Dancer of Gor

34 Love

"Master well knows how to use a slave," I gasped. "Will he not be merciful with me? What does he want of me? I am only a slave! Must he drive me mad with passion?"

"Be silent," he grumbled.

I twisted helplessly in the love chains. I jerked helplessly again them, the rings cutting into my ankles, pulling against my wrists. There are many varieties of such chains. These were simple and had been earlier taken from the wagoner" s bench, part of the loot which my master had divided between himself and Mirus. Each consisted of a wrist ring and an ankle ring, joined by about ten inches of chain. My left wrist had been attached to my left ankle, my right wrist to my right ankle. I was on my back. A chain was also on my neck. It fastened me to a nearby tree, a yard or so from our blankets.

"You danced well, earlier," he said.

"Master!" I gasped. "Master!"

His tongue was incredible, so gentle, so subtle and yet so persuasive, so forceful, so irresistible.

"You are a hot slave," he commented.

"Hot! I was flaming, and helpless!

He drew back a bit, amused.

Quickly I lifted myself piteously, suppliantly to him.

"Is this how the woman of Earth behave?" he asked.

"I am no longer of Earth," I said. "I am of Gor, and a slave! Be merciful, I beg it, to a helplessly aroused slave!"

He chuckled, the beast, at my discomfiture, and helplessness, and need! "Please, please!" I begged.

"You are far from Earth now, and your library, slave," he said.

"Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" I said. "Please, please, Master!" I lifted myself to him in mute petition.

How he relished the power he held over me!

"Oh, yes!" I cried, as his tongue, again touched me. It had been a tiny, subtle touch, and yet, as he doubtless knew, from my distraught condition, it had brought me to the point where my response was totally within his power and I must beg.

"Please, Master," I whimpered.

"Do you beg?" he asked.

"Yes, Master!" I said.

"Who begs?" he asked.

"Tuka, the slave of Teibar of Ar, begs!" I moaned.

Again his tongue touched me and I threw back my head and screamed with joy, jerking against the chains. "Oh!" I cried. "Oh!" I shuddered, and thrashed and gasped. Then I lay quiet in his chains, looking up at him in wonder, in gratitude. I was his. My entire body was rich in the memory of what he had done to me, in one sense what he had made me beg for, in another sense what he had forced me to endure.

"I am yours," I said.

"That is known to me," he said. He then touched me again, this time gently, with his hand.

Again I looked up at him, helplessly.

"You are mine to caress," he said.

"Yes, my master," I whispered. Then he made me cry out, softly, and then turned me to my belly on the blankets, and lifted me to him. Then he permitted me to lie on my side, and I tried to kiss at his body.

"You are a grateful slave," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"And a passionate slave," he said.

"Yes, Master!" I said.

"Where are the severe garments of the librarian?" he asked. He referred doubtless to the long-sleeved blouse, the dark sweater, the severe skirt, the low-heeled shoes, such things.

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

"And where, too, now, is that librarian?" he asked.

"She who was that librarian," I said, "is here, but she is now only a naked slave, and she begs to kiss her master."

"She may do so," he informed me.

In a time, then, again, he aroused, he seized me and rose to his knees, and held me, he kneeling, I kneeling, and then he thrust me back, and my head was down, and he lifted me up, to him, he kneeling, and he then again, I so helpless, hanging back and down, put me impersonally to his pleasure.

"I did well to pick you out on Earth," he cried.

"Yes, Master!" I wept, loving and ravished, helpless and yielding, a slave, in his hands.

He them put me gently to my back and I looked up at him, in awe and love. "You are a treasure," he said.

"A treasure," I laughed, "that may be purchased for something in the neighborhood of five silver tarsks!"

"Not from me," he said. "I would not sell you for a thousand."

"Mirus thought that Tupita was a thousand times more beautiful than I," I said. "He was wrong," said my master.

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

"She is no more than nine hundred times more beautiful that you," he said. "Master!" I said.

"To me," he said, "you are a thousand, thousand times more beautiful than she." "Thank you, Master!" I purred.

"Kneel," he said.

I struggled to my knees.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

"Late," I said.

"Are you chained?" he asked.

"Of course, Master," I said. I wore his love chains, and the chain on my neck fastening me to the nearby tree.

"Whose chains are they?" he asked.

"Yours, of course, Master," I said.

"It is past midnight," he said.

"Ah!" I said. When the recovery period pertinent to the collar of Ionicus had expired, I had been in the power of Teibar of Ar. Indeed, I had been literally wearing his chains. The legalities of simple slave claim, based on active proprietorship, had not superseded, with respect to that collar, the rights contestable by the sword under which I had hitherto been held, those of sword claim.

"Perhaps I will put love chains on you again," he said. "You serve well in them."

"Thank you, Master," I said. It was indeed my hope that he would do so again, and, indeed, put me in many different bonds, which, in their various ways, for various reasons, both physical and psychological, influence and condition the responses of the female.

He then removed the love chains from me, and tossed them to the side, among his things. He then, too, freed the neck chain from the tree, and then, in a moment, from my neck as well. He tossed the chain to the side, so that it lay with the love chains, among his things. He then lay back on the blankets, with his hands under his head. He looked up, at the moons. I knelt beside him. "I am not chained," I said.

He was silent.

"Are you not afraid I will escape?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Do you want me to promise that I will not run away?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"A slave may not lie," I said. "She is not a free woman." interestingly, on Gor, as on Earth, morality, for the most part, was not required of free women. They might do much what they pleased. On the other hand, slaves had no such liberties at their disposal. As they are owned, such things as honesty and truthfulness are required of them. Indeed, it is commonly expected of the Gorean master that he will take steps to significantly improve the moral character of his slave. "Enter the blankets," he said. "Pull them up about us. The evening is cool." "Perhaps I will try to escape," I said.

"Do you think it would be wise to attempt to escape from a Gorean master?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said, frightened.

"And do you think it would be wise to attempt to escape from Teibar of Ar?" "No, Master," I said.

"Lie down, here," he said.

"There?" I asked. "Beside you?"

"Yes," he said. "Why?"

"I thought you might chain me at your feet, sleeping me there, like a sleen," I said.

"Perhaps later," he said.

I snuggled up, against him. how huge and mighty seemed his body, that of this magnificent, primitive male, on this barbaric, beautiful world, and how small and soft I seemed next to it.

"Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"You told me earlier, at the fire, that «he» was not coming," I said. "This relieved my anxieties. It assuaged my fear. I relaxed. I even bent forward." "Yes," he said.

"You used me to lure the beast in, to the attack," I said. "You tricked me. You used me without my knowledge. You used me without taking me into your confidence. You used me as a slave!"

"Yes," he said.

But, of course, I thought to myself, he had used me as a slave. I was a slave! "Master," I said.

"Yes," I said.

"Tela would seek out Aulus, overseer of the work camp of Ionicus, near Venna. She is his love slave. Do you think she found him?"

"it is possible," he said. "I do not know."

"But Ionicus owns her," I said.

"If the fellow Aulus is the overseer," said my master, "he is doubtless empowered to buy and sell slaves from the chain. Thus, if he wants her, it would not be difficult for him to purchase her. Probably no more would be required than the transfer of a sum between accounts.

"But what if she did not come into his power?" I asked.

"Then," he said," she had presumably been transported elsewhere, carried away in the chains of another, to a different fate, presumably never to see him again. She is, after all, only a slave."

"Yes, Master," I said. I was frightened. How much we were at the mercy of our masters! We were only slaves!

"Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"I am your slave," I said. "I am owned by you. You have total power over me." "Yes?" he said.

"Will you be gentle with me, and kind with me?" I asked.

"You are a slave," he said. "You will be treated precisely as it pleases me to treat you."

"Am I to be permitted clothing?" I asked.

"Only if it pleases me," he said.

"Am I to be often whipped?" I asked.

"When may a slave be whipped?" he asked.

"Whenever a master pleases," I said.

"That, then, he said, "is when you will be whipped, whenever a master pleases." "Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master."

"You are a cuddly slut," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"You are very female," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"Are there many women like you on Earth?" he asked.

"I suppose so, Master," I said. "I do not know."

"It is incredible that there should be any," he said, "given the depth and extensiveness of the masculinist conditioning programs to which they are subjected, the values they are trained to accept, the seeking of which is reinforced, the models they are encouraged to emulate, the images which are held forth for them to fulfill, the manifold enticements and rewards offered for male surrogation, the contempt in which love and service, and biological womanhood, are held. It is as though all the forces of communication, education and law had gone insane, with no better objective than to bring the sexes to ruin, destroy the human gene pool and doom the species.

"Only there, Master," I said. "Not here."

"How is it that a woman like you should have come from such a place?" he asked. "I am sure there are thousands, perhaps millions, like me," I said. I think it must be the case that all women, at lest when they are alone, know the truth, if only in their bellies.

"Perhaps," he said.

"You have done slaving on Earth," I said. "Apparently you find us not unattractive."

"True," he said.

"Once collared, do we not prove satisfactory?" I asked.

"You would be well whipped, did you not?" he said.

"Even so?" I said.

"Yes," he said. "It is true."

"Freed, we will destroy you, and then ourselves," I said. "Kept in collars, we will worship you, and serve you well."

"Perhaps I will have you write your story, in English," he said.

"But who could read it, here?" I asked.

"I have been to Earth," he said. "I have seen works there, dealing with my world."

I looked at him, startled.

"Yes," he said.

"But how could they know?" I asked. "How could such things get to Earth?" "I am not sure," he said. "I think perhaps they are put on the platforms outside the palisade of the Sardar Mountains, for Priest-Kings. Then perhaps the Priest-Kings see that they reach Earth."

"I do not think there are such things as Priest-Kings," I said. "Some people," he said, "do not believe the beasts exist."

"Do such exist on Earth?" I asked.

"I think some," he said, "probably exiles, and the offspring of exiles, marooned criminals, beached on a foreign world, degenerate scions of the People, and such."

"Where?" I asked.

"In lonely areas," he said, "the mountains of Asia, the forests of the Pacific Northwest, and such."

"If such works exist," I said, "then some women must know that there is such a world as Gor."

"Or that there might be such a world," he said. "Did you know if it?" "No!" I said. "Do they know that such slaving occurs?"

"Some, perhaps," he said. "On the other hand, such books are generally regarded as fiction. It is better that way, don" t you think?"

"I don" t know," I said, frightened. I touched my right hand to my breasts, so soft, and my left hand to my collar. I was now a Gorean slave. Would it have been better on Earth if I had known such things were possible, or had it been better if, as in my case, I had not even suspected their possibility? I did not know. But, in any event, I was now here, and in a collar.

"We will leave in the morning," he said.

I wondered what sort of man he was, this magnificent, formidable brute to whom I now belonged.

He had not even given me clothing!

"Master keeps his girl naked," I pouted.

"Sometimes a bit of clothing looks well on a female," he said, "if it is sufficiently revealing, and can be swiftly removed, or torn away."

"Master?" I asked.

"For example," he said, "some of the lingerie, as you call it, with which you Earth females delight to secretly bedeck yourselves, concealing it beneath the camouflage of your prescribed habiliments."

"I am no longer an Earth female," I said, kissing him.

"Such garments," he said, "though perhaps too indecent for the streets or market place a Gorean master might require of his slave in the privacy of his own quarters."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"a€”if permitted her clothing, at all," he added.

"You took away my slave strip, and my belt of rolled cloth," I said. "They were almost nothing, but they were all I had to cover myself." "That was in accord with my decision," he said, "that for the time being, at least, you will be kept naked."

"I shall be proud to walk naked behind you, on the road," I said.

"My pack is not heavy," he said.

"I shall carry it?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Of course."

"May I ask where we are going?" I asked.

"I am going to my small villa, deserted now, in the hills of northeast Ar," he said. "You will simply follow, as my draft animal."

"Does master have other slaves?" I asked, apprehensively.

"You will learn," he said.

I moaned.

"No," he laughed.

I cried out with pleasure, and kissed him, happily, in relief. "I will be a thousand slaves to you!" I said.

"Yes," he said. "You will. I will see to it."

"Yes, Master," I said, happily. I kissed him, again, delightedly.

"At my villa, too, " he said, "I will decide whether I will keep you or sell you."

"Master?" I protested.

"Perhaps, you will endeavor to be such that I will decide to keep you," he said. "Master may be assured that I will do my best," I said. "I shall earnestly endeavor to be pleasing to him in all respects!"

"I think you will like the villa," he said. "It is not large, but it is, I think, quite lovely. It is white, with a small court, and stuccoed walls. There is a porch which overlooks a little valley. It is quiet and secluded. It has a lovely setting, hidden in the hills. I withdraw there, from time to time." "I shall endeavor to serve master well there," I said.

"In such a place, too," he said, "it might not be inappropriate to have a slave write her story."

"Do you wish to have me do so, Master?" I asked.

"I have not decided," he said.

"In the first house of my slavery," I said, "I was given a series of injections. I am curious about them. Were they inoculations against diseases?"

"I know those you mean," he said. "No, they were the stabilization serums. We give them even to slaves."

"What are they?" I asked.

"You do not know?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"They are a discovery of the caste of physicians," he said. "They work their effects on the body."

"What is their purpose?" I asked.

"Is there anything in particular which strikes you generally, statically, about the population of Gor?" he asked.

"Their vitality, their health, their youth," I said.

"Those are consequences of the stabilization serums," he said.

"I do not understand," I said.

"You will retain your youth and beauty, curvaceous slave," he said. "That is the will of masters."

"I do not understand," I said, frightened.

"Ageing," he said, "is a physical process, like any other. It is, accordingly, accessible to physical influences. To be sure, it is a subtle and complex process. It took a thousand years to develop the stabilization serums. Our physicians regarded ageing as a disease, the drying, withering disease, and so attacked it as a disease. They did not regard it as, say, a curse, or a punishment, or something inalterable or inexplicable, say, as some sort of problem, susceptible to physical approaches. Some five hundred years ago, they developed the first stabilization serums."

"How could I ever pay for such a thing!" I gasped.

"There is no question of payment," he said. "They are given to you as an animal, a slave."

"Master," I whispered, awed.

"Do not fret," he said. "In the case of a woman from Earth, like yourself, they are not free."

"Master?" I asked.

He took my collar in both hands, and moved it in such a way that I could feel how sturdily, and obdurately, it was locked on my neck. "For a woman such as you," he said, "their price is the collar."

"Yes, Master," I said. The serums, in that sense, did indeed have their price. We paid for them with the collar. It was with a strange feeling that I realized that even if I did not wish it so, even if I vehemently desired otherwise, my youth and beauty would continue to remain fresh and lovely for Gorean masters. Not even for it was there an escape! It, too, was "collared."

I shuddered, considering the effects of the stabilization serums.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, Master," I said. I scarcely dared to cope with even the thought of the serums. I had not understood their effects. Perhaps my master was mistaken! I must think of other things!

"Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"You seemed to be familiar with the beasts," I said. "Were you once associated with them?"

"Yes," he said.

"Are you associated with them any longer?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Are the beasts," I asked, "involved in the slaving?"

"In a way, yes," he said. "They provide, for the most part, the means for conducting the trade.""The trade?" I asked.

"The slave trade," he said.

"Of course, Master," I said.

"Do not grow arrogant at the thought of the stabilization serums," he said. "Arrogant?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Keep clearly in mind that regardless of their value or benefits from your point of view, they have other consequences as well. For example, you will continue to be of interest to masters, you will continue to excite them, you will continue to be the sort of woman they want for their collars and chains. As you remain as you are, so soft, so lovely, so attractive and desirable, you must expect to continue to face the risks and perils attendant on your beauty, on a world such as this, where it is a common mode of currency, a familiar means of exchange, where it may be used to bribe traitors, and be given to heroes as a reward, where it is a prize for courage and audacity, where it may count as tribute to conquerors, where it can be used to bargain for cities and states, and where it is bought and sold in markets."

"Yes, Master," I whispered. Perhaps I was a terrible person, but I did not mind the thought of being exciting and beautiful. Perhaps it was fitting then that I be punished with bondage.

"You are a beautiful slave," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

I wondered if my master was weak. Some men are very strong with men, and yet weak with their women. He had just said I was beautiful. That was surely a compliment. Surely it indicated some interest in me, or approval of me, surely in at least one respect. He had said I was beautiful. Could I not then, though it was I who was in a collar, make use of his feelings to own him? Too, he had followed me for months, over thousands of pasangs. He must like me then, at least a little. That seemed likely. Indeed, he must care for me. I suspected that perhaps he even loved me. Perhaps I could make use of that. I wondered if he was weak. It would not hurt to test him. I knew that some girls twisted their masters about their little fingers. I wondered if I could do that. "Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"I am not a common Gorean girl," I said. "You know that I am from Earth." He was silent.

"We are going to leave the camp tomorrow," I said. "I would like to have some clothing. I could make a tunic from a blanket, as Tupita did."

"Had you not heard my decision, announced to you earlier," he inquired, "that you were to be kept naked?"

"Yes, Master," I said. "But I do not wish to be kept so. I would like some clothing. Perhaps you could change your mind."

He was silent.

"I would kiss you very well," I said, "if you would give me some clothing." "For a highly intelligent woman," he said, "you are inutterably stupid." "Master?" I asked.

"Perhaps it is your femaleness," he said.

"Master?" I asked.

"Kiss me now, with perfection, or die," he said.

"Yes, Master!" I said.

"Swallow," he said.

I did so, terrified.

"I wondered how you might behave," he said, "if I gave you even a hort of room, even an Ihn of indulgence."

"Master!" I wept.

But he had then seized my wrists and, then with a thong, bound them together, before my body. He then dragged me toward a low-hanging branch and tied my hands, so bound, over my head to the branch. "No, Master!" I cried. "Please, Master!" He then whipped me. He then, angrily, released me from the branch, I blubbering and weeping, half in shock, and dragged me back to the blankets. Then he threw me to the foot of the blankets and chained me there, hand and foot. I looked up at him, in terror. Then, angrily, he lay down on the blankets, drawing them about himself to sleep. "Master," I begged, "may I speak!" "No," he said.

I lay there in misery until morning. He was my master. I loved him! I loved him more than anything! But I had failed my first test with him! I had only wanted to know, foolishly, the nature of my power with him, if any, and the nature of the discipline to which I might be subject. I had only wanted to know if, truly, I was his slave or not. Then he had made me serve him, uncompromisingly. Then he had whipped me and put me chained, at his feet. The library was indeed faraway, and I was indeed his slave! I had asked earlier if I was not to be slept at his feet, as might be a sleen, and he had said, "Perhaps later." Why had I not understood then that my behavior was under scrutiny, that he was even then inquiring into the qualities and nature of me? I was in misery, and overcome with contrition. How badly I had behaved! I had failed my first test with my master, whom I loved! Yet, too, I felt grandly and warmly reassured as to his strength and dominance. I knew then my master was master, that he would never relinquish his sovereignty, that he was a true man. I was content now, and eager, a female, to be his perfect slave. If I had failed his test, he had passed mine. To be sure, I was aware that there might be continuing penalties attached to my having displeased him. I wanted so to sleep next to him, or at his thigh, but instead now, I might indefinitely be slept at his feet, as a sleen or dog, or as less, as a female slave. But I would rejoice to be even so near to him! too, perhaps, now, I might be often whipped. I did not know. Too, perhaps, now, I would be within the will of Teibar of Ar, my master. A little before morning, I fell asleep. When I awakened I discovered that a blanket had been put over me.

"Master," I said. "I beg for forgiveness."

He bent over me and removed the chains. Swiftly, tears in my eyes, I knelt before him. I then, unbidden, contritely, timidly, lovingly, kneeling before him, kissed him, serving him with all the sweetness, delicacy and perfections I could. I then swallowed, and looked up at him, hoping to find some particle of forgiveness or kindness in his eyes.

"Cook," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

In less than an Ahn I knelt beside his pack. He looked about the camp, and extinguished the firs. He kicked dirt over its remains. He then turned about, and looked at me. To my surprise, he seemed amused. "Did you satisfy your curiosity last night, Tuka?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He had realized then, well enough, what I had been doing! Could I have no secrets from such a man? Was I so open to him then, in my mind, as well as, by his decision, in my beauty?"

"And have you learned your lesson?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Speak," he said.

"I have learned my lesson, Master," I said.

"Well," he said, "your ears are pierced, so you are not all bad." "I am pleased," I said, "if even by such a small thing I may please my master." "We shall get you some earrings," he said, "but they will not be valuable ones, for you are a low slave."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Too," he said, "we would not want you stolen for the value of your earrings." "No, Master," I said, smiling.

"You are dangerous," he said. "One might grow fond of you."

"Master!" I breathed.

He then walked over to where I knelt, crouched down, opened his pack, and reached within it. He took out a tiny handful of scarlet silk, and opened it. "Master!" I cried.

It was the tiny garment, fit for a muchly displayed slave, which I had made for myself on Earth, long before I had known there was a Gor, or a Teibar, or the possibility of a collar.

"It is perhaps a bit too lengthy," he said, looking at it, "and it could be slit at the sides, and the neckline could be cut more deeply, and it is not diaphanous, or is insufficiently diaphanous, but still it is a not unattractive garment. Perhaps, sometime, if I decide to permit you clothing, at least for an Ahn or so, I will see again how it looks on you." He had seen me in it once before, of course, at the library, when I had knelt before captors. The existence of that tiny garment among my things, in my apartment, of course, had shown them that I was a slave, though at that time one not yet fittingly imbonded.

"You brought it from Earth!" I said. "You did not destroy it there!" "Perhaps from time to time in the villa," he said, "I will let you wear it, or less, when you serve me."

"I love you," I said. "I love you!"

He put the silk away.

"I love you!" I said.

"There is something else, too," he said.

"Master?" I said.

He reached again into the pack. "Do you recognize these?" he asked. "Oh, Master!" I said, delightedly.

"They are the thong and bells which you wore at the library, when you danced," he said." "Yes, Master!" I said.

"perhaps you remember, too," he said, "that we kept them on you when you were naked there, in the darkness, to help us keep track of you."

"Yes, Master!" I said.

"Such things make useful adornments to a female slave," he said, "and help to mark her movements."

"Yes, Master!" I said. I remembered that when I had been place on the library table, long ago, prior to having the rubberized mask placed over my face, through which the chemicals had been put which had forced me to unconsciousness, the silk, which had been being used as a gag, a mnemonic device reminding me I must be silent, had been drawn from my mouth and put to one side. The bells, too, I recalled, had been placed upon it. He had kept them both, both the silk and the bells!

"Perhaps, from time to time, you shall wear them, too, at the villa," he said. "Yes, Master!" I said, delightedly. How rightful it seemed that I should serve him in such things, here on Gor, even from Earth.

He put the bells away.

He then removed the whip from his pack, and held it to my lips, and I kissed it. He then put the whip away, inserting it into the pack. He then rose to his feet and walked a few feet away, to the edge of the camp, and turned and regarded me. I stood up, and shouldered his pack. It was not heavy. In it I could feel the chains. Some of them I had worn. In it, too, was the whip, his, to which I was subject. I heard, too, within the pack, the tiny sound of the bells, here, on Gor, slave bells.

"I love you, Master!" I said. "I love you, my Master!"

He shrugged.

"Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Am I to be permitted to tell what has happened to me?" I asked. "Am I to write my story?"

"I do not know," he said. "I do not know if it is good for the women of Earth to know of these things or not."

I was silent. I did not know either.

"What would you like to do?" he asked.

"I?" I asked, startled.

"Yes," he said.

"I think I would like to tell my sisters on Earth," I said.

"Do you think they will believe you?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Would you, before you learned what you now know, have believed it?" "No," I said.

"They will not believe you, certainly not most of them," he said.

"That is all right," I said. "I do not care. I do not even think that is really important. Perhaps that is best. I do not know. But what is important, I think, is to say these things."

"Perhaps," he said.

"And so, Master," I asked, "am I to be permitted to write the story?" "Perhaps," he said. "I am not sure. I have, as yet, no firm thoughts on the matter."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"I have not yet decided," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He then turned about and walked a few paces from the camp. I stood there, naked, a brand on my thigh, a collar on my neck, bearing his pack. I wondered if the women of Earth would believe my story. I supposed not. But then, too, what did it matter? Perhaps it was better that they not believe it. Their life, then, would surely be easier, knowing that there was no world such as Gor, no collars for them, no masters such that they must be uncompromisingly served. But in any event, dear sisters, whether you long for the collar, or fear it, it is real. He turned about. "Follow me," he said in Gorean. It took me a moment to make the transition from English to Gorean. Then I said, "Yes, my Master," in Gorean. And, at a suitable distance, naked, bearing his pack, followed him from the woods. We would go to the Vitkel Aria and travel south. He had a villa, northeast of Ar, in the hills.