Kajira of Gor

8 I Have Been in the House of Kliomenes; The Room in the Inn of Lysias; War

"Perhaps now," said Drusus Rencius, "you have a better idea of the nature of the pens."

I could not even answer him, accompanying him back through the alleys to the inn of Lysias. I feared that my bead might begin to swirl, that I might lose consciousness. I was scarcely aware of my surroundings, of where I was or what I was doing, or even of my feet touching the ground. I felt ligbt-headed. I was trembling. I was filled with wild, turbulent emotions I would never have believed that women could be subjected to such domination. I hoped that Drusus Rencius could not smell my arousal.

"Leading position," said Drusus Rencius.

I put my head down to his waist and he fastened his left hand in my hair. "Tal, Citizen," said Drusus Rencius to the fellow passing us in the Hall. He soon released my hair and I again straightened up. I was following him, generally, a little behind and on his left. It seemed appropriate that I, in my disguise, might seem to heel him, as though I might be a mere slave. It seemed to me that he had held my hair more tightly than be had needed to, when we had passed the stranger. I still wore the slave bracelets. He had declined to remove them when we had left the house of Kliomenes. In his steel, heeling him, occasionally being put into leading position by him, I felt much in his power. "Did you enjoy the pens?" asked Drusus.

"Please do not make me speak," I whimpered. I was terribly conscious of the heat in my body, and the absence of a nether closure in my garment. Had Drusus Rencius so much as snapped his fingers I think I might have thrown myself to my back in the alley, begging for his touch.

"This is the house of Kliomenes," had said Drusus Rencius, climbing the stairs to the narrow, heavy iron portal, recessed some feet back, at the end of a narrow tunnel, in the wall. It was on the street of Milo. Above the entrance to the tunnel, and on its right, in the wall, hanging from an iron projection, was a narrow, blue-and-yellow banner. I followed Drusus Rencius carefully, that I might not fall. "This is one of the better, and more respectable of the slave houses in Corcyrus," he said. "That is one of the reasons that I have selected it for your visit, that your sensibilities, those of a free woman, not be excessively offended."

"I see," I said.

"On the other hand, do not expect it to compromise overly much with its women. Such would be a violation of the ethics of the slavers. Its women, you will find, all things considered, are held rather close to the standards of slave perfection."

"I see," I said.

He beckoned and I joined him in the narrow tunnel leading to the door. I regarded the iron door, apprehensively.

"There are truly slaves in there?" I asked.

"Of course," he said. "If you enter, you will be, probably, the only free woman in the house, unless there is a new girl in there, in chains, awaiting, say, the iron and the collar."

"Oh," I said.

"Do you wish to enter?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"You are a woman, and it is the house of a slaver," he said.

"I will enter," I said.

He then struck on the iron door. He then thrust me in front of him, so that I, in the tunnel, was between him and the door.

There was a small, rectangular, "iron observation panel, now shut, in the door. I felt the stone of the tunnel beneath my feet, the steel holding my wrists helplessly behind me.

The observation panel slid back. I saw eyes looking at me, and then, beyond me, at Drusus Rencius.

The panel slid shut with a click.

I wanted to turn and run. I could not do so, of course, because of the walls of the tunnel, and Drusus Rencius behind me.

"They are expecting us," said Drusus Rencius, sensing my sudden terror. I heard chains and bars behind the door, bolts being freed.

Then the door swung open. "Enter," said a pleasant enough looking young man in the threshold. I entered, followed by Drusus. Beside the young man there was a guard, too, within. I heard the door, with its various devices, being refastened behind me. We were in a tiny torchlit room. Only a few feet before us was another door, also iron, similar to the outside door.

"Bracelet check," said the young man to me, pleasantly.

"Turn your back to him, and lift your wrists," said Drusus Rencius.

I did this and the young man quickly, expertly, checked the bracelets. They were locked on me. I was helpless.

I then turned again, to face the interior door.

I cried out, startled.

The guard, crouching beside me, had taken my left ankle in his left hand and run his right hand beneath my foot.

"No," said Drusus Rencius, deterring the guard, "there is nothing taped to her instep, nor is there anything else of the sort for which you might be searching concealed about or in her body or hair. She is to be exempted from slave search." I then realized, shuddering, just how thorough slave search might be. The guard looked at the young man, who nodded. The guard then stood up.

The young. man then tapped a complex signal on the inner iron door. In a moment I heard it being freed of its fastenings. It then swung open and we, the young man, Drusus Rencius and myself, were admitted to the corridor beyond.

The guard there refastened the door and then took his place on a stool behind a small table.

"We need a pass and a license," said the young man to the guard.

I looked at Drusus Rencius.

"The license is only a formality," he said. "No free woman, unless a capture, may proceed beyond this point unless she is in the charge of a free man who is responsible for her and has a current license for her. This is a device to control the movements of free women in the house and a precaution against the attempted escape of slave girls pretending to be free women."

"Here is your pass," said the young man, handing a small disk to Drusus Rencius. It was not unlike one of the ostraka used as tickets or tokens for admission at the theater or other such events. The guard, meanwhile, was writing something down on a small, rectangular form. I had little doubt what it "And here," said the young man, taking the form from s, the guard and handing it to Drusus Rencius. confirming my speculations, "is your license for the female." I was a woman.

Accordingly, I had to be licensed in the house of Kliomenes.

How humiliatingl The Goreans have a saying, "There are only two kinds of women, slaves, and slaves." I pulled at my wrists. They were well held in the bracelets.

"Is she really free?" asked the young man.

"Yes," said Drusus Rencius, putting the pass and license in his pouch. "Interesting," said the young man.

"Do you find it surprising?" asked Drusus Rencius.

"Yes," said the young man.

The guard then stood up and came about the table. I backed away a foot or tHe crouched down near me, and then stood up, regarding I blushed, helpless.

"Such curves," he said, "should not be wasted on a free woman."

"I do not think Publius will believe she is free," laughed the young man. I looked at Drusus Rencius.

"Publius," said Drusus Rencius, "is the house master. I know him from Ar." "He would like to see you, after your tour," said the young man, "to drink a cup of paga."

"I shall be delighted," said Drusus Rencius. He did not ask me for my permission to do this, I noted.

"She is truly free?" asked the guard.

"Yes," averred Drusus Rencius.

"It is a shame," said the guard. "Curves like that should be up for sale." "From what I have heard of her," said Drusus Rencius, smiling, "she is the sort of a woman who has her price." I wondered what lie meant by that.

"Hermidorus will accompany you in the house," said the young man, "if we can tear him away from his scrolls."

He understands, does he not," asked Drusus Rencius, "that the woman is free and, accordingly, certain things are not to be seen."

"Of course," smiled the young man. "Hermidorust" he called, loudly. Swiftly I put down my head again and winced as Drusus fastened his hand in my hair.

Thus again was I led past a stranger in the alleys. As we passed the stranger, be approaching us, be was on our right.

Goreans commonly pass in this fashion, the sword arms of right-handed individuals being thus on the side of the approaching stranger.

I saw some girls rummaging through a garbage can. They wore short tunics but they were not slaves. Goreans sometimes refer to such women as "strays." They are civic nuisances. They are occasionally rounded up, guardsmen appearing at opposite ends of an alley, trapping them, and collared.

"Buy me, Master," begged the girl, kneeling before Drusus Rencius. "I will give you much pleasure."

"Next!" barked the trainer, in the house of Kliomenesy The next girl hurried forward and knelt before Drusus Rencius, kissing his feet, and then lifting her head, piteously, to him. "Buy me, Master," she said. "I will give you much pleasure…"

"Next!" barked the trainer.

The next woman then hurried to Drusus and, threw herself to her belly before him, kissing his feet. She then rose slowly to her knees, kissing him from the ankles to the waist.

Kneeling before him, then, close to him, holding his legs she looked up at him. "Buy me, Master," she whispered. "I will give you much pleasure." How furious I was that these women were being sent to the feet of Drusus Rencius. They were naked and beautiful, but who would want to buy them? They were only slaves. That could be told by the collars they wore, bars of rounded iron which, here, in the house, had been curved about their necks and hammered shut. I stood in the background, angry, braceleted, helpless.

"You!" said the trainer, gesturing to another girl with his Whip. "To his feetl Beg for love!"

This girl hurried forward and knelt before Drusus Rencius.

"I beg for love, Master," she whispered.

"You!" said the trainer, indicating another girl. She, too, hurried forward. She knelt before Drusus Rencius, her palms on the floor, her head to the very tiles. "I beg for love," she whispered. "I beg for love, Master."

I was startled. I realized, suddenly, that these two women, indeed, were begging for love. "Beg elsewhere, sluts!" I thought. "Leave Drusus Rencius alone!" And how offensive that a woman should beg for love! Surely her intimate, desperate needs for attention, for affection and love were better concealed even from herself, if possible, and certainly, at least, from others! And if they must beg, the helpless sluts, did they not know how a woman be~, by looks, by glances, by small, hopeful services. Surely a woman should not be expected to speak honestly in such matters. What brute would force her to such extremities? Too, how vulnerable a woman would make herself, placing herself so at the mercy of men, subject to being spurned, subject to his scorn and rejection.

Yet how simple, how straightforward and liberating might be such a confession. How beautiful it might be to so express one's vulnerability, and femininity, so tenderly, so piteously, so openly. To be sure, one would expect such a confession only from a woman whose needs were both desperate and deep, a woman who had needs such as might characterize slaves.

"Come along," said Hermidorus.

"Please, Drusus," I said. "My hands have been braceleted long enough. I am beginning to feel too helpless, too much like a slave. Please release me." "I will release you in the room," he said. I then continued to follow him, still braceleted, through the alleys, toward the inn of Lysias.

"Slowly, more humbly," cautioned the trainer, half crouching over, watching carefully, moving slowly beside the girl. Then he moved about her, more quickly, varying his perspective. Then he moved to the end of the room, where he might wait for her to approach. "Head lower," he said. "Better, better." I watched her approach him, head down, on her hands and knees, her breasts depending beautifully. Then she dropped the whip from her teeth before his booted feet. She then remained there, head down, in position. "Better," he said. He then picked up the whip and tossed it across the tiles. "Again," he said. She then rose lightly to her feet and hurried to the whip, where, once more, she dropped to her hands and knees. She picked up the whip delicately in her teeth, and looked at him. He snapped his fingers. Again, then, head down, slowly, she approached him, the whip held in her mouth.

"Kneel, back on your heels," said the trainer to the dark haired woman. "Straighten your back, suck in your gut, put your shoulders back, thrust out your breasts, spread your knees, widely, lift your chin, put your hands on your thighs.

You are not going to be sold as a tower slave, Lady Tina. You are going to be sold as a pleasure slave."

The whip cracked, and I jumped. But it had not touched the girl, only startled her.

She knelt behind the dark, smooth post, facing it, her knees on either side of it, her belly and breasts against it, her hands embracing it.

"this may be done to music," said Hermidorus, "and, as you know, there are many versions to the post dance, or pole dance, singly, or with more than one girl, with or without bonds, wand so on, but here we are using it merely as a training exercise.

The whip cracked again and the girl, suddenly and lasciviously, became active. I gasped.

She began to writhe about the pole. "Kiss it, caress it, love It!" commanded the trainer, snapping the whip. "Now more slowly, now scarcely moving, now use your thighs, and breasts more, moving all about it, holding it. Touch it with your tongue, lick it! Use the inside of your thighs more, your breasts, turn about it, slowly, sensuously. Lift your hands above your head, palms to the pole, caressing it. Turn about the pole! Twist about it! Now to your knees, holding it!" He then cracked the whip again. "Enough!" he said. She was then as she had been before, kneeling behind the post, her knees on either side of it, her belly and breasts pressed against it, her hands embracing it. The girl was looking at me. She was wondering, perhaps, if I were the next to be put to the post. I looked away, angrily. Did she not know I was not a lowly thing like she? Did she not know I was free?

"It is a useful exercise," said Hermidorus to Drusus.

"Obviously," agreed Drusus.

I looked back at the girl. She was now looking away. I looked at the post. It was dark, and shiny. It had been polished smooth, apparently, by the bodies of many girls.

The girl looked suddenly at me. There was a hostility in our looks toward one another. She saw, I think, in my eyes, that I thought I could have done better at the post than she.

Then I looked away. What would I care for her opinionsi Were we competitive women?

"Come along," said Hermidorus.

"These women," said Hermidorus, "are practicing their floor movements." A trainer stood among them, with a whip. Occasionally he would snap this whip near a girl. I did not doubt but what the girls on the tiles, if they were found sufficiently displeasing to the trainer, or too frequently required the admonitory signal of the cracking leather, would soon hear the snap of the lash not in their mere vicinity but on their own bared bodies. Two of the girls, I saw, had stripes on them, one on the thigh, and one on the side. The trainer was not now paying them much attention. They were now, apparently, doing well. "Come along," said Hermidorus.

"How beautiful!" I breathed.

Drusus Rencius looked sharply at me. I feared for a moment I might be struck. Hermidorus, on the other hand, did not seem to notice. My exclamation, perhaps, had seemed sufficiently inadvertent, involuntary and irrepressible, to be ignored; or perhaps it was to be ignored because I was not a slave, but a free woman. I did not meet Drusus Rencius's eyes. It was not like I had just decided to speak and had spoken. In a place like this I did not know if I was subject to discipline or not. I did not think so, for I was a free woman. On the other hand I knew I was here on the sufferance of the house of Kijomenes. Indeed, on these premises, I knew that Drusus Rencius even held a license on me.

The drummer and the flautist prepared once more to play.

The girl in the long, light chain smiled at me. She, at any rate, was pleased by my response.

A wrist ring was fastened on her right wrist. The long, slender, gleaming chain was fastened to this and, looping down and up, ascended gracefully to a wide chain ring on her collar, through which it freely passed, thence descending, looping down, and ascending, looping up, gracefully, to the left wrist ring. If she were to stand quietly, the palms of her hands ~n her thighs, the lower portions of the chain, those two dangling loops, would have been about at the level of her knees, just a little higher. The higher portion of the chain, of course, would be at the collar loop.

The musicians began again to play. There is much that can be done with such a chain. It was a dancing chain. Its purpose was not to confine the girl but to allow her to incorporate it in her dance, enhancing the dance with its movements and beauty. It is, of course, symbolic of her bondage, this adding fantastic dimensions of significance to the dance.

It is not merely a beautiful woman who dances, but one who can be bought and sold, one who is subject to male ownership. Too, of course, the wrist rings, and the collar, are truly locked on her. There is no doubt about it. It is a slave, with all that that means, who is dancing.

I watched her, my breath almost taken away by her beauty.

"She is a valuable woman," said Hermidorus.

I did not doubt it.

"'Come along," he said.

We are readying her for her sale," said Hermidorus.

I watched her naked on the block, under the tutelage of a whip-carrying trainer. It was small, rounded room, with mirrors. He was putting her through slave paces.

"She is to be auctioned in five days," said Hermidorus.

My eyes and those of the girl met. At that instant her weight was on the palms of her hands, her arms straight, and the sides of her feet, her body lifted from the block, her legs ~ight and spread widely behind her.

I realized then, with a shock, that she was going to be sold Then she was being put through further slave paces.

"Come along," said Hermidorus.

I was trembling. The hand of Drusus Rencius on my arm drew me, bodily, from the room.

"I have changed my mind!" wept the girl. "I will be pleasing! I will be pleasing!"

I looked through the heavy bars of the cell, some three inches in thickness, reinforced with crosspieces, to the opposite wall. It was hard to see. There, kneeling on straw, trying to pull towards us, her wrists tied behind her hack to a ring set in the wall, was a blond girl. "I will be pleasing!" she wept. "I will be pleasing! I will be pleasing!"

I then turned away from her, following Hermidorus and Drusus Rencius.

"She is not yet begging to be pleasing," said Hermidorus to Drusus.

"Correct," he said.

I looked behind myself, following them, at the dark cells, most of them empty, along the corridor. This was certainly not my favorite part of the house. It was dark, and cold, and clammy. Occasionally my bare feet stepped in puddles of cold water, seeped to this level, and caught in concavities or irregularities in the corridor flooring. And, here and there, I could see passages, narrow, crooked and dark, leading to even lower levels. I was pleased that we were not going to traverse them. It had seemed frightening enough to me to come even to this level. Sometimes, in our descent, bn cat-walks, we had even passed over pit cells, little more than holding holes, ceilinged with locked iron gates, sunk in the floor of the corridor. I had cried out with misery and terror in passing over one of these for a large hand, emerging suddenly through the grating, had seized my ankle. Drusus Rencius had pried open the fingers "and thrust the hand away. I then kept closely to the center of the catwalks. There were male slaves in this house, too, I had learned. Had the slave known I was free, I do not think he would have touched me.

He might have remained crouching in his hole, thinking what thoughts he might, but I do not think he would have dared to touch me. A male slave can be slain for touching a free woman. "She is not here for punishment," Hermidorus had informed the dark shapes beneath the grating. I then realized that a slave girl, perhaps for purposes of her discipline, might be lowered through the grating hole, doubtless into eager hands, the grating then being resecured.

In the corridors, in our movements through them, particularly in the upper levels, we would sometimes encounter slaves, usually employed in domestic tasks, such as running errands, carrying burdens, dusting or cleaning. These women were usually naked, except for their collars, which, I gathered, was the way women were usually kept in a slaver's house. At the approach of the free men, Hermidorus and Drusus, they would immediately position themselves, usually with their knees wide, kneeling back on their heels, their heads up, their bands on their thighs, in the position I had come to understand was that of the pleasure slave, but sometimes, instead; kneeling with the palms of their hands on the tiles, their heads down, too, to the same tiles.

There was one temporary, partial exception to this, which I wrn mention. After we had left some carpeted corridors, higher in the house, and were moving to the lower levels, and traversing heavy, ftagstonelike tiles, we approached a slender, dark-haired girl who, on her hands and knees, in chains, with a bucket of water, cloths and a brush, in that portion of the corridor, was scrubbing tiles.

As we approached, she oriented herself towards us, palms of her hands on the floor, and put her head to the tiles. But, as we neared her, she lifted her head, desperately.

"Hermidorus!" she cried, suddenly. "Hermidorus!"

He stopped before her, a few feet from her, and we stopped, too, behind him. "Do you not know me?" she begged. The chain she wore was a work sirik. It resembles the common sink but the wrists, to permit work, are granted about a yard of chain.

Like the common sirik, it is a lovely chain. Women are beautiful in it.

"Deirdre!" she cried. "Deirdre! Two years ago ill Ar we lived in the same building!"

He looked at her, not speaking.

"Deirdre," she whimpered.

"In the instant you were imbonded, you ceased to be Girl,' be said.

"Girl?" she said.

"what is your house name?" be asked.

"Oh, no," she said. "Not you! Not you, of all people! You not see me as a slave! You could not see me as a slave! I you. That would be impossible! You could not relate to as though I might be a slave! You could not! One such as would never enforce my slavery upon me! One such as you could never do so!" Then she looked up at him, her lower lip trembling. "'Renata' is my house name," she said. He then removed the belt from his tunic. The accouterments on it he handed to Drusus Rencius.

"You lifted your head from the tile position before free persons had passed you, Renata," he said. "You also addressed a free man twice by his name. Similarly your speech has been inadequately deferential. It has not been interspersed at appropriate points, for example, by the expression "Master.' You have also referred to yourself as though you might still be ~Deirdre.' Such falsifications of identity are not permitted to slaves. Deirdre is gone. In her place there is now only a slave, an animal, who must wear whatever name masters choose to put on her. Similarly, when asked a question, that pertaining to your house name, you did not respond with sufficient promptness. Do you understand all that I am saying, fully and clearly, Renata?"

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Yes, Master!" she said.

"On all fours, Renata," he said.

"Yes, Master," she sobbed, assuming this position.

"Perhaps you should precede us a few paces down the hall," said Drusus Rencius to me.

I moved, frightened, a few feet down the hall, not looking. Then, suddenly, I heard the belt beginning to fall, sharply, on the girl. I turned in time to see her on her side, in her chains, receiving the last few blows. She had not been pleasing. She was a slave. Of course she was being punished.

Then Hermidorus, without further ado, took back his accouterments from Drusus and slipped them on his belt. He then fastened the belt again about his waist. I was startled that one such as he, seemingly so scholarly and gentle, possessed such uncompromising strength. The female had learned, to her sorrow, that in his presence she would not be permitted the least slackness in her discipline. "I am sorry for the interruption," Hermidorus apologized to Drusus Rencius. "That is perfectly all right," said Drusus.

The girl lay on her stomach, in her chains, in the water on the tiles. She lifted her head, gazing in pain, disbelief and awe at Hermidorus. She was a slave who had not been pleasing. She had been put under his belt.

We then continued down the hallway.

"Master," she called out, "I want to lay for you! I want to lay for you! Please have me sent to your rooms! I want to lay for you!"

Hermidorus did not look back.

I looked back. I saw in the girl's eyes that she now knew she was a slave, and helplessly so, and that she loved him.

We continued on our way.

I wondered if he would have her sent to his rooms. The decision' was his. She was a slave.

"As the house opens to the public at the tenth Ahn," said Hermidorus, "perhaps I should now take you to the office of Publius, who wished to greet. you before you left the premises." The tenth Ahn is the Gorean noon.

"Splendid," said Drusus Rencius.

We were then making our way upward from some of the lower pen areas.

I had not realized the complexities of a slaver's house, and this house was not an unusually large one. We had seen the baths and the sales yard, which is also used for exercise; we had seen various holding areas, ranging from silken, barred alcoves for superb pleasure slaves, through cells and cages of various sorts more fit for medium-priced women, to incarceration chambers that were little more than grated pits or gloomy dungeons, areas in which a slave might be terrorized to find herself placed; other holding areas, ranging from good to bad, were no more than a ring position, in a wall or on a floor; we also saw kitchens, pantries, eating areas, some with mere troughs or depressions in the floor, storage areas, guard rooms, offices, and places for the keeping of records; there were also a laundry and an infirmary; too, there were rooms where such subjects as the care and dressing of hair, the application of cosmetics, the selection and use of perfumes, manicure and pedicure, and slave costuming were taught, and even rooms where inept women, usually former members of the upper castes, could be instructed in the small domestic tasks that would now be expected of them, small services suitable for slaves, such as cleaning, cooking and sewing. Certain areas of the house, however, I was not shown, presumably because I was a free woman, such as the lowest pens, the branding chamber, the discipline room, and the rooms where girls were taught to kiss and caress, and the movements of love.

"I will be good! I will be good!" I heard a girl cry, from within a low, steel, rectangular box, shoved against the side of the passage, presumably that it would not be in the way. I stopped, startled. It had not occurred to me that a girl could be held within those small confines. Indeed, in the half-darkness of the lamp lit passage I had hardly noticed the box It was about four feet long and three feet wide, with a depth of perhaps eighteen inches. It was of steel and opened from the top. In the lid, at each end, there was a circle, about five inches in diameter, of penny-sized holes. It was locked shut, secured by two flat, steel bars, perpendicular to its long axis, padlocked, in front, in place. "I will be good!" wept the girl, from within.

"It is a slave box," said Hermidorus.

"I beg to be pleasing, Masters!" cried the girl, from within.

"Surely she must be a very tiny woman," I said, horrified, to Drusus Rencius. "She is the former Lady Tais of Farnacium," said Hermidorus. "Her house name is Didi. She is, as I recall, a normal-sized slave."

"The box is so small," I said.

"It is supposed to be small," said Drusus Rencius.

"But consider the cramping, the tightness, the girl's helplessness," I said. "Those are among its purposes," he said.

"But it is so small!" I protested.

"It is not really so small," he said.

I looked at him.

"It would be, for example," he said, "more than large enough for you." "I will obey lovingly and with total perfection, Masters," averred the woman from within the box. "I beg only to be permitted to be fully and totally pleasing to my Masters!"

"Come along," said Hermidorus.

We then, once again, followed him.

"I beg to be pleasing!" cried the woman from within the box. "I beg to be permitted to be totally pleasing!"

"She is almost ready to leave the box," said Hermidorus "Let me see the license on her," said Publius. "I see," he smiled, surveying the scrap of paper given to him by Drusus Renelus, "the' Lady Lita." He looked at me. "A pretty' name," he said.

I thought so, too.

He smiled at me, as though amused by the name. I did not understand this. "It is not her true name, of course," said Publius to Drusus Rencius. "Of course not," said Drusus Rencius.

"Doubtless, in the circles in which you travel, Lady Lita," said Publius to me, "it would not do for your friends to know how you were brought half naked and braceleted into a slaver's house."

I looked away from him. I did not deign to respond to such a remark.

"It would be quite a scandal doubtless," he said, "and make a quite good story in the telling."

I looked away, loftily, still braceleted.

"Here, Lady Lita," he said, "let us stand you in the light, where we can get a better look at you." He conducted me to a pool of light, at the foot of a shaft of light, falling from a high, barred window.

I stood there, and the men stood back, looking at me.

"She is very pretty," said Publius. "'Lita' would be a good name for her." "I think so," said Drusus Rencius.

I stood there, being inspected. I had been afraid that Publius, when he bad been conducting me to the pool of light, and placed me here, might have touched me. I could not have prevented it, in such a brief garment, with no nether closure, my hands braceleted helplessly behind my back, but he had not done so. Had he done so, of course, my condition of arousal would have been made humiliatingly and embarrassingly evident to him. I hoped that my need was not somehow evident, subtly so, in my appearance and behavior, Perhaps through body cues. I hoped, too, they could not smell "Kneel down here, Lady Lita, in the light," said Publius.

I knelt down, in the pool of light. I kept my knees closely together. I was confused, and frightened. I was kneeling before men.

"Are you sure she is free?" asked Publius.

"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.

"Interesting," said Publius. He then walked slowly about me, looking at me, and, then, again, stood a few feet before me, looking down at me.

"Look at her," he said.

"Yes?" said Drusus.

"Closely," said Publius.

"Yes?" inquired Drusus.

"Do you not see?'" asked Publius.

"What?" asked Drusus.

"She has the softness, the femininity, the look of a slave about her," he said. "I assure you," smiled Drusus, "she' is far from a slave."

"I do not think so," said Publius. "I think she is a natural slave, and would train superbly to the collar."

Drusus threw back his head and laughed at the absurdity of this thought. I myself did not find it so amusing.

"Does anyone know she is here?" asked Publius.

"No," said Drusus.

"Why do we not then enslave her?" asked Publius. "No, Lady Lita," he said, "do not rise to your feet." I had almost leapt up. My wrists wildly, suddenly, had jerked against the bracelets. They had not yielded, of course. They were not made to yield. I knelt back then, in the light, on my heels.

"It would not be difficult," said, Publius. "We could transport her from the city. Then, elsewhere, when she is suitably branded, and her neck is locked in a proper collar, when she' is fully and inescapably a slave, absolutely rightness, and in your power, we might make test of the matter."

"This woman is not a slave," said Drusus Rencius.

"A silver tarsk says she is," laughed Publius.

"How are things in Ar?" asked Drusus Rencius. "I have I not been there for a long time."

"I will get the paga," said Publius. The men then drank, and spoke of small things while I knelt in the light, braceleted, and was seldom, I think in their mind or attention. Once I noticed that my knees had opened somewhat, without my really thinking about it. I quickly closed them. I hoped no one had noticed. I wondered if I was a slave. Publius thought so, and he was a slaver. He had been willing to put a silver tarsk on the matter. I looked at Drusus. Something in me seemed to say, "You lose your tarsk, Drusus Rencius. She is a slave." Then I hastily thrust such a horrifying thought from my mind.

"Please, Drusus," I had said. "My hands have been braceleted long enough. I am beginning to feel too helpless, too much like a slave. Please release me." "I will release you in the room," he had said.

I had then continued to follow him, still braceleted, through the alleys, toward the inn of Lysias.

Why did lie not release me now? Why did be still keep mc braceleted, like a slave? Could he not see that I was almost overcome with emotion? Could he not see my misery, my distress? Could be not see how overwrought I was? Could he not see the difficulty I was having, fighting myself?

We were approaching closer and closer to the inn of Lysias. This excited and thrilled me, but, too, it frightened and terrified me. There I would be alone with Drusus Rencius, a Gorean male, in the room. What would I do? How would I act?

I moaned to myself.

I wished to run to the room, and I wished to hang back, almost as though against a leash.

Emotions raged within me, furies and resentments lingering ro~ my Earth conditionings, residues of masculine values which I had been encouraged to espouse and exemplify, and, leased on Gor, welling up from deeply within me, from what sources I could scarcely dare conjecture, alarming me, concerting me, almost overpowering feelings of helplessness, vulnerability and femininity. I did not know what to do. I did not know how to act.

"I am free," I cried to myself, "I am free! Free!"

But I was half naked and my hands were braceleted behind Each step, too, was taking me closer to the room!

I wished that I had never seen slaves, and the house of Kuenes. I wished I had never known how beautiful they _e, and how they were dominated by men, and must obey! ~ished that I had never felt these powerful emotions, in all

ir irresistibility, profundity and depth! But then I knew

t this was false. It is better to feel than not to feel. I was

overwhelmingly moved by having seen slaves, and thlilled to

re been permitted, even on a license, to see the house of

omenes. Even though I myself was surely not a s~ve my

,I knew, was a thousand times richer for having realized

t such things existed, for having seen such basic, deep, hu- and real things.

"How do you know that you are not a slave, Tiffany?" I asked myself. "How do you know that you are different from those other girls? How do you know that you are not, as Publius suggested, a natural slave? How do you know tile collar would not be quite appropriate for you? How do you know it does not, in fact, rightfully belong on you?"

"No," I said to myself, almost poutingly, "I am free!"

Then something within me, frightening me, seemed to laugh, derisively. "You are a slave, Tiffany," it said. "You know you are a slave. You have known it, in one way or another, in your heart, for years."

"No!" I said to myself. "No!" "But, yes, Slave," said the voice within me, insistently, derisively, mocking me. "No!" I said. "Yes," it whispered. "Yes, yes."

I wondered if I was a slave. The thought thrilled me, and terrified me.

Why had Drusus Rencitis not freed me from the bracelets!

We were not now in the house of Kliomenes!

"I will release you in the room," he had said.

Why would he not release me now? Why could he not be of help to me? Could he not see how I was fighting myself!

I wondered if she who was helpless in his bracelets was a slave.

Oddly enough I had felt most a slave, most dominated, ill the house of Kliomenes when, in the office of Publius, the men had talked, and I had knelt alone and to one side, my head down, in the light, neglected, braceleted, waiting for the men, the masters, "to finish.

I hurried along in the alley behind Drusus Rencius.

I tried to fight the emotions flsin'g in me, welling up, irresistibly, from my very depths. I was confused and torn. In me conditioning warred with nature. Men were the masters. Did they not know that? Why did they not enforce their power', their will on us? Could they not see what we wanted, what we needed? Were they so inattentive and insensitive? Were they so stupid, so blind? Could they not see that I, in order to attain my perfection, needed the weight of a chain, the tas~ St of a whip? Could they not see that I could not be perfect until my will was taken from me, and I must serve will-lesslyl Could "they not see that this was what I wanted? I was not man. I was a woman! I wanted to surrender to nature, but feared, mightily, to do so. I sensed what a woman might become if she surrendered to nature. I scarcely dared think i~ an let alone speak it, How categorical, how fearful, how absolute and such a thing would be! Yet I longed for it. I wished a man would throw me to my belly and lock a collar on my throat.

I wished to lie trembling at his feet, in the shadow of his Whip, knowing that thenceforth, whether I wished it or not, I existed for love, passion and service.

"Leading position," said Drusus Rencius. I swiftly put my head down and felt his fingers lock themselves deeply in my hair. I turned my head and pressed my lips suddenly, helplessly, to his thigh, kissing him. He twisted my head cruelly to the side, holding it there, turned, so that my lips could not touch him. My eyes brimmed with tears, not only from the pain, but more so, from the fact that I had been rejected.

We had then passed the stranger, approaching, in the alley.

Drusus Rencius released my hair, and I straightened up, continuing to follow him.

We were almost at tile back entrance of the inn of Lysia I had been rejected!

How furious I was at the girl who had so helplessly kissed the leg of Drusus Rencius. How she had humiliated and embarrassed me, the shameless tart! I hated and despised he~ Where had she come from? Who was she? Surely she could We were then at the back entrance of the inn of Lysias.

"Kneel here," said Drusus Rencius, indicating a place near back entrance, near some garbage cans.

I knelt, immediately, obediently.

He entered the inn. He would see if anyone was about, or we might, unobserved, make our way up tile back stairs to room.

I moaned softly, with need.

I knelt near tile back entrance of the inn, near the garbage bins. I pulled weakly against the bracelets.

I looked up, suddenly, startled. A man was standing there, king at me. He had come, apparently, from down the al- I put down my head, swiftly, so swiftly that it almost startled me, showing submission. I had seen his eyes. I was visibly frightened.

Then back door of the inn opened and Drusus, to my relief, emerged.

"She is not out for use?" asked the man.

"No," said Drusus. "Sorry." He then snapped his fingers I leaped up and, at a gesture, preceded him into the inn, up tile rear stairs. I was trembling. I was sure that in another moment or two I, utterly helpless, might have been seized and penetrated Mli the alley.

In a moment, then, we were again in the room, and Drusus had locked the door behind us.

I leaned back against the door, my head back, breathing deeply. "He thought you had been put out for raping," said Drusus, chuckling to himself.

I looked at him.

"Did you enjoy the house of Kliomenesr" asked Drusus.

How absurd to me seemed the lightness, the casual cast, of his question. The experience had been an incredibly meaningful one for me. Scarcely never before, I think, had I been so in touch with my femaleness. It was hard to conceive of aow one could be more in touch with one's femaleness, unless, of course, one were oneself a slave.

Drusus Rencius looked at me. Then I went to where he stood, and knelt down before him.

He looked down at me, angrily, startled. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Kneeling down before you," I said, "helpless, braceleted,' as a woman before a man."

His fists were clenched.

"If you want me," I said, "have me."

"Get up!" he cried. Then he seized me by the upper arms and pulled me to my feet. He held me before him.

"Taste the slave in me," I begged.

He looked down into my eyes, fiercely. His grip on- my arms, holding me absolutely helplessly, was like iron.

"Oh, would that you were a slave," he whispered, intensely.

"Would that you were a slave!"

He then, lifting me from my feet as though I might have been no more than a doll, suddenly, violently, with a cry of rage, flung me from him, yards from him, to the surface of the bed. On the bed I scrambled to my knees. The wall was at my back.

There were sounds from outside the window, cries in the street.

Drusus Rencius went to the window, listening. "Corcyrus," he said, "has seized the mines of Argentum. has begun."

"What has begun?" I asked, frightened.

"War," said Drusus Rencius.

"I will return you to the palace, immediately," be said. He I looked at him, frightened. indicated that I should lie on my belly on the bed before him. I did so and, lying on the bed, my head turned to the side, sunk partly in its softness, felt the bracelets removed from me.

I rose from the bed, pulling down the edges of the brief, one-piece garment I wore. Drusus Rencius returned the slave bracelets to his pouch. "My garments, please," I said. I would have him serve me. He handed me my garments. I retired behind the screen and, in a few moments, re-emerged.

"Lady Sheila will require a new guard," he said.

"No," I said. "I will not."

He looked at me, surprised.

"You are not relieved of your duties," I said. "You are still my guard, and will continue to serve me as such."

"Lady Sheila well knows how to torture a man," he said.

"Yes," I said. "I do."

He regarded me, bitterly.

"Return me now to the palace" I said.

"Yes, Tatrix," he said.