protest. "Desist! This is a virgin! You will embarrass her!"

There was much laughter. This was a splendid joke, I gathered. Who, after all, cares for the feelings of a slave?

"No, woman like that," said a man, "with a collar on her neck, is a virgin!" There was more laughter.

I gathered that that was supposed to be a compliment. I glanced up at Hendow. How pleased he seemed to be to own me. How proud he seemed to be! I was afraid, but I was pleased, too, and grateful, that he was pleased with me. I wanted to be pleasing to him. He was my master.

"But she is a virgin!" laughed Mirus.

"Who cares?" called a man.

There was more laughter.

"Among our guests this evening," said Mirus, gesturing, "is one well known to you all, Tamirus," He indicated a good-natured-looking fellow, sitting to one side in green robes. This fellow lifted his hand, in good humor, to the crowd. "later," said Mirus, "when our lovely chain-daughters in attendance, Tupita, Sita and Ina, whom some of you well know, and intimately, and whom I recommend to you all, as I also do my lovely assistants, Aynur and Tula, have presented to you another chain-daughter, this lovely slut, their sister in bondage, we shall call upon Tamirus for his attestation."

There was a good-humored cheer, acknowledging which Tamirus, grinning, once more lifted his hand. The attestation, I gathered, was little more than a formality, but, I supposed, some of the fellows would want it.

I stood toward the center and about a third forward from the rear of the floor, my arm still in the grip of Hendow, my master.

"I will buy another ostrakon!" called a man. I saw Aynur and Tula glance at one another. Aynur" s bowl was no longer empty. Tula" s now held less.

"We shall reopen the sale of ostraka presently," called Mirus.

The musicians were on my left.

"Hendow," called Mirus, dramatically, "my employer, and dear friend, Hendow, are you not the master of this tavern?"

"I am," grinned Hendow.

There was laughter.

I was afraid my arm would be bruised where Hendow held it. His grip was like iron.

"And you own many women?"

"Yes," said Hendow.

"We see you have a slave in hand."

"Yes," said Hendow.

"Do you own her, as well?" asked Mirus.

"Yes," said Hendow.

"And it is your intention to keep her all for yourself?" said Mirus. "No," said Hendow, grinning.

There was a cheer.

"She is then to have the same status as your other women, and to be available to your customers, and such?" asked Mirus.

"Yes," said Hendow.

There was another cheer.

"She is then to be not a private slave, but a public slave?" inquired Mirus. "Yes!" said Hendow.

This announcement was greeted with another cheer.

"If she is a treasured private slave, noble Hendow," said Mirus, "take her swiftly to your chambers. If she is not, but is as your other women, then, noble friend, we pray you, step back from her, leaving her upon the floor before us." I felt Hendow" s hand release my arm. He stepped back. there was a cheer. I did not know where he was. I supposed he might be somewhere behind me, and to my left. I felt very much alone. To be sure, the other girls were still near me. But we were all slaves, before men.

"Come forward, come forward," said Mirus, coaxingly, beckoning to me. I came forward, in the cuffs and leashes, clutching the sheet, the girls with me. I now stood back about a third from the front edge of the dancing floor. The men could see me very well now. The musicians were now back, and to the left. "I will buy an ostrakon!" called a man.

"And I!" called another.

"And I!" said another.

I watched Mirus take tarsk bits from these men. He dropped the coins into the sack at his belt. From the distention and apparent weight of the sack I gathered he had already taken in several tarsk bits. I supposed that I should feel flattered. I clutched the sheet up higher about my neck. I wondered where Hendow was, somewhere behind me, I thought. When a fellow had paid his tarsk bit Miris would reach into the copper bowl carried by Tula and draw forth from it one of the small, glazed three inches long and an inch wide, thin, flat, brittle, glazed, baked-clay ostraka. They were oval and, along the long axis, slotted. The ostraka are lovely and fragile. A number, the same number, was written at the bottom and top of each item. I winced as Mirus snapped one of the ostraka in two, giving half to the purchaser and throwing the other half into Aynur" s bowl. "Good luck!" he said.

"What is her name?" called a man.

"Doreen," said Miris. "At least that is the name by which she is known to Borko."

I shuddered, and the men laughed, seeing my fear. I did not think the nature of Hendow" s Borko, that massive hunting sleen, was unknown to them.

I heard the snappings of ostraka.

"Bring her over here, so we can see her better, " said a man.

"And over here," said another, on the other side.

"Come, frightened urt," said Tupita. She guided me to the right, where I must stand at the edge of the floor, there, and then further to the right, and back. I then saw Hendow, my master. He was standing back, near the wall at the back of the tavern, near the threshold with the beaded curtain, that through which I had entered.

I was then moved further to the right, in a circular pattern, and I then stood at the back, right corner of the dancing floor, as one would see it from the front. I was then a moment later, conducted again to my right, and I now stood in the vicinity of what would be the front, right corner of the floor, as one would see it from the front. I was near the edge. Tupita apparently wanted me to be close to the men, that my proximity, I suppose, might stimulate them. I heard the snappings of more ostraka.

"Oh!" I cried. I was frightened. I could not pull away. "Stand as you are," said Tupita. "Yes, Mistress," I said. A man, sitting near the edge of the floor, had put out his hand and held my left ankle. he then, with his thumb, rubbed slowly below and behind the anklebone, and then, with his fingers, up, just below the calf. I shuddered at his touc. I went up an inch or two on the toes of my foot. "Look at that," called a man.

"That is no virgin," said another.

"She is a virgin," averred Mirus, snapping another ostrakon, not even looking about. "You will shortly have the attestation," he said.

"I will take another ostrakon," said the fellow who had touched me. "I, too," said another.

My ankles released, Tupita, aided by Sita, again put me toward the center of the floor, near the front, much where I had stood before.

I was trembling. I could not help how I had moved under his touch.

The men looked at me. I heard laughter. I blushed.

There was more laughter.

"In time, however," said Mirus, continuing his transactions, "we expect her to feel at least some minimal slave heat."

There was laughter.

I must have turned red, all of me that was not covered by the sheet, my face and neck, and my calves, ankles and feet. There was then more laughter. Suddenly I wished I was one of those women like leather who hated men but then in a moment I did not really want to be like that either. I was too soft, too lovely, and too feminine for that. I was not that sort of woman. I was a different sort. I was afraid then, very afraid. I sensed vaguely, in my virgin" s belly, the thought terrifying me, what men, such men, might do to me. These intimations, however, did not serve to prepare me even for what, as a matter of course, in even a few weeks, I could be forced to feel, or for what it would be to be made the helpless victim of "slave needs."

"Five!" called a man. "Five!"

"Two here!" said another.

I looked about, from face to face, and then I looked away, not daring to meet such eyes, those of masters.

How faraway seemed the library.

Incredibly, here, on this world. I was owned.

"She is lovely," said a man.

"Yes," said another.

There were sexual noises, and calls. I could not object to these. I was a slave. How powerful seemed these men. I think any of them could have broken me in pieces, like the lovely ostraka. And how fierce they seemed. How they would make a woman obey them! And how they looked upon me, with such eagerness and interest, seeing me as what I was, a slave!

I clenched my fists on the sheet. Beneath it, save for a steel collar and some beads, I was naked.

"Let us have the drawing," urged a fellow.

I felt inordinately helpless, so small and weak, and desired, among such men. I heard the snappings of the ostraka.

How absurd then, and artificial, and unreal, suddenly, seemed Earth, with all its preposterous political myths, its subversion of nature, its insidious conditioning programs, its pretendings to deny the simple, obvious truths of aristocracy, its contrived trammelings of right and power, its desperate attempts to destroy the natural relationships between men and women, to level and mediocratize the diversity and glory of nature, its corrupt machineries of falsification and repression. Men can do with us as they wish, I thought, and Gorean men, at least if the woman is a slave, will. I was not on Earth. I was on a different world. I stood now on a dancing floor in a tavern, in a complex, beautiful civilization, one quite different from my own, one in which strong, proud men had refused to relinquish their natural sovereignty. I did not stand before them as a primitive. I did stand before them, however, in a collar, and in the order of nature.

I felt tension in the leashes attached to the rings of the cuffs I wore. Tupita and Sita, on my right and left, respectively, stood near to me. They had muchly coiled the leashes and their two hands, each on their own leash, and turned in the leash, and gripping it tightly, were about a foot from the rings on the cuffs. I sensed Ina behind me. She took hold of the sheet, at the shoulders, from behind, that it might be lifted gracefully from me.

Earlier Hendow had brought me to the floor, helpless, like a doll, in his grip. He had then, in response to the ritualistic petition of Mirus, removed his hand from my arm, stepped back from me and left me there. The symbolic meaning of this was clear. He was not reserving me for himself. I was also for his customers. I was a new girl in his tavern. I was a public slave.

I felt tension through the cuffs, I heard the tiny noises of the joined rings, those on the cuffs and leashes. I felt the pulling of the leash rings against the rings on the cuffs. My wrists were slowly being drawn to the sides. The men leaned forward. I could not keep my hands on the sheet without opening the sheet myself. Tears in my eyes I released the sheet. Ina then, gracefully, drew the sheet away and, carrying it, withdrew from the floor.

I stood there, my wrists at my shoulders. I could not draw my hands together to cover myself. The cuffs I wore, buckled tightly on me, and the taut leashes attached to them, in the keeping of Tupita and Sita, saw to it. I stood there, then, in collar and beads, displayed, a tavern slave, a paga slave, a public slave, naked on a Gorean dancing floor.

The hands of men smote repeatedly on their left shoulders.

"Yes!" cried several. "Yes! Yes!" "Marvelous!" breathed some. "Superb!" cried others, pounding with their goblets on the tables. I gathered that Teibar, who had picked me for the collar, had known his business.

There was then slackness in the leashes. My arms went to my sides.

There was a white ribbon looped on my collar, and drawn down about it, snugly. "You are naked before me," whispered Tupita. "Obeisance!"

I quickly knelt before the men and put my head to the floor, the palms of my hands, too, on the floor. I heard several of the beads touch the wood.

I was then jerked to my feet by the leashes, and drawn about the floor, being shown to the men on all sides.

Men swarmed about Mirus, who was hard put to satisfy their demands for ostraka. I was then knelt near the center of the floor, and a little toward its front. I knelt as I had been taught, and as the sort of slave I was, the sort of slave I had first learned I was in Market of Semris, a pleasure slave. My hands, my wrists buckled in the leather cuffs, were on my thighs. Tupita and Sita stood near me, and a little behind me. The leashes were slack.

"Alas, generous sirs!" cried Mirus. "The ostraka grow few in number!" I saw men rise hurriedly to move toward him.

"I shall take ten," said a man.

"No!" cried another.

"Let us have the attestation!" cried Mirus, forcing the two fellows apart. Tamirus approached me. He wore green robes. I did not know at that time but this indicated he was of the caste of physicians. That is a high caste. If I had known he was of high caste I might have been a great deal more frightened than I was. Most Gorean take caste very seriously. It is apparently one of the socially stabilizing forces on Gor. It tends to reduce the dislocations, disappointments and tragedies inherent in more mobile structures, in which men are taught that they are failures if they do not manage to make large amounts of money or excel in one of a small number of prestigious professions. The system also helps to help men of energy and high intelligence in a wide variety of occupations, this preventing the drain of such men into a small number of often artificially desiderated occupations, this tending then to leave lesser men, or frustrated men, to practice other hundreds of arts the survival and maintenance of which are important to a superior civilization. Provisions for changing caste exist on Gor, but they are seldom utilized. Most Goreans are proud of their castes and the skills appropriate to them. Such skills, too, tend to be appreciated by other Goreans, and are not looked down on. My virginity had been checked at various times. Teibar had done it on Earth, in the library; it had been done in the house of my training, shortly after I had arrived there; it had been done outside Brundisium, by the wholesaler there, and in Market of Semris twice, once when I had arrived there, by the men of Teibar of Market of Semris, and once before I had left, by Hendow" s man. It had also been checked when I had arrived here, and again, this afternoon, before I had been bedecked in these beads I wore, slave beads.

"How are you, my dear?" asked Tamirus.

"Very good, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master."

"On you back, idiot," said Tupita.

I looked at her, angrily.

By the leashes, pulling up and twisting, to my surprise, handling me quite easily, with surprising expertness, she and Sita pulled me up, half on my feet, and then brought me back, gasping, off balance, and lowered me to my back. I had not realized their skill, nor how easily I could be controlled by the two leashes. There are many tricks, of course, with leashes, in the management of slaves. Tupita held down my right wrist, and Sita my left wrist. "Throw your legs apart or we will do this differently," said Tupita. I obeyed, on my back, on the dancing floor. There are various attitudes in which the virginity of a girl may be checked. The least embarrassing to her is probably this one. Tamirus was careful with me, and gentle. He checked twice, delicately.

"Thank you, Master," I said to him, gratefully.

He stood up. "It is certified by the house of Hendow," he said, "The slave is a virgin."

"Not for long!" called a fellow.

"Thank you for your public confirmation in this matter," called Mirus. Tamirus lifted his hand good-humoredly, graciously, to Mirus, and then, too, to the others in the tavern, and returned to his table. There, waiting for him, was a goblet of paga, doubtless a gratuity for the loan of his expertise. Too, he would doubtless have his choice of Hendow" s women this night, with the probably exception of myself, for we went with the paga. Indeed, I thought he might easily already have made his choice. Near his table, but back a bit from it, discretely, at slave" s distance, knelt luscious Inger, blond and voluptuous, from the north, from Skjern, who had come to Brundisium in the heavy shackles of Torvaldslanders. It was she who had brought his paga. It would doubtless be she who would serve him this night, with the fullness of the Gorean slave. With pen dipped into an inkhorn at his belt Tamirus was signing a paper. He replaced the pen in the inkhorn, which closed the horn, shook the paper a bit and held it up. a fellow near him handed it obligingly to Mirus. I saw Inge inch a little closer to Tamirus, on her knees. Doubtless she had served him before. Perhaps she wished him to purchase her.

"Here is the signed attestation," said Mirus, handing it to one of the fellows near the floor. They began to pass it about.

"Only seven ostraka are left," called Mirus. "Who would like them? Only one, regretfully, I fear, may be now allowed to a customer."

I watched the attestation being handed about the tables.

Men crowded about Mirus.

I no longer had the sheet of white silk about me. It had been taken from me. "Alas," then cried Mirus. "The ostraka are gone!"

There were cries of anger.

"Do not be dismayed, noble patrons of the tavern of Hendow," he called, "for the number of ostraka was determined in advance. If too many were sold, the chances of any particular one winning would be too few. Surely those of you who have already purchased one or more ostraka can appreciate the weight of this consideration."

Several men seemed to offer assent to this.

"And do not forget, noble patrons," he continued, "that although only one may be the first to open this lovely slave, she is now one of Hendow" s women. Accordingly you may all return, time and time again, over the next weeks, and months, to sip her pleasures at your leisure."

"True," said a man.

"And I think I can guarantee," said Mirus, "by all the whips in the house of Hendow, that she will do her best to please you."

There was laughter.

I shuddered. Of course I would do my best to please them. I would have no choice. I was a slave. Too, these were not the men of Earth, so tolerant, so understanding, so considerate, so forgiving, so easily put off, so weak. These were Gorean men. If I was not perfect for them, and whenever, and however, they wished, they would make me pay, and well. On Gor there are many sayings about masters and slaves. One is in the form of a question and an answer. The question is, "What does a slave owe a Master?" The answer is, "Everything, and then a thousand times more."

"Some of you have apparently found this slave of some interest," said Mirus, "for although she has not yet even danced, already are the ostraka gone." "True," said a fellow.

Many girls, I had gathered, do not dance before their virginity, in such contests, is disposed of. Not all girls are skillful dancers, particularly at first, before they have had slave sexual experience. I was to be danced, however, I had gathered, not only because I could, at least to some extent, dance, but also as a form of advertising. Hendow taking this occasion to introduce me to his patrons. He had hopes for me, I had gathered, as a dancer. He hoped, I think, through me, to bring new and additional business to his tavern. I hoped he would not be disappointed in me, as I did not want to be punished.

"May I have the attestation paper?" asked Mirus. He retrieved it from a fellow over to the right. "Thank you," he said. He then waved the paper over his head. "Here is the signed attestation of the noble Tamirus," he said. "She is a virgin!" he then rolled the paper and pointed to me with it. I looked at him. "Behold her," he said, "kneeling there before you, a beautiful slave awaiting her first use master."

I put my head down, trembling. I knelt there, my knees wide, awaiting my first use master.

"Dispense more ostraka!" called a man.

"No!" cried others.

"Which of you hold the winning ostrakon?" inquired Mirus.

"Is it you, sir? You? Or, you?"

"I hope it is me," called a fellow.

There was laughter.

"Doreen," said Mirus.

"Yes, Master," I said, looking up, startled. I had not expected him to speak to me.

"Who will win, Doreen?" he asked.

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

"Speak up, Slave," said he.

"I do not know, Master," I cried, in misery.

"Nor will you," he said.

I looked at him, in consternation.

There was laughter. I did not understand this.

"Do you beg now to dance before your first use master?" asked Mirus. "Yes, Master," I said.

"And before the guests of Hendow?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"And before all present?" he inquired.

"Yes, Master!" I said.

"Adorn her," said Mirus.

"Ina," called Tupita. "Sit," she said then to me, "with your hands on the floor beside you, leaning forward, your right leg advanced."

Ina came forward from the back, through the beaded curtain, with a flat, shallow box. Tupita and Sita removed the leather cuffs from my wrists.

There are some three senses of the expression "virgin dance" on Gor. There is a sense in which it is a kind of dance, rather than a particular dance, which is deemed appropriate for virgins. In that sense I was not expected to perform a "virgin dance." One would seldom see such dances in taverns. The second sense is the obvious one in which it is a dance danced by a virgin, and usually just prior to the loss of her virginity. In that sense it could be almost any dance which serves the purpose of displaying the girl before her initial ravishing. The third sense of the term is that of a specific dance, or type of dance, most often, interestingly, not even danced by a virgin, but usually by an experienced slave. It is not exactly a story dance, but more of a "role dance," a dance in which the slave dances as though she might be a virgin, but knows she is to be ravished, and that she is expected to be pleasing. The dance I was expected to perform was, I suppose, a "virgin dance" in both the second and third senses of the term. Mirus, paradoxically, speaking obviously in the third sense of the term, had told me that I would do better at this sort of dance when I was no longer a virgin.

I felt metal anklets being thrust on my ankles by Tupita and Sita. They put several on each ankle. they then, similarly, placed narrow bracelets on both my wrists, several on each wrists. A long belt of cord, to which were attached numerous metal disks, suspended and shimmering, was then looped twice about me, the first loop secured high, and tight, at my waist, and the second loop, a larger loop, a framing loop, was secured in such a way, in the back, that it would hang quite low on my belly, well below my navel. The purpose of this belt was to call attention to, and enhance, by sound and sight, the movements of the hips and abdomen. With the slave beads I already wore I felt inutterably displayed, and barbaric. I could not move now without the sounds of the beads, the anklets and bracelets, the shimmering belt with its two loops.

"Stand," said Tupita.

I did.

The men gasped with pleasure. I was frightened.

"Prepare to dance, slave," said Tupita.

"Good," said a man.

I stood before them with my hands lifted over my head, the backs of my hands facing one another, my knees flexed. It is a common beginning position in slave dance.

The musicians readied themselves.

I looked out on the men. These were not men of Earth, defeated and tamed by propaganda and lies. These were Gorean men, men like lions. I stood before them, weak and helpless, a woman from Earth, now a collared slave, who must dance for their pleasure.

The czehar player, sitting cross-legged, now had his instrument across his lap. He was the leader of the musicians. He had his horn pick in hand.

I stood barefoot, naked, save for collar and adornments, on the dancing floor of a low-ceilinged Gorean tavern. I must prepare to please masters. I wondered what the men who had worked at the library would think if they could see me now, their so-much-taken-for-granted Doreen, her beauty now at the disposal of masters, men who could break them in pieces. I wondered if they would lament my plight, deploring it with typical, whining, hypocritical cant, or if they, too, would sit there, at those low tables, their blood racing, their eyes alight, becoming men.

Aynur and Tula were now behind me, kneeling at the back of the floor, with their bowls. Tula" s was empty. Aynur held the house" s halves of the divided ostraka. One of them would prove to be the lucky ostrakan." Ina, the flat, shallow box of adornments beside her, was back with them. So, too, with the cuffs and leashes, were Tupita and Sita. Mirus, too, had now withdrawn to the back.

If I did not dance well I did not doubt but what I would be whipped.

I looked out on the men.

One of them would be my first use master. In a special sense my "virgin dance" must be dedicated to him. But, in general, I must dance, too, before the guests of Hendow" s tavern, and, too, before all who were present. This included Mirus, who, I think, had often wanted me. Too, I could see others of Hendow" s men about, come to see the dance, and now, too, to one side, the kitchen master. After tonight, at the tubs, I would doubtless be no safer from him than Ina. Perhaps if I danced poorly? But I did not want to be whipped!

Then I knew I did not want to dance poorly. Out there there were men, real men, many of whom excited and stirred me, even in my virgin" s belly. I could scarcely imagine what it might be to be helpless in their arms, and at their power, as a slave. I was desperately eager to please such men. I wanted to be marvelously exciting and beautiful before them. I wanted them to desire me. I wanted them to want me! Too, I knew many of the girls despised me as a woman of Earth. I wanted to show them, too, women such as Tupita and Sita, what a woman of Earth could do to their Gorean masters, how, she, too, could excite them, and twist them with torments of desire, and make them gasp and scream with pleasure! Too, in my anger at having been abandoned by Teibar, who had been my capture master on Earth, I wanted to dance well. He had let me go! But I had sold for two and a half silver tarsks, on my first sale! I had been purchased by Hendow, of Brundisium, who, I had gathered, was noted in this city for having an excellent eye for the selection of slave meat! Certainly the girls in his tavern, Inger, and Tupita, and Ina, and the others, were superb! Perhaps, I, too, then, was attractive! I saw the men, even now, looking at me! I could sense the heat and desire in them. They would not compromise with a woman like me. They would want her too much. They would throw her to their feet. They would dominate and master me, mercilessly! I was a female. In the arms of no other sort of man could I be fulfilled. Too, let Teibar cry out with anguish if he could find out how desired I would be, and what an excellent slut, what superb slave meat. I, his despised "modern woman," proved to be! I would become a high slave! I would cost a great deal of money! He would not even be able to afford me! Let him scream with the wanting of me, but it would be at the feet of others, in their collars, that I would kneel!

"Are you ready?" asked the leader of the musicians, the czehar player. "Yes, Master!" I said, eagerly.

"Aii!" cried a fellow, pleased, as I began to dance.

The music was rich about me.

"I told you that was no virgin," said a man.

"Who cares?" asked another.

In the dance I had power. In the dance I was beautiful. I saw delight in the eyes of men. I heard gasps of admiration. To be sure I was of a body type, that of the natural woman, short-legged and well-curved, that tends to be attractive to Gorean men, and I think my face, which some had told me was delicate and sensitive, and lovely and intelligent, which so easily betrayed my emotions, may have been pleasing to them, but I think there was more to it than these things. Had it been merely a matter of face and figure I do not think the effect would have been the same. Many things were doubtless involved. One, of course, was that it was a slave who danced. The dancing of a slave is a thousand times more sensuous than that of a free woman because of the incredible meanings involved, the additional richness which this furnishes, the explosive significance of this comprehension, that she who dances is owned, and, theoretically, could be owned by you. Too, she is naked, or scantily clad, and is bedecked in a barbaric manner. This speaks of reality and savagery, of ferocity, and beauty, of dominator to dominated, of master to slave. The dancing of the female before the male, that she be found pleasing and he be pleased, is one of the most profound lessons in all of human biology. Others are when she kneels before him, when she kisses his feet, when she performs obeisance, when she know herself subject, truly, to his whip. Another is when she is seized in his arms, imperiously, and crushed to him. too, I think in this dance I was also as successful as I was because of the sort of woman I was, one who possessed deep female needs, and profound passions. I was ready, even at that time, as I now realize, to have the relentless torches of men set to the tinder in my belly, that slave fires might be lit there, thence by service, submission and love, my condition as slave, and the commands and touches of men, to be fanned, whether I willed it or not, to my dismay and joy, into open conflagrations. But I think, too, more simply, that there are skills involved, and that I was an excellent dancer, even at that time.

I danced, as the slave I was."Here, slut, here!" called more than one man. I teased them, dancing close to them, swaying, my belly alive for them, with the jangling metal pieces, the anklets clashing on my ankles, the bracelets sliding and ringing on my wrists, and then, as they attempted to seize me, drew back, backing away, or whirled, with a swirl of beads, away from them. I picked one man after another out of the audience, seeming to dance my beauty most meaningfully to him. Perhaps he would be my use master. I did not know. Several began to keep the time with their hands, clapping them together. "She is not a virgin," said a man.

"No," said another.

I came about then to the back of the dancing floor. Tupita, and the others were there. "You are good," said Tupita to me, grudgingly.

"I am superb," I said to her, angrily. Then I added, hastily, "Mistress!" I looked to the back of the tavern, where, near the beaded curtain, stood Hendow, my Master, his arms folded. I swayed before him. I wanted to convince him that he had not made a mistake in purchasing me. I saw in his eyes that I had much to learn. I moved a little to my left, dancing before Mirus, who crouched there at the back of the floor, the sack of tarsk bits heavy at his belt.

"Do not change anything," he said to me, "but I would have thought you would dance rather more like a virgin."

I whirled away from him, to my right. Yes, I thought to myself, what are you doing, Doreen? What has gotten into you? Why are you doing this? Why is your belly so alive? Why are you so excited? Why is your body so hot? Why is it moving like this? You are dancing more like a purchasable slut, a common girl from a market, a girl who has been well taught by men and the whip the meaning of her collar, one who has already learned to whimper behind the bars of her kennel and scratch at its walls, than a virgin, fearing, but curious about, her first taking.

"Look," said a man.

"Superb!" said another.

I did not think Mirus would mind if I changed my performance in this fashion, particularly, as I would, later, return to the taunting, sensate splendors of the aroused woman, and then, at the end, to the helpless pleading of the begging female, she who knows herself, ultimately, at the mercy of masters.

Actresses need only be actresses. They need not be dancers. But she who is a dancer must be more than a dancer. She must be an actress, as well.

"Ah, yes," said a man.

Suddenly in my dance it seemed I was a virgin, reluctant and fearful, terrified in the reality on which she found herself, but knowing she must respond to the music, to those heady, sensuous rhythms, to the wild cries of the flute, to the beating of the drum. I then danced timidly, and reluctance and inhibition, but yet reflecting, as one would, in such a situation, the commands of the music. I examined in dismay the beads about my neck, the cords at my waist, my barbarically adorned ankles and wrists. I touched my thighs, and lifted my arms, looking at them, and put my hands upon my body, as though I could not believe that it was unclothed. I pretended to shrink down within myself, to desire to crouch down, and conceal and cover my nudity, but then I straightened up, fearfully, as though I had heard commands to desist in such absurdities, and then I extended my hands to the sides, to various sides, as though pleading for mercy, to be released from the imperatives of the music, but then reacted, drawing back, as though I had seen the sight of whips or weapons. The kaska player, alert to this, reduced the volume of his drumming, and the, five times, smote hard upon the taut skin, almost like the crackling of a whip, to which I reacted, turning to one side and another, as though such a disciplinary device had been sounded menacingly, on all sides, in my vicinity, and then I continued to dance, helpless before the will of masters. Then, as the dance continued, I signified my expression and movement my curiosity and fascination with what I was being forced to do, and the responses of my body, reconciled now to its reality, helplessly obedient now to the music.

I am a basically shy person. But now I was dancing such things as shyness, and timidity, and fear, and curiosity, and fascination, as roles. Like many shy persons I can find myself in roles, and blossom forth in them.

I suddenly by expression and movement, an almost involuntary contortion of my belly, seemingly startling me, and frightening me, appeared to suddenly sense, or glimpse, my sexuality.

"Ah," said a man, appreciatively.

I approached him in the dance, and then others, my belly seeming to register, with its jangling accouterments, their presence. Each time I would draw back from them, but my belly, my hips, would seem to propel me again toward them, or toward yet another. I then felt my hips, and thighs, and breasts, and belly, as these seemed to come alive in the music. And then, throwing my head back, I danced unabashedly as an acknowledged, aroused slave, much as I had before, taunting them, teasing them, delighting in my power, but then, suddenly, as though I sensed my ultimate helplessness, my ultimate inability to achieve total fulfillment without the wholeness of sexuality, without the master and the yielding, which gave meaning to the incipient passions within me. I danced the aroused slave who is the property of the master and begs his touch. "Good," said a fellow.

"The slut is excellent," said another.

Then I realized suddenly that I was actually aroused. The interior of my thighs were hot. My belly, hot and burning, seemed to beg to be touched. I do not know, really, whether I had done this to myself in the dance, which is possible, or if my arousal had merely came upon me in the course of the dance, but I was aroused. I was a helpless, aroused slave! This now was no role. It was what I was.

I returned to the back of the dancing floor, piteously, that I might sway before my master, he in the back, by the beaded curtain, gross, loathsome Hendow. He, I felt, of all those in the tavern, would understand what was now within me. I felt I could keep no secrets from him. it seemed he had a way of looking through me, and seeing whatever was within me, no matter how I might try to hide it. But I did not want to hide this from him. Rather I wanted his understanding. I wanted him to offer me comfort, or perhaps even rescue me from the floor. In my fears it was natural that I should seek him out, gross and loathsome though he might be. He was the one who owned me. He was my master.

Hendow nodded to me, almost imperceptibly. Then, pointing to me, and lifting his finger twice, he indicated I should turn away, and return to my dance, in the center of the floor, facing the crowd.

I knew the music was approaching its climax, and the dance must be concluded. I then, in the coda of my performance, danced helplessness and beauty, and submission, surrendering myself as I, in my collar, must, into the hands and mercies of masters.

As the music concluded I performed floor movements, and the eyes of the men blazed, and fists pounded on the tables, and then the music was done and I lay before them on my back, my breasts rising and fallling as I fought for breath, my body sheened with sweat, my hands beside me, palms up, my knees lifted slightly, my right knee highest, a slave before masters. I heard the roars of triumph, shouts of pleasure. I was frightened. The men were on their feet. There was a thunder of applause, the striking of the shoulders in the Gorean fashion, and, too, the crashing of goblets on the tables. I crept to my knees in the bedlam. I became aware of Hendow standing near me now, and Mirus was to one side. "Back," called Hendow. "Back!" I felt small among the legs of the men. Mirus and Hendow, gently, were forcing men back, away from the floor. Then I was kneeling there, small, between them.

Mirus looked down upon me. Swiftly I pressed my lips fervently, placatingly, to his sandals. "Look up," said he. I looked up, frightened. Would I be punished for altering the dance?

"I did not think you could do better," he said. "I was wrong."

I regarded him, frightened. Would he then be angry? Would I be cuffed, or kicked?

"You did well," he said. "I am pleased."

I almost fainted with relief, and, gratefully, pressed my lips to his sandals. But then a girl is seldom punished for improving her service. Indeed, as I would later learn, girls are encouraged to be rich and creative in such matters. I looked up from my knees at my master. "Is your belly still hot?" he asked. I looked down, blushing. He had known, of course. "Not now, Master," I said. "Well," he said, "you had better start heating it up again."

I turned crimson, my head down, kneeling there, scarcely able to believe what I had heard. To be sure, he was the proprietor of the tavern, and I was his. I felt my head pulled up by the hair, a double handful of it grasped in Hendow" s fist. I was almost pulled up, from my knees. "Did you like her?" he called to the crowd. Most of the men were still standing. There were no women in that crowd other than slaves. Women are on the whole not permitted in paga taverns, unless, of course, they wear collars.

"Yes! Yes!" cried several of the men.

"She will be a dancer in my tavern," said Hendow.

This intelligence was greeted with raucous enthusiasm, shouts, and the pounding of shoulders.

I shuddered.

"Come, see her often!" invited Hendow.

"Have no fear," called a fellow. There was laughter.

"But she is only one of several lovely dancers," said Hendow, "any one of whom is her superior or equal!"

I doubted that that was true.

"All of whom have been chosen to please your senses!"

I would grant the beast, my master, that.

"Come often to the tavern of Hendow," said Hendow, "for the finest paga in Brundisium, and the most beautiful paga slaves, wenches chosen for their luscious beauty and steaming bellies!"

I trembled. Not all paga slaves are tavern dancers, but all tavern dancers are paga slaves.

There was another round of cheering.

"The drawing!" called a man. "Let us have the drawing!"

Hendow nodded to Mirus, and Mirus summoned Aynur to the center of the floor, and near the front, with her copper bowl, laden with the halves of broken ostraka. "Return to your seats!" called Hendow.

As the men sought their places, Tupita, Sita and Ina came forward. Ina brought with her not only the flat, shallow box but a large towel as well. "Sit as you were before," ordered Tupita. I did so, leaning forward, my hands on the floor, my knees up, my right leg advanced. Sita removed the belt from me, with its double loop. Tupita began to take the anklets and bracelets from me, putting them in the box. "Treasure your silly virginity," said Tupita, "for you will not have it long." "Red-silk slut!" I said to her, angrily, adding, "Mistress." "By tomorrow," said Tupita, " you, too, will be only a red-silk slut." "You were beautiful tonight," said Ina.

"Thank you," I said, "Mistress."

With a jangle and shimmering of metal pieces the cord belt, in its length, was dropped by Sita into the box.

Aynur shook the bowl of ostraka. She stirred the contents with her two hands. Delving deeply into the bowl she lifted up handfuls of ostraka again and again, each time letting them fall like showers back into the bowl.

Mirus and Hendow observed her doing this.

The last bracelet was deposited in the box. Sita was lifting the strands of slave beads from my neck, placing them, too, in the box.

"That is enough," said Hendow.

"Yes, Master," said Aynur, desisting mixing ostraka.

I trembled, for the moment of the drawing drew near. Sita lifted the last strand of slave beads from about my neck and put it in the box. Ina, then, began to dry my body, from the sweat of the dance.

I felt very naked then, without even the beads to cover me. "Will I not be given the white sheet again," I asked Ina.

"No," she said, "the time of the white sheet for you is over."

"Let me keep a strand of beads," I begged.

"No," said Ina. "Your use master, in handling you, might break them." "Oh," I said, frightened.

"Too," she said, "we would not want anything to stand between you and your use master when he presses you in his arms."

"No," I whispered, frightened.

"Now you are as nude as any slut," said Tupita, jerking down on the ribbon on my collar, ascertaining that its fixture there was suitably snug.

I saw Mirus, near the front of the floor, draw a red ribbon from his wallet. It was identical in size and shape to the white ribbon I wore on my collar. My use master, I gathered, when he was finished with me, would change the ribbons. This would be significatory of the alteration of my status, informing anyone who might look upon it that I had not been "opened." He also had in one hand the attestation paper. There was a place at the bottom of the paper where a streak of blood, mine, might be smeared.

"Who shall choose the lucky ostrakon?" called Hendow.

"The slave!" cried a man.

"The slave!" "The slave!" cried others.

"Very well!" said Hendow.

I moaned.

Hendow approached me.

"Please, Master," I begged him.

But I saw him draw forth from his belt a half hood. This covers the head to the upper lip.

It was put over my head and drawn back, tightly, and buckled shut. I then heard a lock snapped through rings. It was locked on me, in place. I could not see under the device, at all. In this respect it differed from imperfect blindfolds and resembled the full slave hood. Similarly, although it is usually regarded as inferior to the full slave hood in its security, it tends to be more secure than many blindfolds, particularly makeshift ones, seized up from materials at hand. For example, unlike many blindfolds, it, and in this respect it is similar to the full slave hood, is not likely to become dislodged or loose, even if the girl is handled with great roughness. It does, however, of course, possess certain of the rich and attractive advantages of the blindfold, such as allowing its fair captive to speak, to use her tongue, to lick, to kiss, and so on. "Please, Master," I begged. "Do not make me choose!"

"Do you question me?" he inquired.

"No, Master!" I said, I moaned. I must choose my own rapist.

I felt myself drawn to my feet, and, by the upper left arm, pulled forward, half dragged, to the copper bowl. There I was knelt, and my hands were placed on the ostraka.

"Mix them further, slut," said Hendow.

Obediently, doubtless as the men watched intently, I stirred them about. I felt them in my hands. They had numbers on them, I knew.

"Dig about," said Hendow. "Sift through them. Pick some up, then let them fall through your fingers."

I obeyed.

"Now," said he, "choose one."

I lifted my head in half hood to him, piteously, my lip trembling.

I heard nothing, no reprieve, no rescue. This was not such a world. Here I was a slave, ineradicably, and truly.

I held my head level, although I could see nothing. I thrust my hand into the ostraka, and closed my fingers on one. I lifted it before me. I felt someone, doubtless Hendow, pull it from my hand.

"One hundred and seventy-seven!" he called.

There were cries of good-natured protest, sounds of disappointment. "No!" cried more than one man.

"One hundred and seventy-seven," he repeated.

"There!" called Mirus. "There!"

Someone must have been getting up.

"Hold up the ostrakon!" called Mirus. "Let us all see it!"

"He has it, all right!" called a man, from somewhere out there in the front. There were groans of mock anguish in the house, and laughter, and applause. "Come forward, Sir," invited Mirus. "Claim your prize."

"Take her well, for me!" called a fellow several yards away.

"Make her jump, for me!" laughed another, closer.

I sensed someone coming forward, others perhaps about him, slapping him about the shoulders and back.

There was applause.

"Here, Sir," said Mirus, at my side, "is your prize."

In the hood I could see nothing. I was frightened.

I then gasped, surprised. I felt myself being lifted to the shoulder of a man. He was very strong.

"Use the Ubar" s alcove," said Mirus. "I will bring the attestation and ribbon." I was helpless on his shoulder.

"Lucky sleen!" called a man.

The Ubar" s alcove, I knew, was well fitted with a variety of chains and whips. I felt myself being carried toward it.

"Make her squeak and yell!" called a man.

I was being carried as a slave is often carried, my head to the rear.

"There is only one who is first," called Hendow, "but we will draw forth fourteen more ostraka!"

There was a cheer.

I did not understand this. I was helpless on the man" s shoulder.

"Then there will be a free round of paga for all!" he said.

This generosity was greeted with another cheer.

I felt the man step up, over the high threshold of the alcove. He, then put me down on soft furs, on my back, within the alcove.

"Here is the paper, and the ribbon," said Mirus.

I heard the movement of paper. Then Mirus, I gathered, withdrew. I heard a paper being put to one side. I then heard the leather curtains of the alcove being drawn closed, and buckled shut. Within the alcove I supposed there would be some light, probably from the small, tharlarion-oil lamp on its bracketed shelf, on the wall to the left, as one enters. I heard his garment being cast aside. I supposed the lamp would be lit, that there would be light for him. Men usually like to have some light in such a place, that in its soft glow they may see how beautiful are the slaves. Such alcoves, incidentally, are quite comfortable. They are not close, or stuffy. In them there is a subtle but efficient circulation of air. Air, for example, can enter at the threshold, in the vicinity of the curtain, rise, and exit through various inconspicuous vent holes, generally high in the walls. I wondered, if there were light, if I looked pleasing to him, lying on the furs. I gasped, as he knelt across my body. I had never had a man do this before. I could not move. I felt my hands pulled up and snapped into manacles, apart, at the sides of my head. His knees were on either side of my body. I pulled a little at the manacles and chains. I was chained! I felt terrified, and trapped, as indeed I was. I had been chained before, many times, of course, in my training. But this was not training! Then to my surprise he drew back from me, crouching then, or kneeling, I think, beside me. He was on my right. I shuddered. I had felt his body. I turned to my left side, away from him, as I could, and drew my knees up, as closely as I could, to my belly. I whimpered, as I understood that this, too, exposed me as a slave to him, but I did not know what to do! It seemed, suddenly, that all my training had fled from me, that it had gone from me, that I could remember nothing. I felt his hands take my ankles, one in each hand, and, by means of them, not gently, he turned me again to my back, and then flung apart my legs. I lay there then, in this attitude before him, helpless in the chains, and the darkness of the hood. He had not spoken to me, not I to him. I did not realize this at the time but he would not do so either, nor would the others, unsuspected by me at this time, who would him this night. By custom my initial ravishings as a paga slave in Brundisium would be performed in anonymity. This custom is dictated by considerations similar to those involved in the hooding of mating slaves, considerations having to do with the preclusion of interpersonal complications. I heard a whip being removed from the wall. I lay there, trembling. I grasped the chains, above the manacles. I did not want to be lashed! But the whip was thrust to my lips. Eagerly, lifting my head, I licked and kissed the whip. I did not want it used on me. My ardor in this matter, and this may, I suspect, have mollified him to some extent. For he then, delicately, gently, tested me. He grunted, surprised.

"Yes, Master," I said. "I am a virgin!"

he then seemed to have drawn back for a time, perhaps kneeling there, thinking. I do not think, now, he had believed that I was really a virgin, in spite of the attestation, and such, and I do not think either that my virginity had really been of great interest to him, whether or not it was actual. He had been angry, I now think, that I had been behaving in a timid, or virginal, fashion with him, perhaps to secure some gentleness of treatment, when I was not really a virgin at all. Perhaps mollified then to some extent by my placatory behavior in kissing the whip he had decided to take the time to make test of my virginity rather than simply and with terrible force utilizing me, moving aside whatever obstacle, if any, might have attempted to impede the progression of his mastery. Master?" I asked.

To my surprise, then, I felt a shackle put on my left ankle. he then removed the manacles which had been on my wrists. I heard the whip cast to the side. "Master?" I asked. I knelt, rubbing my wrists.

He then, apparently crouching near me, took me with extreme gentleness into his arms. I began to tremble. I felt his lips at the left side of my neck, above the steel collar locked there. "I am afraid, Master," I whispered.

He soothed me with a kiss on the shoulder. I was grateful, but, too, I could feel the heat of his breath there, it making me uneasy, and disturbing me, and I could sense the strength of his arms.

"Oh, master," I sobbed. "Master!"

One of his hands was behind my back. With the other hand he indicated I should rise up a bit, and I did so, and he placed the hand then behind my knees. He then, lifting me, and gently inclining me backwards, supporting me with his hand behind my back, lowered me gently to the furs. I then lay there, on my back, in the hood, before him.

I felt his hands lift up my right ankle, that which did not wear the shackle. I felt his lips on my ankle. his hands were very strong. I tried to pull back a bit, uneasily, but could not do so. He continued to hold my ankle, and kiss my leg. I moved my left ankle, in its shackle. I heard the tiny sounds of the links of the chain, running between the shackle and its ring. I pulled back my left ankle, and lifted it, frightened, alarmed by the sensations I was beginning to feel, and learned what limitations had been placed on its movements, imposed by the metal impedimenta whose prisoner I was. I could not leave the alcove of course, but I had been permitted slack, enough to kick, it seems, as in the throes of passion or, helplessly, as though to hold on for dear life, to clench my legs about a master" s legs or, if I were pulled down, closer to the ring, his body. His touches and kisses were now disturbing me, but he was very gentle. "Oh, Master!" I said.

The flesh behind the knee and above it was very sensitive.

He was patient.

"Thank you, Maser," I said, gratefully.

Over the next quarter of an hour or so he also addressed his attentions to my other leg, but desisted in his ministrations when he had come midway up the interior of my thighs.

"Master!" I breathed.

Then he was kissing my hands, their backs, and kissing and licking the palms, and then moving up the interiors of the wrists, and forearms. In another quarter of an hour or so, he had come again to my neck, near the collar, where he had first kissed me, and then, slowly, kissed my shoulders. I lay there, frightened, wanting to respond. I sensed his lips near mine, by the feel of his breath. I lifted my head a little, and kissed him, timidly, gratefully. Then I felt his head, and hair, below my chin. "Ohh," I said. Then he kissed and licked, and caressed me about the sides, and back. "Ah," he said, appreciatively was not really responding to him, or at least in no overt way I was really aware of, but I think he did not really mind this, or, at the time, expecting anything much different. I think he did find me beautiful. And I think he took pride in the simple handling of such a slave.

Then he was kissing me about my hips and belly, and then, much lower, above the midpoint of the interior of my thighs.

"Master," I said.

"Oh!" I said. "Oh!"

His hands, and his tongue, and his kisses, were unbelievable! Suddenly I lifted my hips to him. "Master!" I begged. "Master!"

His large hands were on me, gripping me, holding me an inch to two above the furs. I felt his thumbs. They pressed deeply into me, at the sides of my belly, but did not hurt me. They only held me fixed in place. I could feel the strength of him. I could not even think of escaping that grip.

"Master!" I begged.

I knew then that I belonged in a collar, and so, too doubtless, did he. "Oh!" he said, frightened. I was tense, waiting. "Oh," I said, softly, frightened.

He was so strong!

"Oh!" I said, softly.

He kissed me, gently, holding me.

"It" s done," I whispered. "It" s done!"

He kissed me again.

What a fool I am, I thought to myself, and what a fool he must think me. Of course, it has been done!

I had sensed the parting of that tissue, its giving way, but it had not hurt. I had expected it to hurt. It had not hurt!

"I am longer special," I said. "I am now only another girl."

He laughed.

What a small thing it had been! There had been nothing to it! What an absurdity to be concerned over so small a thing, so trivial a thing, I thought. I knew that in some women, of course, the matter was not so simple. I was pleased, and relieved, accordingly, that in my case it had all happened so quickly, so simply, so painlessly.

He kissed me again.

I had been opened, I though. I was now "red silk!"

I was still, of course, locked in his arms. I felt his power and surgency. He then began to make use of me.

"Master!" I gasped.

Perhaps his patience was then at the end, or perhaps he felt he had waited long enough, or perhaps he found me, suddenly, too beautiful to resist. I did not know, but he then began, with apparently little regard for me, to content himself.

I clung to him, startled.

It may be, of course, that this was merely another kindness on his part, that I be now reminded of my status, that I wore a collar, that I was naught but a slave, I did not know.

"Yes, Master!" I whispered.

I suspect I was not the first girl he had opened. He realized, I think, as I did not, at that time, that at this time there would be severe limitations on my capacity to respond to him, limitations finding herself the victim of helpless slave needs.

"Master!" I cried.

I clung to him. I jerked my legs. I felt the chain on my left ankle. What can we be but vessels of pleasure to such brutes, I thought. To be sure, the slave must sometimes expect to be used with complete unilaterally. This feature is attendant on her condition. She is, after all, only a slave. Most slaves, incidentally, welcome this, for they treasure their bondage, many of them dearly than their life, and they know that without it, and such things, they cannot be true slaves. Even such a service, perhaps paradoxically, they find exciting and fulfilling. Too, after one has been a slave for a time, it is difficult to be touched by a man without becoming responsive, and extremely so. Thus a girl is often grateful for her master" s touch, and weeps with pleasure in her usage, even when he is not concerned in the least with her. This is a part of her helplessness, and having been made the prisoner of her slave needs.

"Ah," he said, as though interested.

Could I actually be responding to him, this brute who had opened me in a Gorean tavern, this monster who had but a moment ago red-silked me!

"Oh, Master!" I whispered, startled.

Oh, he had been patient, he had been kind, I knew. He could have cuffed me and torn me open in an instant but he had not done so. I was grateful. But now what was he doing to me? What were the sorts of things I was beginning to feel? To be sure, as I would later understand, these were, in their depth, only incipient sensations, little more than the hints of sensations, but even so I did not know now, how to cope with them. Something here seemed to be different now from the simple, intimate, unbelievable, unspeakable deliciousness of his earlier attentions. Something within me that I now sensed, something deep in my belly but which seemed to radiate out through my whole body, now hinted obscurely of something different, of sensations and feelings, of yieldings and submissions such that I hastily attempted to drive even the thought of them from my mind.

"Ah!" he said again.

I could not help how my body had moved, or how it had gripped him!

We are the submitted and the conquered, I thought. Otherwise we cannot be ourselves!

I tried to push hum away, sobbing. But he pressed me the more closely to him. My hips moved.

He laughed.

I hated him!

"What are men going to do to me?" I asked. "What are they going to make me?" He tapped with his finger on my collar. He put his hand on my left thigh. I realized, suddenly, that was where my brand was.

"I am already a slave," I sobbed, " totally a slave!"

He laughed, softly. I shuddered. I gathered I had not yet begun to learn my slavery.

Then he began again, having granted me this respite, to make use of me. "Oh," I said, softly. "Oh!"

It is difficult to make clear the wholeness of this experience, even within its limitations, for as I now understand, and I am sure he understood at the time, it provided me with little more than an inchoate intimation of how I might be subdued and owned in the arms of men. But even so, even at that time, the experience was a startling, astonishing whole. That is something I think many men do not grasp, the wholeness of the sexual experience for the woman, its enhancement and deepening by the beautiful and intricate context, that it is not simply a matter of skillful epidermic stimulations. If it were, for example, I would never have been drawn to the beauties of ethnic dance. Here, of course, in a Gorean alcove, and given our condition, he free, I a collared slave, who must submit and obey, there was just such a totalistic context. Indeed, the situation of bondage itself is such a context.

"Oh!" I cried, softly. And then I could not believe, suddenly, how tightly I was held. How helpless we are! "Oh," I said, then, and for the first time felt the imperious casting forth within me, seeming to fill my helplessly held body, of a man" s triumph. How precious suddenly seemed such stuff to me. We could not make it. We could get it only from men. I had little doubt that in the arms of such a man, had I not had "slave wine," I would have been impregnated. How could my body have resisted such floods of seed? But I knew I had little to fear, or hope for, in such matters. My breeding was not under my own will. It was under the will of masters. It would be controlled, and supervised, and regulated, as carefully as that of any other domestic animal. I needed not fear pregnancy until the matter had been decided otherwise by masters.

I clung to my use master. I did not want him to let me go, not yet.

Then I was afraid and angry. With what insolence, with what arrogance, he had cast his seed within me! And I must endure such things, as it pleased him! how he had held me, and then loosed himself within me! What arrogance, what insolence! He had not asked my permission. He had simply taken me, as a slave might be taken! Did he not know I was from Earth? Did he think I was only another Gorean girl? But I realized, then, that here I was perhaps even less than a Gorean girl, and, at best, only another slut in a collar.

"Please do not let me go, Master," I begged. "Hold me, please." He then for a time kept me in his arms.

I was not displeased to be a woman.

It was what I wanted to be, if there were such men.

I clung to him. He kissed me. "Thank you, Master," I whispered. It was lonely and dark inside the hood, but his body was warm. In a way I was pleased to be hooded. Otherwise I might have fallen in love with him. As it was, and this was according to the will of masters, I could not relate to him as a woman to a man, but only as a woman to any man, or men.

I heard sounds in the tavern outside.

I knew I was now a red-silk paga slave. I heard slave bells outside, the sort sometimes fastened on slaves, on their ankles, their wrists, their collars. Perhaps those I heard were bound on Tupita" s or Sita" s well-turned ankle. I clung yet more closely to him.

I was troubled.

He had made me begin to feel sensations, though doubtless I was now ready for them, which had alarmed me, sensations which spoke to me of female helplessness, and of female helplessnesses beyond them, and perhaps even beyond them, intriguing, fascinating helplessnesses, helplessnesses dimly sensed and terribly feared, yet somehow desperately longed for, of which I could scarcely conjecture.

He then thrust me away.

I lay there, in the darkness of the hood. I felt a coolness on my left thigh, like a thread. I had not noticed it before. I knew what it must be. I did not touch it.

I heard him dress.

He came back and, I think, crouched beside me. I felt his thumb rubbing on the interior of my left thigh. I then heard him pick up a sheet of paper and, seemingly, clean his thumb on the paper. He then rubbed his fingers on my thigh and lifted them gently to my mouth. "Yes, Master," I said. Obediently I licked his fingers, finding on them, sweet with sweat and oil, the dampness of my virgin blood. I thus, being granted the permission of my use master, tasted the fruits of my own first ravishment. The paper on which he had smeared blood was doubtless the attestation paper, the blood being presumably put at the bottom, in the place for it.

I sensed him stand.

I knelt before my use master. I put out my hand to him.

He had been kind to me. He had been patient with me. He had been gently, even in the rupturing of that fragile tissue, my sundering. I sought his legs, and, finding them, groping, put down my head, kissing his feet. "Thank you, Maser," I said.

I heard a slave girl crying out with pleasure outside. I shuddered. She must be being used so simply as having been flung across one of the tables, perhaps her hair and back in spilled paga.

I lifted my head, in its hood, to him. "Do not leave me," I begged. "Stay with me!"

He said nothing. This was in accordance, of course, with the custom in Brundisium, and in certain other cities, that in the light of which I had been given my first ravishing.

I then heard the snap of a slave whip outside the leather curtain, rather close to it, and a girl" s cry of pain. "We are going to the alcove, slave!" I heard. "Yes, Master!" she cried. It was Sita. I heard her then, probably, judging by the jangling of slave bells, being conducted, stumbling, to an alcove. Probably he had her had at his hip, held by her hair. "Yes, Master!" she was weeping, her voice fading. "Yes, Master!"

"Please," I begged, frightened. "Please!"

He was silent.

"Please, Master," I wheedled.

He had been kind. It seemed possible to me then, that he might be weak, like the men of Earth, that perhaps I could manipulate him. What a fool I was! Did I not understand he was a Gorean male?

"Please, Master!" I begged, prettily.

His only answer was a cuff that threw me to one side, startled, where I crouched, disbelievingly, at the end of the chain. Then he took me and thrust me on my back on the furs and, as he had before, when we had first come to the alcove, manacled my hands at the sides of my head. He then removed the shackle from my left ankle.

My lip had been cut by his blow. I could taste blood there. "Master?" I asked. Then I felt him, and I could not have stopped him, had I wished to do so, as I was chained, remove the white-silk ribbon from my collar. In a moment he had fastened something else there, in its place, doubtless another ribbon, doubtless the red-silk ribbon which had been given to him earlier by Mirus. He jerked it down on the collar, snugly.

He was then, I think, crouching near me. I pulled at the manacles. I was helpless. There was another trickle of blood on my leg. He put his thumb in this and scrawled a «Kef» on my belly, the first letter of "Kajira." Then I felt the whip thrown beside me. "Master!" I wept. "Forgive me, if I have been displeasing, Master! Please, forgive me!" I recoiled, whimpering, from a kick from the side of his foot. Then I heard him unbuckling the leather curtain, and leaving. I was helpless in the alcove. "Master!" I called after him. "Master!" I tried to rise but, by the chains, was prevented from doing so. I sand back, miserable, on the furs. He had been kind to me, and the first thing I had tried to do was to take advantage of him, to bend him to my will. I had then been cuffed. Then he had chained me. Too, he had thrown the whip against me, and had kicked me, showing his contempt for me, a caught, would-be manipulative slave. Then he had left. I moaned. What a fool I had been! he was Gorean! Had I not understood that it was I who was the slave, and he the master? Perhaps the whip had been flung against me to remind me of my subjectability to it. Or perhaps he had flung it there that my master, or his man, might understand, when he came to unchain me, that at the least failure in my pleasingness I was due for a whipping. Yet he himself had not used it on me. That was perhaps yet another evidence of his kindness, or of his understanding and patience with me, his recognition that I was still naught but an ignorant and naA?ve novice with respect to the rigors of my bondage. Had I irritated him further, however, I do not doubt but what he himself would have used it on me. As it was, he had not been pleased when he had left me. If he were to use me again, in the future, I feared he would be merciless with me, treating me as the foolish, and errant Earth woman I had been.

"Master?" I asked. I had heard the curtain being parted. "Master!" I said, elatedly. "Master?"

but then I felt my ankles flung apart.

"Oh!" I said, suddenly and smoothly penetrated, deeply.

I lay there, absolutely still.

This was not the same man!

I did not dare to move, so penetrated.

He made an animal noise.

"Master?" I asked.

I was very alive to him, so much so that I was unwilling to move.

"Dance," said Tupita, apparently from the opening of the alcove. There was laughter there, too, mostly that of men. The curtain I realized had not been drawn!

"He wants you to dance, slave," laughed Tupita. "You are a dancer. Go ahead, dance."

I moaned.

"Did you see the «Kef» on her belly?" asked Tupita.

"Yes," said a man.

"It belongs there," she said.

"Yes," agreed another fellow.

"There is now a red-silk ribbon on your collar, Doreen," said Tupita. "What is the meaning of that?"

"That I have been red-silked, Mistress," I said.

"Yes," said Tupita.

"Close the curtain, Mistress!" I begged.

"Why?" asked Tupita. "Are you modest?"

"No, Mistress," I sobbed. Slaves are not permitted modesty.

"You are now only a red-silk slut, Doreen," she said, "no different from the rest of us!"

"No, Mistress," I said.

"And do not forget it," she said.

"No, Mistress," I said.

There was laughter.

"Do you hear pounding?" asked Tupita.

"She has already been pounded," said a man.

There was laughter.

"Listen," said Tupita.

I could then hear pounding. It was far off, somewhere perhaps in the front of the tavern.

"So you hear it?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Do you know what it is?" she asked.

"No, Mistress," I said.

"It is your attestation paper, together with your white ribbon, being nailed to the wall in the vestibule of the tavern," she said. "It is there now with mine, and Sita" s, and those of some of the other girls."

I did not respond.

"But not with Inger" s," said a fellow.

"No," laughed Tupita.

Several of the fellows laughed. Inger, from distant Skjern, had been taken by Torvaldslanders. She was voluptuous. Too, Torvaldslanders seldom deliver virgins to the slave markets.

"You are fortunate that I am not a man?" laughed Tupita.

"Mistress?" I asked, puzzled.

"In the case of a man, the repetition of a command is commonly a cause for discipline."

"A command, Mistress?" I asked, frightened.

"Yes," she said.

I knew that Tupita was having her sport with me, but, too, I knew that she might beat me tomorrow, in the slave area. As first girl she had that privilege. I did not want her to whip me, or switch me, or have the other girls put my ankles over the low bar and tie them there, and then have her spank the soles of my bare feet with the springy, flat board. It is very painful, and it is hard to walk after it.

"What command?" I asked, frightened.

"Dance," laughed Tupita.

"Mistress, I am chained!" I said. "I am held!"

"Dance," said a man, from the entryway, and a grunt of pleasure from him in whose arms I lay slave captive.

I had been commanded by a man. I obeyed immediately, or did my best to obey. If a command needs to be repeated, as the saying goes, the girl needs to be punished. If the girl thinks, however, that the command may have been, say, an inadvertence, or mistake, or that the master might relent, or something along these lines, she might, say, beg or inquire. She is reassured of the intent and seriousness of the command if, for example, she is asked if the command need be repeated, which eventuality she will presumably be anxious to avoid. If she has, sincerely, and not as a girl" s trick, not understood the command, or has not heard it, or fears she may not have heard it correctly, she may also inquire into the matter, of course, and normally without penalty. In such cases the repetition of a command is not regarded as cause for discipline. A girl is seldom punished for trying to be pleasing, at least at first. If her efforts continue to fail, however, that is a different matter. The whip is an absolutely marvelous instructional device for improving female conduct.

I had not even wanted to move, him so within me!

But I was a slave. I must obey.

"You wriggle well, Doreen," called Tupita.

I cried out with misery.

"Come, see the slave dance!" called a man from the entryway.

"Do not stop, slut," warned Tupita.

I moaned.

I had not wanted to move, him so within me! But now, choicelessly, I moved. He was mostly quiet within me. It was I, the slave, who must move! I twisted and writhed. I then became aware, to my horror, that I was being forced to arouse myself upon him.

I whimpered in protest.

"Come, look," called a fellow. "She is getting hot!"

I sensed men crowding about the entryway.

"No!" I sobbed. I was a woman of Earth. I must remain frigid! I must not be "hot!" But then I realized I was no longer a woman of Earth. I was now only a Gorean slave.

"Please him," said Tupita.

"Yes, Mistress!" I sobbed. "Yes, Mistress!"

"Ai!" growled the brute who held me like chains.

The techniques of ethnic dance, as is perhaps no well-kept secret, because of the movements of the hips, the control of the muscles of the abdomen, and such, have delicious applications in the making of love. It is no wonder that this form of dance, for centuries, was commanded by emirs, pashas and caliphs of their concubines and slaves. Too, of course, it is initially arousing to the woman, for she understands that she is dressed as a slave, is displayed as a slave and must dance as a slave. And later, of course, if she is truly a slave, she must satisfy, and with dividends, the passions she has aroused in her dance. If a woman could be a dream of pleasure to men, let her learn this form of dance.

"Ai, Ai!" said the fellow.

I then begun to feel incredible sensations, sensations I did not fully understand.

But then he gripped my hips so I could scarcely move, and pulled me tight to him, and was eager, surgent and eruptive within me! Then he withdrew, with something like a snarl and a smacking of his lips. I feared I had been bruised. "Master?" I asked. Would he leave me, so soon?

"I am next!" said a fellow.

I then again felt my ankles flung apart. I heard Tupita laughing.

"Oh!" I said, forcibly entered.

"Dance," called Tupita.

I recalled, suddenly, what I had heard, from back on the floor, behind us, when I was being carried on the shoulder of my first use master to the alcove, that fourteen more ostraka would be chosen!

"Dance!" laughed Tupita.

Again I danced.

It must have been near morning, I lay alone now in the alcove, now on my belly, my hands manacled apart, at the sides of my head. One of the men, earlier, when I was on my back, had put me in left-ankle shackle, had freed me of the manacles, had tied my hands behind my back, and had then had me please him, astride him. he had then, afterwards, left me lying on my side in the alcove. The next fellow had freed my hands of the thongs, put me on my stomach, and chained my wrists apart, at the sides of my head, much as I had been before, for much of the evening, but now turned, now on my stomach, and had then freed me of the ankle shackle.

I had lost count of the men, but there had doubtless been, counting my first use master, the full fifteen who had purchased winning ostraka.

It was quiet outside in the tavern.

I did not remember if the curtain had been drawn shut by my last use visitor, when he had left, or if he had left it open.

I lay there alone, on my belly, chained.

The former Doreen Williamson" s virginity had been raffled off. And so too, had her first uses. I supposed that Teibar, who had been my capture master, who had caught me on Earth, and brought me here to be a slave, would have found that amusing, his "modern woman" being taught her sex on Gor.

I rubbed my belly a little on the furs. I held the chains above the manacles close about my wrists.

Yes, I thought, I had been taught something about my sex tonight. I supposed I stank of the uses of men.

Outside, near the front of the tavern, indeed, in its vestibule, I gathered, nailed to a wall there, with other such objects, was my attestation paper, with its smear of my virginal blood upon it, and the white ribbon which had been on my collar.

There was now another ribbon, I gathered, tied on my collar, one of red silk. I was now, at any rate, "red silk."

I wondered what the men who had worked at the library would have thought. I wondered if they, too, would have crawled to me, and put me to their purposes. It would be their right, of course. I was now a slave.

I lay there, troubled.

I wanted to cope with my feelings. I was confused. The first fellow had been, on the whole, very gentle and understanding with me. I thought I would always be grateful to him for that. he could have been quite otherwise, for I was only a collar-slut whose virginity he had won in a raffle. After he had removed my virginity he had treated me with much less courtesy and patience. In his arms, after my virginity had been taken, I had had the first genuine intimations of what it might be to be a slave in the arms of a man. In the arms of the second fellow I had begun to feel incredible sensations but he had then, eager in his own pleasures, seized me helplessly to him, and, as I was held, startled, the helpless vessel of his pleasure, used me, and left. In such a usage, and public as it was, before Tupita, and others, I was well reminded that there was a steel collar on my neck. But I was then, too, to my transitory shame, until I recalled I was a slave, and such feelings were required of me, more than ready for the next man, and then, more eagerly then I perhaps now cared to recall, I «danced» for him. Helpless, and in chains, hooded, almost alone with my sensations, I was discovering my sexuality, the root sexuality of the used female. To be sure, as I would later discover, I was only doing something like beginning to respond to them. When the fourth man had entered the alcove, and he seemed to be just standing there, not yet touching me, I had actually lifted my belly to him, begging. He had laughed. I had then sunk back in a paroxysm of humiliation and embarrassment on the furs, overcome with shame, from my grotesque anti-sexual Earth conditioning in which female merit is regarded as being threatened or diminished by any sign of truly deep sexual needs, or any evidence of intense, genuine interest in the opposite sex. But if I wanted their touch why should I not ask for it, or beg for it? As a slave what else could I do? Too, even if my needs and my interests, and the incredible depth and intensity of my desires proved that I was «worthless» and without "merit," I did not care! Of course I was worthless, though, to be sure, men would pay hard cash for me! I was worthless because I was only a property! I was worthless because I was bond! I was worthless because I was the sort of woman who could be put upon a slave block and be sold! I was worthless because I was only an owned animal! Of course I did not have «merit»! I was beyond «worth» and "merit," of those sorts. I was only a slave! But thus I could be as free, and piteous, and begging, and lewd, and loving, and sexual as I wished! I had nothing to conceal, nothing to keep secret. I belonged to my master, all of me, my thoughts, my love, my body, everything I was and could be! I lay there for a moment moaning in shame. But then he had crouched near me and, with a few deft, unbelievable touches, had me, in spite of myself, leaping and squirming before him. Then I realized he had laughed at me not so much to humiliate me, thought perhaps he had enjoyed doing so, as I was an Earth woman, but because he was amused at my obvious readiness, unusual in so new a slave. I gathered that this vitality, or responsivenesss, coming from so new a branded slut, must be surprising. Then he entered me, and I think I pleased him.

I lay there, trying to cope with my feelings.

To some extent, doubtless, the conditioning to which I had been subjected on Earth was attempting to war with the liberties of my bondage. Indeed, some women try to carry the frigidities of their freedom into their bondage, but these are soon whipped out of them. They are swiftly taught that they are now a different sort of woman. then, choicelessly, gratefully, they yield eagerly to their slavery. You see, some of the "liberties of bondage" are also, in a sense, "necessities of bondage." For example, not only is a woman free then to open herself fully to the ravishings of masters, to be participatory, to feel as deeply, and profoundly and excitingly as she can, to be as responsive and orgasmic as possible, but she must do so. Such things are commanded of her. Similarly the authenticity of her responses can be recognized and tested. And failure to obey, and be pleasing, can be cause not only for grievous punishment, but death. Accordingly, my Earth conditioning could do little more now than attempt to war with my needs and urges. In each hour on Gor it seemed to be becoming less and less effective. My needs, and my reality, were now revealing its lack of soundness, its historical eccentricity, indexed to outmoded ideologies and conditions, its idisyncrasy, its absurdity, making it obsolete, and overthrowing it. In a natural world it was, without its constant reinforcements, crumbling. Too, as a slave, I must, whether I wished to or not, ignore it. To be sure, I think, in the final analysis, it was being primarily undermined by so simple and profound a thing as my own womanhood. Its poverty, vacuity and falsity I think I had recognized long ago, even on Earth.

I lay there on the furs, wondering about my feelings and responses. I wondered almost who the girl was, who lay there. She seemed very different from the former Doreen Williamson, who had worked in the library, so long ago, now, it seemed. To be sure, she still had the name «Doreen», but that now was her only name, and she had it only as a slave name, a name given to her as an animal is given a name, a name put on her, like a collar, by the will of a master, a name to which she must then, like any other named animal, respond, and in all ways. I was still hooded.

I lay there, and thought about the feelings I had experienced. Putting aside occasional episodes of chagrin or shame, understandably contingent on my Earth conditioning, as I was faced with various indisputable evidences of my vitality and responsiveness, I had found myself subjected to an astonishing variety of mixed emotions and feelings. Sometimes I had been confused by the unfamiliarity of these feelings, and sometimes delighted, and intrigued. Too, sometimes I had felt a desperate longing for them to continue, and had been eager for them, and others, some charming, and subtle, and some almost overpowering, making me feel weak, and held, to surface in me, like wonders, some bursting up, some rising slowly, in my depths. Too, sometimes I had felt genuine fear, as I seemed to sense, far off, feelings and emotions so incredible and overwhelming that I knew I would be helpless in their grasp, feelings that would be as commanding and irresistible to me as the movements of the earth and the tides of the sea. In short, I was on the brink of learning my femaleness. To be sure, nothing had been done to me at that time, I had not realized something of great importance, namely, how my body and nervous system could change under its uses, how my helplessness and needs could deepen, increase and intensify, how they could grow upon me and make me their prisoner. Although I was now almost ready, as Ina had put it, shocking me at the time "to beg and scratch for it," I still had no clear idea as to the extent to which my belly and body could be gripped by "slave need." I still had no clear understanding as to how it was that a girl could bruise herself against the bars of her cage, trying to touch a guard, or crawl naked on her belly to a hated master, if only to feel the blow of his hand or foot. In short, though I had come a thousand miles from the naA?ve girl in the library, I still had no understanding, really, of slave sex. I had not yet experienced even a small slave orgasm. But in the context of these reflections, seemingly focused primarily on simple feelings and sensations, let me reemphasize the wholeness of the context. It is in the slave" s life as a whole that these things, so overwhelmingly, find their place. The life of the slave is an entire modality of being, and this modality of being enhances the feelings and sensations just as, in turn, the feelings and sensations enhance and enrich the modality of being. The life of the female slave is a consistent, totalistic and indissoluble whole.

I heard someone part the curtains.

I was frightened.

Someone was there.

I pressed down into the furs, on my belly. Then, it frightening me, and embarrassing me at the time, I felt an involuntary movement, the subtle lifting, just a tiny bit, of my behind, in the furs. Then, swiftly, I lay even lower, more frightened, more closely, in the furs. I had once at a zoo, I recalled, seen a female animal, a female baboon, actually, frightened at the stalking, menacing, meaningful approach of a stern, dominant male, turn about and timidly offer herself to him. I had seen the same sort of behavior among chimpanzees. It is a form of placatory, female-submission behavior.

A man knelt or crouched near me. He felt my flanks. He had very strong hands. Again my body lifted itself, but this time, not so much in fear as in response to his touch.

"Interesting," said Hendow, my master.

I whimpered and tried to hide lower in the furs.

"Do not be upset, slave," he said. "It is for just such things that I bought you."

I felt the key thrust into the locks on the manacles, and they were removed from me. I was then turned to my back. the only bond I wore now was the half hood. "Are you sore?" he asked.

"A little," I said.

"Inside," he said.

"A little," I said.

My body, otherwise, though I would not feel it so much for a few hours, would be stiff here and there, and sore in places. I would discover, too, I had some bruises. Some of the men had treated me with great roughness. That was permissible. I was a slave.

I felt a chain belt put about my waist and padlocked shut at my navel. At the back of the belt, attached to it, was a pair of light manacles of the sort suitable for females, which I would learn are called "slave bracelets." "Master?" I asked.

I did not understand why I was being braceleted, now.

"You will wear these at night," he said, "for three nights."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"You will not be put out on the floor again," he said, "for three days." "Thank you, Master," I said. I supposed that was what I should be saying. "That will give you a chance to heal, if you need it, and, too, it will give you a chance to gather your thoughts together and to reflect upon your experiences." "Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.

"You will spend your time during the day," he said, "as before, in the kitchen." "Yes, Master," I said, apprehensively.

"Do not be afraid," he said. "You will be in the iron belt."

"Now?" I asked. I was now, after all, red silk.

"Yes," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Too," he said, " in the iron belt, and braceleted at night, and working in the kitchen, you will have a chance to simmer."

"To simmer, Master?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

I did not understand him.

Then he picked me up, very gently, and carried me downstairs, to the basement, and my kennel. There, before my kennel, he put me in the iron belt. He then removed my hood. It seemed light there, even in the dimness of the basement. I saw that there was now a whole blanket, not just a part of one, in my kennel. "Thank you for the blanket, Master," I said.

"Crawl into the kennel," he said. "And lie down."

I did so, and he covered me with the blanket, rather gently, I thought. "Good night, Doreen," he said.

"Good night, Master," I said.

He then closed and locked the kennel door. I watched him through the bars as he went across the room, and blew out the small tharlarion-oil lamp there. He then went upstairs. Again I wore an iron belt. I did not understand why until I had slept and, well before dawn, awakened in the darkness. I squirmed. Then I pulled at the bracelets, futilely. I realized then, suddenly, feeling helpless, I would have to wait three days for a man" s touch.