Kajira of Gor
By John Norman

"Do you not see it?" asked the man.
"Yes," said the fellow with him.
"It is incredible," said another.
"The resemblance is truly striking," said the second man.
"Please turn your proffle towards us, and lift your chin,
Miss Collins," said the first man.
I complied.
I was in a photographer's studio.
"A little higher, Miss Collins," said the first man.
I lifted my chin higher.
"You may change in here," had said the man earlier, indi-
cating a small dressing room off the studio. I had been
handed a pair of clogs, a white silk blouse and a pair of
black shorts.
"No brassiere or panties," he had said.
I had looked at him.
"We want no lines from them," he said.
"Of course," I had said.
          The shorts were quite short, and, even without the panties,
at least a size too small. The blouse, too, even without the
brassiere, was tight.
"Please tie up the blouse, in front," he said. "We want
some midriff."
I had complied.
"Higher," he had suggested.
I had complied.
          I had then been, to my puzzlement, photographed several
times, from the neck up, front view and profile, against a
type of chart, on which appeared various graduated lines,
presumably some type of calibrating or measuring device.
The lines, as nearly as I could determine, however, correlated
neither with inches nor centimeters.
"Now, please, step into the sand box," he had said.
          I had then stepped onto the sand, in the wide, flat box,
with the beach scene projected onto the large screen behind
me. Then, for several minutes, the photographer moving
about me, swiftly and professionally, sometimes almost inti-
mately close, and giving me commands, the camera clicking,
I had been posed in an incredible variety of positions. Men, I
had thought, must enjoy putting a woman thus through her
paces. Some of the shots were almost naughty. I think, too,
given the absence of a brassiere and panties, and the skimpi-
ness and tightness of the shorts, and the tightness of the
blouse, doubtlessly calculated features of my apparel, there
would be little doubt in the minds of the observers as to the
lineaments of my figure. I did not object, however. In fact I
rather enjoyed this. I think I am rather pretty.
          I was now standing in the sand, my left side facing the
men, my chin lifted. The lights were hot. To my left were the
lights, the tangles of cord, the men. To my right, in contrast,
there seemed the lovely, deserted beach.
"She is pretty," said one of the men.
"She is pretty enough to be a Kajira," said one of the men.
"She will be," laughed another.
I did not understand what they were talking about.
          "Do not see such a woman merely in terms of such pre-
dictable and luscious commonalities," said the first man.
"You see clearly her potential for us, do you not?"
"Of course," said the second man.
I did not understand them.
"Turn on the fan," said the first man.
          I then felt a cool breeze, blown by the large fan in front of
me. In the heat of the lights this was welcome.
          "This coin, or medal, or whatever it is, is very puzzling,"
had said the gentle, bespectacled man, holding it by the edges
with white, cotton gloves, and then placing it down on the
soft felt between us. He was an authenticator, to whom I had
been referred by a professional numismatist. His task was not
to appraise coins but to render an informed opinion on such
matters as their type and origin, where this might be obscure,
their grading, in cases where a collaborative opinion might be
desired, and their genuineness.
"Is it genuine?" I asked.
          "Who sold you this piece," asked the man, "a private
party? What did you pay for it?"
"It was given to me," I said, "by a private party."
"That is extremely interesting," said the man.
"Why?" I asked.
          "It rules out an obvious hypothesis," said the man. "Yet
such a thing would be foolish."
"I do not understand," I said.
          "Puzzling," he mused, looking down at the coin on the felt
between us, "puzzling."
I regarded him.
          "This object," lie said, "has not been struck from
machine-engraved dies. Similarly, it is obviously not the result
of contemporary minting techniques and technology. It is not
the product, for example, of a high-speed, automated coin
press."
"I do not understand," I said.
          "It has been struck by hand," he said. "Do you see how
the design is slightly off center?"
"Yes," I said.
          "That is a feature almost invariably present in ancient
coins," he said. "The planchet is warmed, to soften the metal. It
is then placed between the dies and the die cap is then struck,
literally, with a hammer, impressing the design of the obverse
and reverse simultaneously into the planchet."
"Then it is an ancient coin?" I asked.
          "That seems unlikely," he said. "Yet the techniques used in
striking this coin have not been used, as far as I know, for
centuries."
"What sort of coin is it?" I asked.
          "Too," he said, "note how it is not precision milled. It is
not made for stacking, or for storage in rolls."
          I looked at him. It did not seem to me he was being too
clear with me. He seemed independently fascinated with the
object.
          "Such coins were too precious perhaps," he said. "A roll of
them might be almost inconceivable, particularly in the sense
of having many such rolls."
"What sort of coin is it?" I asked.
          "You see, however," he asked, "how the depth of the plan-
chet allows a relief and contrast of the design with the back-
ground to an extent impossible in a flat, milled coin?"
"Yes," I said.
          "What a superb latitude that gives the artist," he said. "It
frees him from the limitations of a crude compromise with
the counting house, from the contemporary concessions
which must be made to economic functionalism. Even then,
in so small and common an object, and in so unlikely an ob-
ject, he can create a work of art."
"Can you identify the coin?" I asked.
          "This, in its depth and beauty, reminds me of ancient coins,"
he said. "They are, in my opinion, the most beautiful and in-
teresting of all coins."
"Is it an ancient coin?" I asked.
"I do not think so," he said.
"What sort of coin is it, then?" I asked.
          "Look here," be said. "Do you see how this part of the ob-
ject, at the edge, seems flatter, or straight, different from the
rest of the object's circumference?"
"Yes," I said. To be sure, one had to took closely to see it.
          "This object has been clipped, or shaved," he said. "A part
of the metal has been cut or trimmed away. 'In this fashion, if
that is not noted, or the object is not weighed, it might be ac-
cepted for, say, a certain face value, the individual- responsi-
ble for this meanwhile pocketing the clipped or shaved metal.
If this is done over a period of time, with many coins, of
course, the individual could accumulate, in metal value, a
value equivalent perhaps to one or more of the original ob-
jects."
"Metal value?" I asked.
          "In modem coinage," be said, "we often lose track of such
things. Yet, if one thinks about it, at least in the case of
many coins, a coin is a way in which a government or ruler
certifies that a given amount of precious metal is involved in a
transaction. It saves weighing and testing each coin. The coin,
in a sense, is an object whose worth or weight, in standard-
ized quantities, is certified upon it, and guaranteed, so to
speak, by an issuing authority. Commerce as we know it
would be impossible, of course, without such, objects, and
notes, and credit and such."
"Then the object is a coin?" I said.
"I do not know if it is a coin or not," said the man.
"What else could it be?" I asked.
          "It could be many things," he said. "It might be a token or
a medal. It might be an emblem of membership in an organi-
zation or a device whereby a given personage might be recog-
nized by another. It might be a piece of art intended to be
mounted in jewelry. It might even be a piece in some game."
"Can you identify it?" I asked.
"No," he said.
          The object was about an inch and a half in diameter and
about three eighths of an inch in thickness. It was yellowish,
and, to me, surprisingly heavy for its size.
"What about the letter on one side?" I asked.
          "It may not be a letter," be said. "It may be only a
design." It seemed a single, strong, well-defined character. "If
it is a letter," he said, "it is not from an alphabet with which
I am familiar."
"There is an eagle on the other side," I said, helpfully.
          "Is there?" he asked. He turned the coin on the felt,
touching it carefully with the cotton gloves.
I looked at the bird more closely.
"It is not an eagle," be said. "It has a crest."
"What sort of bird is it?" I asked.
          He shrugged. "Perhaps it is a bird from some mythology,"
be said, "perhaps a mere artist's whimsy."
          I looked at the fierce head on the surface of the yellowish
object.
It frightened me.
"It does not appear to be a whimsy," I said.
"No," be smiled. "It doesn't, does it?"
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" I asked.
          "No," He said, "aside, of course, from its obvious resem-
blance to ancient coins."
"I see," I said.
          "I was afraid," he said, "when you brought it in, that you
were the victim of an expensive and cruel hoax. I had
thought perhaps you had paid a great deal of money for this,
before having its authenticity ascertained. On the other hand,
it was given to you. You were thus not being defrauded in
that manner. As you perhaps know coins can be forged, just
as, say, paintings and other works of art can be forged. For-
tunately these forgeries are usually detectable, particularly un-
der magnification, for example, from casting marks or filing
marks from seam joinings, and so on. To be sure, sometimes
it is very difficult to tell if a given coin is genuine or not. It is
thus useful for the circumspect collector to deal with es-
tablished and reputable dealers. Similarly the authentication
of a coin can often proceed with more confidence if some evi-
dence is in band pertaining to its history, and its former
owners, so to speak. One must always be a bit suspicious of
the putatively rare and valuable coin which seems to appear
inexplicably, with no certifiable background, on the market,
particularly if it lacks the backing of an established house."
	"Do you think this object is genuine?" I asked.
	"There are two major reasons for believing it is genuine,"
he said, "whatever it might be. First, it shows absolutely no
signs of untypical. production, such as being cast rather than
struck, of being the result of obverse-reverse composition, or
of having been altered or tampered with in any way. Second-
ly, if it were a forgery, what would it be a forgery of? Con-
sider the analogy of counterfeiting. The counterfeiter
presumably wishes to deceive people. Its end would not be
well served by producing a twenty-five dollar bill, which was
purple and of no familiar design. There would be no point in
it. It would defeat his own purposes."
"I understand," I said.
          "Thus," said the man, "it seems reasonable to assume that
this object, whatever it is, is genuine."
"Do you think it is a coin?" I asked.
          "It gives every evidence of being a coin," he said. "It looks
like a coin. Its simplicity and design do not suggest that it is
commemorative in nature. It has been produced in a manner
in which coins were often produced, at least long ago and in
the classical world. It has been clipped or shaved, something
that normally occurs only with coins which pass through
many hands. It even has bag marks."
"What are those?" I asked.
          "This object, whatever it is," said the man, "can clearly be
graded according to established standards recognized in nu-
mismatics. It is not even a borderline case. You would not re-
quire an expert for its grading. Any qualified numismatist
could grade it. If this were a modern, milled coin, it would be
rated Extremely Fine. It shows no particular, obvious signs of
wear but its surface is less perfect than would be required to
qualify it as being Uncirculated or as being in Mint State. If
this were an ancient coin, it would also qualify as being Ex-
trernely Fine, but here the grading standards are different.
Again there are almost no signs of wear and the detail, ac-
cordingly, is precise and sharp. It shows good centering and
the planchet, on the whole, is almost perfectly formed. Some
minor imperfections, such as small nicks, are acceptable in
this category for ancient coins."
"But what are bag marks?" I asked.
"You may not be able to detect them with the naked eye.
he said. "Use this."
          From a drawer in the desk he produced a boxlike, mount-
ed magnifying glass. This he placed over the coin, and
snapped on the desk lamp.
"Do you see the tiny nicks?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, after a moment.
          "Those are bag marks," he said. "They are the result, usu-
ally, of the coin, or object, being kept with several others,
loose, in, say, a bag or box."
          "There might, then," I asked, looking up from the magni-
fying device, "be a large number of other objects like this
somewhere?" That I found a very interesting thought.
          "Surely," said the man. "On the other hand, such marks
could obviously have other causes, as well."
"Then all the evidence suggests that this is a coin?" I said.
          "The most crucial piece of evidence," he said, "however,
suggests that it cannot be a coin."
"What is that?" I asked.
"That it fits into no known type or denomination of coin."
"I see," i said.
          "As far as I know," he said, "no city, kingdom, nation or
civilization on Earth ever produced such a coin."
"Then it is not a coin," I said.
          "That seems clear," be said. "No," he said. "Do not pay
me."
I replaced his fee in my purse.
          "The object is fascinating," he said. "Simply to consider it,
in its beauty and mystery, is more than payment enough."
"Thank you," I said.
          "I am sorry that I could not be more helpful," be said.
"Wait!" be called after me. I had turned to the door. "Do not
forget this," he said, picking up the small, round, heavy ob-
ject on the felt.
          I turned back to face him. I was angry. I had thought that
the object might have had some value.
"It is only sonic sort of hoax," I said, bitterly.
          "Perhaps," he said, smiling, "but, if I were you, I would
take it along with me."
"Why?" I asked.
"It has metal value, or bullion value," he said.
"Oh?" I asked.
"Yes, he said. "Do you not understand what it is corn
posed of?"
"No," I said.
"It is gold," he said.
          I had hurried back and snatched the object, and put it in
my purse. I had then, hurriedly, left his office.
"Turn up the fan," said the man, he who seemed in charge
of those in the photographer's studio. The fan was turned up.
"Keep facing as you are," be said, "your left side to us, your
chin lifted, Thal's good." My hair was lifted and blown back,
I felt the breeze from the fan, too, pressing my blouse back
against me, even more closely. It rippled the silk at the sides.
It tugged at the collar. The ends of the blouse, where I bad
tied them together, high on my midriff, as the man had re-
quested, fluttered backward. "Now arch your back and lift
your hands to your hair," he said. "Good, excellent," he said.
I was not a professional model. I had often thought that I
was beautiful enough to be one, but I was not one.
          I heard the camera clicking. "Excellent," said the man.
"Now look at us, over your left shoulder."
          I had had the yellowish, metallic object assayed. It had
indeed been gold. I had sold it to a bullion dealer. It would
be melted down. I had received eighteen hundred dollars for

          "Now, face us, crouching slightly, your hands at your hair,"
said the man. "Good."
          These men, perhaps, wanted to train me as a model. Yet I
suspected this was not their true purpose. I was not particular
as to what might be their true purpose, incidentally. They ob-
viously possessed the means to pay me well.
          "Now smile, Tiff any," said the man. "Good. Non crouch
down in the sand, your hands on your knees. Good. Now put
your left knee in the sand. Have your hands on your hips.
Put your shoulders back. Good. Smile. Good."
"Good," said one of the other men
          too. I could see they
were pleased with me. This pleased Vie, too. I now felt more
confident that they might hire me. For whatever object they
wanted me I could sense that my beauty was not irrelevant to
it. This pleased me, as I am vain of my beauty. Why should a
girl not use her beauty to serve her ends, and to get ahead?
"Now face the camera directly, with your, left hand on
your thigh and your right hand on your knee," said the man,
"and assume an expression of wounded feelings. Good."
"She is good," said one of the other men.
"Yes," agreed another.
          "Now assume an expression of apprehension," said the first
man.
"Good," said the second man.
          I normally worked at the perfume and notions counter in a
large department store on Long Island. It was there that I
had been discovered, so to speak. I had become aware, sud-
denly, that I was the object of the attention of the man who
was now directing this photography session. "It is incredible,"
he had said, as though to himself. He seemed unable to take
his eyes from me. I was used to men looking at me, of
course, usually pretending not to, usually furtively. I had
been chosen to work at that counter because I was pretty,
much like pretty girls often being selected to sell lingerie.
Such employee placements are often a portion of a store's
merchandising strategies. But this man was not looking at me
in the same way that I was accustomed to being looked at
He was not looking at me furtively, pretending to be inter-
ested in something else, or even frankly, like some men of
Earth, rare men, who look honestly upon a female, seeing her
as what she is, a female. Rather he was looking at me as
though he could scarcely believe what he was seeing, as
though I might be someone else, someone he perhaps knew
from somewhere, someone be would not have expected to
have found in such a place. He approached the counter. He
regarded me, intently.
I think I had never been so closely regarded. I was uneasy.
"May I help you?" I asked.
          He said something to me in a language I did not under-
stand. I regarded him, puzzled.
"May I help you?" I asked.
"This is incredibly fortunate," he said, softly.
"Sir?" I asked.
          "You bear a striking resemblance to someone else," he
said. "It is remarkable."
          I did not speak. I had thought he might have begun by
asking if he did not know me from somewhere. That strata-
gem, the pretext of a possible earlier acquaintance, hack-
neyed and familiar though it might be, still affords a
societal acceptable approach to a female. If she is unrecep-
tive, he may, of course, courteously withdraw. It was merely
a case of mistaken identity.
"It was almost as though it was she," he said.
          I did not encourage him. I did not, for example, ask who
this other person might be.
"I do not think I know you," I said.
"No," he smiled. "I would not think that you would."
"I am also sure that I am not this oiber person," I said.
          "No," he said. "I can see now, clearly, that you are not.
Too, I can sense that you lack her incisive intellect, her feroc-
ity, her hardness, her cruelty."
"I am busy," I said.
"No," he said, his eyes suddenly bard. "You are not."
          I shrugged, as though irritated. But I was frightened, and I
think be knew it. I was then terribly conscious of his
maleness and power. He was not the sort of man to whom a
woman might speak in such a manner. He was rather the sort
of man whom a woman must obey.
"May I help you?" I asked.
"Show me your most expensive perfume," he said.
I showed it to him.
"Sell it to me," he said. "Interest me in it."
"Please," I said.
"Display it," be said. "Am I not a customer?"
I looked at him.
          "Spray some of it upon your wrist," he said. "I shall see if
it interests me."
I did so.
"Extend your wrist," be said. I did so, with the palm up-
ward. This is an extremely erotically charged gesture, of
course, extending the delicate wrist, perfumed, to the male,
with the tender, vulnerable palm upward.
          He took my wrist in both his hands. I shivered. I knew I
could never break that grip.
          He put down his face, over my wrist, and inhaled, deeply,
intimately, sensuously.
I shuddered.
"It is acceptable," he said, lifting his bead.
          "It is our most expensive perfume," I said. He had not yet
released my wrist.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"I cannot afford it," I said.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Of course," I said.
          He released my wrist. "I shall take it," he said. "Wrap it,"
he said, "as a gift."
"It is seven hundred dollars an ounce," I said.
"It is overpriced for its quality," he said.
"It is our best," I said.
          He -drew a wallet from his jacket and withdrew several
hundred-dollar bills from itg recesses. I could see that it held
many more hills.
          Trembling, I wrapped the perfume. When I had finished I
took the money.
          "There is a thousand dollars here," I said, moving as
though to return the extra bills.
          "Keep what you do not need for the price and tax,"'he
said.
"Keep it?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"It is over two hundred dollars," I said.
"Keep it," he said.
          While I busied myself with the register he wrote something
on a small card.
          "Thank you," I said, uncertainly, sliding the tiny package
toward him with the tips of my fingers.
          He pushed it back towards me. "it is for you," he said, "of
course."
"For me?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "When is your day off?"
"Wednesday," I said.
          "Come to this address," he said, "at ten o'clock in the
morning, this coming Wednesday." He placed the small white
card before me.
I looked at the address. It was in Manhattan.
"We shall be expecting you," he said.
"I do not understand," I said.
          "It is the studio of a friend of mine," he said, "a photogra-
pher. He does a great deal of work for certain advertising
agencies."
          ,"Oh," I said. I sensed that this might be the opening to a
career, of great interest to me, one in which I might be able
to capitalize, and significantly, on my beauty.
"I see that you are interested," he said.
I shrugged. "Not really," I said. I would play hard to get.
"We do not accept prevarication in a female," he said.
          "A female?" I said. I felt for a moment Iliad been reduced
to my radical essentials.
"Yes," he said.
          I felt angry and, admittedly, not a little bit aroused by his
handling of me.
          "I hardly know you. I can't accept this money, or this per-
fume," I said.
"But you will accept it, won't you?" he said.
I put down my bead. "Yes," I said.
"We shall see you Wednesday," he said.
"I shan't be coming," I said.
          "We recognize that your time, as of now," he said, "is
valuable."
          I did not understand what he meant by the expression 'as
of now.'
          He then pressed into my band the round, heavy, yellowish
object which I had later taken to the shop of a numismatist,
and then, later, on the advice of the numismatist, to the office
of a specialist in the authentication of coins.
"This is valuable," he said, "more so elsewhere than here."
          Again I did not understand the nuances of his speech. I
looked down at the object in m~ band. I assumed, from its
shape and appearance, it might be some kind of coin. If so,
however, I certainly did not recognize it. It seemed alien to
me, totally unfamiliar. I clutched it, then, however, for he
had told me that it was valuable.
"You are a greedy little thing, aren't you?" he said.
          "I shan't be coming," I told him, petulantly. He made me
angry. Too, he made me feel terribly uneasy. He made me
feel uncomfortably, and deeply, female. Such feelings were
terribly stimulating, but also, in their way, terribly unsettling.
I did not know, really, how to cope with them.
          I decided I would take the beginning of next week off from
work. I would try to find out something about the yellowish
object. I would, then try to think things out. Then, at my lei-
sure, I would decide whether or not to go to the stipulated
address on Wednesday.
"We shall see you on Wednesday," he said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"Wear the perfume," he said.
"All right," I said.
          "Now kneel in the sand, facing the camera," said the man.
"Kneel back on your heels. Place the palms of your hands
down on your thighs. Lift your head. Put your shoulders
back. Spread your knees."
"Excellent," said one of the men.
          "Now assume the same position," said the man, "but in
profile to the camera, your left side facing us. Keep your
head up. Put your shoulders back more. Good. Splendid"
"Splendid!" said another man.
          "Now face the camera on all fours," he said. "Good. Now
lift your head and purse your lips, as though to kiss. More.
More sensuously. Now close your eyes. Good.
"Splendid," said another man.
          "Open your eyes now and unpurse your lips, and turn,
staying on all fours, so that your left side is facing us, so that
we have your profile to the camera."
I complied.
"Now put your head down," he said.
I did so.
"Splendid!" said one of the men.
"Splendid!" said another.
          I was keenly conscious of the radical submissiveness of this
posture. I almost trembled with arousal. I dared not even
think of the effect of such a posture upon a woman if she
had been put in it by men who were truly in power over her.
"She will do very nicely, I think," said the first man.
"She will be ideal for our purposes," said another.
"You may get up, Tiff any," said the first man.
          I rose to my feet. I gathered that the session was over. I
was confident that they were pleased.
          The fan, which had produced the surrogate of an ocean
breeze, was turned off. The photographer began to extinguish
his lights and put them to the side, in a line against the wall.
One of the men turned off the projector and the beach scene
which had been projected behind me vanished, leaving in its
-place a featureless, opaque, white screen.
          "You are very pretty, Tiffany, Miss Collins," said the first
man. "And you did very well."
"Thank you," I said.
"You may now change," he said.
          "W6 well," I said. I feared I might be being dismissed. I
returned to the dressing room. I could hear them talking out-
side, but I could not make out what they were saying. In a
few moments I emerged from the dressing room. I wore a
man-tailored, beige blazer with a rather severe, matching
pleated skirt, with a rather strict white '61ouse, of synthetic
material, and medium heels. I had wished to present a rather
businesslike look. I did not wish to wear particularly feminine
clothes as men are inclined to see women who do this as fe-,
males, and behave towards them and, relate to them as such.
Women are no longer forced, in effect, to dress as females, in
particular ways, with all the dynamic, attendant psychological
effects for both sexes which might accrue to such a practice.
          I then stood before the fellow who seemed to be in charge.
I saw that be did not particularly approve of my ensemble. I
hoped this would not diminish my chances of meeting what-
ever requirements they might have in mind with respect to
my acceptability. Perhaps I should have worn something
more feminine. After all, I was a woman. Too, the shorts and
blouse in which I bad been placed, for the pictures, left little
doubt in my mind that my femaleness, at least in some sense
or another, might well be pertinent to their interests.
          "Perhaps I should have worn something less severe?" I
said, tentatively. I did want to be pleasing to them. Obviously
they had a good deal of money to spend. Too, interestingly,
they were the sort of men towards whom, independently, I
felt a strong, disturbing, almost inexplicable desire to be
pleasing.
"Your attire does seem a bit defensive," he said.
          'Perhaps," I smiled. How interestingly, I thought, he had
put that.
          "Such defenses, of course," he said, "may be removed
from a woman."
          His remark, rightly or wrongly, struck me as being broader
and deeper in its meaning than the mere bantering witticism
it might have been taken to be. It suggested more to me, un-
settling me, than a mere change of, or removal of, attire. It
suggested to me, for a moment, a reference to a world in
which a woman might be without defenses, fully, a world in
which she was simply not permitted defenses.
          "Perhaps I should have worn something more feminine," I
said.
          He regarded me, appraisingly. I sensed that he was looking
past the severe man-tailored blazer, the rather strict blouse,
the rather strict, beige pleated skirt. As they had had me pose
in the shorts and blouse, and had had me move, I was sure
they had little doubt, for most practical purposes, as to what
I looked like.
          "If you are selected," he said, "any apparel which you
might receive, I assure you, wi1l leave little doubt as to your
femininity."
"If I am selected?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
          "It is my hope that I pleased you," I said. "I thought you
were pleased." One of the men, I recalled, had thought that I
might be ideal for their purposes.
"We are pleased," he said, "very. You did very well."
          "When will you be able to make your decision?" I asked.
"When will I learn whether or not I have been selected?"
          "For one thing," said the man, "you have already been
selected."
One of the men laughed.
          "That decision we are empowered to Make," said the first
man. "The second decision, that with respect to the more im-
portant post, so to speak, of necessity, must be made else-
where."
"May I call you?" I asked.
"We have your number," he said.
          "I understand," I said. I was not really displeased, for he
bad told me that for one thing, at any rate, I had already
been selected.
          "Process the photos, immediately," he said to the photogra-
pher.
The photographer nodded.
          They were apparently going to proceed expeditiously in the
matter. This pleased me. I do not like to wait.
          "When do you think you will know," I asked, "-about the
more important post7"
"it will take at least several days," he said.
"Oh," I said.
          "Come here,"-he said, beckoning to me. I went and stood
quite close to him. "Put down your head," he said. I did so,
and he, moving behind me, and pulling the collar of my
blouse out a bit with his finger, put his head down, close to
the side of my face, by my neck. He inhaled, deeply.
"Yes," I said, "I am wearing the perfume, as you asked."
"As I commanded," he said.
"Yes," ' I said, softly, rather startled at myself, "as you com-
manded. " Is
         I then left. I wore his perfume.
	I turned off the shower.
         It must have been about ten minutes after eight in the eve-
ing.  It was now some six weeks after my test, or interview, or
whatever it had been, in the photographer's studio. On each
Monday of these six weeks I had received in the mail, in a
plain white envelope without a return address, a one-hundred-
dollar bill. This money, I bad gathered, was in the nature
of some sort of a retainer. I recalled that the man who had
first seen me at the perfume counter, he who seemed to
'be in charge of the group, had said that he recognized that
my time, as of now, was valuable. I was still not clear on
what he had meant by the phrase 'as of now.' These bills, un-
til a few days ago, had been my only evidence that the men
had not forgotten me. Then, on a Monday evening, a few
days ago, the Monday before last, at eight o'clock, I bad re-
ceived a phone call. I bad returned home to my small apart-
ment only a few minutes earlier, from the local supermarket.
I was putting away groceries and was not thinking of the men
at all. I had, to be sure, taken the hundred-dollar bill from
the mail box earlier and put it in my dresser. This had be-
come for me, however, almost routine. I was, at any rate, not
thinking of the men. When the phone rang my first reaction
was one of irritation. I picked up the phone. "Hello," I said.
"Hello?" Then I was suddenly afraid. I was not sure there
was someone on the line. "Hello?" I said. Then, after a mo-
ment's silence, a male voice on the other end of the line
spoke quietly and precisely. I did not recognize the voice.
"You have been selected," it said. "Hello!" I said. "Hello
Who is this?" Then the line was dead. He had hung up. The
next two nights I waited by the phone at eight o'clock. It was
silent. It rang, however, on Thursday, precisely at eight. I
seized the receiver from its hook. I was told to report the
next evening to the southwest corner of a given intersection
in Manhattan at precisely eight P.M. There I would be
picked up by a limousine.
          I was almost sick with relief when I saw that the man I
knew, he whom I had met at the perfume counter, he who
had seemed in charge of the others, was in the limousine. The
other two were with him, too, one with him in the back seat
and one riding beside the driver. I did not recognize the
driver.
          "Congratulations, Miss Collins!" he said, warmly. "You
have been fully approved. You qualify with flying colors, as I
had thought you would, on all counts."
"Wonderful!" I said.
          The driver bad now left the vehicle and come about, to
open the door. The man I knew stepped out, and, while the
driver held the door, motioned that I might enter. I did so,
and then he entered behind me. The driver shut the door, and
returned about the vehicle to his place. I was sitting between
the two men in the back of the limousine.
"I had hoped I might qualify," I said.
          "I was confident you would," he said. "You have the ap-
pearance, and, independently, the beauty and the dispositions.
You are perfectly suited to our purposes."
          "Am I to gather that I have been found acceptable for
what you spoke of as the more important position, or post, or
something like that, then?" I asked.
"Precisely," he said, warmly.
          "Good," I said, snuggling back against the seat. I was quite
pleased. These men, it seemed, were rich, or, at least, had
access to considerable wealth. They would doubtless be
willing to pay highly for the use of my beauty.
          "I recall, you said," I said, "that I had already been select-
ed for one thing, even at the photographer's studio."
          "Yes," he said.
	"But it was less important, I gather, than this other, more
prestigeus assignment, or position?"
          "Yes he said. "The other position, so to speak, could be
filled by almost any beautiful woman."
"I see," I said.
"And if there should come a time in which your services
are no longer required for this more important post, as I have
put it, you might still, I am sure, meet the qualifications f or
this other thing."
"That is reassuring," I said.
The man on my left smiled.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
          "Were you given permission to speak?" asked the man I
knew, he who had originally seen Me in the department store,
he on my right.
I looked at him, startled.
          "Kneel down here," he said, pointing to the floor of the
car, "your left side to the back of the front seat." I did so,
frightened. I was the only woman in the car. "Get on your
hands and knees," he said. I did so. I could then, facing as I
was, see him, by lifting and turning my head. He was unfold-
ing a blanket. "You will not speak," be said, "until five
minutes after you have left the limousine." He then, opening
the blanket, cast it over me. I on all fours before them, cov-
ered by the blanket, hidden by it, was in consternation. The
limousine drove on. No one outside the car could have told
that I was in the car. I was silent.
          As I knelt on all fours before them my mind was racing.
Why had they done this? Perhaps they did not wish anyone
to know that I was in the car with them. Perhaps they did
not wish for me to be recognized with them, or they with me.
Perhaps they were driving to some secret location, which they
did not wish me to know. I was frightened. I did not know
what their purposes were. After a time they let me lie down
at their feet, with my legs drawn up, still covered with the
blanket. I lay near their shoes. Once they even stopped for
gas. "Do not move," I was told. I was perfectly quiet, at their
feet. They drove about for at least four hours. It was all-I
could do to keep from rubbing my thighs together and moan-
ing.
          Then the limousine pulled to one side and stopped. The
blanket was lifted from me.
          "You may get out now," said the man who seemed in
charge, pleasantly.
          I rose to my feet and, crouching down, my muscles aching,
stepped from the limousine. The driver bad remained in his
place. The man who had been to my right when I was sitting,
he who seemed to be in charge of the others, bad opened the
door. I stood outside then, on the curb. There was traffic. The
lights were bright. I was in the same place where I had origi-
nally been picked up, at the southwest corner of the intersec-
tion in Manhattan. It was a little after midnight.
          .1 watched the limousine drive away, disappearing in the
traffic. I did not really understand what they had done, or
why they had done it. I stood back on the sidewalk then. I
was extremely disturbed. I was almost trembling. Too, inex-
plicably, it seemed, I was terribly aroused, sexually.
Why had they done what they did?
          For the first time in my life I had been put to the feet of
men, and kept, uncompromisingly, in ignorance and silence.
          They had dominated me. I almost trembled, filled with un-
familiar sensations and emotions. These feelings, these re-
sponses, were not simply genital. They seemed to suffuse,
overwhelmingly, my whole body and mind.
I became aware of a man asking me for directions.
          I turned away from him, suddenly, and hurried away. I
had not yet been out of the limousine for five minutes. I
could not yet speak.
          I took my hand from the shower handle. A few drops of
water descended from the shower head. It was warm and
steamy in the bathroom, from the warm water which I had
been running. It was about ten or eleven minutes after eight
P.M. It was Tuesday. Yesterday, on Monday evening, at
eight-P.M., I had received another call. I had been instructed
to take a shower at precisely eight P.M. this evening. I had
done so. I slid back the shower curtain. There was steam on
the walls and mirrors. I looked for my robe. I had thought I
had left it on the vanity. It was not there. I stepped from the
shower stall, and picked up a towel and began to dry myself.
          Suddenly I stopped, frightened. I had thought I had heard
a noise oil the other side of the bathroom door, from beyond
the tiny ball outside, perhaps from the tiny kitchen or the
combination living and dining room.
"Is there anyone there?" I called, frightened. "Who is it?"
          "It is 1, Miss Collins," said a voice. "Do not be alarmed." I
recognized the voice. It was he I took to be the leader of the
men with whom I had been in contact, that of he who had
first seen me at the perfume counter.
          "I am not dressed," I called. I thrust shut the bolt on the
bathroom door. I did not understand how he could have ob-
tained entrance. I had had the door to the apartment not only
locked but bolted.
"Have you cleaned your body?" he asked.
          "Yes," I said. I thought he had put that in an unusual fash-
ion.
"Have you washed your hair?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. I had done so.
"Come out," he said.
"Do you see my robe out there?" I called.
"Use a towel," he said.
          "I will be out in a moment," I said. I hastily dried my hair
and put a towel about it, and then I wrapped a large towel
about my body, tucking it shut under my left arm. I looked
about for my slippers. I had thought I had put them at the
foot of the vanity. But they, like the robe, did not seem to be
where I thought I had left them. I slid back the bolt on the
bathroom door and, barefoot, entered the hall. There were, I
saw, three men in the kitchen. One was he whom I now knew
well. The other two, who wore uniforms; much of a sort one
expects in professional movers, I did not recognize.
          "You look lovely," said the first man, he whom I recog-
nized, he who was, by now, familiar to me.
"Thank you," I said.
"Make us some coffee," he said.
          I proceeded, frightened, to do so. I was very conscious of
my state of dishabille. Their eyes, I could sense, were much
on me. I felt very small among their powerful bodies. I was
conscious, acutely, how different I was from them.
          "How did you get in?" I asked, lightly, when the coffee
was perking.
          "With this," he said, taking a small, metallic, pen like object
from his left, inside jacket pocket. He clicked a switch on it.
There was no visible beam. He then clicked the switch again,
presumably turning it off.
"I do not understand," I said.
          "Come along," he said, smiling, and getting up from be-
hind the kitchen table. I followed him into the combination
living and dining room. I noticed the coarse, fibrous texture
of the rug on my bare feet. The other two men followed us
into this room.
          "There is my robe," I said, "and my slippersl" The robe
was thrown over an easy chair. The slippers had been
dropped at its base.
"Leave them," be said.
I knew I bad not put them there.
          He opened the door to the apartment and looked outside.
He was seeing, I supposed, if anyone was in the hall.
He stepped outside. "Lock and bolt the door," he said.
          I did so. I then stood, waiting, behind the locked, bolted
door. I glanced back at the other two men, in their garb like
professional movers. They stood behind me, in the apartment,
their arms folded.
          I heard a tiny noise. Fascinated, I saw the bolt turn and
slide back. I then heard the door click. The man re-entered
the apartment. He closed the door behind him. He returned
the penlike object to his pocket.
          "I did not know such things existed," I said, Inadvertently,
frightened, I put my hand to my breast. I was very much
aware that only a towel stood between me and this stranger.
"They do," he smiled.
"I didn't bear you enter," I said.
          "It makes little noise," he said. "Too, you had the water
running
          "You knew, of course," I said, "that I would not hear you
enter."
"Of course," he said.
          It had been in accordance with his instructions that I had
been showering at the time.
          "What are those things?" I asked. I referred to two objects.
One was a large carton and the other was a weighty, sturdy
metal box, about three feet square. The metal box looked as
though it would fit into the carton, and, presumably, had
been removed from it, after having been brought into the
room.
"Never mind them now," be said.
          The metal box appeared extremely heavy and strong. It re-
minded me of a safe. I wondered if it was. Too, I wondered
why it had been brought to the apartment.
          "Is that a safe?" I asked, indicating the box. It was sitting
on the rug, like the carton. It was squat and stout, and effi-
cient looking. Because of its weight it was impressed, with
sharp lines, into the rug.
          "Not really," he said. "But it may be used for the securing
of valuables."
          I nodded. There seemed little doubt about that. It appeared
to me, indeed, that it might serve very well, by virtue of its
strength and weight, for the securing of valuables. I conjec-
tured that 1, with my strength, would scarcely be able to
move it about.
          "What is in it?" I asked. I was curious. In the side of the
box facing me I could see two small holes, about the size of
pennies. I could not, however,, because of the light, and the
size of the holes, see into the interior of the box. The interior
of the box was, from my point of view, frustratingly dark.
"Nothing," he said.
          "I see," I said, in an acid tone. I was certain he was not
being candid with me.
"Come over here," he said, pleasantly, beckoning to me.
I joined him.
          I glanced over at my robe on the easy chair, and the slip-
pers at its foot.
          "My robe and slippers," I said, "were in the bathroom,
were they not?"
"Yes," he said.
          "You then entered the bathroom while I was showering,
and removed them, did you not?"
"Yes," he said.
          I had neither seen nor heard him doing this, of course. The
water had been running. The shower curtain had been drawn.
"Why?" I asked.
          "We decided that you would appear before us much as you
are," he said.
"But, why?" I asked.
          "It would be more convenient for us," he said. "Matters
might then proceed somewhat more simply for u~ than might
otherwise have been the case."
          I was angry. Obviously I had been manipulated. I had been
ordered to shower. Then, while I had showered, my apart-
ment had been entered and my robe and slippers removed
from the bathroom. I had been surprised in my own apart-
ment. Then I had been given little alternative other than to
present myself before them, doubtless as they had planned,
well cleaned, fresh from the shower, and half naked.
"Are you angry?" he -asked.
          "No," I said, suddenly, "of course not." I was suddenly
afraid that they might cease to find me pleasing. Doubtless
their entry into my apartment had some purpose. I was then
certain I understood their motivations. They had wished to
take me by surprise, to observe my reactions, to see me as
though I might be confused or startled, to see bow fetching'
and exciting I might appear, captured, so to speak, in a mo-
ment of charming disarray. I hoped I had not disappointed
them. Doubtless they were interested in testing me for a per-
formance in some commercial, perhaps having to do with
soaps or beauty products. I hoped that my responses had not
jeopardized my chances for participation in whatever might
be their intended projects. I did so want to please them. They
paid well.
          He was looking down at me. He was so large and strong. I
was afraid he was not pleased. I smiled my prettiest up at
him. I adjusted the towel a bit about my breasts, seemingly
inadvertently, accidentally, pulling it down a bit, and then,
hastily, with seeming modesty, tucking it securely, much
higher, even more closely, about my body. "It is only," I
smiled, "that you took me by such surprise. I did not know
what to do."
"I understand," he said.
          "It is not every day," I said, smiling, "that a girl finds her-
self surprised in her own apartment and then, in effect,
forced to present herself before unexpected guests clad only
in a towel."
"'Mat is true," he said.
I smiled again.
          "I hope that you are still interested in me," I said, teas-
ingly, and, I am afraid, a bit anxiously.
"Perhaps," he said.
I would have preferred a more affirmative response.
          There was a moment of awkward silence. I hoped they
were not disappointed. I did not want to fail to please them. I
would have been willing to do anything. I would even have
been willing to let them hold me in their arms, or kiss me. I
would even have been willing to let them make love to me. I
knew such things were common. Why should a girl not turn
her charms to her own profit? I did not want them to lose in-
terest in me. They paid well.
"The coffee is ready," he said.
"Yes," I said, gratefully. I could no longer bear it perking.
I recalled I had been told to make it.
I hurried into the kitchen.
          In a few moments I was serving them coffee, in white cups
on the rectangular, black-legged, white-topped Formica table.
The kitchen tiles felt smooth and cool under my feet. They
sat about the table. I felt aroused, and very feminine, serving
them. I then poured myself a cup.
          "Put your cup on the floor," said the man, "there, on the
tiles."
Puzzled, crouching down, I did so.
"Now, kneel behind it," he said.
          I knelt down on the tiles, behind the cup, the refrigerator
to my right, the table, with the men seated about it, in front
of me.
They sipped their coffee.
"You may drink," said the man.
I reached for the cup, before me, on the floor. I lifted it.
          "No," he said. "Do not hold it by the handle. Hold it in
your hands, as a bowl."
          I then sipped the coffee in this fashion, the cup warm in
my fingers. I then put it down. They were using the handles
of their cups, I noted. And, too, of course, they were sitting
at the table. Why should they be sitting, and I kneeling, I
asked myself. Are we not the same? Are we not identical? I
watched them drinking in the customary fashion. Then 1,
again, sipped coffee from the cup, holding it in both hands,
like a small bowl. I felt an urge to put the cup aside, tear off
the towel, and put my body naked to the cool tiles before
them, at their feet. I wondered what the tiles would feel like
against me, against my breasts, my belly, my thighs.
The men finished their coffee.
he
          "Have you finished your coffee?" asked he who. seemed in
charge.
          I finished the coffee, holding the cup as I had been instruct-
ed to do. "Yes," I said.
"You may clear the table," he said.
          I rose to my feet and put my cup in the sink. I then went
to the table. I began to gather together their cups. "What is in
the metal box?" I asked, lightly.
"I told you," he said. "Nothing."
          I stacked the cups and carried them to the sink. "Really?"
I asked.
Yes," he said.
          "I thought maybe you were delivering something to the
apartment," I' said.
"No," he said.
I rinsed off the cups.
"Is it really empty?" I asked.
          "Now," he said, to one of his fellows, "we need not listen
to her blithering."
          I felt my bead pulled back. There was apparently a ring at
the back of the leather pad now pressed so closely into the
back of my neck.
I shook my head. I whimpered.
          The man then jerked the towel from my hair. I looked at
him. I shook my head. He then jerked away the towel I wore
on my body. I was then turned and thrown on my belly, on
the table, the two assistants pressing me helplessly against it,
holding me tightly down by the arms. The men, when I had
been stripped, had not even paused to look at me. They had
seen, I gathered, many women.
          I felt a piece of cotton or cloth touch my back, above and
behind my left hip. It was wet. The area then felt cool. Then
I whimpered. I felt a needle being entered into my flesh, in
the center of that chemically chilled area. Tears sprang to my
eyes. The needle was then withdrawn and I felt the area
swabbed again with fluid. I was then drawn from the table
and, by the arms, carried into the combination living and din-
ing room of my small apartment. Their leader then, be who
had ankleted me, opened the side of the stout, metal con-
tainer. It had a heavy door. Inside were various straps, and
rings.
I tried to struggle.
"Resistance is useless, Miss Collins," said the man.
I looked at him pleadingly.
          Then I was thrust, in a sitting position, into the box. The
ring at the back of the gag, doubtless sewn into the slotted
leather pad, was snapped about a ring mounted at a matching
height in the box. My head was thus held in place. For a mo-
ment the room seemed to go dark and then I gathered my
wits again. My left wrist, to my horror, was fastened back,
and at my left side, by straps attached to a ring. My right
wrist was then secured similarly. In moments both of my
ankles, too, had been fastened in position. I fought to retain
consciousness. Then I was thrust back further in the box. A
broad leather strap was then drawn tightly about me. I
winced. Then it was buckled shut. I could hardly move. I
looked at the men, from the box. My eyes pleaded with them.
     "She is secured," said one of the men.
     The man in charge nodded. "Close the container," he said.
     I looked at the door. There was no handle or device for
opening it on my side, and, even had there been, I could not,
restrained as I was, have begun to reach it.
     I whimpered piteously, as an utterly helpless, restrained
woman. I looked at them, piteously. They must show me
mercy
     Then the door was closed.
     I was plunged into darkness, save for the tiny bits of light
coming through the two small, round holes on my right, near
my face.
     When the door had closed two snap-fastenings had shut,
one near the top of the door and one near its bottom. I then
sat inside, helpless. I heard ten screw bolts twisted shut,
unhurriedly. Three were along the top of the ' door and three
were along the bottom of the door; two each were at the
sides of the door, two between the hinges and two between
the locks.
     Earlier I had asked the man if the box might have been a
safe. I had gathered from his response that it was not really a
safe but that it might, indeed, upon occasion, be used in the
securing of valuables.
     I struggled in the straps, helpless.
     I wondered if I might take some bitter consolation in his
laconic response, which now seemed so ironic. Perhaps 1,
now so well secured within the box, might, at least, count as
a valuable.
     I pressed my head back against the iron behind me. I
heard the movement of the two rings.
     But how valuable could I really be, I asked myself. I
doubted, frankly, that I could be of much value. If I were
really of value, of much value, I did not think I would be
fastened like this, strapped naked in a box.
     I tried to peer out the small holes in the door.
     I could see very little, a part of the upper wall in the apart-
ment, a small framed print, of flowers, which had been there
when I bad rented the apartment.
     The box was then lifted, apparently by handles.
     I suddenly felt extremely faint. I fought against the loss of
consciousness.
The box was then lowered into the cardboard carton.
          I turned my bead, moaning. I heard the clink of the two
rings. I tried to move my wrists and ankles. I could hardly
move them. The broad leather strap, buckled shut, pressed,
too, deeply into my belly, holding me in place.
          Outside of the two small holes now tay the' cardboard. I
could see a little light from the overhead lamp. '
          I turned my head and struck with the side of it against the
iron behind me.
"Do not be stupid, bitch," said the man outside the box.
I sobbed.
I fought more fiercely to retain consciousness.
          Because of the rings and straps, and the closeness with
which they held me to the wall, I could gain little leverage. I
could do little more than tap or rub my head against the iron.
          I had indeed been stupid. Even under ideal conditions,
fully conscious, and with an abundance of possible rescuers
in the vicinity, any girl confined and gagged as expertly as I
was would be able to do very little to call attention to her
captivity. It was unlikely that even her fiercest and most des-
perate signals would be audible more than a yard or so from
her tiny prison.
I began to moan and whimper. They must show me mercy
The top of the cardboard carton was then closed.
          I struggled, fiercely, for a moment, but then felt exhausted.
I heard a segment of sealing tape torn from a roll and then,
apparently, the top of the carton was sealed shut.
          I put my head back against the iron. The two rings made a
tiny sound. I became very conscious of the feel of the leather
straps binding me. I pressed back. This eased the pressure of
the strap at my belly. I felt my hair, still damp from the
shower, between my back and the iron. Beneath my body,
where I sat upon it, the iron felt cool, smooth and hard. I felt
it this way, too, beneath my heels.
          Then the carton was lifted, and was being carried. It would
appear to be a carton in the care of professional moving
men.
No one would think twice about it.
          The thought crossed my mind that it was Tuesday evening.
Tomorrow would be Wednesday, my day off at the store. I
would not be missed until Thursday.
I then lost consciousness.
It was warm in the room.
It seemed a lazy morning.
          My fingers felt at the red-silk coverlet. I lay on my stom-
ach on the soft, broad, red-silk surface. I tried to collect my
wits. I moved my body, a little. I felt the soft silk move
beneath it. I was nude. Too, I felt the warm air on my body
and legs. I was not covered. I was lying nude, uncovered, on
my stomach, on a wide, soft, silken surface.
I remembered the men, the straps and the box.
          I turned and sprang to my hands and knees on the soft
surface. I was on a vast bed, or couch. It was round and
some fifteen feet in diameter. I was, half sunk in its softness,
near the center of it. I had not realized such luxury could ex-
ist. A glance informed me, to my relief, that I was alone in
the room. The room was a large one, and extremely colorful.
The floor was of glossy, scarlet tiles. The walls, too, were
tiled, and glossy, and covered with bold, swirling designs,
largely worked out in yellow and black tiles. At one point
there was a large, scarlet pelt on the floor. Against some of
the walls there were chests, heavy chests, which opened from
the top. There were mirrors, too, here and there, and one was
behind something like a low vanity. I also saw a small, low
table. It was near the couch. There were also, mostly near the
walls, some cushions about. To one side there was a large,
sunken basin. This was, perhaps, I thought, a tub. There was
no water in it, however, and no visible faucets. I saw myself
in one of the mirrors, on all fours in the great bed. I hastily
looked away. To one side there appeared to be some sliding
doors. On my right, and several feet away, there was, too, a
heavy wooden door. It looked as though it might be very
thick. I saw no way, no bars or locks, no chains or bolts,
whereby its closure might be guaranteed on my side. It might
be locked on the outside, I supposed. But, clearly, I could not
lock it from the inside. I could not keep anyone out. I could,
on the other hand, doubtless be kept in. At one point on the
floor there was, fixed in the floor, a heavy metal ring. I also
saw, in one wall, two such rings. One was mounted in the
wall about a yard from the floor and the other, about a yard
to its left, was mounted in the wait, about six feet from the
floor.
          I quickly, frightened, crawled back off the bed. It was not
easy to do, given its softness. I felt the smoothness, the
coolness, of the scarlet tiles on my feet. I saw that there was,
anchored at one point in the couch, at what may have served
as its foot, another such sturdy ring. Beneath it lay a coil of
chain. Smaller rings, too, I noted, circling the couch, ap-
peared at regular intervals about its perimeter, about every
four or five feet, or so. Beneath these, however, there lay -no
chains. I fled to the window, which was narrow, about fifteen
inches in width. It was set with heavy bars, spaced about
three inches apart, reinforced with thick, flat, steel
crosspieces, spaced at about every vertical foot. I shook the
bars. They did not budge. I hurt my hands. I stood there for
a moment, the shadows of the bars and crosspieces falling
across my face and body. Then I fled back to the couch and,
fearfully, crawled onto it.
          There seemed something different, frighteningly so, about
this place in which I now found myself. It seemed almost as
though it might not be Earth. This did not have to do primar-
ily with the room, and its appointments and furnishings, but
rather with such things as the condition of my body and the
very quality of the air I was breathing. I supposed this was
the result of the lingering effects of the substance with which
I had been sedated or drugged. The gravity seemed different,
subtly so, from that of Earth. Too, my entire body felt alive
and charged with oxygen. The air itself seemed vivifying and
stimulating. These things, which appeared to be objective as-
pects of the environment were doubtless merely subjective il-
lusions on my part, resulting from the drug or sedative. They
had to be. The obviously suggested alternative would be just
too unthinkable, just too absurd. I hoped I had not gone mad.
          I sat on the bed, my chin on my knees. I became aware
that I was very hungry.
          One thing, at least, assured me that I had not gone mad.
That thing supplied a solid reference point in this seemingly
incredible transition between environments. It had been
locked on me in my own kitchen. It was a steel anklet. I still
wore it.
          I looked over to one of the mirrors. I looked small, sitting
on the great bed. I was nude. I wondered in whose bed I was.
I then heard a sound at the door.
          Terrified I knelt on the bed, snatching up a portion of the
coverlet on which I knelt, and held it tightly, defensively,
about me.
          The door opened, admitting a small, exquisite, dark-haired
woman. She wore a brief, whitish, summery, floral-print
tunic, almost diaphanous, with a plunging neckline. The print
was a tasteful scattering of delicate yellow flowers, perhaps
silk-screened in place. The garment was belted, and rather
snugly, with two turns of a narrow, silken, yellow cord,
knotted at her left hip. She was barefoot. I noted that she did
not wear an anklet, such as I wore. There was something on
her neck, however, something fastened closely about it, en-
cased in a silken yellow sheath or sleeve. I did not know what
it was. It could not be metal, of course. That would be terri-
fying. I noted that the door, which now closed behind her,
wag some six inches thick.
          "Oh," said the girl, softly, startled, seeing me, and knelt.
She put her head down, and then lifted it. "Forgive me,
Mistress," she said. "I did not know whether or not you were
yet awake. I did not knock, for fear of disturbing you."
"What do you want?" I asked.
          "I have come to serve Mistress," she said. "I have come to
see if Mistress desires aught."
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Susan," she said.
"Susan who?" I asked.
"Only Susan," she said.
"I do not understand," I said.
"That is what I have been named," she said.
"Named?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"I am Tiffany," I said. "Tiffany Collins."
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"Where am P" I asked.
"In the city of Corcyrus," she said.
          I had never heard of this city. I did not even know what
country it was in. I did not even know in what continent it
might be.
"In what country is this?" I asked.
"In the country of Corcyrus," she said.
"That is the city," I said.
          You are then in the dominions of Corcyrus, Mistress," she
said.
"Where is Corcyrus?" I asked.
"Mistress?" asked the girl, puzzled.
"Where is Corcyrus?" I asked.
"It is here," she said, puzzled. "We are in Corcyrus."
          "I see that I am to be kept in ignorance," I said, angrily,
clutching the coverlet about my neck.
          "Corcyrus," said the girl, "is south of the Vosk. It is. south-
west of the city of Ar. It lies to the east and somewhat north
of Argenturn."
          "Where is New York City?" I asked. "Where are the
United States?"
"They are not here, Mistress," smiled the girl.
"Where is the ocean?" I asked.
          "It is more than a thousand pasangs to the west, Mistress,"
said the girl.
"Is it the AAlantic Ocean or the Pacific Ocean?" I asked.
"No, Mistress," said the girl.
"It is the Indian Ocean?" I asked.
"No, Mistress," said the girl.
I looked at her, puzzled.
"It is Thassa, the Sea, Mistress," said the girl.
"What sea is it?" I asked.
          "That is how we think of her," said the girl, "as the sea,
Thassa."
"Oh" I said, bitterly.
          "Has Mistress noted certain feelings or sensations in her
body, perhaps of a sort with which she is unfamiliar?" asked
the girl. "Has Mistress noted any unusual qualities in the air
she is breathing?"
          "Perhaps," I said. These things I had construed as the lin-
gering effects of the substance which had been injected into
me, rendering me unconscious.
          "Would Mistress like for me to have her bath prepared?"
she asked.
"No," I said. "I am clean."
          "Yes, Mistress," she said. I realized, uneasily, that I must
have been cleaned.
"I have been perfumed, have I not?" I asked. I did no
know if the room had been perfumed, or if it were 1.
     "Yes, Mistress," said the girl.
     I pulled the coverlet up, even more closely, about my neck.
I felt its soft silk on my naked, perfumed body. The perfume
was exquisitely feminine.
     "Am I still a virgin?" I asked.
     "I suppose so," said the girl. "I do not know."
     I looked uneasily at the heavy door, behind her. I did not
know who might enter that door, to claim me.
     "In whose bed am I" I asked.
     "In your own, Mistress," said the girl.
     "Mine?" I asked.
     "Yes, Mistress," she said.
     "Whose room is this?" I demanded.
     "Yours, Mistress," said the girl.
     "There are bars at the window," I said.
     "They are for your protection, Mistress," said the girl.
"Such bars are not unusual in the rooms of women in Corcyrus.
          I looked at the girl in the light, floral-print tunic, kneeling
a few feet from the bed. It was almost diaphanous. It was not
difficult to detect the lineaments of her beauty beneath it.
seemed a garment which was, in its way, demure and yet,
the same time, extremely provocative. To see a woman
such a garment, I suspected, might drive a man half mad
.with passion. I wondered what was concealed in the silken
sheath about her neck.
          "Why have I been brought here?" I asked. "What am I do-
ing here?"
          "I do not know, Mistress," said the girl. "I am not one
such as would be informed."
"Oh," I said. I did not fully understand her response.
"Is Mistress hungry?" she inquired.
"Yes," I said. I was ravenous.
Smiling the girl rose lightly to her feet and left the room.
          I left the bed and stood then on the tiles, near the bed, the
coverlet still held about me, almost like a great cloak. The
tiles felt cool to the bottoms of my feet. The weather seemed
warm and sultry. I wondered if I might be in Africa or Asia.
I looked at the rings on the couch, at the ring in the floor,
and the two rings in the wall, one about a yard from the floor
and one about six feet from the floor.
I looked at the door. There was a handle on my side of the
door, but no way to lock or bar it, at least from my side.
I heard a noise, and stepped back.
          The door opened and the girt, carrying a tray, smiling, en-
tered.
          "Mistress is up," she said. She then set the tray down on
the small table. She arranged the articles on the tray, and
then brought a cushion from the side of the room and placed
it by the table. There was, on the tray, a plate of fruit, some
yellow, wedge-shaped bread, and a bowl of hot, rich-looking,
dark-brown, almost-black fluid.
          "Let me relieve Mistress of the coverlet," she said, ap-
proaching me.
I shrank back.
"It is too warm for it," she smiled, reaching for it.
I again stepped back.
          "I have washed Mistress many times," she said. "And
Mistress is very beautiful. Please."
          I let the coverlet slip to my hips. There was no mistaking
the admiration in the eyes of the girl. This pleased me. I let
her remove it from me. "Yes," she said, "Mistress is quite
beautiful."
"Thank you," I said.
She folded the coverlet and placed it on the great couch.
"Susan," I said. "That is your name?"
"Yes, Mistress," smiled the girl.
          "What are these rings?" I asked, indicating the heavy ring
in the floor, and the two rings in the wall.
"They are slave rings, Mistress," said the girl.
"What is their purpose?" I asked, frightened.
"Slaves may be tied or chained to them," said the girl.
          "There are slaves, then, in this place?" I asked. This
thought, somehow, alarmed me, terribly. Yet, too, at the
same time, I found it inordinately moving and exciting. The
thought of myself as a slave and what this might mean sud-
denly Hashed through my mind. For an instant I was so
thrilled, so shaken with the significance of this, that I could
scarcely stand.
"There are true men in this place," explained the girl.
          "Oh," I said. I did not understand her remark. Did she not
know that true men repudiated their natural sovereignty, for-
sook their manhood and conformed to prescribed stereotypes?
Was she not familiar with the political definitions? I won-
dered then if there might not be another sort of true men,
true men, like true lions, who, innocent of negativistic condi-
tionings, simply fulfilled themselves in the way of nature.
Such men. I supposed, of course, could not exist. They, pre-
sumably, in the way of nature, would be less likely to pretend
that women were the same as themselves than to simply relish
them, to keep them, to dominate, own and treasure them,
perhaps like horses or dogs, or, I thought, with a shudder,
women.
          "Would Mistress care to partake now of her breakfast?"
asked the girl.
I was looking, fascinated, at the heavy ring set in the tiles.
          "If Mistress wishes," said the girl, "she may tie me to it
and whip me."
I looked at her, startled. "No," I said. "No!"
          "I shall tidy the room," said the girl, "and prepare it for
the convenience of Mistress."
          She turned about and went to the side of the room. She be-
gan to take articles from the vanity, such as, combs and
brushes, and vials, and place them on its surface, before the
mirror. She moved with incredible grace.
          Glancing in the mirror she saw me behind her, watching
her. "Mistress?" she asked.
"Nothing," I said.
          She continued her work. She straightened pillows at the
side of the room. She then went to one of the sliding doors at
the side of the room and moved one back a few inches. She
reached inside and, from the interior of the door, where it
had doubtless been hanging, from a loop on its handle, re-
moved an object.
I gasped.
"Mistress?" she asked.
"What is that?" I asked.
          "A whip," she said, puzzled. Seeing my interest she
brought it towards me. I stepped back. She held it across her
body. Its handle was about eighteen inches long. It was white,
and trimmed with yellow beads. Depending from this handle,
at one end, were five, pliant yellow straps, or lashes. Each
was about two and a half feet long, and one and a half
inches, wide.
I trembled.
I could scarcely conjecture what that might feel  laid to
my body.
          "Am I to be whipped?" I asked. I was terribly conscious of
my nudity, my vulnerability.
"I do not think so, Mistress," laughed the girl.
          I regarded the whip. I wished that she had been more affir-
mative in her response.
"Whos whip is it?" I asked.
"Yours, Mistress," said the girl.
"But for what purpose is it to be used?" I asked.
          "It is for whipping me," she said. "It is my hope, however,
that I will be so pleasing to Mistress that she will not wish to
use it, or not often, on me."
"Take it away," I said. It frightened me.
          The girl went to a wall and, near the large door, by a loop
on its butt end, hung it from a hook. I had not noticed the
hook before.
          "There," said the girl, smiling. "It is prominently displayed,
where we both, many times a day, may see it."
          I nodded. I regarded the object. There was little mistaking
its meaning.
"Susan," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
          "Are there truly slaves here, in this place, in this city, or
country?"
"Yes, Mistress," she said, "and generally."
I did not understand what she meant by "generally."
          I felt the warm air on my body. I smelled the perfume, so
delicately feminine, which had been put on me.
"You said you had been 'named' Susan," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
          "The way you said that," I said, "it sounded as though you
might have been named anything."
          The girl shrugged, and smiled. "Of course, Mistress," she
said.
"You are very pretty, Susan," I said.
"Thank you, Mistress," she said.
          "These other rings," I said, indicating the rings about the
couch, "are they also slave rings?"
          "Yes," she said, approaching lightly, gracefully, "in their
way, but most of them are only anchor rings, to which, say,
chains or cords might be attached." She then crouched by the
heavy ring, that with.coiled chain beneath it, that fastened at
what might, perhaps, count as the bottom of the couch. "But
this," she said, "more appropriately, is the more typical type
of ring which one thinks of as a slave ring. Do you see its re-
semblance to the others, that in the floor, those at the wall?"
"Yes," I said.
     She lifted the ring. I could see that it was heavy. She then
lowered it back into place, so that it again, in its retaining
ring, fastened in a metal plate, bolted into the couch, hung
parallel to t * he side of the couch. "By means of such a ring,"
she said, "a male silk slave might be chained at the foot of
your couch."
          The girl rose to her feet. "Surely Mistress is hungry," she
said.
          The light from the barred window was behind her. I also
saw the shadows of the bars and crosspieces lying across the
couch.
          I turned and went to the low table where the tray had been
placed.
"There are no chairs," I said.
"There are few chairs in Corcyrus,". said the girl.
          I turned to face her, almost in anguish. Something in this
place terrified me.
          "1 have been unable to keep from noticing your garments,"
I said.
"Mistress?" asked the girl.
          "Forgive me," I said, "but they leave little doubt as to your
loveliness."
"Thank you, Mistress," said the girl.
          "You are aware of how revealing they are, are you not?" I
asked.
"I think so, Mistress," said the girl.
          "By them the lineaments of your beauty are made publicly
clear," I said.
          "That is doubtless one of their intentions, Mistress," said
the girl.
I suddenly felt faint.
"Mistress?" asked the girl, alarmed.
"I am all right," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said, relieved.
          I then, slowly, walked about her, frightened. She stood still,
very straight, her head up. She was incredibly lovely, and ex-
quisitcly figured.
"There is something on your left leg," I said, "high, on the
thigh, just under the hip." I saw this through the almost dia-
phanous, white, floral-print tunic she wore.
          "Yes, Mistress," she said. "It is common for. girls such as I
to be marked."
"Marked?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," she said. "Would Mistress care to see?"
          Seeing my curiosity, my fascination, she drew up the skirt
of the brief tunic, with both bands, and looked down to her
left thigh.
          "What is it?" I asked. It was a delicate mark, almost floral,
about an inch and a half high and a half inch, or so, wide.
"It is my brand," she said.
I gasped.
          "It was put on me in Cos," she said, "with a white-hot
iron, two years ago."
"Terrible," I whispered.
"Girls such as I must expect to be marked,"' she said. "It is
In accord with the recommendations of merchant law."
"Merchant law?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl. "May I lower my tunic?"
"Yes," I said.
She smoothed down the light tunic.
"It is a beautiful mark," I said.
"I think so, too," she said. "Thank you, Mistress."
"Did it hurt?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"It doesn't hurt now though, does it?" I asked.
"No, Mistress," she said.
          I reached out, timidly, toward her throat. I touched the ob-
ject there.
"What is this?" I asked.
          "The silk?" she asked. "That is a collar stocking, or a col-
lar sleeve. They may be made of many different materials. In
a cooler climate they are sometimes of velvet. in most cities
they are not used."
Under the silk I touched sturdy steel.
"That, Mistress, of course," she said, "is my collar."
          "Would you take it off," I asked, "please? I would like to
see it."
          She laughed merrily. "Forgive me, Mistress," she said. "I
cannot take it off."
"Why not?" I asked.
          "It is locked on me," she laughed. She turned about.
"See?" she asked.
          Feverishly I thrust apart the two sides of the silken sleeve
at the back of the girl's neck. To be sure, there, below her
hair, at the back of her neck, at the closure of the steel ap-
paratus on her neck, there was a small, heavy, sturdy lock. I
saw the keyhole. It would take a tiny key.
"You do not have the key?" I asked.
"No, Mistress," she laughed. "Of course not."
          "Then you have, personally, no way of removing this col-
lar?" I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said. "I have no way of removing it."
I shuddered.
"May I ask you 'an intimate question, Susan?" I asked.
"Of course, Mistress," she said.
"Are you a virgin?" I asked,
          The girl laughed. "No, Mistress," she said. "I was opened
by men long ago for their pleasures."
"Opened?" I whispered.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"For their pleasures?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
You have called me 'Mistress,' I said. 'Why
          "That is the customary way in which girls such as I
address all free women," she said.
"What sort of girl are you?" I asked.
          "A good girl, I hope, Mistress," she said. "I will try to
serve you well."
"Are- you a slave?" I whispered.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
          I stepped back. I had tried to fight this understanding. I
had told myself that it could not be, that it must not be. And
yet, now, how simple, how obvious and plausible, seemed
such an explanation of the girl's garb, and of the mark on
her body, and of the collar on her neck.
          "I am the slave of Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus,"
she said. She slid the collar sleeve about the collar and,
feeling with her fingers, indicated some marks on the collar. I
could see engraving there. I could not read the writing. "That
information," she said, "is recorded here."
"I see," I said, trembling.
She slid the collar sleeve back about the collar, arranging it
in place. "I was purchased almost two years ago, from the
pens of Saphronicus, in Cos," she said.
          "The purpose of the collar sleeve is to hide the collar," I
said.
          "No, Mistress," she said. "Surely the collar's presence
within the sleeve is sufficiently evident."
"Yes," I said, "I can see now that it is."
The girl smiled.
          "The yellow fits in nicely with the yellow of your belt," I
said, "and the yellow flowers on the tunic."
          "Yes, Mistress," smiled the girl. The sleeve I saw now
could function rather like an accessory, perhaps adding to, or
completing, an ensemble. It did, in this case, at least, make its
contribution to the girl's appearance. "The belt is binding fi-
ber, Mistress," said the girl, turning before me. "It may be
used to tie or leash me, or even, coiled, to whip me."
"I see," I said. It was a part of her ensemble.
          "And the flowers," said the girl, "are talenders. They are a
beautiful flower. They are often associated with love."
"They are very pretty," I said.
          "Some free women do not approve of slaves being permit-
ted to wear talenders," she said, "or being permitted to have
representations of them, like these, on their frocks. Yet slaves
do often wear them, the masters permitting it, and they are
not an uncommon motif, the masters seeing to it, on their
garments."
"Why do free women object?" I asked.
          "They feel that a slave, who must love whomever she is
commanded to love, can know nothing of love."
"Oh," I said.
          "But I have been both free and slave," she said, "and, for-
give me, Mistress, but I think that it is only a slave, in her
vulnerability and helplessness, who can know what love truly
is.
"You must love upon command?" I asked, horrified.
"We must do as we are told," she said. "We are slaves."
I shuddered at the thought of the helplessness of the slave.
          "We may hope, of course," she said, "that we come into
the power of true masters."
"Does this ever happen?" I asked.
"Often, Mistress," she said.
"Often?" I said.
"There is no dearth of true masters here," she said.
I wondered in what sort of place I might be that there
might here be no dearth of true masters. In all my life,
hitherto, I did not think I had ever met a man, or knowingly
met a man, who was a true master. The nearest I had come, I
felt, were the men I had encountered before being brought to
this place, those who had treated me as though I might be
nothing, and had incarcerated me in the straps and iron box.
Sometimes they had made me so weak I had felt like begging
them to rape or have me. I had the horrifying thought that
perhaps I existed for such men.
"How degrading and debasing to be a slave!" I cried.
          "Yes, Mistress," said the girl, putting down her head. I
thought she smiled. She had told me, I suspected, what I had
wanted to hear, what I had expected to hear.
"Slavery is illegal!" I cried.
"Not here, Mistress," she said.
I stepped back.
          "Where Mistress comes from," said the girl, "it is not ille-
gal to own animals, is it?"
"No," I said. "Of course not."
          "It is the same here," she said. "And the slave is an ani-
mal."
"You are an animal-legally?" I asked.
          "Yes," she said.
     "Horrifying!" I cried.
     "Biologically, of course," she said, "we are all animals.
Thus, in a sense, we might all be owned. It thus becomes a
question as to which among these animals own and which are
owned, which, so to speak, count as persons, or have stand-
ing, before the law, and which do not, which are, so to speak,
the citizens or persons, and which are the animals."
     "It is wrong to own human beings," I said.
     "Is it wrong to own other animals7" she asked.
     "No," I said.
     "Then why is it wrong to own human beings?" she asked.
     "I do not know," I said.
     "It would seem inconsistent," she said, "to suggest that it is
only certain sorts of animals which may be owned, and not
others."
     "Human beings are different," I said.
     The girl shrugged. "So, too, are tarsks and verr," she said.
     I did not know those sorts of animals.
     "Human beings can talk and thinkl" I said.
          "Why should that make a difference?" she asked. "If any-
thing, the possession of such properties would make a human
being an even more valuable possession than a tarsk or verr."
          "Where I come from it is wrong to own human beings but
it is all right for other animals to be owned."
          "If other animals made the laws where you come from,"
she said, "perhaps it would be wrong,there to own them and
right to own human beings."
"Perhapsl" I said, angrily.
          "Forgive me, Mistress," said the girl. "I did not mean to
displease you."
"It is wrong to own human beings" I said.
"Can Mistress prove that?" she asked.
"Nol" I said, angrily.
"How does Mistress know it?" she asked.
          "It is self-evident" I said. I knew, of course, that I was so
sure of this only because I had been taught, uncritically, to
believe it.
          "If self-evidence is involved here," she said, "it is surely
self-evident that it is not wrong to own human beings. In
most cultures, traditions and civilizations with which I am
familiar, the right to own human beings was never ques-
tioned. To them the rectitude of the institution of slavery
was self-evident."
          "Slavery is wrong because it can involve pain and hard-
ship," I said.
          "Work, too," she said, "can involve pain and hardship. Is
work, thus, wrong?"
"No," I said.
She shrugged.
"Slavery is wrong," I said, "because slaves may not like it."
          "Many people may not like many things," she said, "which
does not make those things wrong. Too, it has never been re-
garded as a necessary condition for the rectitude of slavery
that slaves approved of their condition."
"That is true," I said.
"See?" she asked.
          "How could someone approve of slavery," I asked, "or re-
gard it as right, if he himself did not wish to be a slave?"
          "In a sense," she said, "one might approve of many things,
and recognize their justifiability, without thereby wishing to
become implicated personally in them. One might approve of
medicine, say, without wishing to be a physician. One might
approve of mathematics without desiring to become a mathe.
matician, and so on."
"Of course," I said, irritably.
          "It might be done in various ways," she said. "One might,
for example, regard a society in which the institution of slav-
ery, with its various advantages and consequences, was an
ingredient as a better society than one in which it did not
exist. This, then, would be its justification. In such a way,
then, be might approve of slavery as an institution without
wishing necessarily to become a slave himself. In moral con-
sistency, of course, in approving of the institution, he would
seem to accept at least the theoretical risk of his own enslave-
ment. This risk he would presumably regard as being a por-
tion of the price he is willing to pay for the benefits of living
in this type of society, which he regards, usually by far, as
being a society superior to its alternatives. Another form of
justification occurs when one believes that slavery is right and
fit for certain human beings but not for others. This position
presupposes that not all human beings are allke. In this point
of view, the individual approves of slavery for those who
should be slaves and disapproves of it, or at least is likely
regret it somewhat, in the case of those who should not be
slave. He is perfectly consistent in this, for he believes that if
he himself should be a natural slave, then it would be right,
too, for him to be enslaved. This seems somewhat more sensi-
ble than the categorical denial, unsubstantiated, that slavery
is not right for any human being. Much would seem to de-
pend on the nature of the particular human being."
"Slavery denies freedoml" I cried.
          "Your assertion seems to presuppose the desirability of uni-
versal freedom," she said. "This may be part of what is at
issue."
"Perhaps," I said.
          "Is there more happiness in a society in which all are free,"
she asked, "than in one in which some are not free?"
          "I do not know," I said. The thought of miserable, com-
petitive, crowded, frustrated, hostile populations crossed my
mind.
"Mistress?" she asked.
"I do not know!" I said.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.
"Slavery denies freedom!" I reiterated.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"It denies freedom I said.
          "It denies some freedoms, and precious ones," said the girl.
"But, ,,too, it makes others possible, and they, too, are pre-
cious.
          "People simply cannot be owned!" I said, angrily.
          "I am owned," she said.
          I did not speak. I was frightened.
          "My Master is Ligurious, of the city of Corcyrus," she
said.
          "Slavery is illegal," I said, lamely.
          "Not here," she said.
          "People cannot be owned," I whispered, desperately, borri-
fled.
          "Here," she said, "in point of fact, aside from all questions
of legality or moral propriety, or the lack thereof, putting all
such questions aside for the moment, for they are actually ir-
relevant to the facts, people are, I assure you, owned."
          "People are in fact owned?" I asked.
~    she said. ''And fully.''
          "Then, truly," I said, "there are slaves here. There are
slaves in this place."
          "Yes," she said. "And generally."
          Again I did not understand the meaning of "generally."
She spoke almost as though we might not be on Earth, some-
where on Earth.         My heart was heating rapidly. I put my hand to my
bosom. I looked about the room, frightened. It was like no
other room I had ever been in. It did not seem that it would
be in England or America. I did not know where I was. I did
not even know on what continent I might be. I looked at the
girl. I was in the presence of a slave, a woman who was
owned. Her master was Ligurious, of this city, said to be Cor-
cyrus. I looked to the barred window, to the soft expanses of
that great, barbaric couch, to the chain at its foot, to the
rings fixed in it, and elsewhere, to the whip on its hook, to the
door which I could not lock on my side. I was again terribly
conscious of my nudity, my vulnerability.
          "Susan," I said.
          "Yes, Mistress," she said.
          "Am I a slave?" I asked.
          "No, Mistress," said the girl.
          I almost fainted with relief. The room, for a moment,
seemed to swirl about me. I was unspeakably pleased to dis
cover that I was not a slave, and then, suddenly, unaccount-
ably, I felt an inexplicable anguish. I realized, suddenly,
shaken, that there was something within me that wanted to be
owned. I looked at the girl. She was owned In that instant I
envied her her collar.
     "I am a slave!" I said, angrily. "Look at me Do you doubt
that I am a slave? I am wearing only an anklet and per-
fume"
     "Mistress is not marked. Mistress is not collared," said the
girl.
     "I am a slave" I said. I wondered, when I said this, if I
was only insisting that I was a slave, that I must be a slave,
because of such things as the barred window and the anklet,
or if I was speaking what lay in my heart.
     "Mistress is free," said the girl.
     "I cannot be free," I said.
     "If Mistress is 'not free," she said, "who is Mistress' mas-
ter?"
     "I do not know," I said, frightened. I wondered if I did be-
long to someone and simply did not yet know it.
     "I know Mistress is free," said the girl.
     "How do you know?" I asked.
     ::Ligyrious, my master, has told me," she said.
     But I am naked," I said.
     "Mistress had not yet dressed," she said. She then went to
the sliding doors at the side of the room, and moved them
aside. Thus were revealed the habiliments of what was ap-
parently an extensive and resplendent wardrobe.
     She brought forth a lovely, brief, lined, sashed, shimmering
yellow-silk robe and, holding it up, displayed it for me.
     I was much taken by it, but it seemed almost excitingly
sensuous.
     "Have you nothing simpler, nothing plainer, nothing
coarser?" I asked.
     "Something more masculine?" asked the girl.
     "Yes," I said, uncertainly. I had not really thought of it ex-
actly like that, or not consciously, but it now seemed to me
as if that might be right.
     "Does Mistress wish to dress like a man?" she asked.
     "No," I said, "I suppose not. Not really."
     "I can try to find a mans clothing for Mistress if she
wishes," said the girl.
     "No," I said. "No." It was not really that I wanted to wear
a man's clothing, literally. It was only that I thought that it
might be better to wear a more mannish type of clothing. Af-
ter all, had I not been taught that I was, for most practical
purposes, the same as a man, and not something deeply and
radically different? Too, such garb has its defensive purposes.
Is it not useful, for example, in helping a girl to keep men
from seeing her as what she is, a woman?
          "Mistress," said the girl, helping me on with the silken
robe. I belted the yellow-silk sash. The hem of the robe came
high on the thighs. I looked at myself, startled, in the mirror.
In such a garment, lovely, clinging, short, closely belted, there
was no doubt that I was a woman.
"Mistress is beautiful!" said the girl.
          "Thank you," I said. I turned, back and forth, looking at
myself in the mirror.
I adjusted the belt, making it a little tighter. The girl smiled.
"Are such garments typical of this place?" I asked.
          "Does Mistress mean," asked the girl, "that here sexual dif-
ferences are clearly marked by clothing, that here sexual dif-
ferences are important and not blurred, that men and women
dress differently here?"
"Yes," I said.
"Yes," she said. "The answer is 'Yes,' Mistress."
"Sexuality is important here, then?" I said.
          "Yes, Mistress," she said. "Here sexuality is deeply and
fundamentally important, and here women are not men, and
men are not women. The sexes are quite different, and here
each is true to itself."
"Oh," I said.
          "By means of different garbs, then," she said, "it is natural
that these important and fundamental differences be marked,
the garbs of men being appropriate to their nature, for exam-
ple, to their size and strength, and those of women to their
nature, for example, to their softness and beauty."
          "I see," I said. I was a bit frightened. In this place, I
gathered, the fact that I was a woman was not irrelevant to
what I was. That I was a woman was, I gathered, at least in
this place, something fundamentally important about me.
This fact would be made clear about me even by the clothing
which I wore. I glanced at the wardrobe. Deceit and subter-
fuge, I suspected, were not in those fabrics. They were such, I
suspected, as would mark me as a woman and even pro-
claimed me as such. How would I f are in such a place, I
wondered, where it might be difficult to conceal or deny my
sex. How terrified I was at the thought that I might have to be
true to my sex, that I might have little choice here but to be
what I was, a woman, and wholly. I looked in the mirror.
That is what I am here, I thought, a woman.
There was a sudden, loud knock at the door.
          I cried out, startled. The girl turned white, and then, facing
the door, immediately dropped to her knees. She cried out
something, frightened. The door opened.
          A large man stood framed in the doorway. He seemed ag-
ile and strong. He glanced about. His eyes seemed piercing.'
He had broad shoulders and long arms. His hair was cut
rather short, and was brown, flecked with gray. He wore a
white tunic, trimmed in red. He looked at me and I almost
fainted. It was something in his eyes. I knew I had never seen
a man like this before. There was something different about
him, from all other men I had seen. It was almost as though
a lion had taken human form.
          "It is Ligurious, my Master," said the girl, her head now
down to the floor, the palms of her hands on the tiles.
          I swallowed hard, and then tried, desperately, to meet the
man's gaze. I must show him that I was a true person.
          "Get on the bed," he said. His voice had an accent. I could
not place it.
I fled to the bed and crept obediently upon it.
          He came to the edge of the bed and looked down at me. I
half Jay, half crouched on the bed. I was very conscious of
the shortness of the robe I wore.
          He said something to Susan and she sprang up and came
to the edge of the bed. He said something else to her. I did
not understand the language, or even recognize it.
          "He says he thinks you will prove quite suitable," she said
to me, in English.
"For what?" I begged.
"I do not know, Mistress," she said.
"Get on your back," he said.
Immediately, obediently, I lay supine before him.
     "Raise your right knee, and extend your left leg," he said,
palms of your hands at your sides, facing upward."
          I immediately assumed this position. I felt very vulnerable,
particularly, interestingly, as the palms of my hands were ex-
posed. I began to breathe deeply. I was terrified. I also real-
ized, suddenly, that I was very aroused, sexually, obeying him.
The man glanced to the side. He said something to the girl.
"He notes that you have not touched your breakfast," she
said.
          I moaned. I hoped that he was not displeased. It had been
safe to displease the men I had hitherto known, or most of
them. They might be displeased with impunity. I was afraid,
however, to displease this man. I did not think he would ac-
cept being displeased. He, I was sure, would simply punish
me, and well. He might even kill me.
He looked down at me.
          I was much aroused. I whimpered. I expected him to rape
me. I was even eager to be raped, anything to please him.
          I felt his hand take my ankle. I was so charged with sensa-
tion that I almost fainted at the touch. Then I became aware
that his grip was like steel. Then I saw him take a string from
about his neck. On this string there was a tiny key. Startled, I
felt the key inserted in the lock on my anklet. Then the an-
klet was removed. I lay trembling on the bed.
          He stood there then, looking down at me, the anklet, string
and key in his hand. I then realized, partly in relief, and, in a
part of me, with disappointment, that I was not then, or at
least not then, to be raped. I was not then to feel his strong
hands on me, forcing me, as a woman, imperiously to his
win.
"May I speak?" I whispered.
'Yes," he said.
          "Who are you?" I asked. "Who is she? Where am I? What
am I doing here? What do you want of me?"
          "I am Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus," be said. "She
is unimportant. Her name is Susan. She is a slave."
          "No," I said. "I mean, who is Ligurious? Who are you? I
have never beard of you."
          "You need know little more of me than that I am the first
minister of Corcyrus," he said.
          I looked at him. He must have some connection, of course,
with the men who had come to my apartment. He had a key
for the anklet.
"Where am V' I asked.
"In Corcyrus," he said.
          "But where is Corcyrus?" I begged. "I do not even know in
what part of the world I aml"
He looked at me, puzzled.
T'he girl said something to him. He smiled.,
"Am I in Africa?" I asked. "Am I in Asia?"
          "Have you not noticed subtle differences in the gravity
here," he asked, "from what you have been accustomed to?
Have you not noticed that the air here seems somewhat dif-
ferent from that with which you have hitherto been famil-
iar?"
          "I have seemed to notice such things," I said, "but I was
drugged in my apartment, Obviously such sensations are de-
lusory, merely the effects of that drug."
"The drug," be said, "does not produce such effects."-
"What are you telling me?" I asked, frightened.
          "After a short while," he said, "you will no longer think of
these things. You will not even notice them, or, at least, not
consciously. You will have made your adjustments and ac-
commodations. You will have become acclimated, so to speak.
At most you may occasionally become aware that you are
now experiencing a condition of splendid vitality and health."
"What are you telling me?" I asked, frightened.
"This is not Earth," be said. "This is another planet."
I regarded him, disbelievingly.
"Does this seem to be Earth to you?" he asked.
"No," I whispered.
"Does this seem to be a room of Earth to you?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"You have been brought here by spaceship," he said.
I could not speak.
          "The technology involved is more sophisticated, more ad-
vanced, than that with which you are familiar," be said.
"But you speak English," I -said. "She speaks Englishl"
          "I have learned some English," he said. "She, however,
speaks it natively." He turned to the girl. He said something
to her.
          "I have been given permission to speak," she said. "I am
from Cincinnati, Ohio, Mistress," she said.
          "She was brought to this world more than two years ago,"
he said.
          "My original name was Susan," she said. "My last name
does not matter. When I became a slave, of course, my name
was gone. Animals do not have names, except as their mas-
ters might choose to name them. The name 'Susan' was again
put upon me, but now, of course, I have it only as a slave
name."
"Why was she brought here?" I asked.
          "For the usual reason for which an Earth female is
brought here," he said.
"What is that?" I asked.
"To be a slave," he said.
          He then turned to the girl and said something. She nodded.
He then turned again to me. "You may break position," he
said.
          I rolled to my stomach on the couch, clutching at it. I
shuddered.
I was not on Earth.
          "Why" have I been brought here?" I asked. "To be a slave,
to be branded, to wear a collar, to serve some man as though
he might be my master."
          "He would be your master," said the man, very evenly,
very quietly, very menacingly.
          I nodded, frightened. It was true, of course. If I were a
slave then he who was my master would indeed be my mas-
ter, and totally. I could be owned as completely, and easily,
as Susan, or any other woman.
          "But I think you will be pleased to learn what we have in
store for you," he said.
          "What?" I asked, turning to my side, pulling the robe down
on my thighs.
          "In time," he said, "I think things will become clearer to
you."
"I see," I said.
"Do you have any other questions?" he asked.
          I half rose up on the couch, my left leg under me, my
palms on the surface of the couch. "Am I still a virgin?" I
asked.
"Yes," he said.
          This pleased me. I would not have wished to have lost my
virginity while unconscious. A girl would at least like to be
aware of it when it happens. Too, I was pleased because I
thought that the possession of my virginity might make me
somehow more valuable. Perhaps I could use it somehow to
improve my position in this world. Perhaps I could somehow
use it as a prize which I might award for gain, or as a bar-
gaining device in some negotiation in which I might be in-
volved. Then I looked into the eyes of Ligurious, fix
minister of Corcyrus. I shuddered. I realized then that my
virginity, on this world, was nothing, and that it might simply
be taken from me, rudely and peremptorily,. whenever men
might please.
          Ligurious then turned and left the room. As he had left the
room, though be had scarcely noticed her, Susan had knelt,
with her head to the tiles. She now rose to her feet.
          "Earlier," I said, "your master, when beside the couch, said
something to you. What was it?"
"it is his desire," she said, "that you eat."
          I quickly left the couch and went to the small table, on
which the tray reposed. I did not wish to displease Ligurious.
He was the sort of man who was to be obeyed, immediately
and perfectly.
          I loosened my robe and sat down, cross-legged, on the
cushion before the table. I picked up a piece of the yellow
bread.
          "Oh, no, Mistress," said the girl, putting out her hand.
"That is how men sit. We are women. We kneel."
"I will sit," I told her.
          "Mistress understands, surely," said the girl, in misery,
"that I must make reports to Ligurious, my master."
"I will kneel," I said.
"That is much more lovely," said the girl, approvingly.
          I then began to eat., kneeling. This posture, to be sure,
though I do not think I would have admitted it to the girl,
did strike me as being much more feminine than that which I
had earlier adopted. Certainly, at least, it made me feel much
more feminine. I wondered if there was a certain rightness to
women kneeling. Certainly we look beautiful, kneeling. 'Me
posture, too, at least if we are permitted to keep our knees
closed, permits us a certain modest reserve with respect to
our intimacies. Too, it is a position which one may assume
easily and beautifully, and from which it is possible to rise
with both beauty and grace. To be sure, the position does
suggest not only beauty and grace but also submissiveness.
This thought troubled me. But then I thought that if women
should be submissive, then, whatever might be the truth in
these matters, such postures would be appropriate and natural
for thern. In any event, the posture did make me feel deli-
cately and exquisitely feminine. I was somewhat embarrassed,
to be sure, by these feelings. Then it suddenly seemed absurd
to me that I should be embarrassed, or should feel guilty or
ashamed, about these feelings. I think I then realized, perhaps
for the first time, fully, the power of the conditioning devices
to which I had been subjected. How strange, and pernicious,
I thought, that a woman should be made to feel guilty about
being feminine, tr-uly feminine, radically feminine! What a
tribute this was to the effectiveness of contemporary condi-
tioning techniques! In the world from which I came sexuality
was not an ingredient but an accessory. Here, on the other
hand, I suspected, men and women were not the same.
Indeed, it seemed that here I would be expected to assurne
certain postures and attitudes, and genuinely feminine ones,
perhaps merely because I was a woman. In this world it
seemed that sexuality, and perhaps a deeply natural sexuality,
was an ingredient, and not a niere accessory. It might lie at
the very core of this world. An essential and ineradicable ele-
red to be sexuality, with its basic distinctions between human beings,
dividing them clearly into different sorts, into males and females.
In a world such as this I realized that I might not only be permitted
to express my natural, fundamental nature, but that I might be encouraged
to do so. This was a world in which my femi-
ninity, whatever it was, and wherever it might lead, was not
to be denied to me. I glanced at the whip on the wall. On this
world, I suspected, I might even be given no choice but to be
true to my sex, and fully. For a moment this made me angry.
Surely I had a right to frustrate and deny my sex if I wishedl
If I was afraid to be a woman, truly and fundamentally, with
all that it might entail, surely I should not be forced to be-
come one! Yet I knew that in my heart I f elt a sudden, mar-
velous surge of hope, a sense of possible liberation, that I
might here, on this world, be freed, even if I were placed in a
steel collar, to be what I truly was, not merely a human
being, but the kind of human being I actually was, a human
female, a woman.
          "Mistress' drink is cold," said the girt. "Let me have it re-
heated or fetch you a fresh one."
"No," I said. "It is fine." I lifted the small, handleless bowl
he had used the word in two hands. I was excited that she had said
"fetch." She was the sort of girl who might carry or fetch for a
Master or a Mistress.
"Mistress," said the girl. "You are a woman. Drink
more delicately."
I drank from the bowl.
"Yes, Mistress," she said. "That is more feminine." I then
realized, even more profoundly than before, bow deeply sex-
uality must characterize and penetrate this culture. The differ-
ences between men and women were to be expressed even in
their smallest behaviors. What a significant and real thing it is
in this culture to be a man or a woman.
          "This is warmed chocolate," I said, pleased. It was very
rich and creamy.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.
"It is very good," I said.
"Thank you, Mistress," she said.
"Is it from Earth?" I asked.
          "Not directly," she said. "Many things here, of course, ulti-
mately have an Earth origin. It is not improbable that the
beans from which the first cacao trees on this world were
grown were brought from Earth."
"Do the trees grow near here?" I asked.
          "No, Mistress," she said. "We obtain the beans, from
which the chocolate is made, from Cosian merchants, who, in
turn, obtain them in the tropics."
          I put the chocolate down. I began to bite at the yellow.
bread. It was fresh.
"Perhaps Mistress should take smaller bites," she said.
          "Very well," I said. I then began to eat as she had suggest-
ed. I was a woman. I was not an adolescent boy. Again, even
in so small a thing as this, I began to feel my femininity
keenly. Too, again, I became very sensitive of the depth and
pervasiveness of the sexuality which might characterize this
world. Men and women did not even eat in the same way.
          "Exceptions can occur under certain circumstances, of
course," said the girl. "Mistress might, for example, in the
presence of a man she wishes to arouse, take a larger than
normal bite from a fresh fruit, and look at the man over the
fruit, letting juice, a tiny trickle of it, run at the side of her
mouth."
"But why would I wish to arouse a man?" I asked.
          The girl looked at me, puzzled. "Perhaps the needs of
Mistress might be much upon her," she said. "Perhaps she
might wish to be taken and overwhelmed in his arms, and
forced to surrender to him."
"I do not understand," I said, as though horrified.
"That is because Mistress is free," she said.
I had understood only too well, of course. But I was terri-
fied to even think such thoughts.
"Slaves, I suppose, occasionally have recourse to suchdevices,"
I said. I was eager to learn.
     "A device such as that with the fresh fruit," she said, "is
more appropriate to a free woman. We do have at our dis-
posal, as slaves, however, a number and variety of begging
signals, such things as groveling and moaning, and bringing
bonds to him in our teeth, wherewith we may endeavor to
call our needs to his attention."
"Begging signals?" I said.
"We are at the complete mercy of our masters," she said.
"Are the masters then kind to you?" I asked.
"Sometimes they consent to content us," she said.
"How horrifying to be a slave," I said.
          "Yes, Mistress," she said, putting her head down, smiling. I
saw that, again, she was answering me in the fashion in
which, doubtless, I wished to be answered, doubtless with def-
erence to my dignity, status or freedom. Sorely then I envied
her her collar. My feelings now began to alarm me. I decided
that it would be safest to change the subject.
"Where are the spaceships?" I asked.
"Spaceships?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I do not know," she said. "I have never even seen one."
"Oh," I said.
"Has Mistress?" she asked.
          "No," I said. I gathered that Susan, like myself, had been
brought to this world unconscious. We knew nothing, or al-
most nothing, of how we had come here.
          "The people of this world have very little evidence," she
said, "that such things even exist. The only evidence they
have, for the most part, is that of certain objects brought
from Earth."
"Objects?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "Usually girls, in chains."
"You refer to them as 'objects'?" I asked, horrified.
"Yes, Mistress," she said. "They are slaves."
"I see," I said.
          "This world is, as Mistress will discover," said the girl, "on
the whole a very primitive and barbaric place. Do not expect
to see complex machines and spaceships."
"Oh," I said.
understand something of the discipline under which slaves
might be held. I wondered what it would be like to be under
such discipline. I shuddered.
"Does Mistress enjoy her breakfast?" asked the girl.
"Yes," I said.
"Good," she said.
"Susan," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"This seems to be a very sexual world," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"Are women safe here?" I asked.
"No, Mistress," she said. "Not really."
          "You said earlier," I said, "that I was very beautiful." She
had seen me naked.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.
          "Do you think that men here, on this world, might find me
of interest?"
          "Do you mean really of interest," she asked- "as a female
slave?"
"Yes," I said.
"Will Mistress open her robe?" she asked.
I did so.
          "Will Mistress please stand and remove her robe, and let it
dangle from one hand, and turn, slowly, before me?"
I did so. I waited, inspected.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.
          I nearly fainted in fear, terrified, but not a little thrilled by
this insight.
          "Mistress would look well being sold from a block," she
said.
          Hastily, frightened, I pulled the robe on again, and belted
it tightly.
"But I think Mistress has little to fear," she said.
          I regarded her. In the girl's view, in some respects at least,
as I had just learned, I was not unsuitable for slavery.
"Why?" I asked.
          "You are well guarded," she said. "Your quarters, even,
are in the palace of Corcyrus."
"This is the palace? There are guards about?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"I am frightened by your master," I said.
"l, too, am frightened by him," she said.
"No doubt our fears are quite silly," I said.
"No, Mistress," she said.
"No?" I asked.
          "No, Mistress," she said. "Our fears are fully justified.
They are quite appropriate."
          "Do you think he wants me?" I asked. I was terrified of
Ligurious.
"I do not think so," she said.
"Why?" I asked, puzzled.
          "If he wanted you," she said, "by now you would have
been branded. By now you would be in his collar. By now
you would have been chained naked at the foot of his couch.
By now you would have felt his whip. By now you would
have learned to beg to serve him."
"Oh," I said.
          "It is not that he does not recognize your beauty," she said.
"That any man could see at a glance."
          "Oh," I said, somewhat mollified. I would have been
outraged, or something in me would have been outraged, if I
had not been thought worth a chain. I was sure I could prove
to a man that I was worthy of a chain.
          "His interest in you, merely, does not appear to be in that
way," she said. "Too, of course, he has many beautiful
women, and is a busy man."
"Many beautiful women?" I asked.
"Slaves," she said.
"More than you?" I asked.
          "I am only one of his girls," she laughed, "and I am surely
one of the least beautiful."
"How many slaves does he have?" I asked.
          "He is an ambitious and abstemious man," she said. "He
worked long hours in the service of the state. He has little
time for the meaningless charms of slaves."
"How many slaves does lie have?" I asked.
"Fifty," she said.
I gasped.
          "Perhaps Mistress would like to finish her breakfast," said
the girl.
          I knelt down before the small table, as I had been taught. I
was trembling.
          Here, as I had just learned, one man might own as many
as fifty women.
"Mistress is not eating," said the girl.
"I am not hungry," I said.
"Am I to report to my master, Ligurious," asked the girl,
"that Mistress did not finish her breakfast?"
"No," I said. "No!"
     "Every bit of it, please, Mistress," said the girl.
     1 nodded. I ate. I felt like a slave.
     Then I had finished.
     "Excellent, Mistress," said the girl. "I shall now dress
Mistress. I will teach her the proper garments, and their ad-
justments, and the veils, and their fastenings. Then it will be
time for her lessons."
     "Lessons?" I asked, frightened.
     "Yes, Mistress," she said.
     "What, sort of lessons?" I asked, apprehensively.
     "Lessons in language," she said. "Lessons in our habits and
customs. Lessons in the details of the governance of Cor-
cyrus."
     "I do not understand," I said.
     "Who are you?" she asked.
     "Tiffany Collins" I said.
"No, Mistress," she said.
I looked at her, puzzled.
          "Put that identity behind you," she said. "Regard it as
being gone, as much as if you were a slave. Prepare to begin
anew.
"But, how?" I asked. "What am I to do? Who am I to be?"
          "That much I know," smiled the girl. "I know your new
identity. My master has told me."
"What is it?" I asked.
          "From this moment on," said the girl, "accustom yourself
to thinking of yourself as Sheila, Tatrix, of Corcyrus."
"Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus?" I said.
"Yes," said the girl.
"What is a Tatrix?" I asked.
"A female ruler," she said.
I looked at her, disbelievingly.
          "It is a great honor for me," said the girl, "to serve the Ta-
tflx of Corcyrus."
          I trembled, kneeling behind the small table. The brief robe
of yellow silk did not seem much to wear. I was afraid of the
world on which I found myself.
"Who are you?" asked the girl.
"Sheila?" I said. "Tatrix of Corcyrus?"
"Yes," she said. "Please say it, Mistress. Who are you?"
"I am Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus," I whispered.
"That is correct, Mistress," said the girl.
          "I do not understand," I said. "I do not understand any-
thing! I do not even know the name of the world on which I
find myself."
"It is called Gor," she said.
I awakened, sometime late at night. I had been dreaming
in Gorean, the language spoken in Corcyrus, and, I had
learned, in much of this world.
Jt
          Several weeks had passed since I had been brought here. In
this time I had been immersed, for hours, for Ahn, a day in
studies and trainings pertinent to my new environment. I was
still muchly imperfect in many things, but there was little
doubt in my mind, nor I think in that of my numerous teach-
ers, that I had made considerable progress.
          I lay nude, late at night, on the great couch. The night was
warm.
Supposedly I was Sheila, the Tatrix of this city, Corcyrus.
          I could still feel the effects of the wine I had had for sup-
per. I do not think that it was an ordinary wine. I think that
it was an unusual wine in some respects, or, perhaps, that it
had been drugged.
          I had had a strange dream, mixed in with other dreams. It
was difficult to sort these things out.

          In the past few days, gradually, I had been entered into the
public life of Corcyrus, primarily in small things such as
granting audiences, usually with foreigners, and making brief
public appearances. Always, in these things, Ligurious, hap-
pily, unobtrusively, was at my side. Often, had it not been for
his suggestions, I would not have known what to do or say. I
Had even, the day before yesterday, held court, though, to be
sure, the cases were minor.
"Let the churl be stripped," I had said, imperiously, "and a
sign be put about his neck, proclaiming him a fraud. Then let
him be marched naked, before the spears of guards, through
the great gate of Corcyrus, not to be permitted to return be-
fore the second passage hand!"
       This was the one case which I remembered the most
clearly.
       The culprit was a small, vile man with a twisted body. He
was an itinerant peddler, Speusippus of Turia. I had found
him inutterably detestable. A Corcyran merchant had brought
charges against him. He had received a bowl from Speusippus
wWch was purportedly silver, a bowl seemingly stamped with
the appropriate seat of Ar. The bowl upon inspection, the
merchant becoming suspicious as to the weights involved, had
turned out to be merely plated. Further, since the smithies of
Ar, those authorized to use the various stamps of Ar, will not
plate objects without using relevant variations on the seal of
Ar to,indicate this, the object was not only- being misrepre-
sented but was, in effect, a forged artifact. This had led to a
seizure and search of the stores and records of Speusippus.
Various other discrepancies were found. He had two sets of
weights, one true and one false. Too, documents were found
recording the purchase of quantities of slave hair, at suitable
prices, some even within the city of Corcyrus itself. This hair,
as was attested to by witnesses, had been represented to the
public as that of free women, with appropriate prices being
expected. Hair, incidentally, is a common trade item in
Gorean markets. It is used for various purposes, for example,
for insect whisks, for dusters, for cleaning and polishing pads,
for cushionings, decorations and ropes, particularly catapult
ropes, for which it is highly prized. It is not unusual, inciden-
tally, for slave girls, particularly for those who may not have
proved superbly pleasing, as yet, to discover that their hair,
even while it is still on them, is expected, like therhselves, to
serve various lowly, domestic purposes. For example, when a
girl, serving at a banquet, hears the command, "Hair," she
knows she is to go to the guest and kneel, and lower her
head, that her hair may be used as a napkin or wiping cloth,
by means of which the free person, either male or female,
may remove stains, crumbs or grease from his hands. Simi-
larly a girl's hair, if sufficiently long, may be used for the
washing and cleaning of floors. In this she is usually on her
hands and knees, and naked and chained. The hair is used in
conjunction with the soap and water, in the appropriate buck-
ets, being dipped in, and wrung out, and rinsed, and so on.
Hair incidentally, is not used for the application of such
things as waxes or varnishes, because of the difficulty of re-
moving such substances from the hair. Such a mistake could
necessitate a shearing and a lowering of the market value of
a girl for months. For similar reasons, a girl's hair, even
within a cloth, if it is still on her, is seldom used for such
purposes as buffing and polishing. Hair is common, of course,
as a stuffing for pads used for such purposes, for example, for
tile purposes of cleaning, buffing and polishing.
       I was pleased to see the odious SpCUSippUS turned about by
guards and dragged from my presence. How pleased I was,
too, to see the awesome strength of men serving my purposes.
       I lay on my back, on the great couch, in the hot Corcyran
night.
       Some things I did not understand. Even Susan, who knew
much more of Gor than 1, did not understand them.
       In my audiences, and public appearances, for example, and
even in the court, I appeared without the veils common to
tile Gorean free woman. I knew the veils, and Susan had in-
structed me in their meanings, arrangemdnts and fastenings,
but, publicly, at least, I seldom wore them. This omission
seemed puzzling to me, from what I had learned of Gor, par-
ticularly in the case of a free woman of so lofty a station as a
Tatrix, but I saw no real reason for objecting, particularly in
the warm weather of Corcyrus. Indeed, Susan's being so scan-
dalized, and her reservations about sending me forth unveiled
from my quarters, she once of Cincinnati, Ohio, seemed to
me exquisitely amusing. I did try to explain the matter to her,
as Ligurious had explained it to me, when I had asked him
about it. The important difference between myself and other
free women, of high station, was precisely that, that I was a
Tatrix and they were not. A Tatrix, Ligurious had informed
me, has no secrets from her people. It is good for the people
of a Tatrix to be able to look lovingly and reverently upon
her. "Yes, Mistress," had said Susan, her head down. I had
wondered if Ligurious was being candid with me. At any
rate, there was little doubt that the features of their Tatrix
had now become well known in Corcyrus, at least to many of
her citizens. Indeed, only this morning 1, unveiled, in a large,
open, silken palanquin, borne by slaves, Ligurious at my side,
had been carried through the streets of Corcyrus, behind
trumpets and drums, flanked by guards, through cheering
crowds. "Your people love you," had said Ligurious. I had
lifted my hand to the crowds, and bowed and smiled. I had
done these things with graciousness and dignity, as I had been
instructed to do by Ligurious. It had been a thrilling experi-
ence for me, seeing the people, the shops, the streets, the
buildings. It was the first time I had been outside the grounds
of the palace. The streets were clean and beautiful. The smelt
of flowers was in the air. Petals had been strewn by veiled
maidens before the path of the palanquin.
       "It is good for you to appear before the people," bad said
Ligurious, "given the trouble with Argentum."
"What is the trouble with Argcnturn?" I had asked.
       "Skirmishes have taken place near there," be said. "Look,"
he said, pointing, "there is the library of Antisthenes."
       "It is beautiful," I said, observing the shaded porticoes, the
slim, lofty pillars, the graceful pediment with its friezes.
"What is the problem with Argentum?" I asked.
"This is the avenue of Iphicrates," I was informed.
       The people at the sides of the street did not seem surprised
that my features were not concealed by a veil. Perhaps it was
traditional, I gathered, as I had been informed by Ligurious,
that this was the fashion in which the Tatrix appeared before
her people. At any rate, whatever might have been the rea-
son, the people, reassuringly, from my point of view, seemed
neither scandalized nor surprised by my lack of a veil. If any-
thing, they might have been saluting me, as though for my
courage.
       At one point the retinue passed five kneeling girls. They
were barefoot and wore brief, sleeveless, one-piece tunics
Their heads were down to the very pavement itself. They
wore close-fitting -metal collars and were chained together,
literally, by the neck. I gasped. "Do not n-find such women,"
said Ligurious. "They are nothing. They are only slaves." I
was shaken by this sight. My heart was pounding rapidly. I
could scarcely breathe. It was not outrage which I felt, inter-
estingly, nor pity. It was something else. It was a state of un-
usual sexual excitement, and arousal.
       "Smile," suggested Ligurious, himself lifting his hand
graciously to the crowd. "Wave."
I controlled myself, and then, again, favored the crowd
with my attentions, with my smiles and countenance.
  At one time, later, we passed by a set of low, broad,
recessed-from-the-street, cement steps or shelves. Behind these
levels, these shelves or steps, there was a highicement wall.
There were several women, perhaps ten or eleven, on these
steps or shelves. Most were white but there were at least two
blacks and, I think, one oriental. Each was naked, absolutely.
Too, chains ran from heavy rings to their bodies, to perhaps
a lovely neck, or a fair wrist or ankle. They were fastened in
place, literally, on the cement shelves. As the retinue passed,
they oriented themselves to the street and knelt, their h ads
down to the warm cement. There were more rings than there
were women on the shelves, and there were rings, too, set at
various heights, in the wall behind the shelves. These rings,
too, however, like many of the shelf rings, were not being
used. There was ail apparatus at one side, like a canopy
wrapped about poles, but it, too, was not now in use.
       I looked at the women, naked, kneeling, their heads down,
chained on the shelves.
"More slaves," explained Ligurious.
       Again I fought for breath. I clutched the side of the palan-
quin to steady myself.
"What is wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said. "Nothing."
       "It was only an open-air market," he said, "a small one.
There are several such in Corcyrus."
"A market!" I said.
"Yes," He said.
       "But what is bought and sold there?" I asked. I recalled the
naked, chained' beauties.
"Women," he said.
"Women!" I said.
"Yes," he said.
       "I see," I said. How matter-of-factly he had put thatl Such
markets, clearly, like other sorts of markets, were a common
feature of Gorean life.
"Bow, and wave," he suggested.
       Again I lifted my hand to the crowds. Again I smiled forth
from the palanquin.
       But I began to tremble. I had seen owned, displayed hu-
man females, women who were merchandise, women who
were literally up for sale.
       "Put them from your mind," said Ligurious. "They are
nothing, only slaves."
       How terrifying, how horrifying, I thought, to be such a
woman, one at the mercy of anyone who has the means to
buy her. What a horrifying and categorical thing it would be,
I thought, to be subject to sale.
"Hail Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus!" I heard.
"The people love you," said Ligurious.
       On this world, I said to myself, a woman could be literally
owned by a man. She could be as much his, literally, as a
shoe or a dog. I fought the feelings within me. I strove'
against them. I tried to force the memory of the wornen
chained on the shelves from my mind. I could not do so. I
moaned. Then I could no longer deny to myself that I was
aroused sexually, helplessly and terribly. The crowds, from
time to time, surged closer to the palanquin. Tbe guards,
flanking the palanquin on both sides, pressed them back with
the sides of spears. Among these guards, though he did not
have a spear, was Drusus Rencius. He had been assigned to
me, some weeks ago, as my personal guard. Behind the ret-
inue, following it, came soldiers. Some of these had canvas
sacks slung about their shoulders. From these sacks, from
time to time, they would fling coins, and bits of coins, to the
street. This was, I thought, a nice gesture. The people would
scramble for these coins. It seemed they found them very pre-
cious. I continued to smile and wave to the crowd. From
time to time, too, I stole a glance at D~usus Rencius. He,
however, walking beside the palanquin, had eyes only for the
crowd. Outside, perhaps, I seemed charming and benign. In-
side, however, almost uncontrollable emotions raged within
me. On what sort of world was this that I found myself I I
had not known a woman could be so aroused! Again I looked
at Drusus Rencius, and the others, guardsmen of Corcyrus. I
wondered what it would be like to be owned by a man such
as one of those. The thought almost made me faint with pas-
sion. I had no doubt they well knew bow to teach a woman
her slavery. I would be kept by them by the lash, if necessary.
"Is anything amiss, my Tatrix?" inquired Ligurious.
"No," I said. "No!"
       Then I continued, again, to smile and bow, to nod and
wave to the crowd.
       I hoped that my condition was not evident to the stern,
practical Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus.
       His maleness, and Goreanness, too, of course, were felt
keenly by me.
At his least word I would have stripped myself in the
silken palanquin and presented myself publicly to him for his
  pleasures.
       Soon the procession began to wend its way back to the
  palace. One incident, perhaps worthy of note, occurred. A
  man rushed forth, angrily, from the crowd, to the very side
  of the palanquin. Drusus Rencius caught him there and flung
  him back. I screamed, startled. In a moment, the retinue
  stopped, the man was held by the arms, on his knees, at the
  side of the palanqtiin.
       Swords were held at the man's neck. "He is unarmed," said
  Drtisus Rencius.
       "Down with Sheila, not Tatrix but Tyranness of Corcyrus!"
  cried the man, looking an~rily upward.
       "Silence!" said Ligurious.
       "You shall pay for your crimes and cruelties!" cried the
  man. "Not forever will the citizens of Corcyrus brook the
  outrages of the palace!"
       "Treason!" cried Ligurious.
       The man was struck at the side of the head by the butt of
  a spear. I cried out, in misery.
       "This man is a babbling lunatic," said Ligurious to me.
  "Pay him no attention, my Tatrix."
       The fellow, his head bloody, sagged, half unconscious, in
  the grip of the soldiers.
"Bind him," said Ligurious. The man's arms were wrestled
  behind his back and tied there.
       He looked up, his bead bloody, from his knees.
       "Who are you?" I asked.
       "One who protests the crimes and injustice of Sheila,
  Tyranness of Corcyrus!" he said, boldly.
       "He is Menicius, of the Metal Workers," said one of the
  soldiers.
"Are you Menicius?" I asked.
       "Yes," said the man.
       "Are you of Corcyrus?" I asked.
            Yes," said he, "and once was proud to be!"
       "What do you want?" I asked.
       "Obviously it was his intention to do harm to his Tatrix,"
  said Ligurious. "That is clear from his attack on the palan-
  quin."
       "He was unarmed," said Drusus Rencius.
       "On a woman's throat," said Ligurious, coldly, "a man's
  bands need rest but a moment for dire work to be done."
I put my finger tips lightly, inadvertently, to my throat. I
did not doubt but what Ligurious was right. Assassination so
simply might be accomplished.
"Why would you wish me harm?" I asked the man.
       "I wish you no harm, Lady," said he, surlily, "save that you
might get what you deserve, a collar in the lowest slave hole
on Gor!"
"It is treason," said Ligurious. "His guilt is clear."
"Why, then, did you approach the palanquin?" I asked.
       "That the truth might be spoken in Corcyrus," he said,
"that the misery and anger of the people might be declaredt"
       "Prepare his neck," said Ligurious. A man seized the fel-
low's head and pulled his hair forward and down, exposing
the back of the fellow's neck. Another soldier unsheathed his
sword.
"No!" I cried. "Free him! Let him go!"
"Tatrix" protested Ligurious.
"Let him go," I said.
       The man's hands were freed. He stood up, startled. The
crowd about, too, seemed startled, confused. The face of Li-
gurious was expressionless. He was a man, I sensed, not only
of power, but of incredible control.
"Have him given a coin!" I said.
       One of the soldiers, one of those who had had a bag of
coins, and coin bits, about his shoulder, came forward. He put
a copper piece in the man's hand.
       The man looked down at it, puzzled. Then, angrily, he spit
upon it and flung it to the stones of the street. He turned
about, and strode away.
I saw another man snatch up the coin.
       There was a long moment's silence. Then this silence was
broken by the voice of Ligurious. "Behold the glory and
mercy of the Tatrix!" he said. "What better evidence could
we have of the falsity of the lunatic's accusations?"
       "Hail Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrust" cried the man who had
snatched up the coin.
"Hail Sheila!" I heard. "Hail Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrust"
       In a moment the retinue resumed its journey back to the
palace.
       "Is there anything to what the fellow said?" I asked Liguri-
ous. "Is there unrest in Corcyrus? Is there some discontent.
ment among our citizens?"
"From what city does Drusus Rencius derive?" I inquired.
"Ar, Lady," said Ligurious.
"Our allegiances, I thought," I said, "are with Cos."
       "Drusus Rencius is a renegade, Lady," said Ligurious. "Do
not fear. He now serves onlv himself and silver."
       I inclined my head to -Drusus Rencius. He was a dark-
baired, tall, supple, lean, long-muscled, large-handed man. He
bad gray eyes. He had strong. regular features. In him I
sensed a powerful intelligence.
"Lady," said lie, bowing before me.
       He seemed quiet, and deferential. But there was within
him, I did not doubt, that which was Gorean. He wo
  uld
know. what to do with a woman.
"He is to be your personal guard," said Ligurious.
"A bodyguard?" I inquired.
"Yes, Lady," said Ligurious.
  I looked at the tall, spare man. He carried - a helmet in the
crook of his left arm. It was polished but, clearly, it had seen
war. The hilt of the sword in his scabbard, at his left hip, too,
was worn. It was marked, too, with the stains of oil and
sweat. His livery, too, though clean, was plain. It bore the in-
signia of Corcyrus and of his standing in the guards, that of
the third rank, the first rank to which authority is delegated.
In the infantry of Corcyrus the fif th rank is commonly occu-
pied for at least a year. Promotion to the fourth rank is usu-
ally automatic, following the demonstrated attainment of
certain levels of martial skills. The second rank and the first
rank usually involve larger command responsibilities. Beyond
these rankings come the distinctions and levels among leaders
who are perhaps more appropriately to be thought of as of-
ficers, or full officers, those, for example, among lieutenants,
captains, high captains and generals. That Drusus Rencius
was first sword among the guards, then, in this case, as his in-
signia made clear, was not a reference to his rank but a
recognition of his skill with the blade. That these various
ranks might be occupied, incidentally, also does not entail
that specific conimand responsibilities are being exercised. A
given rank, with its pay grade, for example, might be occu-
pied without its owner being assigned a given command. The
command of Drusus Rencius, for example, if he had had one,
would presumably be relinquished when be took over his du.
ties as a personal guard. His skills with the sword, I suppose,
had been what,had called him to the attention of Ligurious.
These, perhaps, had seemed to qualify him for his new as-
signment. To be a proper guard for a Tatrix, however, surely
involved more than being quick with a sword. There were
matters of appearances to be considered. I felt a bit irritated
with the fellow. I would put him in his place.
"The guard for a Tatrix," I said to Ligurious, "must be
more resplendent."
"See to it," said he to Drusus Rencius.
"As you wish," responded Drusus Rencius.
Ligurious had then left.
       Drusus Rencius looked down at me. He seemed very large
and strong. I felt very small and weak.
"What is wrong?" I asked, angrily.
"It is nothing," he said.
"Whatl" I demanded.
       "It is only that I had expected, from what I have heard,
that Lady Sheila would be somewhat different than I find
her."
"Oh," I said.
He continued to look at me.
"In what way?" I asked.
"I had expected Lady Sheila to seem more of a Tatrix," he
said, "whereas you seem to me to be something quite differ-
ent.
"What?" I asked.
       "Forgive me, Lady," be smiled. "If I answered you truth-
fully I would fear that I might be impaled."
"Speak," I said.
He smiled.
       "You may speak with impunity," I said. "What is it that I
seem to be to you?"
"A female slave," be said.
"Oh!" I cried, in fury.
"Does Lady Sheila often go unveiled?" be asked.
       "Yes," I said. "A Tatrix has no secrets from her people. It
is good for her people to be able to look upon their Tatrix?"
       "As Lady Sheila wishes," he said, bowing. "May I now
withdraw?"
"Yes!" I said. He had seen me without my veil. I felt al-
most naked before him, almost as though I might truly be a
slave.
"I shall be at your call," he said. He then withdrew.
I twisted on the couch and turned again to my back. I
looked up at the ceiling.
       The effects of the wine I had had for supper were still with
me. I think it may have been drugged.
       It was not easy to sort things out. I had had a strange
dream, mixed in with other dreams.
       "I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus," I had said to Ligurious, in
the palanquin. "Of course," he had said.
       How can I be the Tatrix of Corcynis, I asked myqclf. Does
this make any sense? Is it not all madness? I could under-
stand how women could be brought to this world to be put in
collars and made slaves, like -Susan, for example, and
doubtless others. That was comprehensible. But why would
one be brought here to rule a city? Surely such positions of
privilege and power these Goreans would reserve for them-
selves. The more typical position for an Earth girl, I suspect-
be to find herself at the feet of a master. I wondered if I were
truly the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Surely I had seldom exercised
significant authority. Too, at times, my schedule seemed a bit
erratic or strange. At certain Alin I was expected to be in the
public rooms of the palace and, at others, even at the ringing
of palace time bars, for no reason I clearly understood, I was
expected to be in my quarters.
"Certain traditions customarily govern the calendar of the
Tatrix," Ligurious had informed me. At certain times I bad
been conducted to my quarters I bad thought that sessions of
important councils had been scheduled, councils at whose
sessions it would be natural to expect the presence of the Ta-
trix. The matters to be discussed in certain of these meetings,
however, I had learned from Ligurious, were actually too
trivial to warrant the attention of the Tatrix. Thus it was not
necessary that I attend. In certain other cases, I was in-
formed, the meetings had been postponed or canceled. Proto-
cols and customs are apparently extremely significant to
Goreans. What seemed to me inexplicable oddities or ap-
parent caprices in my schedule were usually explained by
reference to such things. It is fitting that the proprieties of
torcyrus be respected by her Tatrix, even when they might
appear arbitrary, had said Ligurious.
I looked up at the ceiling, in the hot Corcyran night.
Was I the Tatrix of Corcyrus?
Susan, I was sure, believed me to be the Tatrix. of Cor.
cyrus. So, too, I was confident, did my bodyguard, Drusus
Rencius, once of Ar.
       Too, I had not been challenged in the matter in my audi-
ences, my public appearances, or even in court. By all, it
seemed, I was accepted as the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Ligurious,
first minister of the city, even, had assured me of the reality
of this dignity. And had I wished further confirmation of my
condition and status surely I had received it earlier today,
from the very citizens of Corcyrus itself. "Hail Sheila, Tatrix
of Corcyrusl" they had cried.
       "I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus," I had told Ligurious. "Of
course." he had said.
       Inexplicable and strange though it might seem, I decided
that I was, truly, the Tatrix of Corcyrus.
       I closed my eyes and then opened them. I shook my head,
briefly. The effects of the wine I had had for supper were stin
with me. I think that it might have been drugged. What pur-
pose could have been served by such an action, however, I
had no idea.
I bad had a strange dream, mixed in with other dreams.
I whimpered on the great couch, lying in the heat of the
Corcyran night.
  I was Tatrix.
  How extraordinary and marvelous this was! Too, I was not
insensitive to the emoluments and perquisites of this office, to
the esteem and prestige that might attend it, to the glory that
might be expected to be its consequence, to the wealth and
power which, doubtless, sometime, would prove to be its inev-
itable attachments.
  In office, clearly, I acknowledged to myself, I was a Tatrix.
I wondered, however, if there was a Tatrix within me, or
something else.
  I forced from my mind, angrily, the memory of the girls in
brief tunics, chained by the neck, kneeling down, heads
down, in the street. I forced from my mind, angrily, the
memory of the women in the market, naked, chained in
place, awaiting the interest of buyers.
  I twisted on the great couch, in misery.
  Nowhere more than on this world had I felt my femininity,
and nowhere else, naturally enough, I suppose, had I felt it
more keenly frustrated. I wondered what it was, truly, to be a
woman.
  I had had a strange dream. I had awakened into it, or had
seemed to awaken into it, from another. In the preceding
learn I had been on my hands and knees on the tiles of a
strange room. I was absolutely naked. There was a chain on
my neck and it ran to a ring in the floor. Drusus Rencius,
standing, was towering over me. He carried a whip. He was
smiling. I looked up at him, in terror. He shook out the long,
broad, pliant blades of the Whip. It was a five-stranded
Gorean slave whip. I looked at the blades, in terror. "What
are you going to do?" I asked. "Teach you to be a woman,"
he said. I had then seemed to awaken into another dream. In
this one was Ligurious. I felt portions of the coverlet being
wrapped about me, between my shoulders and thighs. My
arms were pinned to my sides, within the coverlet. I whim-
pered. It seemed that I was only partially conscious. Then I
became aware of someone else in the room, bearing a small,
flickering lamp. Ligurious held the coverlet with his right
hand, holding it together, holding me in place, helplessly
within it. With his left hand, it fastened in my hair, he pulled
my head back painfully. This exposed my features to the
lamp. I sobbed, responding to this domination.
"Do you see?" he asked. "Is it not remarkable?"
       "Yes," said a woman's voice. I gasped. It was as though I
looked upon myself. She, as I had, earlier in the day, wore the
robes of the Tatrix. She, too, as I had, wore no veil. In the
madness of the dream, in its oddity, it was surely 1, or one
much like myself, who looked upon me. How strange are
dreamsl
"I think she will do very nicely," said Ligurious.
"fbat, too, would be my conjecture," said the woman.
       Ligurious moved his right hand, grasping the rim of the
coverlet, tight about my breasts.
       "Do you wish to see her, fully?" he asked. I whimpered. I
realized he could strip the coverlet away, baring me in the
light of the lamp.
       "You are not so clever as you think, Ligurious," she said.
"Do you think I do not see that you, in stripping her, would
be, in effect, and to your lust and amusement, stripping me,
and before my very eyes?"
"Forgive me," smiled Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus.
       "Pull the lower portion of the coverlet down further," she
said. "You have revealed too much of her thighs."
"Of course," he smiled, and adjusted the coverlet, drawing
it down, over my knees.
"Men ate beasts," she said.
"You well know my feelings for you," he said.
       "They will go unrequited," she said. "Content yourself with
your slaves."
       I feared the woman bending over me. I could sense now
that even if she seemed superficially much like me, at least in
appearances, she was in actuality quite different. She seemed
highly intelligent, doubtless more so than 1, and severe and
decisive. She seemed harsh, and hard and cold. She seemed
merciless and cruel; she seemed arrogant, impatient, demand-
ing, haughty and imperious. Such a woman I thought, as I
am not, is perhaps a true Tatrix. Surely it seemed more be-
lievable that such a woman might hold power in a city such
as Corcyrus than 1.
       The lamp again approached more closely. Again my head
was pulled back, helplessly, firmly, forcibly.
"She is not as beautiful as I," said the woman.
"No," said Ligurious. "Of course not."
       Then my hair was released and the two figures took their
way from the room.
       I had then twisted on the couch, freed myself of the con-
finements of the coverlet, and, sensible of the effects of the
wine, or perhaps a containment of the wine, had fallen into a
dreamless sleep.
       I heard movements outside the door. The guard was being
changed.
       I could not lock the door from the inside. Yet I lay nude,
on my back, on the great couch. I wondered if this was
brazen. I rolled to my side and pulled my legs up. I bit at the
silken coverlet. I wondered if there was a Tatrix within me. I
did not think so. There was something else in me, I feared,
something that I had only become clearly aware of on this
barbaric world, this world in which I must be true to my
femininity, and in which there were true men.
       I then understood, I thought, the strange dream I had had.
It was not contrasting now, I thought, perhaps two selves, or,
more likely, two women, muchly resembling one another, but
rather it had been calling to my attention, in its figurative
imagery, in the symbolic transformations common to dreams,
a discrepancy between what I in actuality was and what it
was expected, doubtless, that a Tatrix should be. The con-
trast, I realized, had been clear, I helpless, sobbing under the
domination of Ligurious, little better than a slave, and she
above me, far superior me, haughty, decisive, imperious, cold and
powerful. I sobbed. I knew then from the dream, or from what had
seemed a dream, that there was no Tatrix in me. I was not a Tatrix,
not in my heart. I was, at best, something different. Angrily I
arose from the couch. I went to the window. I put my hands on the
bars. Many times, secretly, I had tried them. They were heavy, narrowly
set, reinforced, inflexible. I laid my cheek gently against them.
They felt cool. I then drew back and, my hands on the bars, looked
out, across the rooftops of Corcyrus, to the walls of the city,
and to the fields beyond. The city was muchly dark. Some of the
major avenues, however, such as that Iphicrates, were illuminated,
dimly, by lamps. In many Gorean citim when men go out at night, they
carry their own light, torches or lamps. I then looked upward, into the
humid night. I could see two of the three moons of this world. I then,
suddenly, angrily, shook the bars. They were for my own protection,
I had been informed. But I could not open them, or remove them, say,
with knotted clothing or bedding, to lower myself to the levels below.
They might indeed serve to keep others
out, perhaps climbing upward, or descending on ropes from the roof above,
but they surely served as well, and as perfectly, to keep me within! What
is this room, I asked myself, is it truly my protected quarters, or is it,
rather, my cell? I walked back to the center of the room, near the great
couch. I looked  at the bars. Then I went to the long mirror behind
the vanity. I looked at myself, in the mirror, in the dim moonlight,
filtered into the room. She is rather pretty, I thought. She may be
pretty enough, even, to be a slave.  Susan, I recalled, had thought
it possible that a man, some men at least, might find her of interest,
really of interest, of sufficient interest to be worth putting in
bondage. I wondered if she could please a man. Perhaps if she tried
very i hard to be pleasing some man, in his kindness, might find her
acceptable. I turned before the mirror, studying the girl that I was
thusly displaying. Yes, I thought, it is not impossible that I she
might be considered worthy of a collar. "Mistress would look well being
sold from a block," Susan bad said. "Are you free, Tiffany?" I asked
the image in the mirror. "Yes," I told myself. "I am free." I turned
my left thigh to the mirror, I  my chin. I studied the girl in the mirror.
I wondered what she would  like, with a brand, with a collar.
"You see, Tiffany," I said. "You are not branded. You are not collared."
I looked at the girl in the mirror. I wondered who I was, what I was.
"I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus!" I said.
But the girl in the mirror did not appear to be a Tatrix. She appeared,
clearly, to be something else.
I forced from my mind the memory of the slaves I had seen earlier,
the girls in the street, in their one-piece, skimpy garments, heads
down, kneeling, chained together by the neck, the girls in the market,
in their chains, stark naked, kneeling, too, their heads down to the warm
cement, being publicly displayed for sale.
"What are you?" I asked. "Do you not dare speak? Then show me.
Show me!"
Slowly, numbly, frightened, I turned about and went to the foot of
the great couch. I knelt there, and, putting my head down, tenderly
lifted up, in two hands, a length of the chain that lay coiled there.
I kissed it. "No!" I cried out to myself, replacing the chain. But then
I rose up and, timidly, softly, went to the wall where the whip hung. I
removed the whip from its hook and knelt down with it. I wrapped its
blades back about the handle. Then, humbly, my head down, submissively,
near thepoint where the five long, soft blades join the staff, holding
it in both hands, I kissed it. "No!" I wept, in protest. Then I replaced
the whip on its hook. I went then again to the mirror. The vanity was low
enough, meant to be used by a kneeling woman, and I was back far enough,
that I could see myself on the tiles, completely. I saw the girl in the
mirror kneel down. "No," I said. I saw her kneel back on her heels. I saw
her straighten her back, and lift her chin, and put her hands on her thighs.
"No!" I said. I saw her spread her knees. "No," I said. "No! No!" I had seen
girls in the palace do that, for example, when a free man had entered a room.
Sometimes, too, in identically this same position, they would keep their
heads submissively lowered, until given permission to raise them. This variation,
and similar variations, depend on the specific discipline to which a given
girl is subjected. The head is usually kept raised; this precludes the
necessity of a specific command to lift the head; in the head lifted position
she has no choice but to bare her facial beauty to the viewer; too, her least
expression may be read; too, of course, she can see who is in the room with her
and is thus better able, even from the first instant, to discern his moods,
anticipate his needs, and respond.  I leaped to my feet, furious with the girl
in the mirror. She, lied! She lied! I fled to the wardrobe. I flung back
the sliding doors. I  am Tatrix! I tore my yellow robe, that of brief
silk, from its carved hanger. I put it on me, swiftly, angrily, belting it,
tightly. I ran to the door leading from my quarters. I reached to the handle
and jerked it wildly towards me. I had opened this door a hundred times. I
cried out in surprise, in misery. This time it did not yield. I jerked
twice again, both of my hands on the handle. The door, somehow, was fastened
on the other side. It seemed, or something on it seemed, to strike against
some obstacle or barrier. I struck at it, pounding on it. "Let me out!"
I cried. "Let me out!"  I heard two sliding sounds. On the other side,
I knew, were four pairs of brackets. Never, however, as far as I knew, had
they been used. Two of these pairs of brackets were on the door itself,
one at the lower part of the door and one at the upper part. Matching them
in height, but in the wall, were sets. One of these pairs, its the other
two pairs of brack bars located on opposite sides of the door, corresponded
to the brackets, and the other pair, its members opposite one another,
one on each side of the door, corresponded to the lower-door brackets.
The door was thus, if beams or bars were to be inserted through these
brackets, prevented from swinging inward, its natural opening motion.
The door opened. Five guards were there. Two of them I noted, at a
glance, were laying heavy beams against the wall. It was these, then,
obviously, which had secured the door.
"The door was locked!" I said.
"Yes, Lady," said the leader of the guards. He was of the third rank,  like Drusus Rencius. He, like the others, seemed surprised. Obviously he had not expected to see me at this time of night, or this early in the morning.
"Why was the door locked?" I demanded.
"It is always locked at this time of night," he said.
"Why?" I demanded.
"Orders," said he.
"Whose orders?" I asked.
"Those of Ligurious," he said.
"Why would such orders be given?" I asked.
"It is custom," said the guard.
"Why?" I asked.
"To protect the Tatrix, I suppose," said he. "Surely we would not want her wandering about the palace at night."
"There is danger in the palace?" I asked, angrily.
The guard shrugged. "Perhaps an assassin might have gained entrance," he said.
"I would be safe enough accompanied by guards, I am sure," I said.
"At this Ahn," he said, "it is customary for the Tatrix to be within her quarters."
"I am leaving them," I said. I made as though to brush past him. But his arm, like a bar of iron, barred my way. "No, Lady, forgive me," he said, "but you'may not pass."
I stopped back. I was startled.
"I am Tatrix!" I said.
"Yes, Lady," said he.
"Get out of my way!" I said.
"I am sorry," he said. "You may not pass."
"Call Ligurious!" I said. I was determined to get to the bottom of this
matter.
"I cannot disturb the first minister at this Ahn," he said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"He is with his women," said the man.
"His women!" I said.
"Yes, Lady," said the man.
"I see," I said.
"If you wish," said the guard, "I can call Drusus Rencius."
"No," I said. "No." I then withdrew into the room. I saw the door close.
Then, a moment or so later, I heard the two beams, one after the other, slid into place.
"I am the Tatrix!" I screamed, angrily, from behind the door.
I then took off the robe, angrily, and threw it to the tiles. I could not go out. What need did I have of it?
Then, trembling, naked, with my finger tips, in the half darkness, in moonlit roonm, I examined the door. I even felt the great hinges, with their pins, like rivets, on my side of the door. The lower ends of the pins had been spread, beaten wide, so that they could not be forced upwards, freeing them. I sank to my knees behind the door. I lifted my head and put my finger tips to the heavy wood. "I am the Tatrix," I whispered. Then I rose to my feet and went to the side of the great couch. I looked back to the mirror behind the vanity. I saw the frightened girl there. She was, indisputably female, with all that that might entail on a world such as this.
 "I am the Tatrix," I whispered.
Then I crept onto the great couch. I lay on my stomach on the
couch, on the silk, near its foot. I supposed that sometimes girls might even be chained in such a place, like a dog at a man's feet, or perhaps even on the hard., cold tiles, under the slave ring. If I were so chained, I thought, I would quickly learn to be pleasing.
What manner of world was this, I wondered, on which I found myself.  It was a world, I thought, on which men had never relinquished their sovereignty, on which they had never submitted to the knives of psychic castration.
From Earth, I could scarcely believe the men of this world, in their power and naturalness.
Where were such men on Earth, I asked myself. They must exist there, some few perhaps, somewhere. Thousands, perhaps millions of women on Earth, I thought, must secretly pine for such men. How, without submitting themselves to such men, how without satisfying the complementary equations of sexuality, could their own femininity be fulfilled? I had wished to go forth in the palace. I had not been permitted to do so, by men. I was angry! But, too, I knew that there were other emotions, deeper emotions, unfamiliar and troubling emotions, uncontrollable emotions, that were welling up within me. These emotions frightened me, and released me. I had not been able to dowhat I wished. It had not been permitted by men. My will had been overridden. I had been forced to comply not with my own wishes but with those of others. I had had to obey. "I am a Tatrix!" I said, angrily. But I did not believe that it was aTatrix which lay most deeply within me.
"What am I?' I wondered.
I rose on the couch to a position half sitting, half kneeling. I looked atthe girl in the miffor, half sitting, half kneeling, as I was.
     "What are you?" I asked. "Are you a Tatrix?"
     She did not respond.
     "You do not look like a Tatrix," I told her. Again she did not respond.  I then lowered myself to the couch and lay, again, on my stomach,  near the foot of the couch. I recalled the girl in the mirror. I did not think she was so much different, truly, from the girls I had seen on the street, or those who had been chained on the cement shelves. I did not think that a man would think twice about it, for example, if he found her in a slave market.  I was angry with Ligurious. I bad been told he was with his"women."
     I wondered what it would be like to be one of his "women." Susan, I knew, was one of his women. She was half naked, branded and collared. She knelt before him, head down. She accorded him the utmost deference and respect. I wondered what it would be to be the woman of a man such asLigurious. Suppose I did not please him, I said to myself. Would I bewhipped? Yes, I said to myself, I would be whipped.
     "What am I?' I wondered.
     "I am a Tatrix," I responded.
     I saw then that it was near morning. I then fell asleep where I had lain down, near the bottom of the couch, near the chain and slave ring.


     "The arrogant knave now approaching the throne," said Ligurious,  whispering in my ear, "is Miles, an ambassador, and general, from Argentum."
     The fellow, approaching, coming up the long aisle toward
     "But do you not accept them for yourself, as well?" in
    quired Ligurious.
     "Had I my will," he said, "I would have come to the walls
    of Corcyrus not with the scrolls of protest but the engines of
    war."
     "Beware the quickness of your tongue," said Ligurious, "for you rant now not in one of Argentum's taverns but in Corcyrus, and before the throne of her Tatrix."
     "Forgive me, noble Ligurious," said Miles. "I forgot myself. It was a natural mistake. In the taverns of Argenturn we of Argcnturn are indeed accustomed to speaking freely before women such as your Tatrix. They are paga slaves."
     There were cries of rage about me.
     "Indeed," said he, "I have bad many women far superior to your
    Tatrix in just such taverns. They served,well in their chains, naked, in the pleasure alcoves."
     More than one blade about me slipped swiftly, menacingly, from its sheath.  Miles did not budge, nor flinch, at the foot of the throne. He had a great shock of black hair. His piercing gray eyes rested upon me. I wished that I was veiled. I did not think he would ever forget what I looked like.
     "Your scrolls have been examined," said Ligurious. "l, the Tatrix,  and those of the high councils, have scrutinized them with more care than they deserved. Their evidences are false, their arguments specious, their claims fraudulent."
     "Such a dismissal of their contents I expected," said Miles. "I myself would not have transmitted them. Better to have sent you the defiance of Argenturn and a spear of war."
     I myself had examined the scrolls only in a sense. Excerpts had
    been read to me, with criticism, by Ligurious. His analysis of their contents, I did not doubt, was sound. He was a highly intelligent man,  and familiar, clearly, with the geographical and political features of the problems. The issues had to do primarily with our silver mines, which,  unfortunately, lay near Argenturn. Force, it seemed, was required toprotect them. These mines were said to be almost as rich as those of Tharna, far to the north and east of Corcyrus. Ue claim of Argenturn,  course, was that the silver mines weretheirs. My education, so full and exacting in many ways, was incomplete in at least one obvious and glaring detail. I had not been taught to read Gorean. I was illiterate in Gorean.
     "It is fortunate for Corcyrus, and for peace," said Liguri
    ous, "that he with whom we truly have to deal is not Miles, general of
    Argentum, but with Claudius, her Ubar. He, I trust, is far less
    hotheaded. He, I trust, is more rational. He, I trust, may be expected to see reason and acknowledge, however reluctantly, the justice of our cause."
     "Corcyrus is not feared by Argentum," said Miles.
     "Yet," smiled Ligurious, "it seems that men with you have brought chests, bound with bands of iron, and intricately wrought coffers, to the foot of our throne."
     "That is true," said Miles. These chests and coffers were behind him,  on the floor.
     "If the gifts are suitable," said Ligurious, "our Tatrix,-after the
    cession of the mines, may be moved to deal somewhat less harshly with the miscreants of Argentum."
     "I am sure that Claudius, my Ubar, would be relieved to bear that,"  said Miles.
     Ligurious inclined big head, acknowledging these words graciously.  There was some laughter about me. I heard blades being returned to sheaths.
     "I see," said Ligurious, lightly, "that youbring With you no male silk slaves, in chains, to be presented to the Tatrix."
     "It is well known," said Miles, "that the Tatrix of Corcyrus is not interested in men, but only in gold and power."
      "'Beware," said Ligurious.
     I did not understand, truly, the remark of Miles of Argentum. I was not interested in men, of course, I reassured myself, as a woman of Earth, but, on the other hand, I did not think that I was unusually greedy either. Such things, at any rate, were generally not uppermost in my mind. There was a difference sometimes, I supposed, between the trueand reputed characters of public figures. How odd, sometimes, are fame and rumors. That I might conceivably be presented with male silk slaves took me aback for a moment but then I realized that, as a female ruler,  it was not out of the question that I might be presented with such gifts.
    Typical gifts for a male ruler, I knew, might include beautiful female slaves, additional riches for his pleasure gardens.
     "You may now open the chests and coffers," said Ligurious, eyeing them with interest.
     "How is it," inquired Miles, "that the Tatrix of Corcyrus. goes
    unveiled?"
      "It is custom," said Ligurious.
     "From our former messengers and envoys," said Miles, gather that the custom is a new one."
     "Every custom has its beginning," said Ligurious. I was interested to hear this. I had not realized that the custom was a recent one. Here are many justifications for initiating such a custom. Foremost among them, doubtless, is that it is now possible for her subjects to gaze upon her with awe and reverence.
     "I should think, rather," said Miles, smiling, "that you might fear that her subjects would gaze upon her not with awe and reverence, but interest."
     "Interest?" asked Ligurions.
     "Yes, said Miles, "wondering, perhaps, what she might look like in a collar."
     "I think it is time," said Ligurious, "that you should improve your service to your Ubar. Let us see what gifts he proffersto- Corcyrus,  petitioning for our mercy and favor."
     "Take no offense, Lady," said Miles to me, "for it is high
    commendation I extend to you. Though I have had many women  far superior to you, and even in the alcoves of taverns, I am not insensitive to your beauty. It is not inconsiderable. Indeed, I have no doubt that in the middle price ranges you would prove to be a desirable buy."
     I clenched my fists on the arms of the throne. How insolent he was!  How I hated him! I wondered, too, if some men, indeed, might find me a desirable buy.
     "Open the chests and coffers," said Ligurious, menacingly.
     "Surely Corcyrus needs no more riches," said Miles. "Consider the lavishness of the appointments of this hall, the richness of the regalia of those here convened."
     "Let us see what Claudius has sent us," said Ligurious.
     "I see rich cloths here," be said, indicating the cloths spread
    tastefully about the steps of the dais. "I see that there is gold in
    Corcyrus," he said, indicating the coins in their plentitudes, seemingly casually spilled about the steps. "I see, too," he said, "that there are beautiful slaves in Corcyrus." His eyes rested then, fully, upon Susan,  kneeling, chained by the neck to the side of my throne. This was not the first time that he had seen her, of course. Indeed, I had seen him picking her out more than once. I think he found her of interest. At any rate, clearly, she was not now being noticed in passing, as a mere component in a display, but was being attended to, observed,  scrutinized, even studied, as a specific,  individual slave, on her chain. She drew back, fearfully, witha small sound of the chain. She did not dare to meet his eyes.
       She clenched her thighs closely together. She was trembling
       her breathing was rapid; doubtless her heart was pounding;
       doubtless she was aware of it in her small rib cage. Yet I had
       seen her looking at him. She had hardly been able to keep
       her eyes from him. I supposed it was difficult for mere fe-
       male slaves, in their scanty garments, and in their lowly sta-
       tion, not to be excited by rich, powerful, handsome,
       resplendent free men, so far above themselves.-It was much
       easier for one like myself, a free woman, and richly robed, to
       control, resist and fight femininity. In the case of the slave,
       on the other hand, femininity is actually required of her.
       Indeed, if she is insufficiently feminine she will be beaten. It
       is no wonder female slaves are so helpless with men. I noted
       the eyes of Miles of Argenturn on Susan. She trembled, being
       appraised. I felt sudden dnger, and jealousy. He had not
       looked at me like thatl To be sure, she was a slave, and I was
       free. It would certainly be improper for anyone to look on
       me, a free woman, in that candid, basic wayl Too, Susan had
       me at a disadvantage. Would not any woman look attractive
       if she were half naked and put on a chain? flow could I
       compete with that? Let us both be stripped and chained, I
       thought, and then let men decide, examining us, which was
       most beautifull But then I realized that Susan was, doubtless,
       far more beautiful than 1. She was exquisite. It had been, no
       mistake on the part of slavers that she had been brought to
       Gor. I then thought that tonight I might whip Susan. She
       could not resist. She was a slave. I could have her take off
       her clothes and then tie her to a ring. I could then whip her.
       That would teach her to be more beautiful than I! Then I
       thought how absurd that was. It was not Susan's fault if she
       were more beautiful than 1, or my fault if I might not be, ob-
       jectively, as beautiful as she. I felt ashamed of my hostility,
       my jealousy. But Susan's beauty, I realized, then, was not a
       matter merely of features and figure, exquisite though these
       might be. Her beauty had to do more intimately and basically
       I thought, somehow, with matters which were more psycho-
       logical and emotional; it had to do, somehow, in its softness
       and femininity, with the slavery of her. I wondered if I might
       become more beautiful than I was. I wondered if I might be-
       come as beautiful, someday, as the women cited by Miles of
       Argentum as being so superior to me. I wondered if I might
    one day be so beautiful that he might see nothing to choose from, between me and them. I wondered if I might not, one day, even be their superior! But then I put such thoughts from my mind. Where was my pride and freedoml
     "Let us see," insisted Ligurious, "what Claudius has sent us
      Of course," said Miles of Argentum. He handed his helmet to one of the men about him. With a great key be unlocked the largest chest.
    The other chests and coffers, too, by others, were then unlocked.
     Ligurious, and 1, and the others, leaned forward, to  i.h
    glimpse the contents of these chests and coffers.
     "In. suit for the favor of Corcyrus, in deference and tribute to
    Corcyrus, Claudius, Ubar of Argentum," said Miles of Argenturn,  "sends this!"
     He flung open the great chest, and turned it to its side. The other chests and coffers, by his fellows, were similarly treated.
     'Nothing!" cried Ligurious. "There is nothing in them!"
     'And that," said Miles of Argenturn, "is what Claudius, Ubar of
    Argenturn, sends to Corcyrusl"
     "Insolence!" cried Ligurious. "Insolence!"
     Cries of rage broke out from those about me.
     Miles put out his hand and his helmet was returned to him. He put it again in the crook of his left arm. His great furred cape, by one of the men behind him, was adjusted on him.
     "I now leave Corcyrus," he said. "When I retu m', I shall have an army at my back."
     "You have insulted our Tatrix," said Ligurious.
     "Your Tatrix," said Miles, "belongs in a cage, a golden cage."
     There were further cries of rage from those about me. I did not
    understand, clearly, the nature of this insult, or the meaning of the reference to a golden cage.
     Here," said Miles, reaching into a pocket on his belt, "if
    you of Corcyrus are so eager for the silver of Argenturn, I
    will give you some." He held tip the coin. "This is a silver
    tarsk of Argentum," be said. He flung it to the foot of the
    dais. "I give it to you," he said. "It is about the worth of your
    Tatrix, I think, in so far as I am now able to assess her. It is,
I think, about what she would bring in a slave market."
     Blades flashed forth from sheaths. I saw Drusus Rencius
    restrain one man from rushing upon Miles of Ar entum. In
    the small retinue of Miles blades, too, had leapt from sheaths.
     "Strip him, and chain him to the slave ring of the Tatrixt"
    cried a man.
     I shuddered. I would be terrified to have such a man
    chained at my couch. It would be like having a lion there.
    Too, I thought, surely it would be more fitting for women, in
    their softness and beauty, with their dispositions to submit
    and love, irreservedly and wholly, as  king nothing, giving all,
    holding nothing back froin the dominant male, their master,
    to be chained to a slave ring. This, in its way, is a beautiful
    symbol of her nature and needs. On the other hand, symbolic
    considerations aside, it must be noted that the chain is quite
    real. She is truly chained there.
     Miles turned about and, followed by his retinue, left the
    great hall.
     Those about the throne, most bf them, began to take their
    leave.
     "Do you think there will be trouble?" I asked Ligurious.
     "No," he said. "Argentum, upon reflection, will think the
    better of her rash decision. Even Claudius knows that behind'
    us stands the might and weight of Cos."
     The ambassador, he, Miles, the general of Argentum," I
    said, "seemed very, firm."
     "He is a hothead," said Ligurious. "In time, have no fear,
    when there is a more objective assessment of realities, cooler
    wisdoms will prevail."
     "I would not like for there to be trouble," I said.
     "Do not worry about it in the least," said Ligurious. "Put
    all such matters from your mind. I assure you that there will
    be no trouble whatsoever. You have my word on it."
     "You relieve my mind," I said. "I take great comfort in
    your words."
     "What did you think of Miles of Argentum?" asked Liguri-
    ous.
     "I thought he seemed very strong, and handsome," I said.
     "I see," smiled Ligurious. "Incidentally," lie said, "would
    you like for me to have Susan whipped for you?"
                         ords of Ligurious there was a
     "Why?" I asked. At the small sound from the chain of Susan. She shrank back, cowering beside the throne.
     "Surely you saw her," said Ligurious, "when she knew her-
    self to be under the gaze of the sleen from Argentum. She
    was dripping to the tiles before him. Forgive me. I did not I
    mean to offend your sensibilities."
"She is only a slave," I said, lightly. Surely I could not ad-
    mit to Ligurious that 1, too, had been made uneasy by the
    presence of the ambassador from Argenturn.
     "True," laughed Ligurious. "I must take my leave now.
    Drusus Rencius will see you to your quarters."
     I nodded, permitting Ligurious to take his leave.
     "Thank you, Mistress," said Susan to me, kneeling beside
    the throne, "for not having me whipped."
     Is it true," I asked her, "that you might possibly have ex-
    perienced feelings of a sexuW nature before Miles of Argen-
    tum?"
     "I cannot help myself, Mistress," she said. "Before such a
    man I begin to secrete the oils of submission."
     "The oils of submission" I said.
     "Yes, Mistress," she said.
     "I have never heard them called that," I said.
     "It is what they are," she said, "at least in a slave."
     "Oh," I said.
     "Does Lady Sheila wish to return to her quarters now?" in-
    quired Drusus Rencius.
     "What of the treasures here," I asked, "and Susan, and the
    other slaves chained here?"
     "Scribes from the treasure rooms will be along shortly," he
    said, "to gather in and account for the cloths and coins. The
    palace slave master will be along later, too, to release the
    girls and put them back about their more customary duties."
     I then began to precede Drusus Rencius to my quarters.
    "Miles of Argentum is an arrogant knave, isn't he?" ; I asked
    Drusus.
     "So it would seem, Lady," said Drusus.
     I remembered the sight of the silver tarsk from Argenturn,
    in the hand of Miles of Argenturn, and the way it had
    looked, on the soft carpeting of the dais, on one of the broad
    steps leading tip to the throne.
     "Do you think," I asked, lightly, "that I might bring a sil-
    ver tarsk in a slave market?"
     "It would be difficult to say, without assessing Lady Sheila
    naked," he said.
     "Oh," I said.
     "Does Lady Sheila wish me to assess her naked in her
    quarters?" he asked.
     "No," I said. "No, of course notl"
     We continued to walk along the carpeted, ornamented cor-
    ridors toward my quarters.
     "But, from what you know of me," I said, "do you think
    that I might bring a silver tarsk?"
     "As a Tatrix," he asked, "or only as another woman in the
    market, another mere female, up for vending, one about
    whom there is nothing politically or socially special, one who,
    like most others, will be priced and sold only on her own
    merits?"
     "Like that," I said, "one whose price is determined merely
    by what she is, and nothing else."
     "Are you serious?" he asked.
     "Yes," I said, "as one whose value is determined only by
    herself."
     "I would think, then," he said, "the price would be too
    high."
     "Oh?" I said, angrily. "And what do you think I would go
    for?"
     "Lady Sheila must remember," said Drusus Rencius, "that
    even if she might prove to be quite lovely, she is still un-
    trained."
     "Untrained!" I cried.
     "Yes," he said.
  "You speak as if slaves were mere animalsl" I said.
        "they are," he said.
     I turned to face him, angrily. "And if I were such an ani-
    mal, and for sale, what do you think I would bring?" I asked.
     "May I speak with impunity?" he inquired, smiling.
     "Yes," I said, "of coursel"
     "My remarks," he said, "will be based on the hypothesis
    that Lady Sheila's figure is acceptable, that her curvatures fall
    within suitable slave tolerances."
     I looked at him.
     "Am I entitled to assume this?" he asked.
     "I suppose so," I said. I had no idea what these tolerances
    might be. I did regard myself as being rather pretty.
     "We shall further assume," be said, "that Lady Sheila's
    figure is not merely acceptable, but quite lovely. This, I think,
    from what I know of her, would be a fair assumption. In any
    event, it will enhance the speculation."
     "Very well," I said.
     "Your face, for example," he said, "is quite delicate and
    lovely. If your body matches it, I think you would clearly
    have the makings of a superb slave."
     "Proceed," I said. It pleased me to have received this com-
    pliment from Drusus Rencius. Too, I had little doubt but
    what my body, which is slender and lovely, and not overly
    developed, well matcbed -my face. Surely I would bring a
    high price.'
     "Let us, further assume," be-said, "that your beauty bag
    been enhanc'ed considerably, by being,%braDded and collared."
     "Very well," I said. I was beautiful. I would bring a high
    price indeed I
     "Even so," ' be said, "you have had no previous owners, as I
    understand it."
     "That is correct," I said.
     "Having been unowned," he said, "it seems natural, then,
    to assume that you are inexperienced and untrained."
     "Yes," I said.
     "And there are many beautiful women," he said. "There is
    no dearth of them in the slave markets."
     "And what, then," I asked, "do you think I would bring?"
     He looked at me, smiling.
     "What?" I asked.
     "I would think," be said, "that you would bring somewhere
    between fifteen and twenty copper tarsks."
     "Copper tarsksl" I cried.
     "Yes," he said.
     "Beastl" I cried. "Beastl"
     "But remember," he said, smiling, "it is slaves who are
    assessed and have prices. Free women are priceless."
     "Yes," I said, somewhat mollified,' stepping back. "Yesl" I
    must remember that I was priceless. I was a free woman.
     "Shall we continue on to your quarters?" he asked.
     "Yes," I said, and then, turning about, once more preceded
    him down the corridor toward my quarters.
     I had had matters out with Ligurious earlier, about such
    things as the barring on my door. My door, now, was no
    longer barred. The guards remained outside but that, of
    course, was an understandable precaution, one clearly in my
    own best interests, one pertinent to my personal security. Fur-
    thermore I was now free, almost whenever I wished, to go
    forth from my quarters. The only restriction was that I must
    be accompanied by my guard, Drusus Rencius.
     We stood on the height of the walls of Corcyrus, on a
    stone riser behind the parapet, which permitted us to look out
    over the parapet, rather than through its apertures, on the
    surrounding fields.
     "Not all places in Corcyrus," be said, "are safe, particu-
    larly at night, and not all are suitable for the sensibilities of a
    free woman."
     There was a breeze blowing toward us, over, the wall. It
    was welcome. I felt it move my veils back against my fea-
    tures. I reveled in its lightness and freshness.
     "You should adjust your hood," said Drusus Rencitis.  ff
     I had thrust it back, a few moments ago, to better revel in
    the breeze. To be sure, it was now possible to detect the color
    of my hair.
     Angrily I readjusted the hood. Drusus Rencius was so pro-
    tectivel
     He looked about, nervously. Why, I wondered, should be
    seem so tense or uneasy here.
     I could smell the tarns, gigantic, crested saddlebirds, on
    their perches some hundred feet away, to our right. There
    were five of them.
     "Do not approach them too closely," I had been warned by
    him.
     "Do not fear," I had laughed. I had a terror of such things.
     But why, then, if he were so wary of them, or fearful for
    my safety, had he wanted to come to this portion of the wall?
    It was he who had suggested that we come this close to those
    fearful monsters.
"I can still see your hair," said Drusus Renclus.
     I drew the hood angrily even more closely about my fea-
    tures. Little more now could be seen of me, as is common
    with the robes of concealment, but a bit of the bridge of my
    nose and my eyes. It was five days ago that I had suggested
    we come to the height of the wall, that I might look out. He
    had originally been reluctant to bring me here, but then, al-
    most too suddenly, it had seemed to me, had finally agr ed.
    Now, here on the walls, he seemed nervous.
     "You are still angry with me," I said, "about the Kaissa
    matches."
     "No," he said.
     "They were boring," I said.
     "Centius of Cos was playing," he said. "He is one of the
    finest of the players on Gor." The appearance of a player of
    the stature of Centius of Cos at the matches in a city such as
    Corcyrus, I gathered, had to do with the alliances between
    Cos and Corcyrus. Otherwise it did not seem likely to me
    that he would have graced so small a tournament with his
    presence. He had won his games easily with the exception of
    one, with a quite minor player, which he had seemed to pro-
    long indefinitely, as though attempting to bring about some
    obscure and particular configuration on the board. Then, ap-
    parently failing to achieve this, almost as though wearily, he
    had brought the game to a conclusion in five moves.
     "You are still angry with me," I said.
     "No," he said.
     "Yes, you are," I said.
     He did not respond.
     "They were boring," I said. I had asked to be brought
    home early.
     He did not respond.
     The most exciting thing about the matches from my point
    of view was going in and out of the grounds. There were
    several slave girls there, just outside the grounds, fastened to
    various rings and stanchions. They had been chained there, to
    wait like dogs for the return of their masters.
    "After you returned me to my quarters, I wager," I said,
    you returned to the matches."
    "Yes," he said. "I did."
    "And did you get to see your precious Centius of Cos fin-
    ish his final games?" I asked.
    "Yes," he said.
"Please do not be angry with me, Drusus," I said.
     "I am not angry with you," he said.
     I wondered why I had spoken as I had., I was a Tatrix. Au-
    thority was mine, not his. He was only a guard, a mere
    guard. Yet I did not want him to be angry with me. There
    was something in me, something deep, I did not know what,
    that wanted to be pleasing to him.
     I continued to look out over the fields. They were lovely.
    In a Gorean city it was not difficult for a woman to travel in-
    cognito. By the robes of concealment this is made easy. I
    wore the robes of a woman of high, caste, today the yellow of
    the Builders. Drusus Rencius wore a nondescript tunic and a
    swirling maroon cape. Ile only weaponry he carried, that I
    could detect, was his sword. He might have been any merce-
    nary or armed servant, in attendance on a lady. I was
    pleased to travel incognito in the city, in this fashion. Other-
    wise, had I gone abroad in the robes of the Tatrix, we would
    have been encumbered by guards and crowds; we would have
    had to travel in a palanquin; we would have been forced to
    tolerate the annunciatory drums and trumpets, and put up
    with all the noisy, ostentatious, dreary panoply of office. To
    be sure I sometimes found such accouterments stimulating
    and gratifying but I certainly did not waht them every time I
    wished to put my foot outside the palace gate.
     I thought I heard a small noise, as of metal, from within
    the cloak of Drusus Rencius.
     He had glanced to our right, to the tarns on their perches.
    They were saddled, and their reins were upon them. Tbey
    were ready for investigatory excursions or, if the randomly
    selected schedules were appropriate, for routine patrols. The
    left foot of each tarn, by a spring clasp, which could be
    opened by band, and a chain, was fastened to the perch. The
    birds, thus, for most practical purposes, could be brought to
    flight almost immediately. Their riders, or tarnsmen, were not
    in the immediate vicinity, but were, as is common, quite
    close, in this case in a guard station at the foot of the wall. In
    a matter of Ihn, given a command or the sounding of an
    alarm bar, they could be in the saddle.
     Drusus Rencius looked back from the tarns. I heard again
    the small sound of metal from within the cloak.
     He looked about, uneasily. This nervousness did not seem
    typical of him.
     "Have you heard aught of the sleen of Argentum?" I
     asked. It Mad been several days now since the return of Wes
     of Argenturn to his city.
      "No," said be.
      "It is nice of you to bring me here," I said. "It is a lovely
     vievi.
      He said nothing.
      "I enjoyed the song drama last night," I said.
      "Good," said he.
      To be sure it had been difficult for me, at my present level
     in Gorean, to understand all the singing. Too, the amplifica-
     tory masks, sometimes used in the larger of the tiered the-
    aters, somewhat distorted the sound. Some of the characters
     had seemed unnaturally huge. These, I'had been informed,
    wore special costumes; these costumes had expanded shoul-
     ders and had exaggerated hemlines, long enough to cover
     huge platform-like. shoes. These characters, thus, were made to
     appear larger than life. They represented, generally, impor-
     tant personages, such as Ubars and Ubaras. There had not
     been a great deal of action in the drama but movement on
     the stage was supplied in abundance by a chorus whose com-
     plex activities and dances served to point up and emotionally
     respond to, and interpret, exchanges among the principals.
     The chorus, too, sometimes singing and sometimes speaking
     in unison, took roles in the drama, such as first the citizens of
     one city and then of another, and then of another, and so on.
     It also was not above commenting on the activities and
     speeches of the principals, chiding them, calling certain omis-
     sions to their minds, offering them constructive criticism,
     commending them, encouraging them, and so on. Indeed, it
    .was not unusual for the chorus and a principal to engage
     with one another in discourse. What I saw was clearly drama
     but it was not a form of drama with which I was familiar.
     The chorus, according to Drusus Rencius, in its various sec-
     tions and roles, was the original cast of the drama. The
     emergence of principals from the chorus, of particular actors
     playing isolated, specific roles, was a later development. Some
     purists, according to Drusus Rencius, still criticize this inno-
     vation. It is likely to remain, however, in his opinion, as it in-
     creases the potentialities of the form, its flexibility and power.
     Such dramas, incidentally, are normally performed not by
     professional companies but by groups of citizens from the
     communities themselves, or nearby communities. Sometimes
     they are supported by rich citizens; sometimes they are sup-
    ported by caste organizations; sometimes, even, they are
    sponsored by merchants or businesses, as a matter of goodwill
    and promotion; sometimes, too, they are subsidized by grants
    from a public treasury. Art in a Gorean city is taken seri-
    ously; it is regarded as an enhancement of the civic life. It is so:
    not regarded as the prerogative of an elite, nor is its fate left
    exclusively to the mercies of private patrons. The story in the
    so g drarna, in itself, apart from its complex embellishments,
    was a simple one. It dealt with a psychological crisis in the
    life of a Ubar. He is tempted, in the purstfit of his own
    schemes, motivated by greed, to betray his people. In the end
    he is convinced by his own reflections, and those of others, of
    the propriety of keeping the honor of his own Home Stone.
     "What did you think of the drama?" Drusus Rencius had
    asked me last night. "The story of it," I had told him, seeking
    to impress'him with my intelligence, "aside from the im-      pressiveness of it, and the loveliness of its setting and Oresen-
    tation, is surely an unrealistic, silly one." "Oh?" he had asked.
    "Yes," I had said, "no true ruler would act like that. Only a
    fool would be motivated by considerations of honor." "Per-
    haps," had said Drusus Rencius, dryly. I had looked at him,
    and then I had looked away, quickly. I had felt like I might
    be nothing. He was -regarding me with total contempt.
     "I did enjoy the drama," I insisted to Drusus Rencius,
    standing on the riser, looking over the parapet, "really."
     "Splendid," he said.
     "I still think my comments were true, of course," I said
    lightly. Surely it would not do to retreat on such a matter.
    Besides, for most practical purposes, I did regard them as
    true. Who, in these days, in a real world, could take anything
    like honor seriously?
     "Perhaps," granted Drusus Rencius.
     "You are a hopeless romantic, Drusus," I said to him,
    turning about, laughing.
     "Perhaps," be said. He turned away from me. Again I
    heard the small sound in the cloak. He looked at the tarns.
     I turned away from him, hurt. I did not want him to be
    disappointed with me.
     "The view here," I said, lightly, "is lovely. We should have
    come here before."
     Perhaps," he said.
     I had seen much of Corcyrus in the past few days. Drusus
ncius, for tMe most part, had been an attentive and ac-
     modatiDg escort. 1. loved the markets and bazaars, the
    ells, the colors, the crowds, the. quantities and varieties of
    ods, the tiny shops, the stalls, the places of business which
    etimes were so small as a tiny rug on the stones, on
    ich a peddler displayed his wares. Drusus Rencius had
    - permitted me, with coins, helping me, to bargain. I had
     - very excited to come back to the palace with my small
    imphs. I loved shopping, and looking, even when I was buy-
    nothing. Trailing me about, while I satisfied my curiosity as
    curious nooks and crannies, must have been tiresome for
     sus, but lie had not complained. I had begun to fall in
    c with the Gorean city. It was so vital and alive. In partic-
    r I was excited by the female slaves I saw, barefoot, in
    ir tunics and collars, not exciting much attention, simply
    ing taken for granted, in the crowds. Such women were an
    epted part of Gorean life. Sometimes, too, I would see a
    ked slave in the crowd, one sent forth from her house only  i
    her collar. These women, too, did not attract that much at-
    tion. Their sight was not that uncommon in Gorean
    cets. One such woman, in particular, startled and excited
     She wore not only her collar. She also wore an iron belt
    is belt consisted of two major pieces; one was a rounded,
    ed, curved barlike waistband, flattened at the ends; one
    d of this band, that on the right, standing behind the
    man and looking forward, had a heavy semicircular ring,
    staple, welded onto it; the other flattened end of the waist-
    nd, looking forward, had a slot in it which fitted over the
    ple; the other major portion of this belt consisted of a-
    rved band of flat, shaped iron; one end of this flat band
    s curved about, and closed about, the barlike waistband in
     front; this produces a hinge; the flat, U-shaped strap of
    iron swings on this hinge; on the other end of this flat band
    iron is a slot; it fits over the same staple as the slot in the
    ttened end of the left side of the barlike waistband. The
    It is then put on the woman in this fashion. The waistband
    closed about her, the left side, its slot penetrated by the
    iple, over the right side; the flat U-shaped band of iron,
    ntoured to female intimacies, is then swung up on its hinge,
    tween her thighs, where the slot on its end is penetrated by
     staple, this keeping the parts of the belt in place. The
    whole apparatus is then locked on her, the tongue of a thrust through the staple, the lock then snapped shut.
           almost fainted when I first saw this thing. She actually wore
           it. It was on her! It was locked on herl The insolent mastery
           it bespoke made me almost giddy, the very thought that a
           woman might be subjected to such domination. She did not
           even control her own intimacies. They were controlled by
           him who owned her, and them.
         "You seem interested in the iron belt," had said Drusus
           Rencius. "No," I had said. "No!" "There are many varieties
           of such belts," said Drusus. "You see a rather plain one.
           the placement of the padlock, at the small of her back.
           regard that arrangement as more aesthetic; others prefer for
           the lock to be in front, where it may dangle before her, con-
           stantly reminding her of its presence. I personally prefer the
           lock in the back. Its placement there, on the whole, makes a
           woman feel more helpless. Too, of course, its placement
           there makes it almost impossible for her to pick." "I see," I
           had said. How irritated I had been then with Drusus. He had
           discussed the thing as though it might have been a mere,
           inconsequential piece of functional hardware. Could be, not
           see what it really was, what it meant, what it must teach the
           girl, how it must make her feel?
             "There are wagons," I said, pointing over the p4rapet.
           There were some five wagons approaching the city, in a
            line.
           Each -was being drawn by two strings of harnessed male
           slaves, about twenty slaves in each string.
             "Those are Sa-Tarna wagons," said Drusus, "bringing
            grain to the city."
             "What is that other wagon," I asked, "the smaller one,-
           there near the side of the road, which has pulled aside to let
           the grain wagons pass?" I had been watching it approach. I
           thought I knew well what sort of wagon it was. It was the
           sort of wagon whose contents are of so little value that it
           must yield the road in either direction to any vehicle that
                   to pass it. It was a squarish wagon. It was drawn
           might care
           by a single tharlarion, a broad tharlarion, one of Gor's
           quadrupedal draft lizards. It was covered by a canopy,
           mounted on a high, squarish frame, of blue-and-yellow silk.
     "Lady Sheila is much too innocent, and her sensibilities are
    far too delicate," said he, "to inquire as to what sort of
    His  wagon that is."
           "No," I said, "what?" I would pretend to an innocent igno-
           rance.
             "It is a slaver s wagon," he said, "a girl wagon."
"Oh," I said, as though surprised. After a time, I said, "I
    wonder if there are any girls in it."
     "Probably," said Drusus. "Its canopy is up, and it is ap-
    proiRching the city."
     "Are girls fastened in such wagons?" I asked.
     "Usually," be said.
     "How?" I asked.
     "The most usual arrangement," be said, "involves a metal
    bar and girls who are independently shackled. The bar runs
    parallel to the length of the wagon bed. It is a liftable bar. It
    has a binge at the end of the wagon bed near the wagon box.
    The bar is lifted, by means of the hinge, and the girls, by
    means of their ankle chains, are threaded upon it. It is then
    lowered and locked into a socket at the end of the wagon
    bed, near the gate."
     "They are then well held in place," I said.
     "Yes," be said.
     "Are they clothed in such a wagon?" I asked.
     "Sometimes they are, sometimes they are not," he said.
     "I see," I said. I wondered what it might feel like to wear
    shackles, to have my ankles chained in proximity to one an-
    other, to have the chain looped about such a bar, so that I
    might not, even if I wished, be able to pull my ankles more
    than a few inches from it. I wondered what it might feel like,
    to know myself so helplessly and perfectly confined. My
    breath began to come more quickly.
     "Lady Sheila seems much interested in-the small details in
    the lives of female slaves," he said. Perhaps he had noticed
    the quickening of my breath, in the inward movements of the
    veil.
     "Do not become presumptuous," I said.
     "Forgive me," He said.
     "I was merely curious," I said, irritably.
     "Ofcourse, Lady Sheila," he said. He need not know that I
    often, for no reason I clearly understood, in the loneliness of
    my quarters, slept at the lower end of the great couch, near
    the slave ring, and sometimes, seemingly almost unable to
    belp myself, had knelt beside it in the darkness, and kissed it.
     "The wagon is moving now," I said. The grain wagons had
    passed it. It was now, a~ain, pulling toward the center of the
    road, the high iron-rimmed wheels trundling on the stone,
    seeking the long, shallow, shiny, saucerlike ruts, polished in
    the stone by the earlier passage of countless vehicles. I had
 "It is natural for slavers to wish to get the highest possible
    prices for their girls," he said.
     "Of course," I said.
     I could not see the wagon now. It was somewhere below
    the wall.
     I straightened myself on the riser, behind the parapet.
    drew a deep breath. flow pl6tsed I was that I was freel How
    dreadful, how horrifying, it would be to be merely a lowly
    slave!
     "You seem nervous today, Drusus," I said.
     "Forgive me, Lady Sheila," he said.
     "Is there anything wrong?" I asked.
     "No," he said.
     "What is that sound from within your cloak," I asked, "as
    of metal?"
     "Nothing," said he.
     One of the tarns moved on the perch, several feet to our
    right. I did not wish to approach too closely to such things. I
    wondered why Drusus had'brought me to this particular
    place on the wall. The proximity of the tarns made it less
    pleasant than it might otherwise have been. 'ne view, how-
    ever, as I had remarked, was lovely.
     "You do not think much of me, do you, Drusus?" I asked.
     "I do not understand," be said, startled.
     "You think that I am pi;etty and ignoble, don't you?"
     "I receive my fees for guarding Lady Sheila," he said, "not
    for forming opinions as to her character."
     "Do you like me?" I asked.
     "Having suggested that I might think little of you, and
    might regard you as pretty and ignoble, now you inquire if 1
    might like you?" lie smiled.
     "It is not impossible," I said.
     He smiled.
     "Do you?" I asked.
     "Does it matter?" he asked.
     "No," I said, angrily. "Of course notl"
     "Then," he smiled, "there is no point in answering."
     "Do you?" I asked, angrily.
     "I am paid to guard you," he said, "not to consider any
    personal feelings, one way or another, which I might have
    towards you."
     "One way or another?" I asked, angrily.
     "Yes," he said.
"You despise and hate me!" I said.
     "I could find it easy to despise you," he said, "and, at one
    time, from all that I had heard of the Tatrix of Corcyrus, and
    know of her governance of the city, I would have thought it
    would also be easy to hate you, but now, now that I have met
    you, I could not honestly say that I hate you."
     "How flatteringl" I remarked.
     "Your official self and your personal self, or your public
    and private selves, seem quite different," he said.
     "Perhaps," I said, irritably.
      'It is doubtless that way with many people," he said.
     "Doubtless," I said.
     He looked from one side to the other, along the walk be-
    hind the parapet. For most practical purposes we were alone
    on the wall. The nearest people, a couple, were better than a
    hundred yards away, to our left.,He'looked again then to the
    tarns. Then he looked at me. Then, angrily, he looked out,
    over the parapet. His fists were clenched.
     1, too, looked out, over the parap6t. I could feel tears in
    my eyes. I wanted to please Drusus Rencius. I wanted, des-
    perately, for- him to like me. Yet everything I did or said
    seemed to be wrong. Then I was very angry with myself. It
    did not matter. I was not a slave at his f~et, half naked in a
    collar, fearful of his whip, piteously suing for the least sign of
    his favor. I was a Tatrix. He was only a guard, nothing! I
    wondered, shuddering, what it would be to be the slave of
    such a man. I did not think he would be weak with me. I
    thought that he would, like any typical Gorean master, keep
    me under perfect discipline.
     "I enjoyed the czehar concert," I said, lightly.
     "Good," he said.
     The czehar is a long, low, rectangular instrument. It is
    played, held across the lap. It has eight strings, plucked with
    a horn pick. It had been played by Lysander of Aspericbe.
    The concert had taken place two nights ago in the smll the-
    ater of Kleitos, off the square of Perimines.
      "The ostraka were quite expensive, weren't they?" I asked.
      "Yes," he said.
     It was quite commonly the case, I had learned, that for a
    concert by Lysander one could not buy admission at the gate,
    but must present ostraka purchased earlier in one of the
    market places or squares. These were apparently originally
    shells or pieces, shards, of pottery, but now were generally
    small clay disks, with a hole for a string near one edge. These
    were fired in a kiln, and glazed on one side. The glazing's
    colorations and patterns are difficult to duplicate and serve in
    their way as an authentication for the disk, the glazings dif-
    fering for different performances or events. The unglazed
    back of the disk bears the date of the event or performance
    and a sign indicating the identity of the original vendor, the
    agent authorized to sell them to the public. Some of these
    disks, also, on the back, include a seat location. Most seating,
    however, in Gorean theaters, except for certain privileged
    sections, usually reserved for high officials or the extremely
    wealthy, is on a first-come-first-ser-ved basis. These ostraka, on
    their strings, about the necks of their owners, make attractive
    pendants. Some are worn even long after the performance or
    event in question, perhaps to let people know that one was
    fortunate enough to have been the witness of a particular
    event or performance, or perhaps merely because of their in-
    trinsic aesthetic value. Some people keep them as souvenirs.
    Others collect them, and buy and sell them, and trade them.
    If the event or perfoxmance is an important one, and the os-
    traka are limited, their number being governed by the seating
    capacity of the structure or area in question, it is unlikely
    that they will be publicly displayed until after the event or
    performance. It is too easy to snatch them from about the
    neck in the market place. Too, sometimes rich men have
    been known to set ruffians on people to obtain them.
    Needless to say some profiteering occasionally takes place in
    connection with the ostraka, a fellow buying a few for a
    given price and then trying to sell them for higher prices later
    outside, say, the stadium or theater.
      "How much did they cost?" I asked.
      "Together," he said, "a silver tarsk."
     "That is more, I recall," I said, "than you thought I might
    go for if I were sold for myself alone, as a slave."
      "Yes," he said.
      I stiffened, somewhat angrily.
     "Lady Sheila must remember that she is not trained in the
    intimate and delicious arts of the female slave."
      "Arts?" I inquired.
     "Yes," said he, "the complex, subtle and sensuous arts of
    being pleasing, fully, to a man."
      "I see," I said.
           "It is natural," be said, "that some women will bring much
          higher prices than others.
            "Of course," I said, irritably.
          "Some women," he said, "do not even know the floor
          movements of an aroused, pleading slave."
          "They must indeed be stupid," I said. I had no idea, of
          course, what they might be.
          "I do not think they are necessarily stupid," he said,
          "merely ignorant, perhaps becabse untrained, or perhaps
          merely because they have not yet been awakened sexually,
          have not yet been forced to feel the slave fires in their belly,
          have not yet, by strong men, been made the helpless victims
          of their own now-enkindled needs
            "I thought Lysander played well," I said.
          "He is regarded as one of the finest czehar players on all
          Gor," said Drusus Rencius, dryly.
          "Oh," I said. I felt so stupid. It seemed I could do nothing
          right with Drusus Rencius.
            I looked out, again, over the fields.
            "Is Lady Sheila all right?" inquired Drusus Rencius.
            "Yes," I said.
          The last few days had been full - ones. Aside from the
          markets and bazaars, and the theaters in the evening, I had
          seen much else of Corcyrus as well. It had been pleasant to
          walk through the cool halls of the libraries, with their thou-
          sands of scrolls organized and cataloged, and through the
          galleries on the avenue of lphicrates. The fountains in the
          squares, too, were impressive. It was almost hard for me to
          remember that they were not merely ornaments to the city
          but that they also, in the Gorean manner, served a very utiti-
          tarian purpose. To them most people must come, bearing
          vessels, for their water. Some of the smaller fountains were
           worn down on the right side of their rim. That was where
           right-handed people would rest their hand, leaning over to
           drink. I particularly enjoyed the public gardens. Given the
           plantings flowers in them, of one sort or another, are in
           bloom almost all of the year. Here, too, are many winding
           and almost secluded paths. In them, combined, one finds
           color, beauty and, in many sections, if one wishes it,
           privacy.
           I knew few of the flowers and trees. Drusus Rencius, to my
           surprise, whenever I was in doubt, could supply me with the
           name. Goreans, it seemed, paid attention to their environ-
           ment. It means something to them. They live in it. How few
      children of Earth, I thought, are taught the names and kinds
    of the trees and shrubs, the plants, the insects and birds,
    which surround them constantly. I was also surprised to find
    that Drusus Rencius seemed genuinely fond of flowers. I
    would not have expected, given my Earth background, that a
    man of his obvious power and competence could care for
    anything, and so deeply, as innocent, delicate and soft as a
    flower. At one secluded point in one of the gardens I bad
    paused and, pretending to adjust my veil, had stood quite
    close to Drusus Rencius, but he bad stepped back, and looked
    away. tic had not kissed me. I had then, angrily, refastened
    my veil. I wondered why he had not kissed me. Was it be-
    cause I was a Tatrix? I wondered what it would be like to be
    kissed by him. I wondered if he might, touching my lips, I in
    his arms, helplessly held there, suddenly rape my lips with his
    kiss, and then, unable to help himself, hurl me to his feet,
    crouching over me then ferociously, to remove my robes and
    force me to his service.
     I felt the wind, over the parapet, move my veil.
     I bad enjoyed these days with Drusus Rencius but, at
    night, returned to my quarters, I would often be restless and
    lonely. At such times, though I did not confess this to
    Drusus, nor even to Susan, I would feel helpless, weak and
    needful. I had formed the habit, for no reason I clearly un-
    derstood, of sleeping near the foot of the couch or near the
    ring. I would sometimes lie there miserably, twisting and
    turning, almost sobbing, afflicted with helpless feelings and
    strange, troubling emotions that I could scarcely begin to un-
    derstand. I did not know what was wrong with me. I knew
    only that I felt empty, miserable and unfulfilled.
     Drusus Rencius occasionally took me to see various por-
    tions of local games. These involved such things as races, jav-
    elin hurling and stone throwing. I would usually stay for an
    event or two and then leave. On the whole I found such
    games boring. When I wished to leave, or change my loca-
    tion, to see something different, he always deferred to my
    wishes. I was, after all, the Tatrix and he was, after all, only
    my guard. From one set of contests, however, I could not, to
    his surprise, be budged. I bad sat on the tiers, close to the
    fenced enclosure, thrilled. These were contests of sheathed
    swords, the sheaths chalked with red, so that hits might be
    noted. The contestants were sturdy men, stripped to the waist,
    in half tunics, bronzed and handsome, with rippling muscles.
    As they thrust at one another and fended blows, moving with
    9reat speed and skill, in their swift passages, under the watch-
    ful eye of the referee, backed by two independent scorers, I
    could scarcely conjecture what would be involved in actual
    swordplay, with steel unencumbered with sheaths. I was terri-
    fled to consider it. And women, I thought, must abide its out-
    come. On a cement disk, about "a foot high and five feet in
    diameter, on the opposite side of the enclostire, as though in
    symbolism of this, a young, naked woman was chained. The
    chain was on her neck and ran to, a ring anchored in the cen-
    ter of the disk. It was long enough to permit her to stand
    comfortably which, sometimes, she did. Most of the time,
    however, she sat or lay, almost catlike, on the disk, watching
    the fighting. Her body was slim and well formed. Her hair
    was brightly red and, when she stood, it fell almost to her
    knees. When the contests had begun she had not seemed par-
    ticularly interested in them, but, as they had proceeded, she
    bad become more and more attentive. She was now watching
    them with great closeness. She was the prize. She would be
    given to the victor. "Do you wish to leave now?" Drusus
    Rencius had asked once, during an interval between passages.
    "No!" I had said. He bad regarded me, puzzled. "I want to
    see who wins her," I said, angrily. He looked over to the
    woman. She was then standing, the chain on her neck dan-
    gling down to the ring. She had one hand at her bosom. She
    was frightened. "She is only a slave," he had said. But he had
    sat down, patiently, beside me, content, it seemed, to wait un-
    til I was ready to leave. How angry I was with him them.
    Could he not conjecture the feelings, the trepidation, of the
    poor girl? She had a chain on her neck. She was a prize. She
    did not know to whom she would be awarded. She did not
    know who it would be whom she would have to serve, who it
    would be to whom she would belong! The poor, soft, helpless
    chained thing! How callous and stupid are men! Too, I like
    she, as fortunes shifted in the matches, as points were won
    and-lost, was torn back and forth in my conjectures and an-
    ticipations. Doubtless the men in the audience were intent on
    the bouts, observing the styles and skiUs of the contestants,
    tallying points, and assessing the play. Surely they seemed to
    have little mind for the chained prize. Surely they seemed ea-
    ger to applaud, striking their left shoulders, particularly fine a
    thrusts or particularly tight, fierce passages. 1, on the other
    hand, I am sure, tended to see the bouts rather differently.
   self at him like a tart, and had been rejectedl How could I
    have done that? Was I only a little tart, or was I a desperate,
    needful woman, one who had dared to be true to her needs?
    How I hated him! I was a Tatrix, a Tatrix! He was only a
    soldier, a mere guard! I had power. I c6uld have my ven-
    geance on himl I could tell Liguribus that he bad become
    fresh with me, that he had dared to try to kiss me. Surely he
    might be broken in rank for that, or whipped, or even slain! I
    wondered why he had not kissed me. Was il because I was a
    Tatrix? But I did not think that that thought, momentous
    though it might be, would have deterred a man such as
    Drusus Rencius. Was it then because I was not sufficiently at-
    tractive? Perhaps. But on Earth I bad been thought to be
    very pretty. Too, Miles of Argenturn had speculated that I
    might bring as much as even a silver tarsk in a market. Was
    it then because I was free? Were Gorean men spoiled for free
    women by those collared, curvacious little sluts they had
    crawling about their feet, desperately eager to please them?
    Given such luscious alternatives it was natural enough, I sup-
    posed, that men would see little point in subjecting them-.
    selves to the inconvenience, frustration and pain of relating to
    a free woman, with her demands, inhibitions and rigidities.
    Perhaps they could not be blamed for not choosing to reduce
    the quality of their lives in this fashion. To be. sure, if slaves
    were not available, then it was understandable how men
    might relate to free women. Sexually starved, and driven by
    their needs, they would then be forced to make do with what-
    ever might be available, the best in such a case perhaps being
    the free woman. But on Gor alternatives, real alternatives,
    slaves, were available. It was no wonder free women as I had
    beard, so bated slaves. How could they even begin to com-
    pete with a slave, those dreams come true for men? Perhaps
    that is it, I thought, perhaps that is why he did not kiss me.
    Perhaps fie did not kiss me because I was free, or, I added, in
    my thinking, not truly understanding the qualification, be-
    cause he thought I was free. I lay there in the darkness, in
    the heat of the silks. I wondered why I had made that qualifi-
    cation in my thinking-"because he thought I was free."
    Could he have been wrong, I asked myself. Could he have
    been mistaken? How absurd, I thought. What could you pos-
    sibly mean, I asked myself. The meaning is perfectly clear, I
    told myself, irritably. Are you stupid? I am a Tatrix, I cried
    out to myself. I am freel Of course, I am freel "Go now to
     the slave ring," a voice seemed to say to me. I got up and, al-
    most as though in a trance, scarcely understanding what I
    was doing, went to the slave ring, that at the foot of the
    couch. I knelt there. "Are you positioned at the ring," the
    voice seemed to say. "Yes," I whimpered, to myself. "Take it
    in your hands, Tiffany," it said, "and kiss it." I took the
    heavy ring in uny hands, lifted it, and kissed it. I then put it
    back gently, lovingly, against the couch. I then felt it would
    be permissible for me to return to the couch. I crawled again
    upon it, to its center. "Get where you belong," said the voice,
    a bit impatiently. I crawled then to the bottom of the couch
    and lay there, near its foot, by the slave ring. I wondered if
    Drusus Rencius would have refused to kiss me if I had not
    been a free woman, but a slave. If I had been a slave, say,
    perhaps, a fifteen-copper-tarsk girl, that amount for which be
    had once suggested a slaver might let me go, I think I might
    have received a somewhat different treatment at his bands.
    "It is fortunate for you," said the voice within me, "that
    Drusus does not know that you are a slave." "I am not a
    slave," I said, aloud. "I am not a slave!" "Remain where you
    are, at the foot of the couch, until morning," said the voice
    within me. "I will," I said, frightened. I had then fallen
    asleep. To my embarrassment I was still there in the morning
    when I awakened, Susan having entered the room. "I must
    have moved about in my sleep," I said to Susan. "Yes,
    Mistress," she had said, her head down, smiling. I had con-
    sidered whipping her, but I had not done so. "What is it like,
    being owned, and having a master," I had later asked Susan,
    while being served breakfast, as though merely curious. "Con-
    sider yourself as having a master, and being owned," said
    Susan, "that you are totally his, and that he may do with you,
    fully, whatever he wants." I shuddered. "it is like that," she
    said, "only it is real." "I see," I had whispered.
I stood on the riser, behind the parapet.
     "I hear it again," I said, "that sound, as of metal, from
    within your cloak. What is it?"
     "Nothing," he said.
     On Gor my entire mind and body, in the fullness of its
    femininity, had come alive, but yet, in spite of my new vital-
    ity and health, I was in many ways keenly miserable and un-
    fulfilled. On Earth, in its pollutions, surrounded by its
    crippled males and frustrated women, exposed to its antibio-
    logical education and conditionings, subjected to the perver-
    sions of unisex, denying their sexuality'in its fullness to both
    sexes, the nature of the emptiness in my life, and its causes,
    had been, in effect, concealed from me. I hhd not even been
    given categories in terms of which I might understand it.
    Where I bad needed reality and truth I had, been given only
    lies, propaganda and false values. Here on Gor, on the other
    band, I *was becoming deeply in touch with 'my femininity.
    as keenly and deeply, never on Never on Earth had I felt it
    Earth had I been so deeply sensitive to it, so much aware of
    its needs, delicacy and depth. But here on Gor I was clearly
    aware of my lack of fulfillment, instead of, as on Earth, usu-
    ally only vaguely or obscurely aware of it. What haa been an
    almost unlocalizable malaise on Earth, except at certain times
    when, to my borror, I had understood it more clearly, on Gor
    had become a reasonably clearly focused problem. On Earth it
    had been as though I was miserable and uncomfortable with-
    out, often, really knowing why, whereas on Gor I, bad sud-
    denly become aware that I was terribly hungry. Moreover, on
    Gor, for the first time, so to speak, I had discovered the
    nature of food, that food for which I so sorely hungered, and
    the exact conditions, the exclusive conditions, perhaps so hu-
    miliating and degrading to me, yet exalting, under which it
    might be obtained. Such thoughts I usually thrust quickly
    from my mind.
     "You are right, Drusus," I said, suddenly. "Slaves are
    unimportant. They are nothing."
      "Of course," be said. "But what has brought this to mind?"
      "A conversation I had this morning with that little chit of a
    slave, Susan."
      "Ob," be said.
      "It is unimportant," I said.
      He nodded.
      "Do you know her?" I asked.
      "I have seen her, yes, several times," be said.
      "What do you think she would bring?" I asked.
     "She is a curvaceous little property," be said, "and seems to
    understand herself well, and the fittingness of the collar on
    her beck."
      "Yes?" I said.
      "Three tarsks, perhaps," he said.
      "So little?" I asked, pleased.
      "Three silver tarsks, of course," said he.
     "Oh," I said, angrily.
     "T'here is little doubt what she would look like at the slave
    ring," he said, "and, too, she has doubtless received some
    training."
     I did not doubt but what Susan, the little slut, had received
    sonic training. There was not a detail about her which did
    not seem, in its way, a perfection.
     This morning she had again, in entering my quarters, dis-
    covered ine near the foot of the couch. Usually, early in the    JI
    morning, before she entered, I would try to be elsewhere.
     "I do not know what is wrong with me," I confessed to
    her, desperately needing someone to talk to, as she served my
    breakfast. "I sometimes feel so empty, so miserable, so
    uncomfortable, so meaningless, so restless."
     "Yes, Mistress," she had said, deferentially.
     "I just do not know what is wrong with me," I had lament-
    ed.
     "No, Mistress," she had said.
     "You," I said, "on the other hand, seem contrastingly con-
    tent and serene, even fulfilled and happy."
     "Perhaps, Mistress," she smiled.
     "What is wrong with me?" I asked.
     "Your symptoms are clear, Mistress," she said.
     "Oh?" I said.
     "I have seen them in many women," she said.
     "And just what is wrong with me?" I asked, irritably.
     "I would prefer not to speak," she said.
     "Speak!" I had said.
     "Must IT' she asked.
     "Yesl" I said.
     "Mistress needs a master," she said.
     "Get outl" I bad screamed, leaping to my feet, kicking
    aside the small table, sobbing. "Get outl Get outt"
     The girl had fled from the room, terrified.
     I bad sobbed then in the room, and thrown things about
    and run to the wall, and struck it with my fists, weeping.
    "No!" I bad cried. "That is stupid, stupidl She is wrong,
    wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!"
     Only later had I been able to wash and compose myself,
    and prepare to accompany Drusus Rencius to the height of
    the walls, to enjoy the view, as we had planned. I had re-
    called that he had not, initially, wished to take me to the
     walls, and then, rather suddenly, it had seemed, had agreed to
           do so.
             "I am a larger woman than Susan," I informed Drusus
           Rencius, on the wall, acidly. "I am taller, and my breasts are
           larger, and my hips are wider."
              "These things being equal, such things might somewhat
            improve your price," he admitted
             "I scorn slaves," I said. "I despise them."
             "Quite properly," said he.
             I looked out, over the wall.
             How pleased I was that I was freel How frightful, how ter-
           rible, it would be, to be a slave!
             "Is Lady Sheila crying?" he asked.
             "No!" I said.
             I fought the wild needs within me, seeming to well upfrom
           my very depths, needs which seemed to be to surrender, to
           submit and love, totally. irreservedly, giving all, asking
            nothing. How superficial, suddenly, seemed then the
           dispositions  to selfishness and egotism in me. From
           whence could these other emotions, so overwhelming
           within me, have derived, I  asked myself. Surely they,
           frightening me in their way, seemed directly at odds with
           the Earth conditionings which I had been subjected. I feared
           they could have their source
         only in the very depths of my nature and being.
           I dabbed at my eyes with the corner of my veil. "I am not
           crying," I said, "It is the wind." I then turned about, to look
           back from the wall over the city of Corcyrus. "Here," I said.
           "That is better."
             The tarns on their perches were now on my left.
           I looked over the roofs of Corcyrus. I could see, among
           trees, the various theaters, and the stadium. I could see the
           palace from where we stood. I could see, too, some of the
           gardens, and the-roof of the library, on the avenue of lph-
           icrates.
             "The city is beautiful," I said.
             "Yes," he said, joining me in surveying it.
           I was in love with the Gorean world,-though I found it in
           some ways rather fearful, primarily, I suppose, because it
           permitted female slavery.
           I wondered if Susan were right, if J needed a master. Then
           I put such thoughts from my mind, as absurd.
           I was not a cringing, groveling slave, a girl locked in a cot-
           lar, who must hope that some brute might see fit to throw
     her a crust of bread. I was quite different. I was a woman of
    Earth. I was proud and free. Indeed, on this world I even en
    joyed a particularly exalted status, one a thousand times be
    yond that of my imboDded sisters in the city below. I was a
    Tatrixl
    I looked down from the wall, over the many roofs of Cor
    Cyrus.
    Why was Susan happy, and I miserable? She was only a
    collared slave. I was free.
    I surveyed Corcyrus. In the Gorean world, and I some
    tim~s still had difficulty coping with this comprehension, fe
    male slavery was permitted. How horrifying! Yet something
    deeply within me, undeniably, was profoundly stirred and ex- cited by this com prehension. This stirring within me troubled
    me. It did not seem to be a response which I had been
    taught.
    "There is the palace," said Drusus Rencius, pointing.
    "I see," I said.
    Given the sovereignty of males in nature, general among
    the mammals and universal among the primates, it was
    natural enough, I supposed, that in a civilization congenial to
    nature, rather than in one opposed to it, that an institution
    such as female slavery might exist. This might be regarded as
    the civilized expression of the biological relationship, a recog
    nition of that relationship, and perhaps an enhancement, rie
    finement and celebration of it, and, within the context of
    custom and law, of course, a clarification and consolidation
    of it. But why, I asked myself, irritatedly, should a civiliza
    tion be congenial to nature? Is it not far better, I asked my
    self, for a civilization to contradict and frustrate nature; is it
    not far better for it to deny and subvert nature; is it not far
    better for it to blur natural distinctions and CODfUse identities;
    is it not far better for it, ignoring human happiness and ful
    fillment, to produce anxiety, guilt, frustration, misery and
    pain?
    "There is the theater of Kleitos," said Drusus Rencius, "the
    library, the stadium."
    "Yes," I said.
    But whatever might be the truth about such matters, or the
    optimum ways of viewing them, female slavery, on Gor, was
    a fact. There were, as I had long ago learned, slaves here. I
    looked out, over the city. In the city, within these very walls,
    there were women, perhaps not much different from myself,
    in collars, who were literally held in categorical, uncom-
    promised bondage. I had seen several of them, in their dis-
    tinctive garb, in their collars. I had even seen one who, naked
    and in her collar, had been locked in an iron belt. Such
    women were owned, literally owned, with all that that might
    mean.
    . "There, where you see the trees," said Drusus Rencius, "is
    the garden of Antisthenes."
     "How many slave girls do you suppose there are in Cor-
    cyrus?" I asked, as though idly.
       do not know," he said. "Probably several hundred. We
    do not count them."
     "Do such women seem happy?" I asked.
     "As they are only slaves," said Drusus Rencius, "their
    feelings and happiness are unimportant."
      Of course," I said. Men arie such brutest How helpless are
    the slavesl
     "There, where you see the trees," said Drusus Rencius,
    again, "is the garden of Antisthenes."
     "Yes," I said. We had visited it twice. It was there, on our
    second visit, that I had first tried to entice Drusus Rencius to
    kiss me. The second time had been after we had witnessed
    the fencing matches. I had been rejected both times. I won-
    dered if I would have been rejected had I been a collared
    slave. To be sure, he might have made 'me whimper and beg
    for his kiss.
     I rejected an impulse to kneel before Drusus Rencius. How
    I hated himl
     "Tlere are places you have not taken me in Corcyrus," I
    reminded him.
     "Perhaps," he granted me.
     "Therewas a place two days ago," I said, "which we
    passed in the afternoon."
     "Surely you heard the music which was coming from
    within?" he asked.
     "Yes," I said. It would not be easy to forget that music, so
    melodious, so exciting and sensual.
     "A girl was dancing within," he said. "It was a paga tavern."
     "You did not let me enter," I said.
     "Such girls often dance in little more than jewels, or
    chains," he said. "It is better, I think, too, that free women
     not see how they look at men and bow they move before
    them."
     "I see," I said. "And bow do men find such women?"
     "Ii is in the best interests of the woman," said be, "that the
    men find her pleasing, very pleasing."
     461 see," I said, shuddering. I wondered if I could be pleas-
    ing to a man in that way, dancing before him, and then,
    later, if he had paid my owner my price, in an alcove. Most
    girls in such a place, I had heard from Susan, but generally
    not the dancers, came merely with the price of the drink it-
    self. I supposed that if one were a dancer, and was then serv-
    ing in an alcove, an additional price having been paid for
    one's use, one would have to strive to be particularly good.
    Gorean men, I was sure, would see to it that they got their J,
    money's worth.
     "Sometimes I feel sorry for slaves, mere slaves," I said.
     "Do not," lie said.
     "Why not?" I asked.
     "As you suggest," he said, "they are merely slaves."
     "Of course," I said, bitterly.
     "Does Lady Sheila identify with slaves?" be asked.
     "No," I said. "Of course nott"
     "Good," lie said.
     "Why is it good?" I asked.
     "It is said," he said, "that she who identifies with slaves
    wants the collar on her own neck."
     "No!" I cried.
     "It is only a saying," he said. "Another such saying is that
    she who identifies with slaves is a slave."
     "Absurd!" I said.
     "Doubtless," lie said.
     "But if I were a slave," I said, poutingly, "I suppose I
    would have to obey. I would have to do what I was told." I
    stood quite close to him. I was quite small compared to him.
    His size and masculinity made me feel weak.
     "Yes," he said, looking down into my eyes. "In such cir-
    curnstances, you would have to obey. You would have to do
    what you were told."
     I turned away from him, suddenly, f:-ightened, and looked
    again out over the wall, toward the fields. The tarns, now,
    were again on my right.
     "It is fortunate that I am not a slave," I laughed.
     "Yes," he said.
   "Soldiers, too, are to obey, are they not?" I asked.
            "Lady?" he asked.
          "Hereafter," I said, "when I wish to go somewhere, or do
          something, I shall expect you to respect my wishes."
          "If Lady Sheila is dissatisfied with my services," he said,
          "she need only call this to the attention of Ligurious, first
          minister of Corcyrus. A replacement, perhaps one more
          pleasing to her, may then be assigned."
          "N"ile you are assigned as my guard," I said, "you will
          obey me. I shall decide if, or wlicn, you are relieved of your
          duties, or even if you are to be discharged entirely from the
          service of Corcyrus."
            "Yes, Tatrix," be said.
          "Your services are not entirely displeasing to me," I said,
          "but it is my intention to see that they are improved. I am
          Tatrix of Corcyrus."
            "Yes, Tatrix," he said.
          "Should I wish to enter a paga tavern, for example," I said,
          64you will accompany me."
          "In most paga taverns," he said, "free women are not per-
          mitted. In some they are."
          "I see," I said. To force an entry to such a place, I then
          understood, might necessitate an altercation, one perhaps
          ensuing in the exposure of my identity as the Tatrix. A com-
          mon free woman, for example, might simply be forbidden to
          cross certain thresholds.
          "Too," he said, "even if commanded, I could not know-
          ingly lead you into danger, for example, into certain sections
          of the city at night. It is my duty to protect the Tatrix, not to
          place her in jeopardy."
          "You are an excellent guard, Drusus," I said. "You are
          right, of course."
          "I could take you to a tavern in which families are served,"
          he said.
          "It was not such a tavern I had in mind," I said.
            "Oh," he said.
            "Slaves can enter taverns, can they not?" I asked.
           "If on an errand, or in the company of, a free person," he
           said.
           "There seems little concern for their sensibilities," I ob-
           served.
           "Sometimes," said he, "they are even taken to such places
           by their masters, that they may see the paga slaves, and the
    dancers, and thus learn from them how to serve even more
    deliciously and lasciviously in the privacy of their own quar-
    ters."
     "What if I were clothed as a slave?" I asked.
     "It is unthinkable!" he said.
     I was pleased that this thought, obviously, had touched a
    nerve in him. I wondered if he had speculated, privately, on
    what I might look like clad as a slave, or perhaps, in chains,
    not clad at all. Many men had probably wondered what I
    looked like, naked. I had always been rather jealous, rather
    privat~, about my body, though. I had never had a master
    who might simply order me to strip. I had been seen naked,
    of course, by the men in my apartment, when they bad re-
    moved the towel from me. I remembered how casually and
    efficiently they had handled me, how I had been injected with
    the contents of the syringe, how I had been secured with
    leather straps, helpless aqd gagged, in the heavy metal box,
    with air holes.
     "Too," he said, "in so public a place you might, unveiled
    as is a slave, be recognized. Your resemblance to the Tatrix.,
    at least, Would surely be noted."
     "You are right again, of course," I said. He was.
     He was silent.
     "Drusus," I said.
     "Yes," said be.
     "I would like to see a slaver's house, inside. I would like to
    see the 'pens."'
     "Such are not fit for the sensibilities of a free woman," he
    said.
     "I would like to see them," I said. "That would not be dan-
    gerous, would it?"
     "No," he admitted, reluctantly. Such places, I gathered,
    might be among the -safest on Gor. I could scarcely conjec-
    ture the effectiveness of the security that might be practiced
    within them, how helplessly the slaves might be confined.
    Too, a free person on Gor is almost never in any danger
    from a slave unless it be a guard slave, and he is attacking its
    master. In some cities a slave can be slain for so much as
    touching a weapon. Insurbordination, slaves are quickly
    taught, is not -acceptable, in any way, to the Gorean master.
     "Then," I said, triumphantly, "I shafl expect you to ar-
    range a tour."
"Are there any particular pens of interest to Lady Sheila?"
    he asked.
     "The choice," I told him, airily, "may be yours."
     "Did you merely wish to see girls in the grated ts, or
    chained in their kennels, or at their rings," he asked, or did
    you wish, perhaps, to gain also an idea of what goes on in
    such a house?"
     "What do you mean?" I asked.
     "How, for example," he said, "girls might be trained."
     "That might be interesting," I said, as though considering
    it, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. The
    thought of women being trained, actually trained, as Susan
    might have been trained, almost made me faint with excite-
    ment. I wondered if I might train well. I supposed I might be
    punished if I did not. Under such conditions I suspected I
    would train quite well. I would do my best to be a diligent
    and apt pupil.
     "Your presence, of course," he said, "as you may be
    aware, may inhibit the slaves."
     "You are an intelligent man," I said. "Perhaps you can fig-
    ure out a way to prevent that."
     "It might be possible," he said, "in the privacy of the
    house, where few would know you."
     "What do you have in mind?" I asked.
     "Do you have pretty legs?" he asked.
     "Yesl" I said. I thought I had very pretty legs.
     "It might be possible," he mused.
     "Tomorrowl" I said.
     "So soon?" he asked.
     "Yes," I said.
     "Why should you wish to see such a place?" be asked.
    "Why should it be of interest to you?"
     "I am merely curious," I said, tossing my head.
     "Tomorrow?" he asked.
     "Yes," I said.
     "I shall attempt to make the arrangements," he said.
     "Do so," I said. "I shall be totally cooperative." I then
    heard again that small sound, as of metal, from within his
    cloak.
     "Why did you wait so long to bring me to the height of the
    wall?" I asked. That small sound of metal had reminded me
    of his reticence with respect to its origin. That had puzzled
    me. Too, I recalled his earlier nervousness, though now that
   had seerried to pass. Too, I had not understood why he had
     brought me to this particular place on the wall. Its proximity
    to those fearful tarns, only feet away, had been unsettling.
      He shrugged. Too suddenly, it bad seemed, after earlier de-
     murrings, he had brought me to the wall. It had almost been
    as though he had -decided on some action. His nervousness,
     too, had sacnied uncharacteristic. What was there here, other
     than the tarns, which need not be closely approached, to be
    nervous about?
      "You seem strange today, Drusus Rencius," I said. "You
    seem less communicative than usual. There are many things
     here I do not understand. I do not know why you hesitated
     so long to bring me here. It is a lovely view. Then why would-
     you have so suddenly, so belatedly, have found my suggestion
     agreeable? Had something happened to make you change
     your mind? Why, too, earlier, did you seem so distracted, as
     though yout thoughts were elsewhere? Too, of all these places
     on the wall, why did you bring me here, so close to those ter-
     rible birds.,They frighten me."
        arn a. poor guard, Lady Sheila," he said. "Too, I am
     poor company this day. Forgive me. Worse, I fear I am a
     poor soldier."
      "Why should you say that?" I asked. That genuinely
     puzzled me.
      I had long considered bringing you to this place, Lady
     Sheila," he said, "even before you yourself expressed an inter-
     est in the walls, but, again and again, I forced the thought
     from my mind. This thought I resisted further, even more
     tenaciously, when you yourself broached it, now and again.
     Then finally, after much troubled thought, it seemed to me
     that perhaps it was best that I let myself accompany you
     here."
      "I do not understand what you are saying," I said.
      "Here I would be alone with the Tatrix of Corcyrus, near
     saddled tarns," he said. "It seemed then that I knew what I
     should do. It seemed then that a given course of action would
     be appropriate. It would be easy enough to execute. Indeed, I
     could undertake it now. it is perhaps what I should do. I
     shall not, however, do it. I contravene no orders. Rather I
     will let the game take its course."
      "You speak in riddles," I chided him.
      "Let us now descend from the wall," he said. "Let us now
     return to the palace."
    I glanced at the tarns. They were gigantic, fierce birds.
    rusus Rencius stood close behind me. I thougttt for a mo
    ment he might take me in his arms. I felt faint. I wanted him
    to do so.
     "What is that sound from within your cloak?" I asked.
     "Nothing," he said.
     "Show me," I said. I turned. He held open the side of the
    cloak, it then like a curtain between me and the city. The
    parapet was at my back.
     There, held by a snap catch against the silken lining of the
    great cloak, looped, in coils, there hung a set of light chains.
    I could not determine the exact arrangement of the chains,
    coiled as they were. There seemed, however, to be a longer
    chain, which was a base chain, and two smaller, subsidiary
    chains. At one end the base chain was attached to a rather
    small neck ring, but suitable for closing about a woman's
    neck; at the other end it was attached to one of the subsidi-
    ary chains, about a foot long, and terminating on each end
    with a ring; those rings looked as though they might fit
    nugly about a woman's ankles; the other subsidiary chain
    seemed to be placed about two feet or so below the, neck
    ring; at its terminations were smaller rings, which looked as
    though they might close snugly, locking, about a woman's
    wrists.
     "What is that?" I asked.
     "It is called a sirik," he said.
     "Do men carry such things?" I asked.
     "Sometimes," he said.
     I wondered what chains like that would feel like on my
    body. They looked very graceful. They were doubtless flatter-
    ing. Too, they would hold me quite well.
     "Let us descend from the wall," said Drusus Rencius. "Let
    us return to the palace."
    "It is so skimpy," I said, "so tiny."
     "Retire behind the screen," he said, "and put it on."
     I hurried behind the three-part screen in one corner of'The
    large, well-fit room in the inn of Lysias, off the square of
    Perimines, on the street of Philebus. It is not far from the
    house of the slaver, Kliomenes, on Milo Street. We had en-
    tered the inn through its front door. We would leave it
    through its back door, which opened onto an alley. Later, we
    would return to it through this same back door. We would
    then take our final exit, once again, later, through the front
    door.
     I put the small garment on the broad, dark-stained, pol-
    ished boards of the floor near my feet, behind the screen. I
    then began to remove the veils -and robes of concealment.
    "'I'liere is no place back here," I said, "to put my garments."
     "Put thern on the top of the screen," be said. I will fold
    them and place them on the chest." I did this, reaching above
    my head to place them on the top of the screen. He then re-
    moved them from this location.
     "You are to be barefoot," he said.
     I removed my slippers and put them to the left side of the
    screen. I saw his hand take them.
     I then removed the remainder of my garments, and saw
    them, from the top of the screen disappear. Now, behind the
    screen, I was naked. Only an inch of wood separated me
    from such a man. I wished that I had retained some of my
    other garments behind the screen, if only for psychological
    security. I felt the dark, polished floor beneath my bare feet.
    I felt the air of the room, behind the screen, on my body. I
    touched the screen lightly with my finger tips.
     "Are you ready?" he asked.
     "No!" I said. I hastily,trembling, crouched down and
    sieized up the small bit of cloth I had placed at my feet. I
        moaned, inwardly. It was so light, tiny and short. it would be
        dismayingly revealing. Surely such garments are an insult to a
        woman, I thought, forcing her to show how beautiful she is,
        to anyone who might care to look upon her. I drew it over
        my head and pulled it down, desperately, about my body. It
        was a gray, beltless, one-piece garment of rep cloth, with
        inch-wide straps over the shoulders. Ltugged it down, at the
        hem, at the sides, trying to make it cover more of my thighs.
          "Are you ready?" he asked.
          "Yes,'.' I said, faltering.
          "Step forth," he said.
          I came forth, from about the edge of the screen.
          "Aiiii," he said, softly, to himself.
          This response pleased me.
          "Stand there," he said, indicating a place on the floor.
          I went to where he had indicated.
          "Now turn, slowly, and then face me," he said.-
          I did so.
          "Are my legs pretty?" I asked.
        "Yes," he said. "But your face and figure, as a whole, are
        also quite pretty."
          "You find my pleasing, then?" I asked.
        "Yes," he said. "Indeed, I had not supposed that the Tatrix
        of Corcyrus would prove to be such a beauty."
        "Surely, then," I smiled, "I would be worth at least a silver
        tarsk."
         "There are many beautiful women in the markets," he said.
         'You are untrained."
          Oooh," I said.
         "Come here," he said, "and remove my cloak. Then fold it,.
         and place it on the chest."
          I did so.
          "Now return to where you were, facing me."
          I did so.
        "The Tatrix of Corcyrus does not often remove cloaks for
        gentlemen," I informed him. I did not tell him, of course,
        how I had almost trembled being so near him, and how
        pleased I was to have performed this small service for him.
          He did not respond but continued to gaze upon me, as
         though studying me. My scanty garb, of course, I understood,  invited such scrutiny.
         "Few men," I said, "have looked upon the Tatrix of Cor-
         cyrus clad in this fashion."
      "Stand, straighter," he said.
     I did so.
     "Doubtless they would think of her somewhat differently, if
    they saw her clad like this," I said.
     "Or any woman," he said.
     "Of course," I said. I shuddered to think how men might
    think of women clad like this.
     "The garment," he said, "is perhaps too modest."
     "Too modest?" I asked.
     "Yes," he said, "but it will perhaps do. I tried to find a
    garment which would be both serviceable for our purposes
    and, at the same time, considerate, within the limitations of
    our project, of your modesty. That explains the neckline
    which does not plunge to your belly, revealin much of the
    beauty of your breasts, and the hemline, which is surely
    something less than slave short.
     I pulled down the sides of the garment. It seemed quite
    short to me.
     "It does not even have a nether closure," I said to him.
     "In that it is authentic," he said. "Such a closure, or the
    lines of a lower garment, affording such a closure, would be
    instantly detected by slaves."
     "I see," I said.
     `The slave, at any instant," he said, "is to be available to
    the master."
     "I see," I said.
     "Do you wish to continue with this project?" he asked.
     "Yes," I said.
    "I will. take you into the house as though you might be a
    ew girl or a fresh capture. This will explain why you are not
    t in a coflar. It will also make plausible your lack of a
    rand, should the matter arise. Your garment, incidentally, is
   ng enough to cover most common brand sites. That you are
    totally free woman, and not a slave, or a capture enroute to
    e collar, will be known to several members of the staff.
    ey will, accordingly, refrain from handling you as though
    u were such a slave or capture, for example, stripping you,
    rrying you through the halls with whips, and so on. Certain
    ther members of the staff will not know that you are free. I
   all take it upon myself to protect you from them. The pose
    a jealous captor should suffice. The slaves, of course, wiH
    ot know you are free. They will think you are merely a new
       either a slave or one who, optionless, will soon be
reduced to their status, one who wiU then be no more than
            they.
           "No one will know, even high members of the staff, Will
           they," I asked, "that I am actual.ly the Tatrix of Corcyrus."
           "No," he said. "They will know only that you are a free
           woman.'
             "Good," I said.
           "Come here," he said, pointing to a place before him. I
           went there and stood there, before him. It was not far from
           the couch, behind hirn. The couch was a large, square one,
           with, in its foot, the slave ring, an almost inevitable feature,
           it seemed, in Gorean domiciles. There was a small mat, and
           blanket, both rolled up, beneath the slave ring. They would
           doubtless be used there by a chained slave, if the master
           permitted it.
           I glanced about the room. It was spacious, well-lit, com-
           fortable and private. I wondered if free men and free women
           ever met in such places, for affairs. But then I glanced
            again at the slave ring. It seemed more likely that a man
            mightbring a slave here, perhaps one rented for the
            afternoon or
           evening. I looked at Drusus Rencius. How could a free
           woman, I thought, ever compete with a slave?
             "Drink this," said Drusus Rencius.
           What is it?" I asked, startled. It seemed be had produced
           this almost by magic. It was a soft, leather botalike flaski
           drawn from within his tunic.
             "Slave wine," he said.
            "Need I drink that?" I asked, apprehensively.
           "Unless you have had slave wine," he said, "I have no in-
           tention of taking you through the streets clad as you are.
           Suppose you are raped."
             I put the flask, which he had opened, to my lips. Its open-
           ing was large enough to drink freely from. "It is bitter!" I
           said, touching my lips to it.
           "It is the standard concentration, and dosage," be said,
           "plus a little more, for assurance. Its effect is indefinite, but
           it is normally renewed aimually, primarily for symbolic pur-
           poses.
             I could not believe how bitter it was. I had learned from
             Susan, whom I had once questioned on the matter, the 	             object. It is prepared from a derivative of sip root. The
             formula, too, I had learned, at the
           insistence of masters and slavers, had been improved by the
    caste of physicians within the last few years. It was now, for
    mo,st practical purposes, universally effective. Too, as Drusus
    Rencius bad mentioned, its effects, at least for most practical  A
    purposes, lasted indefinitely.
     "Have no fear," said Drusus Rencius. "Me abatement of
    its effects is.reliably achieved by the ingestion of a releaser."
     "Oh," I said. I knew this, of course. Susan had told me.
    When*a female slave is given the releaser she knows that she
    may soon expect to be hooded, and bred.
     "Could it not be sweetened?" I asked.
     "I have chosen that you drink it as it is," be said, "as it is
    normally drunk."
     "You would have the Tatrix of Corcyrus drink unsweetened
    slave wind?" I asked.
     "Shall we return to the palace?" he asked.
     "I will drink it," I said. I was a bit irritated with Drusus
    Rencius. Clad as I was before him, he had seemed to become
    much raore domineering, much more aggressive with me,
    than he had before. Something in me resented this, but I felt
    something else, something deeper within me, how deep I did
    not know, excited and deeply moved, responding to it.
     "'Do you wish help in drinking it?" he asked.
     "How could you help me drink it?" I asked, puzzled.
     "The female is put on her knees," he said. "The man
    crouches behind her. Her head and body are bent back. Her
    nostrils are pinched shut. The liquid is then poured into her
    mouth. Before she can breathe, she must swallow. In this way
    even a frightened or stubborn girl, early in her bondage,
    learns that she must, if her master wishes it, accept nourish-
    ment."
     "What if she keeps her mouth closed, her teeth clenchedT'
    I asked. "What if she chooses to expel the nourishment
    later?"
     "A mouth may be forced open," he said. "Too, it is diffi-
    rult to induce gagging if the hands are tied behind one."
     "I see," I said.
     "To be sure," he said, "this method, for its best results, re-
    quires two men. Do you wish help?"
     "No, thank you," I said. "I shall manage very nicely by
    myself."
     I then, grimacing, forcing myself, a little at a time, and
    then, desperately, tears in my eyes, hurrying, in great swal-
    lows, downed the foul beverage.
     "Very good," be said.
     I thrust the soft leather flask back to him. Gasping9 balf
    choking, I wiped my mouth with the back of my forearm.
     ~. "Go stand there," he said, pointing to a place near the
    door, "facing me."
     I went to where he had indicated and turned, then, facing
    him.
     He tossed the soft flask to the top of the chest, atop his
    cloak, which 1, earlier, bidden, had folded and placed there.
     "Why did you make me drink iinsweetcned slave wine?" I
    asked.
     "Stand straighter," he said.
     1 stood straighter.
     "Why did you make me drink unsweetened slave wine?" I
    asked.
     He looked me over, casually, not hurrying, from my head
    to my toes, and then, slowly, back.
     "It was fitting," he said.
     I gasped. The arrogance of himl
     "What do you have therel" I said.
     He had removed a pair of light bracelets, joined by about
    five inches of light chain, from his pouch.
     "Slave bracelets," be said. "Turn around, facing the door,
    your hands behind your back."
     Almost numbly I did so. I heard him approach me. Then
    he stood behind me, quietly, not moving. Perhaps be was
    looking at me. Then, suddenly, I felt the two bracelets flung
    about my wrists, striking them, encircling them and snapping
    shut.
     I was suddenly very frightened.
     I tried, tentatively, behind my back, to separate my bands.
    They could move only to the ends of their short chain.
     "You are braceleted," he said.
     I leaned against the door, terrified, almost fainting, using it
    for support. I was breathing deeply. My heart was pounding.
    I was braceletedl He was busying himself elsewhere in the
    room. I do not think he noted my condition.
     How helpless I felt, braceleted.
     In a moment he had returned to my vicinity, by the door. I
    now straightened my body. I was struggling to regain my
    composure.
     "You braceleted me easily," I observed, lightly.
     It, is not hard to bracelet a woman," he said.
     It had been done so casually, so expertly, with apparently
    so little thought. Too, it had seemed to me to happen very
    suddenly, very decisively. In one instant I was free, and in
    the next I was held helplessly, the prisoner of bands and a
    chain. I was still shaken, perhaps even visibly so, with the
    enormity, of what had been done to me. I had been made
    helpless.
     "Y6u have braceleted other women, haven't you?" I askedL
    He had done it so easily, so nonchalantly.
     "Yes," he said. I hatcd those other women. I tried again to
    separate my wrists. I could not do so, of course. How short,
    how strong, seemed the chain that held them in proximity to
    one another. Suddenly I felt very weak. 1, like the other
    womeh before me, perhaps women who were mere slaveas,
    wore the steel of Drusus Rencius.
     "We shall leave now," he said.
     "Yes, Master," I said. "Oh!" I said. "I did not mean thatt
    Forgive me! It slipped out. I did not mean it."
     "Do not worry about it," he said. "It is difficult for a
    woman clad as you are, and braceleted, not to think of a
    man as her master."
     "Thank you, Drusus," I said. "You are very kind. Such a
    mistake, as you might imagine, is very embarrassing."
     "Doubtless," he granted me, indulgently.
     I wondered what it would be like to be owned, and to have
    to call a man "Master." But, of course, owned, it would be
    quite suitable and proper for one to do so, for he would be,
    in fact, in such a situation, one's Master. My mind was rac-
    ing. How could it be that I had called Drusus Rencius "Mas-
    ter"? How inadvertently, how naturally, it had slipped out. I
    wondered if I were actually a proud, free woman, as I
    thought, or was something else, perhaps only a slave.
     "If Lady Sheila is ready," he said, "perhaps we should
    leave now."
     I put up my head.
     I reminded myself that I was not really, in a sense,
    braceleted. Oh, I wore the steel. It was locked on me, and
    well, but I was the Tatrix of Corcyrus. I could order Drusus
    Rencius to remove it from me at any moment I wished, and
    he would. Thus, in that sense, it was not truly on me. I did
    shudder, for a moment, at the thought of what it would be to
    be truly in such bonds, but then I hastily dismissed such fear-
    ful and unsettling thoughts from my mind.
     "Lady Sheila?" he asked.
          "Yes," I said. "Let us go."
         He then opened the door and, holding me by the left arm,
         conducted me from the room.
       "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, gener-
    ally, a little behind and on his left. It seemed appropriate that
    1, 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,,beeling 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 terri-
    bly 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 Ren-
    cius, 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 waR, hanging from an iron
    Orojection, 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. "'nat 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 lead-
    ing to the door. I regarded the iron door, apprehensively.
    "niere 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 f eet, 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, be-
    cause 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 be-
    hind 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 fasten-
    ings. It then swung open and we, the young man, Drusus
    Rencius and myself, were admitted to the corridor beyond.
    The guard'thcre refastened the door and then took his place
    on a stool behind a small table.
     "We nc'cd a pass and a license," said the young man to the
    guard.
     I looked at Drusus Rencius.
     '"T'he license is only a formality," be 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 fernale." I was a woman.
    Accordingly, I had to be licensed in the house of Kliomenes.
    How humiliatingl Ile 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 sbe 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-han~ded individuals being thus on the side of the ap-
    proaching stranger.
    	I saw some girls rummaging through a garbage can. They
    wore short tunics but they were not slaves. Goreans some-
    times refer to such women as "strays." They are civic
    nuisances. They are occasionally rounded up, guardsmen ap-
    pearing at opposite ends of an alley, trapping them, and col-
    lared.
    "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 hcr 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, des-
perate needs for attention, for affection and love were better
concealed even from herself, if possible, and certai~y, 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 ex-
pected 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, sfill 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 per-
spective. Then he moved to the end of the room, where he
might wait for her to approach. "Head lower," he said. "Bet-
ter, 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
baired 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 train-
ing exercise.
The whip cracked again and the girl, suddenly and lascivi-
ously, 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
[1ot 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 pole
ished 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 displeas-
ing 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 pay.
ing 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 mo
ment 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 li-
cense 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 wa~ a dancing chain. Its
purpose was not to confine the girl but to allow her to incor-
porate it in her dance, enhancing the dance with its move-
ments 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 owner-
ship. 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 watc,hed 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 mir-
rors. 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 pahns 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 soli
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 pleas-
ing! I will be pleasing!"
		I looked through the heavy bars of the cell, some three
inches in thickness, reinforced with  crosspieces, to the op-
posite wall. It was hard to see. There, kneeling on straw, try-
ing 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 sud
denly through the grating, had seized my ankle. Drusus Ren-
cius 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, particu-
larly 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 some-
times, 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. Mter 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. "Hermidonis!"
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 beau-
tiful 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 accouter-
ments 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 beeti in-
terspersed1 ~9t appropri.~te poilits, for example, l)y the cx
pression 'Master.' You ll~'ivc al~o referred to yourself a~
though you might sf111 be ~Deirdre..' Such falsificatious of
identity are not permitted to slaves. Deirdue 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, Master1" 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, sharp-
ly, 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 pleas-
ing. She was a slave. Of course she was being punished.
	Then Hermidorus, without further ado, took back his ac-
couterments 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 fe-
male 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 Diusus 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 pleas-
ing. 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 wotidered if he would have her sent to his rooms. The
decisioi' 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 prem-
ises." The tenth Ahn is the Gorean noon.
	"Splendid," said Drusus Rencius.
	We were then making our way upward fi~bm 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 incarcer-
ation 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 ap-
plication 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. Cer~
tain areas of the house, however, I was not shown, presum-
ably because I was a free woman, such as the lowest pens,
the branding chamber, the discipline room, and the rooms
148	John Norman
where girls were taught to kiss and caress, and the move-
ments of love.
		"I will be good! I will be good!" T 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 confin~s. Indeed, in the half-
darkness of the lampAit passage I had hardly noticed the boL
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 Her-
midorus. "Her house name is Didi. She is, as I recall, a nor-
mal-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
smlled, 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 conduct-
ed 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 Pub-
lius, 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 embar-
rassingly evident to him. I hoped that my need was not some-
how evident, subtly so, in my appearance and behavior,
1P~e.rhaPs 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 be-
fore men.
	"Are you sure she is free?" asked Publius.
	"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
	"Interesting," said Publius. He t1'cn 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         rightiess, 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, strn 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 Ly-
sias. This exicted 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
hich I had been encouraged to espouse and exemplify, and,
leased on Gor, welling up from deeply within me, from
iat sources I could scarcely dare conjecture, alarming me,
concerting me, almost overpowering feelings of helpless-
ness, 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 Ku-
enes. I wished I had never known how beautiful they
_e, and how they were dominated by men, and must obey!
~ished that I bad 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
rwhelmingly moved by having seen slaves, and thlilled to
re been permitted, even on a ilcense, 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
Baked myself. "How do you know that you are different from
those other girls? How do you know that you are not, as Pub-
lius 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 a~
other, 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 thoLight thrilled me, and
terrified me.
	Why had Drusus Rencitis not freed me from the bracelets!
We were not now in the house of KIjomenes!
	"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, irre'
sistibly, 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',  C
their will on us? Could they not see what we wanted, what
we needed? Were they so inattentive and insensitive? Wero
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 un~  te
til 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 b~
come 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, help-
lessly, 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, con
tinuing 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
mbarrassed 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 ~ans.
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.
		1 was trembling. I was sure that in another moment or two I, utterly helpless, might have beelf 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.
1 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, in- tensely.
"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 Argenturn. 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 hirn 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.

I stood by the barred window in my quarters, looking out. 1could see portions of the courtyard below, sections of the inner walls and the first of the two gates leading to the outside. I could also see, back from the walls, a portion of the square outside the gates. Most of the crowd outside the gates I could not see. I could see some men and women moving across the square, presumably to join it. It was the second rach crowd in the past week. I saw some men, across the square, perhaps seeing someone in my window, stop, and shake their fists. I moved away from the window.
"Mistress!" cried Susan, entering with a tray, stopping suddenly, spilling wine. She looked at me, with the sudden terror of a slave who had been clumsy. "Forgive me, Mistressl" she cried. "I will clean it up immediatelyt"
I watched her while she put down the tray, picked up the goblet, and hurried to fetch cloths and water. In a moment she was on her hands and knees, frightened, cleaning the floor. I myself, of course, a woman of wealth and position, a Tatrix even, was above such tasks. They were properly to be performed by lesser women. Ideally, of course, they fell to those women for whoin they were perfectly
suited, slaves.
"Susan," I said.
		"Yes, Mistress," she said, looking up from her hands and knees, frightened.
"Why did you spill the wine?" I asked.
"I am sorry, Mistressl" she said.
"Why did you spill it?" I asked. She had seemed surprised.
		"I was startled, Mistress," she said. "I had not expected to find you here. I had thought that I bad seen you in an anteroom off the great hall, only some Ehn earfier."
"You were mistaken," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"There is another crowd outside the gate this evening," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.
"It is an angry crowd again,is it not?" I asked.
"I fear so, Mistress," said the girl.
		I went to the barred window, and looked out. I could hear the crowd but, because of the walls and gates, could see very little of it.
"I think guardsmen will soon issue forth to disperse it" said Susan.
		"'Can you make out what they are shouting, what they want?" I asked, lightly.
"No, Mistress," said Susan, putting down her head.
		"I can make it out quite clearly, from the window," I said irritably.
"Forgive me, Mistress," said Susan.
"Speak," I said.
"They call for the blood of the Tatrix of Corcyrus," she said,
"whom they call tyranness and villainess of Corcyrus."
"But, why?" I asked. "Why?"
"I do not know, Mistress," said Susan. "There are scarcities
In the city. They may be angry about the progress of the War!
"But the war goes well," I said.
"Yes, Mistress," said Susan, putting her head down.
		There was then a heavy knock at the door. "Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus," announced a voice, that of a guard.
"Enter," I said.
		The door opened and Ligurious, with his imposing stature, yet leonine grace, entered. He bowed to me, and I inclined my bead to him.
		At his entrance Susan put the palms of her hands on the floor and lowered her head to the tiles, assuming a position of slave obeisance common with her in the presence of her master. I wondered if Ligurious's slave master required this position of all of his women. I supposed so.
		Ligurious looked down at her, irritably. It was clear what she had been doing.
"Was it she who spilled the wine?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
		"If you do not wish to exert yourself," he said, "I can have her whipped for you."
		"It is all right," I said. "She is only a stupid, meaningless slave.
"Run along, Susan," I said. "You can finish later."
"Yes, Mistress," said Susan, leaping up, darting away.
		"Tonight," said Ligurious, "I will give her to guardsmen. She will dance the whip dance, naked." There are many whip dances on Gor, of various sorts. In a context of this sort, presumably not in a tavern, and without music, the girl is expected to move, writhe and twist seductively before strong men. If she does not do well enough, if she is insufficiently naddeningly sensuous, the whips fall not about her, but on her. When one of the men can stand it no longer be orders her to his mat where, of course, she must be fully pleasing. If he is not, then she
is whipped until she is. Then, when one man is satisfied, the dance
begins again, and continues in this fashion until all are satisfied, or tire of the sport.
"How goes the war?" I said.
	"I have come to report another glorious victory," said Liarious.
"This one has occurred on the Plains of Eteocles."
"ne enemy, then," I said, "is east of the Hills of Eteocles,
id is through the Pass of Theseus."
"You have been examining maps?" inquired Ligurious.
		"I made inquiries," I said. He saw I could not read. I was illiterate in Gorean.
"I see," he, said.
		I heard men shouting, and the rattle of weaponry outside, down in the courtyard.
I hurried to the barred window.,
		"Those will be guardsmen," said Ligurious, "issuing forth to disperse the rabble."
		"Yes," I said. I could see a double line of guardsmen, with shields and spears, exiting through the gates. In a moment, too, I could see men and woman fleeing across the square.
		"Those are small groups of dissidents," said Ligurious. "Pay them no mind. You are loved in Corcyrus."
		"Each of our victories," I said, "seems to occur closer to Corcyrus."
		"Surely you saw the silver brought in from Argentum?" he asked.
		"Yes," I said. "It was prominently displayed in the victory parade several weeks ago, that over which we presided."
"Over which you presided, my Tatrix," said he, modestly.
"Yes," I said.
I recalled this parade well. Ligurious had been in the
palanquin with me. He had been, in his force and presence,  both visible and prominent. 1, as earlier, apparently in accord with the public customs of Corcyrus, had been unveiled. My features, it seemed, would be well known to thousands.
"It seems little more silver has been forthcoming," I said.
Ligurious was silent.
"Did your troops enter Argenturn?" I asked. 	A
		"Our generals did not feet it was necessary," said Ligurious
"It seems that our first victory, after the seizure of the mines,
occurred on the Fields of Hesius," I said.
"Yes," said Ligurious.
		"Our second occurred on the shores of Lake las," I said, "and our third east of the Issus." This was a northwestwardflowing river, tributary to the Vosk, far to the north.
"Yes, my Tatrix," said Ligurious.
		"Now we have been victorious once more," I said, "this time on the
Plains of Eteocles."
"Yes, my Tatrix," said Ligurious.
"They lie within a hundred pasangs of Corcyrus," I said.
		"It is part of a plan, my Tatrix," said Ligurious. "We are stretching
their supply lines. Then, when we wish, soon, now, we will strike like a
tam, cutting them. We will then subject a starving, demoralized enemy
to devastating attacks. * Have no fear, Lady. They will soon be
helpless. We will soon have them beneath our swords."
"Are there scarcities in the city?" I asked.
		"There are none in the palace," said Ligurious. "Did Lady 'Sheila
enjoy her spiced vulo this evening?"
"In the city?" I said.
		"In a time of conflict," said Ligurious, "there are always some
privations."
"Are they minor?" I asked.
		"Yes," he said. "With your permission," he said. He then bowed, and withdrew.
I watched him withdraw. I wondered what it would be like to have
to do obeisance to such a man, and what it would be like to be in his arms.
		I then turned again to the barred window. From where I stood, sometimes, I could see tarn wire, as the light struck it, in its swaying movements. It was strung about, over the courtyard, between the palace and the walls. Too, it had been strung elsewhere, I had heard, in the city.
		The door opened and Susan entered, and knelt down and lowered her head. It is common for slaves to kneel when entering the presence of free persons. It is common, too, of course, more generally, for them to kneel whenever they find themselves in the presence of a free person, for example, if they are in a room and a free person enters.
"You may finish your work," I informed the slave, from
Cincinnati, Ohio.
	"Yes, Mistress. 'nank you, Mistress," said the girl. In a moment, then, she was again, on her hands and knees, with water and cloths, her bead down, rinsing and cleaning the files, thoroughly and carefully
removing the residue of sticky, half-dried wine from them.
"Susan," I said.
"Mistress?" she asked, raising her head.
"Did Ligurious speak to you?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"You know that tonight you are to- to dancer,
		"Yes, Mistress," she said. "Before selected guardsmen. The whip dance."
		"It was not my idea, Susan," I said. "I did not ask Ligurlous to have you punished. It was his idea. I want, you to know that. I am sorry."
		"It had not even occurred to me that it might have been your idea, Mistress," smiled Susan. "You did not even want me punished. Mistress has always shown me incredible lemence. Mistress has always shown me incredible kindness. It is almost as if---'
"Yes?" I said.
		"--almost as if Mistress has some idea of the helplessness and vulnerability of the slave."
		"And how," I asked angrily, "would I, a free woman, have any idea of that?"
		"Forgive me, Mistress," said Susan. "Of course you, as a free woman, could not!" I was angry. I considered whipping the little,
collared slut. She put her head down, quickly, and continued her work, menial work, work suitable for such as she, a slave.
"Susan," I said.
"Yes, Mistress?" she asked.
"Is it hard to learn the whip dance?" I asked.
		"I am not a dancer, Mistress," said Susan, "nor are most who perform the dance. It is not even, really, a dance. One simply has one's clothes taken away, and then one moves before strong, powerful men as such men would have a woman move before them. Then when one is sufficiently pleased, he indicates this and you serve his pleasure."
"How do you know what to do?" I asked.
		"Sometimes one tries different things," she said, "for example, about or on the furniture, on the floor, about their bodies, at their feet, on your back, on your belly, hoping to find something that they will respond to. Sometimes they give you explicit instructions or commands, as when a woman is put through slave paces. Sometimes they guide you, or help you, sometimes by the whip, sometimes by expressions or cries. At other times the girl listens, so to speak, to the slave fires in her belly, and seems to become one with them and the dance, and then, soon, must beg the brutes, in her dance, and by her piteous expressions and gestures, to relieve the merciless tensions in her body, allowing her to
complete the cruel cycle of arousal, allowing her to receive them and submit to them, the masters, in the spasmodic surrender of the
helpless slave."
		"But the whip," I said. "Do you not fear it?"
		"I fear it," she said. "But I do not think I will feel it."
		"Why?" I asked.
		Susan suddenly looked me directly in the eye. "I dance
	well," she said.
		I turned away from her. When I looked at her again, she
	had finished her work.
		"Will Mistress be needing me further for this evening?" she asked.
		I looked at Susan.
		How chaste, how modest, how demure she seemed in        her brief tunic, and collar, with her lovely face and beautiful
	little figure, How dainty, how exquisitel How deferential,
	how shyl Surely she was a woman's slave, and only that, at-
	tentive, knowledgeable, efficient, respectful and selfeffacing.
		But a man such as Ligurious had bought her naked off
                    a slave block in Cos.
		What a sweet, bashful girl she was.
		But tonight she would dance naked for guardsmen.
		"Mistress?" asked Susan.
		"You do not seem distressed that tonight you will dance," I observed. Indeed, it seemed she might be looking forward to it.
		"No, Mistress'," she said.
		"Why?" I asked.
		"Must I speak?" she asked.
		"Yes," I said.
		"I love men, and wish to serve them, fully," she said.
		"Lewd and shameless slut!" I cried.
		"I arn a slave," she said. "Forgive me, Mistress. Too, I
	have not been given to a man in eleven days. My fingernails
	are bloody from scratching at the tiles in my kennel."
		I shuddered.1 had not thought much about where slave
	girls might be kept at night. To be sure, I knew that they
	were not wandering freely about the palace. Now, it seemed,
	that some, at least, might be locked in kennels. This made
	sense, of course, considering that, like the shameless, little
	slut, Susan, they were animals.
		"It does not seem that the whip dance, truly, would be
	nuch of a punishment for you," I said.
		"Ligurious has several women," she said. "He does not know me that well. He has had me Prily a few times, and, I have improved my skills, considerably, since then."
		"He thinks, then, that it will be a terrible punishment for you?" I asked.
		"I would suppose so," she said. "Doubtless he expects that I will be muchly lashed."
		"What is it like to be In the arms,of a man such as Ligunous?" I asked, as though not much interested, really.
		"He devastates a woman," she said, "turning her into a tormented, whimpering animal, and then he makes her yield to him, fully, and as a slave."
"Did you spill the wine on purpose?" I asked.
		"No, Mistress," she laughed. "I did not know that Ligurious was coming to your quarters. It occurred before his arrival. Too, I know you would not be so cruel as to assign me to the whip dance. Too, the common punishment for such a clumsiness is not the uncompromising,
degrading severity of the whip dance but disciplines more prosaic in their nature, such as a restriction or change in rations, close chains or, most often, a switching or whipping."
"I see," I said.
		I wondered what Susan would look like, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat, twistingand writhing before men, pleasing them as a naked slave,  theirs then to be exploited and used however they might wish. She seemed such an ideal woman's slave, such an efficient, bashful, modest girl, it was  hard
to imagine her in such a context. But she had told me that her fingernails were bloody from scratching at the tiles in her kennel. It seemed then that  quiet, sweet, withdrawn, retiring: Susan actually bad sexual needs and powerful ones. These needs,
too, presumably, given her appearance and curvatures, bespeaking a richness in fernale hormones, would be deeply feminine ones. I
wondered in bow many girls like Susan there might lie a pleasure slave, waiting to be uncaged and commanded.
"I dance well," she had told me.
		How startled I had been when she had said that. I bad turned away.
She had looked into my eyes, in that instant, not as a slave into the eyes of a free woman, but as one woman into the eyes of another. I had felt then, in that instant, that we were both, ultimately, only women, that we were identical in our femaleness', that we were united in the bonds of a common sisterhood and what, in relationship to men, it entailed. We were both, ultimately, only women; we were both, ultimately, though I was free and she was a slave, representatives of the slave sex.
		I wondered if 1, too, could dance well. I knew that if I did not, I would be lashed.
		"I will have no further need for you tonight, Susan," I said. "I think that you should soon report to your masters of the evening."
"Yes, Mistress," she said. "Thank you, Mistress." Susan," I said.
"Yes, Mistress?" she said.
"Is there unrest in the city?"
		"I do not know, Mistress," she said. "I am seldom outside the grounds of the palace."
I had resolved upon a bold plan.
		"Before it: report to your temporary masters," I said, "inform Drusus Rencius that I wish to see him. He is to report to my quarters within the Ahn."
"'Yes, Mirtress," she said.
		"It will not be necessary to inform Ligurious of this action on your part," I said.
"As Mistress wishes," she said.
		"It is my recommendation, " I said, "that in reporting to your temporary masters you are a little late, but just late enough to increase their eagerness, not late enough that you are lashed for tardiness."
		"Yes, Mistress," smiled Susan. "Thank you, Mistressf" She then sped from the room.
		I then went again to the barred window, and looked out, over the city.
		I myself had been outside of the palace grounds only infrequently in weeks, since my visit to the house of Kliomenes. I had been out, of course, in the grand victory parade, staged shortly after the seizure of the mines.
		I then turned away from the window. I would now await the arrival of Drusus Rencius. I had seen him privately scarcely at all since the house of Khomenes and the inn of Lysias. Our relationship was totally professional. Twice he had requested to be relieved of his duties, to be assigned to a new post, but I had refused to grant this request. That he might be restless, tortured or bitter in my presence meant nothing to me. I was a Tatrix. He was a soldier. He would obey me. I considered his apparent discomfort in my presence. smiled. It pleased me. Let him suffer.


		Through the darkened street, along the crooked way, Drusus Rencius and I were making our way back to the palace. He carried a torch. The smaller streets of Gorean cities are often dark at night. The pedestrians carry their own light.
		"I would prefer,"'said Drusus Rencius, "that we had kept to the main thorough fares."
		I wished to speak to citizens in lesser known districts, as well," I said.
"Is Lady Sheila satisfied?" he asked.
		"Yes," -I said, "on the whole, though the people often seemed reticent, or frightened."
 "are troubled," said Drusus Rencius.
		I had stopped many passersby, particularly in the larger streets, making inquiries. I had even stopped in some of the more respectable taverns, those in which free wornen, without difficulty, might enter. The people seemed enthusiastically appreciative of the governance of the Tatrix and made light of shortages. They discounted and belittled rumors of discontentment or unrest in Corcyrus. Things in Corcyrus, it seemed, were much as Ligurious had assured me. The people were
supportive of the policies of the palace, loyal to the state and
personally devoted to their beloved Tatrix.
"Many of the shops," I said, "'are boarded up."
		"Many merchants have left the city," said Drusus Rencius, "taking their goods with them."
"Why?" I asked.
		"They are afraid," he said. "The Street of Coins is almost closed."
This was actually a set of streets, or district, where money changing and banking were done. "ere are other types of establishments in the area, too, of course. "'Private citizens, too, many of them," said Drusus
Rencius, "their goods on their back, have taken their leave of the city."
		"Craven rabble," I said. "Why can they not be brave Re the others?"
		"Waitl" said Drusus Rencius, stopping. He lifted the torch, which he carried in his left hand, increasing the range of its illumination, and put out his right band, holding me back, a barrier to my advance.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I heard something," he said. "Stay back."
		I stepped back. The sword of Drusus Rencius left its sheath. I now understood why he, though right-handed, had been carrying the torch in his left hand. It facilitated an immediate draw.

"I do not hear anything," I said.
"Be quiet," he said.
		I suddenly saw, emerging from the darkness, three shapes. 'Tal, Soldier," said one of them.
		"I'al," said Drusus Rencius. He backed against a wall. I stood very near him, frightened.
		"We are lost," said one of the shapes, ingratiatingly. He drew a sheet of paper from within his tunic. "I have directions here, on a sheet
of paper. You have a torch."
"Do not approach," said Drusus Rencius.
		The fellow smiled and, slowly, in his fingers, wadded up the sheet of paper, and dropped it to the street.
Three swords then left their sheaths.
"Give us the woman," said the man.
"No," said Drusus Rencius.
		I suddenly cried out, seized from the side, and I saw Drusus Rencius, the torch flung to the side, lunge toward the man who had been in the center of the first two. One man, one of two who had been approaching us from the side, threw me back against a wall. I could not move because of his presence. My veil, not even unpinned, was. wadded and thrust back, deeply in my mouth. I heard swords clashing.
I was turned to the side and my robes of concealment were
pulled forward and down, over my head. A narrow strap was then
slung about my head and pulled back, deeply between my teeth, and tied tightly behind the back of my neck. This secured the entire arrangement. I then, in my own garments, had been effectively gagged and hooded. I was then turned to the wall and my hands were jerked behind my back. In a inoment, with two or three loops of cord, they were fastened in place. I then felt myself lifted to the shoulder of a
man. I was utterly helpless. I heard another sword, quite near me,
sliding from its sheath. "Runl" I heard a man cry. I was flung then from his shoulder, striking my own shoulder against a wall, and sliding down to the street. I heard feet running away.
"They are gone," I heard Drusus Rencius say.
		I whimpered as loudly as I could. Only such tiny, piteous noises were permitted me by the gag.
		I felt a hand on my shoulder. "There you are," said Drusus Rencius.
		I heard a sword laid on the stones behind me. Then, feeling about my head, Drusus Rencius undid the strap that beld my gag and  hood in place. The fresh air f elt good on my face. I could hardly see him, but inches from me. The torch had gone out. He, in the darkness, adjusted my veil.
"Are you all right?" heasked.
"Yes," I said. "Who were they?"
		"Probably slavers," he said. "I do not know. They are gone now."
"Slavers?" I whispered, in horror.
		"Probably," he said. "It was you they were interested in. They did not appear to be young ruffians out for an evening's sport. Too, they seem to have handled you with an efficiency that comes with training and practice."
I was then silent, trembling.
"They are gone now," said Drusus Rencius.
"My hands are tied," I whimpered.
		"Forgive me," be said. He then, after a moment, bad freed my wrists. He then picked up his blade. He then rose to his feet. I was on my knees, then, before him. I held him about the legs, and put my face
against his leg. I was terrified from what had occurred. I was still
trembling.
		"Get up," he said, angrily. "Your behavior seems too much like that of a woman."
"I am a woman," I said.
"No," he said. "You are a Tatrix."
I sobbed.
"Get up," he said.
"I could have been carried into slavery," I said, frightened,
holding him.
		"You torturing slut," he snarled, suddenly, "I am tempted to putchains on you myself."
		"Are you so attracted to me, Drusus?" I said, startled. "So attractedto me that you would be satisfied with nothing less than my total submission?"
"Torturing slut!" he said. "Get up!"
"You do desire me!" I said. "You desire me with the most
powerful desire with which a man can desire a woman, that he own her completely, that she be his total slave!"
"I hate you, and despise you!" he said.
"And want me!" I said.
		"Let us return to the palace," he said, "before I leave you here in the darkness, a prey to those who, more than 1, would see to it that you get what you deserve."
		"And what is it that I deserve, Drusus," I asked, at his feet.
"A marked thigh," he said, angrily, "and a colar-encircled
neck.
"Do you think that I am a slave? I cried.
"You would make an ideal slave," he said.
"Insolence!" I cried.
"Truth," he said.
I cried out in rage.
"But you are not a slave," he said. "Get up."
		"It is fortunate for me that I am not a slave, isn't it," I asked, "at the eet of a man such as you?"
"Yes," he said, "it is very fortunate for you."
		"And what would you do with me," I asked, "if you did own me?'
"Give me your hands," I said.
He then helped me up.
		I smoothed my robes. "It is interesting to know that you desire me," I said
He was silent.
		"Indeed," I said, "it is quite amusing. Perhaps I should have you whipped for insolence. Do not. aspire above your
station, Drusus. I am a Tatrix. You are nothing, only a guard."
"Yes, Tatrix," he said.
		"I hold you in contempt," I said. "I scorn you. I am worlds above you."
"Yes, Tatrix," he said.
"And do not forget it," I said.
"No, Tatrix," he said.
		"What are you doing?" I asked. I had seen his arm move, with the blade.
"I am cleaning the blade, wiping it on my tunic," he said.,
"Cleaning it?" I asked.
"In driving the men off, I wounded two of them," lie said.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
		"Yes," he said. I resisted an impulse to kneel before him, begging to lick the blood from the blade, begging him then to dry it in my hair.
"Is it clean?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
		"Do not sheathe it until we reach the palace," I said. "The streets are dark."
"I have no intention of doing so," he said.
		"At least," I said, "I have satisfied myself as to the condi. tion of the citizenry and the status of the city."
"How is that?" he asked.
		"'You heard, surely," I said. "The people make light of privations.  They are loyal. They are devoted to their Tatrix."
		"Such are the answers to be given.to such questions in Corcyrus," he said.
"I do not understand," I said.
		"The people are afraid," he said. "You have inspired terror. Your rule is one of iron."
"I do not understand," I said.
		"Fool, your spies are everywhere," he said. "The people to whom you spoke probably mistook you, ironically enough, for one of your own spies."
"I have no spies," I said.
		"I can name seven," said Drusus Rencius. "How many you have, of course, I do not know."
		I shuddered, confused. These spies, if, indeed, there were any, must be reporting to someone else, perhaps to Ligurious.
"Will we light the torch on the way home?" I asked.
		"I think it will be safer to move silently in the darkness," said
Drusus Rencius.
"Perhaps you are right," I said, shuddering.
		"Please follow me, a bit behind," said Drusus Rencius. "I mean this as no insult to you."
		"I understand," I said. I certainly had no objections, under the circumstace, to heeling him like a slave.
"Are you coming?" he asked. He turned about.
"It is so dark," I said.
		"I do not think it will be safe to remain here," he said. "Try to follow me."
"I am afraid," 1 said. I could not see my footing.
"Do you wish for me to carry you7" he asked.
"And how would you do that?" I asked, apprehensively.
		"In my arms, with honor," he said. "Did you think I would throw you over my shoulder like a bound slave7"
		I was silent. How did I know how Drusus Rencius would carry a woman, particularly a woman such as I sensed I might be. I did know how the other fellow had carried me, over his shoulder, bound, absolutely helpless, perhaps, indeed, like a slave.
		"It would be better for you to walk," said Drusus Rencius. "In that fashion my sword arm would be unencumbered."
		"Are these streets not supposed to be patrolled by guardsmen?" I asked.
		"Most of the guardsmen," said Drusus Rencius, "have been sent to the west, to the front."
I was silent.
		"The forces of Ar will be difficult to hold," said Drusus Rencius.
"Of Ar!" I said.
		"Yes," said Drusus Rencius. "Forces of Ar entered the fray after the seizure of the mines. Argentum, as you know, is an :ally of Ar."
		I had not known this, basic though it might be. Many things, it seemed, bad not been made clear to me. I did know that we were supposed to have strong ties of one sort or another with the island ubarate of Cos. Susan, I knew, had been bought in Cos. I knew almost nothing of Ar. I did know that Drusus Rencius had once been of that city. Too, I knew it was one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, City on Gor. In known Gor, it was rivaled only by Turia, in Gor's southern hemisphere.
"Our forces will be victorious," I assured Drusus Rencius.
		"The enemy is already within t*enty pasangs of Corcyrus, be said.
"Take me back to the palace," I said, "swiftly, please."
"Yes, Lady Sheila," he said.
		He then turned about, and started off, through the darkness. I hurried along behind him, heeling him like a slave.
I felt miserable, and terrified and sick In the palace I would be safe.

		I was thrust into my quarters by a guard, and the door was shut behind me.
A lamp was lit in the room. I heard whimpering.
"Susanl" I cried.
		The girl lay on her belly, naked on the tiles. Even the silken collar sheath, of one color or another, which was usu-ally worn, selected to match a tunic, was gone. Her neck was encircled by the bared, unadorned steel alone. She had been terribly whipped. I knelt beside the, girl. "The brutesl" I cried, softly. I touched her hair, gently. Tonight I knew she had danced the whip dance.
"This was not done to me by guardsmen, Mistress," she said. Then
she began to sob.
"By whom, then?" I demanded.
		"It was done to me by the slave master of Ligurious, on the orders of Ligurious," she said.
"But, why?" I asked.
		"Because I did not inform Ligurious that you had had Drusus Rencius summoned tonight to your quarters."
"How did he learn of this?" I asked.
		"Doubtless from a guard, and, too, that you had left the palace," she said.
		"I am sorry, Susan," I said. It had been 1, 1 recalled, in theprosecution of my own plans, and in my desire for secrecy, who hadsuggested to Susan that the summoning of Drusus Rencius to my quarters need not be made known to Ligurious.
"Why have you been put here?" I asked.
"That you may see me, Mistress," she sobbed.
"It is all my fault," I said.
		"No, Mistress," she said. "It is my fault. I was not pleasing to my master."
		Ligurious apparently bad been disturbed, particularly that I had leftthe palace. He, with guardsmen, with lanterns, had met Drusus Rencius and I at the small postern gate in the east wall of the palace grounds, that through which we had returned. Drusus Rencius had been detained there, and I had been hurried to my quarters.
		There were suddenly two blows on the door, loud knocks. "Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus," announced a guard, from the other side of the door.
		I stood up, and went to the center of the room. I tried to stand very straight, very regally.
"Enter," I said.
Ligurious tntered.
		Susan, frightened, with an effort that must have been painful for her striped body, knelt, with her head down to the tiles, the palms of her hands on the floor, in that form of obeisance apparently required by Ligurious of his women.
"To your kennel, Slave," said Ligurious.
Susan lifted her head. "Yes, Master!" she said.
"Get out, Slut!" be said.
		"Yes, Masterl" she cried, and, springing to her feet, fled from theroom.
"You are up late," observed Ligurious.
"I was in the city," I said, defiantly.
		"It can be dangerous' in the city," he said, "especially in these times, and at night."
		I tossed my bead. He need not know what bad happened on thedarkened street.
		"You must understand," he said, "that I have a responsibility for your safety."
		"It was not necessary that you treated Susan as you did," I said.
		"Do not attempt to interfere in the relationship between a man and his slave," he said. "That relationship is absolute."
		"I see," I said. I stepped back, frightened.
		"In the future," he said, "you are not to leave the palace
	without my permission. In the meantime, you wilt remain
	here, confined to your quarters."
		"Not" I cried.
		"Remove your veil," he said, "and your outer robes, and
	slippers."
		Frightened, I did so. I then stood before him in a long,
	off-the-shoulder, yellow, silken sliplike garment.
		"You now stand before a man, Lady Sheila," he said, "as barefoot as a slave."
		"I shall call the guardsl" I cried.
		"And whom do you think they will obey?" be asked.
		"I will call Drusus Rencius!" I cried.
		"He has been relieved of his duties," said Ligurious. "He is no longer your guard."
		"Oh," I said.
		"And he seems pleased to be done with you."
		"Oh," I said. Now I could no longer torture Drusus, with my nearness and inaccessibility.
		"And I cannot say that I blame him," Wd Ligurious. "For you seem to be a frigid little slut."
		"Slut!" I cried.
		"Do not form an over-exalted opinion of yourself," he
	said. "You are only a slut from Earth and no better than a
	female slave."
		I looked at him with horror. He stepped toward me, and
	shrank back. Then I whimpered as I felt his strong hands
	grasp me by the upper arms. He looked down into my eyes.
	"Displease me in the least," he said, "and I will put a brand
	in your hide and a collar on your neck. Do you understand?"
		I could not begin to free myself of his grasp. "Yes," I said.
	"Yes!" I was terrified.
		He did not release me. He continued to look down into my eyes. He seemed to me terribly strong and large.
		"I wonder if I should subject you to rape discipline," he mused.
		"No," I said. "Please, no." But I felt heat between my legs, and weakness and helplessness. I knew that my body was lubricating itself, preparing to receive him, if he should choose to have me.
		"You are so much like her," he said, looking down into my eyes. "Who?" I asked.
		"One who makes me weak," he smiled, "one with whom I am smitten."
"I am only a barbarian," I said.
		"She, too, is a barbarian," he said, "like yourself a barbarian beauty."
"Who is she?" I asked.
		"You do not know her," be said. Then he removed his hands from me. "In character, of course, you are quite different. She is superior, lofty, noble, regal and fine. Girls like you, on the other hand, can be found in any market. Too, I think she is probably even more beautiful than you, though the resemblance is truly striking. And in intellect, in brilliance and decisiveness, of course, there is no comparison."
		"Perhaps she should be Tatrix of Corcyrus, and not I," I said, angrily.
"Perhaps," be smiled.
		I turned away from him. "I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus, am I not?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
		"You know that I am from Earth," I said. "How is it that I was brought here, to be Tatrix?"
		"We wished to go outside the city," he said, "to find one from the outside, free of all connections and factions, to rule over us with wisdom and objectivity."
"I see," I said. "Then I am truly the Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"Of course," he said.
		"How is it, then," I asked, "that I have been treated with rudeness, that even now I am barefoot in your presence?" I did not, of course, make an effort to put my slippers back on. I did not know if he would permit it. He had, of course, ordered me to remove them.
		"You are useful," be said, "and you have your purposes. You are not, however, indispensable. It would be well for you o remember that. It might encourage you to be more coopertive."
		"I suppose," I said, "I should be pleased that you did not order me to
strip completely and krjeel before you."
"You are, of course," he said, "a free woman."
		"Yet it seems," I said, "if only implicitly, you have threatened me."
		"Suitable disciplines and punishments may be arranged for a free
woman," he said, "suitable to her status and dignity."
"I am sure of it," I said, ironically.
		He then approached me, and stood quite close to me. I was facing
away from him.
		"And yet," he said, "I sens6 that such disciplines and punishments,
those suitable for free women, would not be suitable for you."
		"And what sorts of disciplines and punishments would be suitable
for me?" I asked.
		He held me from behind, by the arms. I was helpless. "Such that
would be appropriate for slaves," he said.
I stiffened, but I could not free myself.
		"You are so different from her," he said. I felt his breath on the left
side of my neck. "Your dispositions, your responses, the way you carry
yourself, the way you move, how you speak." I felt weak. "I sense," he
said, "wherein your deepest fulfillments would lie. I sense what it is that
you need and want, what it is that without it you will never achieve
your most perfect and complete self."
"What?" I asked.
"The collar," he said.
"Nol" I cried.
		"Fight it and deny it, if you will," he said. "Have your sport. But it is
true."
"No," I wept.
		"Consider your incredible femininity," he said. "You have the curves,
the softness, the instincts, the helplessness of the slave."
		"Nol" I said. "I will try to be less feminine, and thus more of a
womanl"
		"Words from the insane asylums on Earth," he laughed. "Tbis is Gor.
It is fortunate you are not a slave, or your true womanhood, the
marvelous softness and depth of your femininity, revealed and
manifested, would in all its fullness be
required of you, and without compromise, even to the whip, by
masters."
He then put his right hand in my hair and held my left
wrist in his left hand. He drew my head back, painfully, untu
even my back was bent backwards.
	"It is interesting," he said, "how different she is from you.
Yet, too, you seem in many ways so similar." I whimpered,
helplessly held. "Do you know that women such as you are
born to the chain?" he asked.
	"No," I said, strained. No
	"Yes," he said, "and you will not be complete until it is on
you.
	I whimpered helplessly. Why did he not drag me to the bed
and take me?
	I understood then what true womanhood was. It was not
the denial and frustration of femininity but the full surrender
to it, being true to, and honest to, my deepest nature and
needs. Femininity was not incompatible with womanhood. It
was its expression.
	What insanities, what perversions, what sickness, I had been
taught on Earthl
	"Ah, forgive me, Lady Sheila," said Ligurious, as though
concerned. "I almost forget, holding you in this fashion, that
you are a free woman."
	He then released me.
	I straightened up, and, turning about, pulled away from
him, as though I had managed to free myself.	V
	Ligurious bowed to me, from the waist, as though in deep
apology. But bo was smiling.
	I was horrified. I realized then that I must fight my femi-
ninity. I had learned, of cour~e, that in doing this, far from
expressing womanhood, I was frustrating and denying it, but
that, in my terror, was what I then wished to do. I then, terri-
bly, feared my womanhood, and that to which it might lead.
I thus, then, decided that my femininity, and thereby my
womanhood, must be denied and fought. I could no longer be
so simple as to pretend to myself that my womanhood was
best served by its own frustration, suppression and denial. I
was no longer victimized by that propagandistic stupidity.
The danger, I now understood clearly, was womanhood itself.
Openly, honestly, must it be repudiated and denied. That was
what was most to be feared, that was the great danger to
women, their own womanhood, that which was what they
were, in their deepest heart and belly. I was afraid to look
deeply into myself. I was afraid of what I might find there.
	"I am a free woman," I said. "I am free! I am freel"
176 	John Norman
"Of course* you are," he said.
"I am now going to put on my sVppers," I said.
"Have you received permission to do so?" he asked.
I looked at him, frightened.
"You may do so," be said.
		I slipped inio the slippers. I then felt more secure. There is something about being barefoot before a man who is shod that tends
to make a woman feel more like a slave before him. 'niesc sorts of
feelings arc intensified, of course, if the woman is naked, or partially
clothed, as I was, according to his dictates, before him. Slaves, of
course, are often commanded to nudity before their master and their
clothing, any, is always subject to his approval.
		In the slippers, interestingly, I felt again the Tatrix of CorCyrus.
"Are there spies in the city?" I asked.
"Doubtless Argentum has spies in the city," he said.
"Our spies," I said. "Ones who spy on our own people."
		"Of course," he said. "That is a realistic precaution in any city.
"And to whom do these spids report?" I asked.
"To the proper authorities," he said.
		"I am not aware of receiving the reports of these spies," I said.
		"You are still being trained in the governance of CorCyrus," he
said.
"How goes the war?" I asked.
"As I reported earlier," he said, "well."
		"The enemy," I said, suddenly,, almost faltering, "is within twenty
pasangs of Corcyrus."
		"Tbat information is, I believe," he said, "approximately correct."
'11at is too closel" I said.
		"Such matters need -not concern the Tatrix,," he said. "Tbey need
concern, rather, our generals."
"That is too closel" I said.
		"We shall soon cut their supply lines," be said. "Do not fear, Lady
Sheila. Our forces will be victorious."
"Ar is in the warl" I said.
"Tbat is true," he said. "But momentarily we are expecting
reinforcements from Cos."'
"I am afraid, Ligurious," I said.
	"T'here is nothing to fear," he said. "The city is secure. The
palace is impregnable."
	"I do not want the war," I said. "I want the fighting
stopped. I am afraid. I want a trucel"
	"Such matters," he said, "need not concern you. Leave
them to others."
	"Surely the enemy will consider a trucel" I said.
	Ligurious looked at me and, suddenly, laughed. His laugh-
ter unsettled me. I felt that perhaps I had said something
inuttcrably naive or stupid.
	"That is out of the question?" I asked.
	"Yes," said Ligurious. Was the enemy so bitter, so deter-
mined? What bad driven them to these passions of war?
What was it that they desired in Corcyrus?
	"Sue for peacel" I said.
	"Everything is planned for," said Ligurious. "We have an-
ticipated all contingencies."
	"I want us to sue for peace," I said.
	"T'hat decision is not yours," said Ligurious.
	"Am I not the Tatrix of Corcyrus?" I demanded.
	"Of course," smiled Ligurious.
	"Do I not rifle in Corcyrus?" I asked.
	"Of course," said Ligurious.
	"I rule in Corcyrus," I said.
	"Yes," said Ligurious.
	"And who rules me?" I asked.
	"I do," said Ligurious.
	I shuddered.
	"Did Lady Sheila enjoy her spiced vulo this evening?" he
asked.
	"Yes," I whispered.
	He then left.
	I went to the barred window, looking out. I was confined
to my quarters. Out there, somewhere, in the darkness, be-	4i
yond the walls, was the enemy.
	Apparently they were such that they would not even con-
sider a truce.
	I wondered what it was that they wanted, so keenly, so de-
terminedly, in CorcyTus.
	I was frightened. Perhaps the troops of Cos would come to
our rescue. I was pleased that I was safe in the palace.
Dress her in her most regal robes," commanded Ligurious.
"Yes, Master," said Susan, fumbling with the garments.
		I stood before the mirror in my quarters. I watched the glorious robes of state being placed about my shoulders.
		Earlier I had stood frightene.d behind the door, now kept locked, my
ear to the wood.
"They are within the city!" I had heard cry.
"Impossiblel" had cried a guard.
		"How was it done?" inquired another, insistently, bewilderedly.
		"It seems a Sa-Tarna wagon was fleeing before the approaching
enemy, seeking to reach the city before being overtaken," said a man.
"There was time, happily, it seemed, though the matter would be close,
for the wagon to win its race, and sorely, as you know, did we need the
grain. Ile gate was opened to admit the wagon. Surely there would then
be time, and time enough, given the distances involved, to close the
gate. ne wagon seemed to be drawn by two strings of male slaves,
twenty in each string, as is common. These men, however, were not
slaves. The wagon within the portal, they threw off their harnesses and
from beneath the grain drew forth swords. They prevented the closing
of the gate. In moments the vanguard of the enemy had arrived."
see
		I had hurried then to the barred window. I could smoke rising from
the city.
		Shortly thereafter Ligurious and Susan had arrived at my quarters.
		Ligurious wore soldierly garb, but of a sort with which I was not
familiar. I did not know the insignia, the markings.
"Put her in the veil of state," said Ligurious. Susan brought
forth a long, lovely veil, intricately embroidered. She adjusted my robes
about me, concealing, in the fashion of the robes of concealment, now
not thrown back, but drawn up, my hair and much of my head. She
then pinned the veil in place. It was very beautiful. It was opaque.
Little could now be seen of me but my eyes and a bit of the bridge of
my nose. I had not even known such a veil existed. Hitherto I had
generally worn veils only when intending to travel incognito in the city,
and I had never worn them on official occasions of state.
		Come along," said Ligurious. Ile took my arm and, half dragging
me, conducted me from my quarters.
		In moments we were hurrying through the halls. Falling in behind
Ligurious were some five or six men, not my guards, who were
dressed much as he was.
		The halls se'emed, for the most part, oddly deserted. Occasionally a
man ran past. At one point, crouching down, then kneeling, as wt
passed, by hangings at the side of the corridor, was a slave girl. She
was terrified. She wore some twists of silk about her. She wore a
collar of a sort, rather high and ornate, which is often jeweled. No
jewels, however, caught the light as we passed. They had been, I
gathered, pried from their settings.
		Susan was not with us. I did not know where she was. Apparently
she had been left behind.
		I was thrust into an anteroom, one off the great hall. In this room
there were some four or five men and a woman.The woman wore a
robe, hooding her, and was turned away from me. She -was about my
height Interestingly she was barefoot and the robe she wore came
only a bit below the -3. 1 thought she had nice calves and ankles. Mine,
I  thought, might be better, A man, dressed rather in the fashion of
Ligurious and the others, was lifting a sheet about her. She clutched this
sheet about her, drawing it even about her head, and holding it together,
before her face, effectively veiling herself with it. She turned to face
me. Then she turned away. Her eye color, I noted, was not dissimilar to
mine.
		Ligurious turned me, so that I faced the door to the great hall,
where, on the lofty dais, reposed the throne of Corcyrus.
"Is all ready?" asked Ligurious.
"Yes," responded a man.
"The tarns?" asked Ligurious.
"Yes," said the man. "Everything is ready."
I turned. I saw that the sheet, now, had been drawn com-
	pletely over the woman, as though thrown over her. As it
	hung about her, its bern fell midway 4tween her ankles and
	knees. I was startled. It was almost as tbongb, under the
	sheet, she might be naked. I gasped. Something was being
	fastened about her throat, over the sheet, under ber chin. It
	was round. I'liere was a long strap connected with it. It was a
	slave collar and leashl
		Ligurious took me by the arm and turned me about, again,
	facing me toward the door to the great ball.
		I did not know who the woman was, but I suspected that
	she might be she with whom Ligurious had confessed himself
	to be so smitten, she to whom I apparently bore some resem-
	blance. It seemed odd to me, almost incomprehensible, that
	Ligurious, a man such as he, who must have had some fifty
	women at his feet, women such as Susan, women kneeling in
	terror and awe about him, for he was their total master,
	should be so much like a callow youth, should -be so weak,
	with this woman. Did he not know, I asked myself, scorn-
	fully, that she, too, ultimately, was only a woman, that she,
	too, ultimately, needed only the whip and a master?
		I was then conducted into the great hall by Ligurious. It
	was empty. The two great entrance doors, at the far end,
	were locked from the inside, with the great beams in their
	brackets. It took ten guardsmen to move those beams. I could
	not begin to budge them.
		"Is there any sign of the men of Cos?" I heard a man                   ask behind us, from the anteroom.
		"Tbey are not focls," said another man. "They will not
	meet Ar on the land."
		"Do the people resist the enemy?" I heard another man
	ask.
		"No," said another man. "They abet them."
		I ascended the steps of the dais, conducted by            Ligurious.
	At his indication I took my place on the throne.
		"The doors of the anteroom will be locked behind us," said Ligurious. "You will not be able to open them."
"hat is going on?" I asked.
		"You will soon serve your purpose," said Ligurious.
		"What purpose?" I said.
		"That purpose which we feared might one day have to        be served, that purpose, or major purpose, why you were brought to Gor."
		"I do not understand," I said. I did recall that last night I
bad been assured that everything bad been planned for, that
all contingencies, according to Ligurious, bad been anticipated.	JI
I wondered if I still had a role to play in these contingencies.
		"You still need nic, then?" I said. "I still figure in your plans?"
"Of course," be said.
		I was relieved to bear this. I was afraid as to what might prove to
be iny fate if a man such as Ligurious no longer had any particular or
special use for me. I was pretty. I could .conjecture what fates might
lie in store for me.
"Listen," said he. "Do you hear it?"
		"Yes," I said. It was a dull, striking sound, coming as though from a reat distance. It had a rhythm to it.
		"It is a ram," said he, "doubtless slung from a cradle, drawn by
ropes, doubtless with a wiU by citizens of CorCyrus.
"It sounds far away," I said.
"It is at the outer gate," he said.
"The citizens of Corcyrus love me," I said.
		"Do not doubt it," be said. "I must now take my leave. I fear there is
little time."
		"But what of me?" I said. "I am afraid. Will you come back for
me?"
		"Have no fear, Lady Sheila," he said. "You will be come for."
"Soon?" I asked.
		"Yes," he said. He then backed down the stairs. He bowed deeply.
"Farewell, Lady Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus," he said.
He then withdrew.
		I heard a splintering in the distance, and then, in a moment, a new
striking, doubtless on the interior gate.
		I heard the closing of the anteroom door behind Ligurious, and then
the dropping in place of beams, the sliding of bolts. It had been locked
from within, from the other side.
		I sat on the throne, clutching its arms, alone in the great hall.
I clutched the arms of the throne in terror.
		Before this I had heard the screams of the crowd outside the
doors, their shouting and pounding, then the striking of a heavy beam
against the door.
		Men and women, many in rags, brandishing knives and implements,
mixed with soldiers, poured into the great ball. The doors were open,
and one bung awry on its hinges. The mob, with the soldiers, swirling
about the heavy beam, now dropped, which had been used to breach
the doors, flooded toward the dais. At the foot of the dais, shaking
fists, shouting angrily, some restrained by soldiers, the crowd stopped.
"Cut her to piecesl" I heard. "Tear her to piecesl"
	"She is 'Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrust" cried men in the
crowd. "It is Sheila, Tatrix of Corc~rusl" "It is shel" "It is
Sheilal" "It is Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrusl"
I moaned. I was terrified that they should know that.
		Miles of Argentum sheathed his sword. He handed his helmet to one
of the men with him.
He approache(ithe throne.
"Please, don't," I said.
		Then fienderked away the veil of state from my features. 1, though a
free woman, had been face-stripped before free men. My face was as
bare to them as though I might be a slave. Face-stripping a free
woman, against her will, can be a serious crime on Gor. On the other
hand, Corcyrus had now fallen. Her women, thusly, now at the feet of
her conquerors, would be little better than slaves. Any fate could now
be inflicted on them that the conquerors might wish, including making
them actual slaves. The hand of Miles of Argentum then brushed back
my robes, that my whole head and features, to the throat, might be
revealed to the crowd.
		"This is the way in which I am more accustomed to seeing you," he
said. "Greetings, Lady Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus."
if
"I am Tiffany Collins," I said, weakly. "I am from Earth."
		"Your features," said Miles of Argenturn, "are surely well known
to hundreds, if not thousands."
		"Cut her to piecesl" cried men in the crowd. "Tear her to piecesl"
cried women in the crowd.
"I am from Earthl" I cried. "I am Tiffany Collinsl"
		"Bring forth the palace slave called Susan," said Miles of Argentum.
		Susan, from somewhere in the back, was thrust forward. I gasped.
She was absolutely naked, save that she still wore the collar of
Ligurious. Her hands were bound behind her back.
In her nose there was a small, circular, wire apparatus which	P;j
had apparently been held open, thrust through her septum,
and then permitted to spring shut. Attached to this apparatus,
tied through it, dangling, was a looped thong, about two feet
in length. It was clearly a device by means of which a slave,
or perhaps any female, might be led.
		"You are Susan, are you not," inquired Miles of Argentum, "who
was as personal serving slave to Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus?"
"Yes, Master," she said.
He indicated that she might kneel before the throne.
		"Is this she who was to you as Mistress?" inquired Miles of
Argenturn, addressing himself to thb terrified slave from Cincinnati at
his feet.
"Tell them I am Tiffany Collins, from Earth I" I told Susan.
	"'She is truly from Earth, I think, Master," wept Susan, and that is
what, I recall, she told me her name was."
I almost cried out with relief.
		"And putting aside such former names and worlds," said Miles, "as hom do you know her here?"
Susan began to tremble.
		"You know the penalties for a slave who lies," said Miles. "Think arefully and well, my small, nose-ringed beauty."
		"She is she who was to me as Mistress," said Susan, sobbing, "she
whom I served, Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus."
There was a cry of elation from the crowd.
		"Forgive me, Mistressl" cried Susan. She then, at a sign from Miles,
led by the thong, in the grip of a soldier, hurrying, almost running, that
she did not place the least stress on the device in her nose, was being
conducted rapidly from the room. I supposed she would be placed with
other women, perhaps wearing similar devices. They can be tied about
slave ring% fastened to other such thongs, and so on. Just before the
soldier had grasped the thong I had seen her wildly look at Miles of
Argentum. Doubtless she remembered him well from the audience, so
long ago. Too, I thought it quite likely that be remembered her. In that
audience he had looked upon her as though she might not be likely to
quickly slip his mind. Too, he had had her summoned to the dais by her
palace name. She had tried to read in his countenance, in that brief, wild
instant, before she was removed from the dais, her fate, but she had
been unable to do so. He was not, perhaps by intention, even looking at
her. She did not know then if, when the collar of Ligurious was
removed from her, she would be sent to his headquarters or not. There,
of course, if she were found sufficiently pleasing, after perhaps a closer
examination and trial, another collar might be put on her. She would, in
any case, wear one collar or another, somewhere. She -vas a slave.
I the captain from Ar," said Miles of Argentum.
lean figure entered the hall, and approached now 'long aisle.
	"Drusus Rencius, Captain of Ar, on detached service to the
forces of Argentwn," said Miles of Argentum. "I believe you
two have met."
	I shook my bead, disbelievingly. I had been told he was a
renegade from Ar. Twice, I knew, suddenly realizing it now,
he could have  me from Corcyrus, delivering me to Ar-
genturn, once when we were on the walls near the tarn
perches and once, later, when, my whereabouts unknown to
Ligurious and others, I had been in the house of Kliomenes,
braceleted, half naked and helpless. But he had not abducted
me, nor attempted to do so. It seemed rather he had, for
whatever reason or reasons, preferred, as he had once re-
marked on the walls of Corcyrus, to let the game take its
course.
	"Do you know this woman, Captain?" asked Miles, general
of Argentum.
	Drusu's Rencius handed his helmet to a soldier and climbed
then to the height of the throne.
	He put out his hands and lifted me to my feet before the
throne. He then held me by the upper arms and looked
down, deeply, into my eyes.
	I shuddered. This was not a matter in which he wished to
risk any mistake.
	"Yes," be said.
	"How do you know her?" asked Miles of Argenturn.
	"I was, for several weeks," he said, "her personal body-
guard."
	"You know her then quite well?" asked Miles.
	"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
	"Can you identify her?" asked Miles.
	"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
	"Who is she?" asked Miles of Argentum.
	"She is Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus," said Drusus Rencius.
	There was a sudden cry of pleasure and victory from the
crowd. Drusus Rencius released me, and turned about, and,
descending ffom the dais and making his way through the
crowd, left.
	I watched him leave.
	"Strip her," said Miles of Argenturn, "and put her in
golden chains, and put her in the golden cage."
	I felt the hands of soldiers at my clothing. It was torn from
me, before the very throne. Then, when I was absolutely
naked, a golden collar, to which a chain was attached, with	Jk~
186 	John Norman
wrist rings and ankle rings, was brought. It was a chaining system of
that sort called a sirik. M? chh, was thrust up and I felt the golden collar
locked on my throat. Almost at the same time my wrists, field closely
together before me, were locked helplessly in the wrist rings. In another
instant my ankles, held, were helpless in the ankle rings. A chain then
ran from my collar to the chain on,my wrist rings and from thence, the
same chain, to tile chain on my ankle rings. My ankle-ring chain was
about twelve inches in length, and my wrist-ring chain was about six
inches in length. The central chain, where it dangled down from the
wrist rings, Jay on the floor before the throne, before it looped up to
where it was closed about a central link of the ankle-ring chain. This
permits; the prisoner, usually a slave, to lift her arms. She is thus in a
position to feed herself or better exhibit tier beauty to masters in a wider
variety of postures and attitudes than would otherwise be the case. The
point of the sirik is not merely to confine a woman, but to confine her
beautifully.
		Two guards then held me, one by each arm, before the throne. I
was naked. I was chained. I wore the sirik.
		They lifted me up, then, at a sign from Miles of Argenturn. I was
absolutely helpless. My feet must have been some six or seven inches
from the floor before the throne. Even by pointing my toes I could not
couch the carpeting. I was held there, being exhibited to the crowd,
chained in the sirik.
		"Behold the Tatrix of Corcyrus," called Miles of Argentum,
indicating me with a sweeping gesture, "helpless, and in chainsl"
		There was a wild cheer from the crowd, almost a shriek, as though for blood.
"Will you come back for me?" I had asked Ligurious.
		"Have no fear, Lady Sheila," he had said. "You will be come for."
"Soon?" I had asked.
		"Yes," he had said. Then he had bade me farewell, and left.
		I looked down on the crowd, into the wild eyes, the upraised fists. I
saw, too, the soldiers. I moved helplessly in the chains, held before the
crowd. Ligurious and the woman, and the others, had doubtless, by
now, on tams, made good their escape. The uniforms the men had
worn were not unlike that in which I had just seen Drusus Rencius, and
not unlike those of certain others about the dais, soldiers. They were, I
took it, babilifnents of Ar. The woman in the slave collar and on the
leash, covered by the sheet, her bare feet and ankles visible beneath it,
would presumably be assumed to be merely a naked captive.
		I struggled in the chains. The words of Ligurious, that I would be
come for, now took on a new and frightful meanihg for me.
I looked down into the crowd.
Now it seemed, trtily, I had been come for.
		"Make wayl Clear the way!" called Miles of Argenturn. Soldiers
began to clear the aisle of men and women, that we might have a clear
exit from the great hall. I was lowered to my feet.
		"What are you going to do with me?" I asked Miles of Argenturn.
"We are going to take you into the courtyard," he said,
	and put you in the golden cage. You may recall that I told you once
that you belonged in a cage, a golden cage."
		Tears sprang into my eyes. I did not want to be put into a cage. I
was not a slave, or another type of animal. Too, I did not understand
the meaning of a golden cage.
		At a sign from Miles of Argenturn a soldier picked me up, lightly, in
his arms. He held me as easily as though I might have been a child.
Then, in his arms, I was carried rapidly down the steps of the dais and
down the aisle, between the halves of the parted crowd.
		In a matter of but moments I was blinking against the sunlight in the
courtyard. Too, I felt the heat and the sun on my bared skin. I was put
on my feet near a tall, narrow, cylindrical cage with a conical top. The
height of this cage was about seven feet; its rounded floor was
perhaps a yard in diameter. In the top of the cage, at the top of the
cone, on the outside, there was a heavy ring.
		I was thrust into the cage and the door was locked shut behind me.
It had two locks, one about a third up from the aoor and the other
about a third down from the top.
		"In this cage, Lady Sheila," said Miles of Argenturn, "you will be paraded through the streets of Corcyrus, exhibited in Our triumph.
Doubtless you will enjoy receiving the love and devotion of your
people. You will, thereafter, be transported n this same cage to
Argentum. I might mention to you that he bars of this cage, like the
chains you wear, are not of )ure gold, but of a sturdy golden alloy.
Similarly, portions of
the cage,. like the floor and the interior of the top, and the gilded cone
ring, are of iron. You vWl find that the holding power of these various
devices is more than adequate, by several factors, to hold ten strong
men. Incidentally, allow me to commend you on how well you look in
chains. You wear them beautifully enough to be a slave."
I clutched the golden bars, in order not to fall.
		"Your body, also," he said, "is beautiful enough to be that of a slave."
		I moaned. I could see men approaching, with rope. Too, behind
them, drawn by two tharlarion, came a flat-topped wagon. At the back
of this wagon was an arrangement of beams, with a projecting,
supported, perpendicularly mounted beam that extended forward, some
fifteen feet in the air, toward the front of the wagon. At the forward
portion of this projecting beam there was a ring, not unlike the one on
the top of the cage.
		Miles of Argentum surveyed me, and the chains, and the cage.
		"Yes," he said, "these arrangements all seem suitable and efficient. I
think we may count on your arriving in Argentum in good order."
		A rope was being passed through the ring at the top of my cage.
The flat-topped wagon was being drawn near. I gathered that the cage
would be suspended from the ring on the projecting beam on the
wagon, that it would hang sus. pended over the surface of the wagon,
some feet from the flat bed of the wagon. From within the cage, it
suspended thusly, I would not even be able to touch anything outside of
the cage.
I was totally in their power.
I was inutterably helpless.
"What are you taking me to Argentum for?" I asked.
"For impalement," he said.
		"No," I whimpered. "Nol" I awakened, my legs drawn up, cramped, in
the tiny cage. I lay on my side. I heard the chains move on the small,
circular floor of the cage. I twisted to my back, my knm raised. I could
feel the chain from the collar lying on my body. My manacled hands
were at my belly. The chain joining them I could feel, too, on my belly. 1
could feel the extension of the central chain, below the manacles, too,
on my body, and then it passed between my legs, lying on the iron floor,
then making its rendezvous with my shackled ankles. I had been
dreaming that I was again being carried in the cage through the streets
of Corcyrus. Because of 'the width of the wagon bed and the height of
the cage, some five feet or so above the surfade of the wagon bed, I had been reasonably well protected from the blows of whips, the
jabbings of sticks. Soldiers, too, patrolled the perimeters of the moving wagon. More than one man, pressing between the soldiers andclambering onto the wagon, sometimes unarmed, sometimes with a whip or stick, sometimes Dven with a knife, was seized and thrown back into the crowd by soldiers. The crowds cheered Miles of Argentum. and his men. And, as my wagon passed them, they seemed to go mad vith hatred and pleasure, crying out and jeering me, and shrieking with triumph to see me so helplessly a captive. The people of Corcyrus, it was clear, had welcomed the men of  from Ar, as liberators. The colors of Argentum and of Ar, on
ribbons and strips of cloth, angled from windows and festooned, even
being stretched etween windows and rooftops overhead, the triumphal
way. uch colors, too, were prominent in the crowd, on garments
being waved, fluttering, by citizens ahd sometimes even children,
perched on the shoulders of adults. I had stood 189
190 	John
Norman
in the cage, frightened, bewildered apd confused. I had not been able to
even begin to understand the hatred of the people. I had stood in the
cage that I might be better seen. If I did not do so, Miles of Argentum
had informed me, simply, I would be beaten like a slave.
		I had now awakened in the cage, frightened. I had dreamed I was
being again carried through the streets of Corcyrus. I had- recoiled,
fearfully, from the sting of a fruit rind hurled at me. Often in that
miserable journey, suspended in the cage, carried between jeering
crowds, I had been pclted with small stones, garbage and dung.
		I whimpered, chained in my tiny prison. At least I was alone now,
and it was quiet. The cage creaked a little, moving in the wind. I
crawled to my knees and, with my fingers, parted the opaque cloth
which had been wrapped about the cage for the night, before it had
been raised to its present position. I looked out through the tiny crack. I
could see fires of the camp, and several tents. I heard music from the
dis tance, from somewhere among the tents, where perhaps girls
danced to please masters. We were one day out of Corcyrus, on the
march to Argenturn. I looked down to the ground. It was some forty
feet below. The cage was slung now not from the ring on the wagon
beam but from a rope which had been thrown over a high stout branch
of a large tree. The cage had then been hoisted to this height and the
rope secured.
		"Villainess of Corcyrusl Tyranness of Corcyrusl" the people had
cried.
		I lay back down then in my chains, on the small iron floor of the
cage, my knees pulled up high, and looked upward at the hollow,
conelike ceiling of the cage. It seemed I had no more tears to cry.
I did not want to die.
I heard the music in the distance.
		I wished that I were a slave, that I might have a chance for life, that
I might have an opportunity to convince a master somehow, in any way
possible, that I might be worth sparing.
		But I was a free woman and would be subjected only to the cold
and inhuman mercies of the law.
I was being transported to Argentum for impalement.
I could not cry any more.
		Then, suddenly, I felt the cage drop an inch, and then another inch.
		I scrambled to my knees, looking out, as I could. But, because of the
opaque covering of the cage, its fastenings and the difficulty of moving
it, I could see very little.
		Then the cage was still. Then, after a time, it dropped another inch,
and then another. I knelt in the cage, holding my chains, to keep them
from making noise.
Slowly the cage was lowered. Then it rested on the ground.
		My heart was beating wildly. I now seemed very much alive. The
stealth, and the gradualness, which seemed to characterize what was
going on, did not suggest the activities of authorized representatives of
Miles of Argentum. It did not even occur to me to scream. From whom
would I summon help, and to what purpose? If these nocturnal visitors
wished to steal me, perhaps to make me a slave or sell me, I would go
only too willingly into whatever bondage they chose to inflict upon me. I
would enter it joyfully. I would revel in it. I would, in my gratitude, see
to it that I proved to be to them a slave beyond their wildest dreams.
Then suddenly I was terrifled. What if these visitors were not
opportunists or slavers. What if they were men of Corcyrus who
wished to return me to the city, there to subject me to secret and
horrifying tortures which might sbame the agonies of an impaling spear
on the walls of Argentum?
I did not know whether to cry out or not.
		The cover on the cage was unlaced, and thrust back, around the
cage. Two men were there. They were dressed entirely in black. They
wore masks. One of them held an unshuttered dark lantern and the
other opened a leather wrapper containing keys and tools on the
ground. He, then, with a variety of keys and picks, and small tools,
swiftly, expertly, trying one thing and then another, addressed himself to
the upper lock. He was skillful, and apparently a smith in such matters,
perhaps a skilled specialist within his caste. In fifteen Ehn both locks
had yielded. The cage door was Dpened and I was pulled out. I was
put on my back and the inan, swiftly, with numerous small keys, and
some of the Dther tools, addressed himself to my collar lock. I felt the
collar pulled away. Then, in a few Ehn, I had been freed, too, A the
manacles, and then the shackles. I was turned to my ;tomach. My right
wrist was tied to my left ankle. I struggled tbout, turning my head. I
saw the golden sirik put back in he cage; it was not the sort of thing, I
gathered, which these
ellows would care to have found in their possession; I then
192 	John
Norman
saw the cqge closed and the cover readjusted about it-, then, together,
the two men, with the rope, erew it slowly upward; in a few moments it
hung quietly where it had before, when it had been occupied. If its
lowering and raising had not been noticed, I did not think that now
anyone would be likely to find anything amiss until morning, when it
would be lowered and found empty. The cord which had fastened my
wrist to my ankle was then removed and I was drawn to my feet. I was
startled that I was put in no bonds. A cloak was handed to me. I drew it
swiftly about my body and over my head, grasping it closed with my
fists beneath my chin. Over my head as it was, and it being a short
cloak, too, it fell midway, as I held it about me, on my calves. I was
grateful not only for the disguise it afforded me, but, too, because it
gave me some way to conceal my nakedness. I felt a hand at my back
and I was conducted from the area of the tree and the suspended cage.
As we removed ourselves from that area we passed the slumped
figures of two guards, an overturned flagon near them.
		"Holdl" called a drunken voice, as we passed between tents.
		We stopped. My left upper arm, now that we bad left the area of the
tree and cage, under the cloak, was in the custody of the man on my
left. He had taken it in charge almost immediately upon leaving the
cage area. He did not wish to ac. cept the risk, it seemed, that I might
attempt to escape, perhaps impulsively attempting to dart away into the
darkn~ss. There was little danger of that now. His grip was like iron. I
still held the cloak together, and about my face, with my right hand. I
attempted to pull the cloak forward more, and averted my face, that my
features might not be seen.
		"Masks, eh?" said the newcomer. "So she is a free woman, is she?
But perhaps not for longl"
		He laughed drunkenly, and staggered about, in front of us. He tried
to reach for the cloak I held clutched about my face. I turned my face
away, clutching the cloak about it.
"A modest pudding," he said, surprised. "Forgive me,
Lady," he said, bowing low. Then he staggered about, behind t us, again.
Then I suddenly felt the cloak being lifted behind t me. "She has legs good
enough to be those of a slave," he
said. We then proceeded on our way. I was shaking. Too, I N now had
some idea of the publicness of a slave's body.
I was pulled back. into the shadows between some tents. D
Two guardsmen, with a lantern, passed. Then, gain, we threaded
our way amongst the canvas-lined lanes of the camp of the men of
Argenturn.
		Most of the tents were dark. Within some were small fires. When
men passed between the fires and the canvas wall of the tent we could
see their shadows on the canvas. In one tent a girl danced slowly,
sensuously, before a seated male. Her skills suggested that she might
be a camp slave, a girl from one of the strings of camp slaves, strings
Of girls OWDed by authorized mcrchants, holding contracts for certain
seasom or campaigns, kept within the camp, and traveling with it, for
renting out to soldiers at fees stipulated in the contracts. Too, of course,
she might be a girl even from Corcyrus, or another community, perhaps
a paga girl. Such as these are sometimes brought to the camps on
speculation. The fees for their use are not contractually controlled, as
are those of the regular camp slaves, but the fees of the camp slaves,
of course, being fixed and almost nominal, tend to exert a considerable,
informal influence on the market; they set competitive standards,
ensure realistic pricings and reduce the risk of excessive local
profiteering. On Earth it is not unusual for a free woman to attempt to
take a profit on her own beauty, using it, for example, if only in mate
competitions, to advance herself economically. On Gor, however, if
that same woman should be enslaved, she will soon discover that the
profits accruing from her beatity rcdound now not to her, but to her
master. This is quite appropriate. It, like she herself, is his.
		As we passed another tent, a darkened one, I heard the ,ounds of
chains from within. "Oh, more, Master, I beg you, please, more," I
heard, "more, more, please, oh, my Master, more, please more, please
more, my Master, I beg youl" How ;candalized I was! What was it
within, a harlot, a whore! But I feared it was far worse, something a
thousand times lower, tomething a thousand times more despicable
and helpless, a Jave.
		In a few moments we stopped, between some darkened ents. I
was then lifted from my feet and placed, sitting, on he ground.
		"Why are we stopping here?" I whispered. "Who are you? Vhat are
you doing!"
		My last question was prompted by the fact that one of the ien, the
larger of the two, he who had held my left arm, had
194 	John Norman
now crossed. my ankles. He was now wrapping a long piece of binding
fiber about them, sometimes looping them both, sometimes taking it
about only od ankle, sometimes snaking it about both ankles and
securing it between both with tightly drawn loops. He even,
occasionally, threaded an end through other, already secured loops. He
then pulled the entire tie tight. What he had done was far more
elaborate and complex than was required to hold a girl's ankles. A loop
or two, properly knotted, I did not doubt, would be adequate for the
perfect accomplishment of such a task. Then, to my surprise, he placed
the two loose ends of the binding fiber in my hands. I held them,
puzzled. He bad not knotted the tie. Similarly no move had been made
to secure my hands.
		"Waitl" I whispered. "Nol" I then understood what they intended.
		71be smaller of the two men, he who had been so expert with the
locks and chains, placed his fingers across my lips.
		"Nol" I whispered. "Don't leave me! Who are you? Why have you
done what you have done?"
		He increased the pressure of his fingers on my lips, and I was silent.
		He leaned close to me and whispered. I did not recognize the voice.
		"We have brought you here,," he said. "It is a half of a pasang from
the cage."
I nodded, miserably.
"The camp will be awake in three Ahn," he said.
Inodded.
He withdrew his fingers from my lips.
"Do not leave me!" I begged.
"The camp will be awake in three Ahn," he said.
"Who are you?" I begged.
He was silent.
"W"hy have you done what you have done?" I asked.
		"Once you did me a kindness," he said. "I have never forgotten."
"What kindness?" I asked.
		"Our accounts are now squared," he said. "It is done. The matter is
finished."
		"And what, then, is his motivation?" I asked, indicating the', larger
man.
"It is other than mine," said the smaller man.
The larger man then drew his cloak away from me. I was
KAJIRA OF GOR 	195
then sitting in the dirt, naked, with my ankles fastened together, the two
ends of the fiber clutched in my hands.
		"Do not leave me," I begged. "Keep me. I am prepared even to be
your slavel"
		The larger man suddenly, angrily, reached for my throat. I felt those
large hands close about it. For an instant things went black. I know he
could crush the life from me at his whim.
"Do not kill her," said the other.
The hands left my throat.
		I gasped. I swallowed painfully. The larger man retrieved his cloak.
The two men stood, preparing to take their leave.
"Do not leave me here, I beg you!" I whispered.
		"Already, in this," said the smaller man, "you have been granted
more than a hundred times the lenience and favor that you deserve."
"Are you not my friends?" I asked.
"No," said he. "We are your enemies."
I looked up at him, in misery.
		"Farewell," said he, "Lady Sheila, villainess and tyranness of
Corcyrus."
"Wait!" I whispered.
		But they were gone, and gone in different directions. I thought of
crying out, but doubtless they would be away by the time men would
corne, and with their masks doffed, who would know them? I would
succeed in doing little more than calling attention to myself.
		"Waid" I whispered softly, piteously. But they had vanished.
		"The camp will be awake in three Ahn," the smaller man bad said.
		Feverishly I began to unwind and unthread the binding flber on my
ankles. It took me better than an Ehn to do so.
		.1 saw a lantern approaching, held by one of two guardsmen. I cast
aside the binding fiber, anef then crept to the side, to lie on my belly in
the shadows behind a tent. I felt one of the tent ropes on my shoulder.
I heard someone inside the tent stirring in sleep. The lantern of the
guardsmen had then passed.

		"Holdl Who goes there?" called a voice. I heard the snarling of the
patrol sleen, its jerking at its chain.
		Weeping, I fled back among the tents. The guardsman did not
release the sleen. He would probably not want it loose among the tents.
		I crouched behind a tent, in the darkness. This was the third time I
had tried to leave the camp. Once there had been stakes and wire;
another time there had been a deep ditch; each time there had been
guardsmen with sleen. The sleen, I had little doubt, had been able to
detect my approach, and had led the guardsmen to my vicinity. The
perimeter of the camp seemed ringed with guards and sleen. The camp
was heavily guarded. This was perhaps because it was still within the
range of Corcyrus, and perhaps, too, because of a special captive, a
Tatrix, thought to be chained in a suspended cage.
		I looked up. I moaned. In the moonlight, not more than a hundred
yards away, I could see the cage slung from its branch. In my running,
and fear, disoriented, and once pursued by drunken soldiers, I had
inadvertently returned to its vicinity. If I were caught I did not doubt but
what I would soon again find myself the prisoner of those cramped
quarters, though doubtless in fresher, sturdier bonds, probably of iron,
and not locked, but hammered closed about my neck and limbs. The
cage, too, then would probably be closed with plates and rivets, and the
guards doubled or tripled about it. I crouched down, my head in my
hands. In a little more than an Ahn, I feared, the camp would be
awakened. Already it seemed to me that there were more people about
than before, more men to avoid.
		I shrank back into the shadows. Two men, cooks, I think, from their
conversation, were passing.
		I heard wings overhead. Looking up I saw a tarn. It was flying
northwest. Behind it, on long ropes, dangled a tarn bas196
ket. Sleen were no problem for it, I thought bitterly. It was not the first
such departure, or, indeed, arrival, I had noted in the camp.
		I had hitherto avoided the more fit, busy portions of the camp,
generally about the areas for tradesmen, suppliers and sutlers, and the
storage, delivery and mess areas.
		There were too many men there, and it would be, surely, too easy to
be detected.
		1, then, stealthily, my heart pounding, began to follow, keeping in the
shadows, the two inen who had just passed. I was terribly frightened.
They were moving toward the center of the camp.
		"What arc you doing there, Slut, skulking about?" called a man. I bad
not seen him, between the tents. He had some gear slung over his
shoulder. He was apparently waiting there. I backed away from him.
"Let her go," said another man, emerging from a tent. He, too, carried
some gear. "You can see she is a slave, returning to her master." I then
hurried away. In the darkness they had not detected that I lacked a
brand. Too, they had not noticed that my neck was not encircled by a
slave collar.
		I was now in consternation. I did not see how I could proceed.
People seemed to be getting up now about the camp.
"Ena!" called a girl, hurrying to catch up with another.
I stepped back into the shadows.
		A tall, slim girl, naked, turned about. A bit of slave silk dangled
languidly from her left hand.
		The new girl was short and lusciously bodied. She wore a brief,
silken slave tunic, fastened with a single tie at her bosom. A single tug
frees the tie and allows the garment to be parted for the view and
pleasures of a master. Both women wore collars.
		"And how did the night go?" asked the new girl. "Were you well
used?"
"Yes," responded the taller girl, dreamily. "And you?"
"Superbly," said the shorter girl.
		The two girls tl(en began to walk down the lane between the tents.
L my head down, my hair about my neck and shoulders, hopefully
tending to conceal the bareness of my neck, the absence there of a
steel circlet, fell into step behind them, seemingly, I hoped, only another
slave on her way back to her master.
		I soon.became aware that this must be a lane leading to the chains.
Other girls, soon, here aid there, entered it, before and behind me, and
between me and those who had been directly before me.
		"And what of the resistance you -intended to offer?" one girl was
asking another.
		"It was crushed," said the other. "He did not choose to accept it.
Then he made me serve him well."
		"It is the fifth time you have served in his tent since we left
Argentum," said the first girl.
"Yes," said the second. think he likes you," said the first girl.
"Perhaps," said the other.
"Do you think he will buy you?" asked the first girl.
		"it matters not to me," said the other. "I do not care, one way or the other."
		"There are stains on your face as though you bad been crying," said the girl. "And it does not seem to me that you have been beaten."
"Oh?" asked the other.
		"You pretentious tarsk sow," laughed the first girl, "you were begging him to buy youl"
"What if I was!" said the other, tossing her bead.
"And when did you beg this?" asked the girl.
		"After my resistance bad been crushed, and he made me serve
him without compromise as a slave," said the other, and again this
morning, before we parted."
"You seem pleased enough now," observed the girl.
		"Tassy," said'the other, "he is going to make an offer for me!"
"That is marvelous, Yitza!" said the first girl.
"But will Myron let me go?" asked the second girl.
		"I do not know," said the first. "Such matters are between the men."
The second girl moaned.
		"Look at it this way," said the first girl. "If we did not wear collars
we would not even know the touch of such men as Rutilius. Too, if we
were not slaves and sent to their tents, we would not even know what
to do. We would be only ignorant free women."
		"How I sometimes pity free womenl" laughed the second girl. "They
are so stupidl"
		"But fear them, Yitza," said the first girl, "for they are free and you
are enslaved."
"Of course," said the second girl, shuddering.
"And remember that they hate you," said the first.
"I know," said the second.
		A man steppe(' out, into the center of the lane. I stopped,
frightened. But his attention was on another.
"Yeela," said lie.
		A girl, addressed by a free man, fell to her knees before him.
"I have paid fee for you," he said.
		"it is early, Master," she laughed. "Would you lie to a poor slave?"
"Perhaps," lie said.
		"If you have not, know that you will be charged," she laughed. "I am
not for freel"
		But then he had crouched down and taken her in his arms. She was
thrown beneath him, grasping at him, to the dirt. Frightened, I took my
way about them. I tried to hide among other girls. I hoped that no man
would decide to pull me out from among them.
"What is for breakfast?" I heard one girl asking another.
		"I have heard," said the other girl, who was a shorter one, "that each
of us will have five berries put in our gruel this morning."
"Good," said the first.
Alp
		"If no bad reports are received on any of us," added the second.
"I was pleasing," said the first.
"So, too, was I," averred the second.
		"If Jasmine is not fully pleasing again," said the first girl, "I think I
will pull her hair out."
		"And so, too, will the rest of the chaint" laughed the second girl, the
shorter one.
		Jasmine, I suspected, would soon learn to be pleasing. Certainly it
would be in her best interests to be so. She would probably have to
spend at least a portion of every day within the reach of her chain
sisters. Doubtless soon she would be begging them for counsels in
sensuality, for tricks and techniques, that she might improve herself and
become less inadequate as a slave.
		"He took away my clothes," one girl was telling another, "but then
he did not so much as touch me. He made me
200 	John
Norman
serve him, rather, in small and menial ways. I must cook Sullage for
him. Then I must launder Ond iron a tunic. Then I must dust his goods
and clean and tidy his tent. Then I was made to sew, and then clean
and polish his leather."
		"And how did you feel," asked the girl to whom she was speaking,
"performing these small tasks for him, suitable for a slave?"
		"Gradually, serving him helplessly, then lovingly in these fashions, I
became more and more aroused," she said. "Then, finally, after the
polishing of the feather, I could stand it no longer. I threw myself to my
belly before him, juicing like a larma."
"Did he then content you?" asked the other girl.
		"Yes," said the girl, "though the brute made me squirm a little first."
		How well that master had understood sex, and the sexuality of the
female, I thought. He apparently understood something of the
pervasiveness and totality of female sexuality. They had been, in their
way, having sex together for hours, before he even touched her. Well
had he understood the woman, and her needs and desires to be pleasing,
and to submit and serve in many ways. It was the total woman, in her
wholeness, which he, to her joy, had chosen to dominate.
How terrible, I thought, to be a slave!
		"Would you like to be sent again to his tent?" asked the other girl.
"Yes," said the girl. "Yesl Oh, yesl"
		What a meaningless slut she wasl How pleased I was that I was not
a slave!
"You, Slave!" called a voice.
		I stopped in my tracks. I put my fists before my mouth, in terror, but,
too, to hide my neck.
"Not you, you!" said the voice.
		I quickly hurried on, trembling. It seemed that any moment I must be
discovered.
"I must see him again," the girl in front of me was saying.
"Why?" asked the other.
"I think he is my love master," she breathed.
		"It is more likely that you are his love slave," laughed the other.
"He must call for me again!" said the girl.
		"You are, of course, entitled to hope that," said the other, "when you
lie alone, chained in your place."
"He must!" she wept.
		"Perhaps he will have you summoned again to his tent," said the
second girl.
"I must see him again!" she said.
		"That will be decided by masters," said the second girl. How
horrifying to be a slave, I thought. How pleased I was that I was not a
slave.
		Swiftly, then, seeing more men waiting further down the lane, sonic
with loops of chain in their hands, I slipped to the side between the
tents. I could see women lining up down there, too, being put in wrist
or throat coffle, each one doubtless reporting in, and in the proper
position, to the appropriate slave master.
		I skirted a large cooking area. I could smell freshly baked bread,
and the cooking of eggs and meat.
		I made my way among tents, every sense alert, sometimes crawling
on my hands and knees.
		It was still quite dark. Here and there there were morning fires. The
moons were down.
		I cried out in misery. A sleen, snarling, leapt toward me, but was
stopped by its chain.
		I continued on my way, treading narrow valleys between mountains
of sacks, narrow aisles separating cliffs of boxes.
		"Where are you going, little lady?" called a fellow from above me.
He was standing on boxes, carrying a box. I had not even seen him.
"The chains," he said, "are behind you and to your right."
		Swiftly I sped away, in the general direction he had indicated. Then,
when I was confident I was out of his sight, I resumed, as nearly as I
could, given the bundles, the boxes and crates, my original direction.
		Then I found myself in a blind alley, a place where the passage was
closed by a sheer wall of boxes, several feet over
y head. I hurried back and tried another passage. It, too, to
y iniscry, was blocked. Then I suddenly realized I had lost
	y direction. Between the boxes, at places, darknesses in the arkness,
there were narrow cracks. I did not know which
	ere passages and which were mere places where several oxes had
been removed. I struck with my fists at the wall of oxes.
Then, suddenly, I heard a tarn scream, and not more than
o or three hundred yards away.
Too, I saw a lantern approaching behind me.
	I darted through an opening, came to a wall, and crou
between two boxes.
I saw the light of the lantern on the boxes ahead of me, a WO
it was lifted at the passage I had entered.
	"She came this way," said a voice.
	I heard the two men entering the passage.
	"There she is!" said one of them. I gasped, in terror.
	Then I heard a sudden scrambling. "I've got you, you little
she-sleen!" he said.
	I heard a small body flung to the dirt. Then I heard the
snapping on of slave bracelets.
	"Turn her over," said a voice.
	I heard a body moked.
	"She's a pretty one," said a voice. "Read her collar."
	"Our little thief is Tula, of the chain of Ephialtes," said the
other voice.
	"I stole nothing, Masterl" cried the girl.
	"Thrust up her tunic," said the first voice. "Now split your	I legs, Tula. Good girl. Now, what were you saying?"	girl
	"It was only one pastry, Master," said the girl. "For all
Tula! Do not beat herl"
	"Keep those legs wide, Tula," said the first voice.	con
	"Yes, Master," whimpered the girl.	imp
	I then listened, with misery, while the two men, one after hap
	the other, in the narrow passageway between the boxes, used
brutal, forceful use of her almost overwhelmed me psycholog- whil
ically. How helpless, how dominated are slavesl I touched thin
myself. To my horror, 1, too, was wet. I gritted my teeth. I
		her
hoped they could not smell me. I trembled. I tried not to feel,
		with
It was almost as though they, in inflicting themselves on
		that
pathetic slave, were subjecting me, as well, to those inso
debasing, masterly thrusts. Yet, of course, they were not, pum
in this, to my scandal, I felt keen frustration. I found myse Mg,
envying her. I wondered what it would be like to be help" not
in the arms of such brutes, a cringing vessel for th
pleasure, choiceless but to rhapsodically succumb. time
forced such thoughts from my mind. Surely I must n
such thoughts. Surely they were appropriate only for a slave
I looked up, miserably. The sky was becoming gray n
In a few minutes, perhaps, the cage would be lowered.
my absence would be noted.	girl.
Me entire camp, then, and its vicinity, I did not doubt, uld be
subjected to an inch-by-inch search, one that it uld be impossible to
elude.
I had failed to escape.
'On your feet, Tula," said one of the men.
'Tula has served you well, has she not7" begged the girl. I ird her
pull at the slave bracelets.
'Put down her tunic," said the first man.
,,rherc," said the second.
'When we called to you to stop, Tula," said the first man, iu ran.
Have You ever run away before?"
'I was not really running away," said the girl. "I just did want you to
catch me."
'Must a question be repeated?" asked the first man.
'No, Master," she said, quickly. "I have never run away' ore!"
That is fortunate for you," said the man. shuddered, crouching
between the boxes. The first time a runs away she is commonly
only beaten. Many girls,
m they first go into a collar, do not realize that escape, for practical
purposes, is impossible for them, or how easily, imonly, they can be
picked up and caught. The practical ~ossibility of escape is a
function of several factors. Pers one of the most important among
them is the closely nature of Gorean society. In such a society it is
difficult
-stablish false identities. Other factors which might be A are the
support of the society for slavery, the absence i place to run, so to
speak, and the relentlessness with ch slaves are commonly sought.
Other factors are such gs as the distinctive garb of the slave, the
encirclement of neck with a collar and the fact that her body is
marked
t a brand. The best that a slave can commonly hope for is she
might fall into the power of a new master. The usual
ishment for a girl's second attempt at escape is hamstringthe
severing of the tendons behind the knees. This does completely
immobilize the girl, for she may still, for cxle, drag herself about
by her hands. Such girls are somes used as beggars, distributed
about a city by wagon in morning, and then picked up again at
night, with whatearnings they may have managed to obtain during
the
You will not beat me though, will you?" wheedled the

'No, said the first man.
"Thank you, Masters!" said the girl
"You have, however," said the man stolen a pastry, lied to me
about it to us, and run away."
"You said you would not beat me!" protested the girl.
"We shall not," said the man. "Ephialtes might."
"Do not tell him, I beg you!" she cried.
"Do you really think that you can do the things you have
done with impunity, you, a slave?" asked the man.
"No, Master," she wept.
		"We have discovered you have a taste for sweets," said the and man.
"Ephialtes will discover if you have a taste for leather."
	"Have pity on me, Masters," she wept. "I am only a mg
helpless, braceleted sl;kvcl" 	I
"Turn about, Tula," said the man. "You are on your way
back to your master."'
As I heard them leaving, I looked about the corner of my
	hiding place. I saw two large men. Preceding them, her hands
	locked behind her in slave bracelets, was a beautifully shaped
	little slave. She had dark hair. Her slave tunic, which was ex-
	tremely short, was red.
		I followed the men down the passageway. I stopped once, when they stopped, to extinguish the lantern.
		Following them I came to an opening between the
	through which they had taken their way.
		They had led me out of the maze.	bacl
		I then saw many wagons and could smell tharlarion, and straw. I made my way swiftly through this area.
		I then stopped, startled. 'Me great cry of a tarn smote
		I fell to my hands and knees as two men passed, on the
	other side of a wagon.
		I rose up and sped as furtively and swiftly as I could
toward the area from which I had heard the bird's scream. I said
stopped, seeing a bird take to the air, a tarn basket, on long T1
ropes, trailing behind it. I put out my hands. There seemed to M
be a platform in front of me. It must have been fif ty yards char
long. On it there seemed to be two broad, leather skids. On
these skids, some twenty yards or so in front of me, there. by
were four or five tarn baskets. I heard the snapping of wings
I saw ropes being fastened between the tarn and the
	et now first in the line. I crawled forward and, as the
	were concerned with the tarn, it moving about and occa-
	Ily stretching and snapping its wings, crawled into the
	basket. Within that basket was a blanket, one which had
	ably been used to cover some cargo brought to the camp.
	w the blanket over me and lay quietly in the bottom of
	asket.
	was becoming lighter now, and I was becoming more
	iore afraid.
	ave myself little chance to escape, but I could do noth-
	ore. I had done all that I could.
	seemed I lay there for an Ahn. The heavy fiber of the
	et cut into my skin. I did not, however, so much as
		Then other tarns were brought, one by one, to the
rm. The other baskets were lofted away. Mine only, it
	ed, remained.
	o where is Venaticus?" said a man.
	leeping one off," said another fel-low.
	angled up in the chains of some slave," suggested an-
	think it will be another warm day," salid a fellow.
	ood," said one of the men. "Then they may have the
	s down on the slave wagons."
	hen we dismantle," said a man, "you could always drift
	in the march and see Lady Slicila. She is a pretty little
	in her cage."
	hey are all pretty in chains and behind bars," said an-
	man.
	hate to think of them shoving an impaling spear up her
	said a man.
	know an impaling spear I'd like to shove up her ass,'
	nother man.
	ere was laughter.
	n may do with us what they wish, I thought. Our only
	e is to turn them against themselves, and use them for
	urposes. But in this we frustrate nature, that of men and
	rselves. How can we win, then? Perhaps, I thought, only
	sing. But these thoughts were more appropriate to Earth
	Gor. It did not seem possible to turn the men of Gor
	st themselves. Perhaps they were less simple than the
 Earth, or more simple, more basic and natural. They
t any rate, never permitted themselves to be tricked out
of thqir natural rights and powers. The conniving woman oil' Gor, she who would seek to conVol and manipulate men, likely to soon find herself at the feet of her would-be vict1A_ naked, kiss-Ing them, locked in his collar.
		There seemed suddenly a storm of wings in the air, beard the
striking of tarn talons on the platform. Men, a St immediately, began to
work about the basket. I felt the b ket move as ropes were fastened,
on it and jerkcd tight. There was a tiny space between two folds of
the blanket, tbrou Which I could see, looking then through an opening
in th weaving of the basket. With two fingers I drew the blank more
together.
		"Your face is smeared with lipstick," said a man, "and'y stink of
slaves and paga."
"I cannot explain that," said a fellow, as though puzzle
"for all night I have rested comfortably in the tent of
cargo riders."
		"The company will not be pleased," said a fellow. "if you slept a wink last night I am a purple urt."
		"It is lucky for you then," said the newcomer, concerned "that indeed I neglected to slumber."
"Are you in a condition to fly?," asked a man.
"I shall sleep in the saddle," said the man.
"You have a long flight, of several stages," said a man.
		"I shall be well rested then by the time of my arrival Ar," said the newcomer.
		"I am sure the paga slaves will be pleased," said a ra "all several hundred of them."
"Do not neglect to fasten your safety strap," said a man.
		"I shall do so, unless perhaps I chance to fall asleep fir the newcomer assured the fellow.
"What is that sound?" asked a man.
	"It sounds like an alarm bar, back in the south part of
camp," said a man.
"I wonder what is wrong," said another.
	"Will I see Bemus in Ar, or Torquatus?" asked the ne I
comer.
'No, luckily for the paga slaves," said a man.
"It is an alarm bar," said a man, "clearly."
"I hear another, too, now," said a man.
"I wonder what is going on," said the newcomer.
i "You will rendezvous with us in ten days, on the south ,bank of the
Issus," said a man. "You will be bringing another sbipment of Ka-la-na
for the officers."
"I wonder what is going on," said the newcomer.
"You are late," said a man, with a rustle of papers.
		"I am never late," said the newcomer. "It is only that sometimes it
takes me longer to be on time than others."
"I bear other alarm bars, too, now," said a man.
"Do you t4ink the camp is under attack?" asked a man.
"No," said a man.
"It is probably a fire," said a man.
"I do not see any smoke," said a man.
		"Perhaps Lady Sheila has escaped," suggested a fellow, fightly.
		This suggestion was greeted with raucous laughter. The little vulo,
doubtless, was still safe in her cage.
		It is robably a fight between companies or platoons," said a mJr,
"probably over gambling or a slave."
"I think I will go see," said the newcomer.
"Into the saddlel" said a man.
"But a fightl" said the newcomer.
"Venaticus," cautioned the man.
"Very well," he said.
		"It must be important," said a man. "Hear the alarm bars low."
		"If it were only a fight, there would not be that many ilarni bars, said
a man. "Indeed, there probablv would not ~e any. It would not be
necessary to alarm the whole camp iver an incident of that sort."
"It is probably a drill," said a man.
"That is it," said another. "It must be a drill."
		Suddenly there was a storm of wings and the basket, a moient later,
was jerked forward, slipping along the leather
Uds and then, in another instant, taking my breath away for
n instant, it was lofted like the others high into the air.
brough tiny cracks between the woven fibers of the deep,
'urdy basket I could see the ground slipping away beneath
s. Wind seemed to tear through the fibers of the basket. I
!utched the blanket, it being torn in the wind, more closely
Jout me. The ropes and the basket creaked. The rider took
te tarn once about the camp, doubtless to satisfy his curios-
y. He could make out little, however, I suspected, from the
r. I could see men below moving about in the camp,
208 	John Norman
emerging from tents and such, but there seemed to be no clear
pattern to their activity. Certainly the camp was not under attack, nor
did there seem to be kny fire. The absence of a clear pattern to the
activity, too, suggested that a drill, or at least a general drill, was not
in
progress. Perhaps it was merely a testing of the crews of the alarm
bars. He then turned the tarn about and began to take his way toward
the northwest. I lay in the bottom of the basket. I pulled my legs up,
and pulled the blanket about me. I was cold. I hoped that I would not
freeze. I was frightened. I saw the carnp disapearing in the distance. Only faiutly now could I hear the ringing of the
alarm bars. The fiber of the basket would be temporarily imprinting its
pattern on my skin. I hoped that the ropes would hold.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. It shook me, gently. I could also feel
the warm sun on my back. There was grass under my belly. I had
been awakened on an incline. There was muddy water about my feet.
	I had been three days the unsuspected guest of. the tarns-
man from the camp of Miles of Argentum. On the first two
nights he had camped in the open. On the first night I had
crept forth and, from his pack, after he was asleep, stole
some meat and Sa-'rarna bread. I also took a drink frorn his
canteen. I partook sparingly in these things for fear of being
discovered. If he detected any tiny shortages in his supplies
perhaps he put them to the a - ccounts of straying vagrants. On
the second day I noticed, to my uneasiness, more dwellings
below us. Too, I noted more tended fields. On the second
night I stole fruit from an orchard and drank from a pool. I
decided to risk a third day in the basket, to put even more
hundreds of pasangs between me and Argentum and Cor-
cyrus. On this third day, however, to my dismay, I could see
roads below, and many dwellings and fields. We passed over, even, two
towns. On the third night, frightening me, he landed within. the palisade
of a fortified inn. The tarn basket was left within the palings of a
special enclosure within this general palisade. Now it was time, I knew,
to take my leave. Surely I was not interested in being delivered to Ar,
the very ally of Argentum, where, presumably, it would be impossible to
escape detection. I could not, however, to my consternation, climb the
palings of the enclosure or find a space between them io squeeze
thrmigh. I hid among the tarn baskets, of which there were several
there. When a new basket, that of a late arrival, unhitched from its tarn,
was being dragged within the palings from the landing area outside,
within the larger palisade, while it was being put in its numbered space,
I slipped out. I hid among garbage boxes behind the inn. No sleen
patrolled the inner yard, probably because of the danger to guests. I fed
from the garbage, ravenously. It had rained recently and there was
water in various disc-arded containers and lids. I drank greedily.
Muchly did I envy the people in the inn, with their viands and
beverages, their clean rooms, their clothing and warm beds. I envied
even the slaves that might be within. They, at least, were secure and
well fed. What had they to worry about, other than being pleasing to
their masters? I cried out, suddenly, softly, as the fur of a scurrying urt
brushed my leg. I crawled about the inn, keeping to the brush at its side.
I moved leaves out of the way with my hand. Leaves brushed my back.
Then I could see the main gate of the palisade. A wagon, drawn by a
tharlarion, was entering. It tipped to the left, its wheels sinking into the
ruts, on the left almost to the hubs, in the soft ground, from the rains.
The driver cracked the whip and called out to the tharlarion. "Do not
make so much noise," he was cautioned by the porter. "People are
sleeping." The porter then went to the tharlarion and pushing at it and
striking it, urged it forward. The great beast grunted and threw itself
forward, against the harness. The wagon was drawn through the gate,
water from the ruts dripping from its wheels. To my dismay I then saw
the porter close the gates and thrust the great beam across, through its
brackets, behind them. This he secured in place with a lock and key.
He then accompanied the teamster to the stables. I hurried forward and
ran to the gate. I felt under the palings of the gate. I began to dig there
in the ;softness of the ground, and in the muddy water pooled -n the ruts. I tried to thrust my body down, under the gate. There
	was not e . nough room. I heard the creaking of another
	wagon, this one coming about the inn. I hid back in bushesto
	the side. In moments the porter had returned to the gate.
	I was in misery. I could not slip under the gate, or dig out un-
	der it, if the porter was there. He was a man and would sim-
	ply stop me, and capture me. I did not know when, or if,
	another wagon would arrive before daylight, one that might
	take the porter again from his post, giving me time to dig out
	under the gate. Risking much I slipped back to the enclosure
	where the tarn baskets were. Xs I feared, it was now once
	more locked. I hurried back about the inn. Thle porter was
	engaged in a discussion, and not a particularly aimiable one,
	with the driver. The driver had apparently criticized the por-
	ter for not being at the gate, and the porter, in response, was
	being officiously careful about checking the driver's ostrakon
	of payment. "I am not sure that is the mark of Leucippus,"
	said the porter. "It does not look much like his mark."
	"Awaken him, then," said the driver "and certify that it is
	so." "I do not care to awaken him at this Ahn." "I am to be
	on the road by dawn." "You will have to wait." "I do not
	have time to wait!" In the end the porter opened the gate-and
	let the man proceed. By that time I was in the back of the
	wagon. An Ahn or so later, when it was nearly dawn, I eased
	myself silently from the back of the wagon and crouched
	down on the road. It continued on its way. I then left the
	road and ran across the fields.
		"Are you awake?" asked a voice.
		The hand on my shoulder shook me again, again 		gently.
		My body stiffened. "Yes," I whispered.
		I lay on the slope of a ditch, as it ascended to a road.
	There was a trickle of water at my feet. The grass was very
	green here, because of the water.
		When I had left the wagon, by means of which I bad
	accomplished my escape from the inn, I had fled across the
	fields. I had run and walked until perhaps noon, and bad
	then, fearful of discovery, hidden near a small pool in a brake
	of ferns until nightfall. I had washed in the pool and
	drunk from it. I had set out again in the moonlight. I had
	eaten almost nothing and I was terribly hungry. I bad been
	afield for only an Ahn or so when the winds had risen and
	clouds had obscured the moons. Rain had begun to fall, as it
apparently had the night before. I stumbled on through the
darkness, my legs lashed to the thighs by the knives of the
wind-whipped grass. I soon grew weak and exhausted. I
sought a dwelling, or a road, which I might follow to a dwell-
ing, that I might there, like an urt, skulk about and, as at the
inn, piteously seek some sustenance from their refuse. Twice
I fainted, probably frorn hunger. The second time I recovered
consciousness the storm had worsened and the sky was burst-
ing with lightning and thunder. As I crouched in the grass I
saw, in a valley below me, in a flash of lightning, like a wet
stone ribbon, a road. I crawled toward it. At its edge there
was a deep ditch. Had I not been crawling, I might, in the
darkness, between flashes of lightning, have come on the
ditch unawares and fallen into it. As it was I lowered myself
down its slope with the intention of then climbing the other
side and attaining the surface of the road. In the bottom of
the ditch there was, at that time, a flow of water some six
inches deep, from the storm. I knelt in this, the cold fluid
rushing about my legs, and, cupping my hands, drank from
it. I then started to climb toward the road. I was suddenly
frightened. The incline was steeper than I had anticipated. I
slipped back, into the water. I tried again, inching myself up-
ward. Grass pulled out of the slope, clutched in my hands. I
slipped back. I was weak and miserable. I waded at the bot-
toni of (lie ditch and, in two or three places, again tried to
climb out of it. I was not successful. The storm, meanwhile,
had subsided. I could now see the moons. In the moonlight I
found an ascent which 1, though with difficulty, could man-
age. Gasping, holding at the grass, inching my way upward, I
drew my body from the grass to the road. I looked at the
road, from my belly. I felt out with my hands. It seemed con-
structed of large, square stones. It was not an ordinary road,
I thought. Like most Gorean roads, however, a single pair of
ruts marked its center. Gorean vehicles, commonly slow mov-
ing, tend to keep to the center of a road, except in passing.
	In the distance I heard the sound of bells, harness bells. It
might be a wagon, or a set of wagons, which had pulled to
the side of the road during the storm and now, with the pass-
ing of the storm, had resumed its journey. It must be near
morning, I thought, that they are on the road. Gorean roads
are seldom traveled at night. The bells were coming closer. I
moaned and slid back from the road, again into the ditch. I
slipped back a yard or so down the grassy slope, and then,
clinging to grass, held my position. I could not see the sur-
face of the road. I would wait here unti) the wagons bad
passed. They would not, I was sure, at night, in the moonlight
and shadows, detect my presence. I clung there until the first
wagon had passed. I could bear others approaching, too. I let
myself slip down further in the ditch. Itmust not be discov-
ered. I put my cheek against the wet grass. I was very tired.
It was a good hiding place, the ditch. In the darkness, in the
moonlight and shadows, I would not be detected. I was safe.
I dreaded the climb again to the surface of the 'road. The
ditch was so steep. I did not understand the need for such a
ditch at the side of the road. But I was safe now. There were
other wagons, too, coming. There must be many wagons. I
must wait. I would rest, just a little bit. It would not hurt to	3
close my eyes, only for a moment. I was so hungry. I was so
tired. I was so miserable. I would rest, just for a little bit. I
would close my eyes, only for a moment.
	"What are you doing here?" asked a voice.
	"I am a free woman," I said.
	I lay on the incline, the grass under my belly. It was warm
now. The sun felt hot on my back. Muddy water was about
my feet. A man was behind me. At least one other, I could
hear him moving about, was above and in front of me, up on
the surface of the road.
	"I was attacked by bandits," I said. "They took my
clothes."
	"Hold still," said the voice behind me.	a
	I heard the clink of a chain.
	My body stiffened, my fingers clutched at the grass.
	A chain was looped twice about my neck and padlocked
	shut.
	"What are you doing?" I whispered.
	"Hold still," said the voice.
	The chain was then taken under my body and down to my
ankles. My ankles were crossed and the chain was looped
thrice about them, holding them closely together. Another
padlock then, its tongue passing through links of the chain,
was snapped shut. My ankles were now chained tightly to-
gether. I could not even uncross them. It is common to run a
neck chain to the ankles in front of a woman's body, rather
than behind it. In this fashion any stress on the chain is borne
by the back of her neck rather than her throat. It is also re-
	guarded as a more aesthetic chaining arrangement than its opposite, the neck chain, for example, with its linearity, and its
	turdy, inflexible links, affording a striking contrast with the
	oftnesses, the beauties, of her lovely bosom. This arrange-
nent is also favored for its psychological effect on the
voman. As she feels the chain more often on her body in this
	rrangement, brushing her, for example, or lying upon her,	J
	he is less likely to forget that she is wearing it. It helps her
3 keep clearly in mind that she is chained. It reminds her,
	rainatically and frequently, of that fact.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "I am a free woman!"
"Flow is it, did you say," asked the man behind me, "that
	on are unclothed?"
"Bandits took my clothes!" I said.
"And left you?" he asked.
	"Yes," I said.
"If it had been up to me," said the fellow behind me, "I
	think I would have taken you along and left the clothes."
I was silent.
"I suppose," he said, pleasantly enough, "they might have
	had poor of eyesight, or perhaps it was just very dark."
I did not speak.
"What is your Home Stone?" he asked.
I thought quickly. I did not want to identify myself with
	orcyrus, of course, or any cities or towns in that area, even
	rgenturn. Too, I knew we had flown northwest. I then took,
	most out of the air, a city far to the north, one I had heard
	f but one, unfortunately, that I knew little about. The name
	id been mentioned, I did recall, on the tarn platform, in the
	imp of Miles of Argentum. Perhaps that is what suggested it
My mind.
"That of Lydius," I said.
"What is the location of Lydius?" he asked.
"North," I said. "North."
"And where in the north?" he asked.
I was silent.
"On what lake does Lydius lie?" he asked.'
"I do not know," I said.
"It does not lie on a lake," he said.
"Of course not," I said.
"On what river does it lie?" he asked.
"It doesn't lie on a river," I siiid.
"It is on the Laurius," he said.
I was silent.
"What is the first major town east of Lydius?" he asked.
"I don't remember," I said.
"Vonda," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"No," he said. "Vonda is on the Olvi. It is Laura."
"Yes," I said, sick and hungry, chained.
		"You are certain that you are a free woman?" asked the man.
"Yes," I said.
"Where is your escort, your guards?" be asked.
"I was traveling alone," I said.
"That is unusual for a free woman," he said.
I was silent.
"What were you doing on this road?" he asked.
"Traveling," I said. "Visiting."
		"And where did you think you were going?" asked the man.
		"I don't know," I sobbed. I did not even know what towns lay
along this road. I did not even know where I was.
		"Look here," said the fellow. He turned me about. I saw he was a
brawny, blond youth. He did not seeni angry or cruel. He crouched
down and, with one finger, near the bottom of the ditch, made a
precise marking, or drawing, in the mud.
"N~Ihat letter is that?" he asked.
"I do not know," I said.
"Al-ka," he said.
661 cannot read," I said.
"Most free women can read," he said.
641 was not taught," I said.
"You have a luscious body," he said.
"Please unchain me," I said.
"It has delicious slave curves," he said.
"Unchain me, please," I begged.
		"Your body does not suggest that it is the body of a free woman,"
he said. "It suggests, rather, that it is the body of a natural slave."
		"I beg to be unchained," I said. "You can see that I am a free
woman. My body is unbranded. I do not wear a collarl"
f
		"Some masters," said he, "are so foolish as not to brand and collar their women."
"That would be stupid," I said.
"I think so," lie said.
		"So you can see, then," I said, "that 1, uncollared, unbranded, must be free."
"Not necessarily," he smiled.
"Unchain me," I begged.
"What is your name?" he asked.
		"Lita," I said. I remembered this name from the time that Drusus Rencius had taken me to the house of Kliomenes in Corcyrus. It was
the name he had chosen for me there, Lady Lita, of Corcyrus. It had
sprung into my mind probably because of that trip. Too, I recalled that
both Publius and Drusus Rencius had thought that it would be a good
name for me.
		Both of the men then laughed, he standing now before me as I sat
on the bank, and he, who was apparently alone, on the surface of the
road.
"What is wrong?" I asked.
"That is a slave name," he said.
"Nol" I said.
		"It is a common slave name," he said. "Indeed, it is one of the
names popular with the masters for unusually juicy and helpless
slaves."
"It is also the name of some free women," I said.
"It is possible, I suppose," said the man.
"Please unchain me," I begged.
"Lita," said the man.
"Lady Lita," I said.
"Lita," said he.
I looked at him in misery.
		"It seems clear you are a slave, Lita," he said. "You are naked. You
apparently have no Home Stone. You do not know where you are.
You cannot even read. Your name is even that of a slave."
"Nol" I said.
		"But it is," he said. "Therefore, since it seems clear that you are a
runaway slave, you will henceforth address us as 'Master."'
"Please, no," I said.
		"If you are actually a free woman, as you claim," he said, no great
harm will be done.
"You spoke to me," she said.
		"Yes," I said. "Forgive me, kind lady. No one has read
	me the legend posted ovet my head. I beg you to do so."
		She lifted her robes ai - id climbed to the cement platform.
	She was about two inches taller than 1. She stood then before
	me.
		"You spoke to me," she said.		"Yes, kind lady," I said.
		"Where you come from," she said, "do slaves not address
	free women as 'Mistress'?"
		"I am a free woman, too," I said. "I am not a slave."
		"Naked, lying slave!" hissed the woman.
			I beg you for kindness," I said. "Even if I were a slave,
	which I am not, we share the same sex. We are both
	women."
		"I am a woman," she said. "You are an animal."
		"Take pity on me," I said. "We have in common at least
	that we are females."
		"Do not dare to see me in terms of such a denominator,"
	she said. "It is not my fault that I share a sex with she-sleen
	and she-tarsks, and, lower than either, with she-slaves."
		"I am not a slave," I said. "I am free. I am not collared. I
	am not branded!"
		"If I owned you," she snapped, "you would soon be col-
	lared and branded, and then you would be sent to the stables
	or scullery, where you belongl"
			Forgive me," I said.
		"Forgive you, what?" she said. in fury.
			-Mistress!" I said.
		"I know your type," she said, in fury. "You are the sort
	for whom my companion forsakes me! You are the sort he
	runs panting after in the taverns, the sort whose bodies their
	masters sell for the price of a drinkl"
		"No," I said. "Nol"
		"You are the sort of woman who likes men, aren't you?"
	she said.
		"No, Mistress," I cried. "No! No!"
		"Why aren't ~you kneeling, Slut?" she asked.
		"I'm chained," I cried. "I can't!"
		"Kneel," ordered the free woman, coldly.
		"I can't, Mistress!" I wept. I let myself hang from the
	shackles, my knees bent, piteously.
		"You should not have accosted a free woman," she said. She then removed her gloves and, with them, struck me across the face. Tears sprang to my eyes.
		"You must also address her as 'Mistress,"' she said. I was then struck again.
		"You have denied your slavery," she said. "You have dared to
compare yourself with me, insulting me by calling to my attention that
we are both females. You have denied that you arc of the category of
the sensuous slut! You have denied, lyingly, that you are eager to serve
menl" She then struck me four times. "Do you think I cannot see what
you are?" she asked. "Do you think it is unclear to anyone who looks
upon you? Do you think I am stupid? Anyone could see that you are a
slavel It is obviousl" Then she lashed me across the face and mouth
with her gloves, several times. It did not really hurt so much, but it did
sting, and, of course, it was terribly humiliating. I began to cry. "And
you did not kneel!" she cried. She struck me twice again. I hung in the
shackles, sobbing. I was most afraid that she might call the Archon's
man. He might, if requested, I feared, use a whip on me. She 4hen,
angrily, withdrew from the platform and
resumed her journey down the street.
"What was that all about?" asked the Archon's man.
		"I spoke to her, Master," I said. I caUed him."Master" for he, like
the young men who had caught me at the edge of the Viktel Aria, had
made it clear to me that I was to address , whether I was free or
not, with a slave's respect.
"But she is a free woman," he observed.
		"Yes, Master," I said. With a rustle of chain I again got my feet
under me.
"It was foolish of you," he said.
"Yes, Master," I sobbed.
"Your face is red," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
		Later in t'.e afternoon, after I bad been fed and watered, landing in
the shackles, I decided to once again essay the de.iplicrment of the
legend on the post. This time, having earned my lesson, I would not
trouble a free woman in the natter. I knew that I was pretty and I had
little doubt, even bough I was tired and my arms were now sore-, that,
chained ~s I was, displayed as I was, my attractions might be of
interst to passing males. Men of Earth, I knew, would often trive to
please even a scantily clad woman, for example, one
wearing a sun suit or a bathing suit. I, for example, bad had this
experience on summer weekends and at the beach.
		"Sir, Masterl" I called to a man. He seemcd a friendly enough
looking fellow.
		He approached me, climbing to the platform. "Yes?" be inquired.
		"I am a free woman," I said, "but nonelteless I will call you 'Master.'
" I hoped that this wodld flatter bim.
"Whatever you wish," he said.
		"And you are surely a very handsome Master," I said. He was, as a
matter of fact, very handsome. On the other hand, I was out to get my
way. Men, incidentally, will believe anything they are told.
"Why, thank you," he said.
"There is a legend over my head," I said.
"Yes, there is," he agreed.
"Can you read it?" I wheedled.
"Why, yes," he said. "I can."
		"Please, please," I wheedled. "Please read it for little Lita." I referred to myself by this name. It was the name I had given to the two
young men on the road, and also, i . only to be consistent, to the
Archon's man. On the other hand I did not mind the name. I rather
liked it. It excited me.
		"It says," said the man, "'Whip me, if I speak without permission.'
I turned white
He smiled.
"It does not really say that, does it?" I asked, frightened.
"No," he said.
"Please tell me what it says," I said.
		"We shall assume, for purposes of this discussion, that you are a slave," he said.
"Very well, Master," I said, puzzled.
		"Do you believe that slaves should serve free persons," he asked, "or that free persons should serve slaves."
		"I believe it is the slaves who should serve the free persons," I said,
hastily, "not the other way around." I certainly did not want to have the flesh whipped off my bones.
		"And if I read that legend for you," he said, "I would be serving you, wouldn't IT'
"Yes, Master," I said.
"And you would not want that, would you?" he asked.
"No," I said.
		"Then," he said, "you do not want me to read the legend for you."
"No, Master," I said, miserably.
"Very well," He said and, Chuckling, left.
		I shook the cbains in frustration. He seemed to be a very kind man.
If I had not tried to be so clever, if I had not tried to trick him, he
probably would have read the legend for me.
I watched him walking off.
		Ile had not seemed eager, even desperate to please me, in spite of
the fact that I was naked. I then realized, with a strange feeling deep
within me, something akin to fear and excitement, that on this world it
was the naked women, or scantily clad women, women who would
be slaves, or would be presumed to be slaves, women such as 1, who
must serve and please the men. This was not Earth; it was Gor.
"Oh, Ladyl" I calied. "Please, Lady!"
		The slave, alone, in the brief, sleeveless red tunic, with sides split to
the waist, turned, to see whom I might be addressing.
"Lady!" I called to her.
"I am not a lady," she said. "I am a slave."
		"Please," I said. "Can you read the legend posted over my head?"
"Cannot you read?" she asked.
		"No," I said. I looked at her. She was nicely curved, with brown hair and eyes. She wore a close-fltting steel collar.
		"I am sorry," she said. "I cannot either. I was never taught." She hen sped on her way.
"What is going on?" asked the Archon's man.
"Nothing, Master," I said.
		"If you delay slaves in their errands, and they are late," he said,
"they might be whipped."
"I ain sorry, Master," I said.
"Why diid you delay her?" he asked.
		"I wanted her to read the sign posted over my head," I said.
"Why didn't you ask me?" he asked.
		"I was afraid," I said. "You did not read it to me. I thought then
perhaps you did not want me to know what it said."
	"And, without determining whether that was true or not," he said, "you nonetheless sought, perhaps thereby circumenting. my will, to
determine its contents?"
"Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Masterl"
		"You should be whipped," he saidr. He unclipped the coiled slave whip from his belt.
"I am a free woman!" I told him.
"You have a slave's body," he said.
"Even so, I am a free woman," I said.
		"Perhaps you are a free woman," he said. "It is hard to imagine a slave being so stupid."
"Do not whip me,," I begged.
		I saw him recoiling the blades of the whip. I viewed this action with unspeakable relief.
		He then thrust it before my face. "Lick it, and kiss it," he said.
"Please," I begged.
		"You will do so now," be said, "or after you have been beaten with it."
		I then reached my head forward and, delicately, licked and kissed the whip. He then replaced the stern, supple disciplinary device on his belt.
"Master," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Why did you not tell me what the sign said?" I asked.
		"I showed it to you," he said. "It did not occur to me that you could not read."
"But I cannot," I said. "Please tell me what it says!"
		"Not now, pretty Lita," he said. "Not now." He then walked away. I stomped with my right foot. I shook the chains, angrily. Tears came to my eyes. I was being frustrated, as though I might be a slave.
The afternoon wore on.
My body and arms began to ache miserably.
		From time to time one man or another in the crowd would pause to gaze on me. I usually looked away from them but, even so, it seemed I could sometimes sense their eyes on me, roving me with impunity. I
chained as I was, was exposed to their gaze as any stripped slave.
Sometimes they would come up to the platform, to examine me more
closely. The Archon's man, however, would not permit them to touch
my body or test my slave reflexes. Similarly, I was not required to
respond to certain sorts of commands, for example, to make "slave
lips," pursing my lips for kissing, or to
	writhe
	slowly before my viewers. It was still regarded as a theoretl*
KAJIRA OF GOR 	225
cal possibility, I gathered, that I might be free. "She is not for sale,"
the
Archon's man told one fellow. "Too bad," had said the fellow. "Not
now," had added the Archon's man. "Perhaps later," said the fellow.
"Perhaps," had agreed the Archon's man.
		It was late in the afternoon when, suddenly, my body stiffened in
terror. I put my head down, swiftly, trembling. I wanted to hide but, Of
Course, I was held perfectly where I was, exposed, helpless in the-
shackles.
He intist not have seen me! Fie imist not have seen mel
		I turned away a little, in the chains, as though merely to change my
position.
My heart was pounding in terror.
He, of all people!
		Surely he had not noticed me. Surely he had not seen me. He must
not have seen me!
		"Let the cbttrl be strippeJ," I bad said, imperiously, "and a sign be put
about his neck, proclaiming him a fraud. Then let him be marched
naked, before the spears of guards, through the great gate of
Corcyrus, not to be permitted to return before the second passage
hand!"
		But I could not run now. 1, helpless, naked, chained in place, was
being publicly displayed.
		A Corcyran merchant had brought charges agai~st him, a matter
having to do with a bowl, purportedly silver, but only plated, and one
bearing a forged mark, misrepresenting it as the work of the
silversmiths of Ar.
Surely he must now have passed by.
		Further inquiries had been made and it was found thathe had among
his goods a set of false weights.
He must now have gone. He mustl
		Too, it had been discovered that he had sold slave hair to the public,
representing it as that of free women.
I was safe. He must have gone by now.
		How pleased I was to have sentenced him to his bumiliaflon,
pronouncing the judgment of the Tatrix against himl How pleased I
was to have seen him dragged by guards from my august presence.
How splendid, too, to have men serving one, obeying one, in this
fashion! He had been an itinerant peddler, an obsequious, cringing,
ugly, small, vile man with a twisted body. Surely he was one of the
most detestable human beings I had ever seen.
I stiffened, again, in terror. Someone had joined me on the
226	John Norman
cement plaiform. I kept my head down. Then, as had hap-
pened two or three times before, I felt a thumb under my	T.,
chin. My head was pushed up.
	I found myself looking into the eyes of the peddler,
Speusippus of Turia.Speusippus stepped back and regarded me. I kept my headup, looking at him.
	He glanced up at the sign over my head. He could
doubtless read it.
"Sheila," said he, whispering in my ear. "You are Sheila,
trix of Corcyrusl"
"No," I whispered. "Nol"
"The office of the Archon will doubtless be pleased to ]cam
identity of its lovely prisoner," he said.
"Tbey will not believe it," I said.
'They wid conduct inquiries," he said, "with rather clear
sequences, I think, for yourself."
'Do not tell them, I beg you," I said. "They will take me
k to Argentum for impalementl"
le smiled.
'Please, do not tell them, Speusippus," I begged.
"Sir'?" he asked.
'Please, do not tell them, Sir," I begged.
'It is pleasant for cne such as I to be called sir by the Tatrix of
Corcyrus," he said.
'Please do not tell them," I begged, "--Sirl"
'Who are you supposed to be?" he asked.
'The Lady Lita, of Lydius," I said.
"Lita'?" he grinned. "That is a splendid name for you. ellent."
	trembled. That name, especially when not prefixed by dy', I felt,
somehow, did seem to have a certain rightness me; I wondered if,
in some sense, I was a "Lita," or, say, Tuka," or a "Lana," other
common names for slaves on r. Earth-girl names, too, incidentally,
are commonly used lave names on Gor, such as Jean, Joan,
Priscilla, Sally, orah, Lois, Sandra and Stacy. At any rate the
name did e me feel slightly uneasy, and excited, and rather like a
e. This was perhaps a function of its simplicity, loveliness'
femininity. I hardly dared speculate what I might feel if it were
actually put upon me and I were then to dis
er that, by a master's will, I had become "Lita." The c was
originally given to me, I recalled, by Drusus Ren
		put upon me as a part of my disguise, and for the pures of my
licensing, in the house of Kliomenes. I felt ientarily angry. The
beast must have known that it was a mon slave name.
Where were you caught?" be asked.
North of Venna," I said, "on the Viktel Aria."
Well," said Speusippus, "I think I will now call the Arn's man and
tell him who you are."
Please, do not, Sir," I begged.
		"Do you have friends who can vouch for you, that she is yours?"
		"I am from Turia," said Speusippus. "I am a stranger in this beautiful
city."
		"Things, then, are not so simple," said the Archon's man. "As you
can see she is not even collared or branded. She is claiming to be a
free woman."
"No, Master," I said.
		"Perhaps I could hold her for ten days," said the Archon's man, "and
then, if there are no other clairnant4, turn her over to you." Ule looked
at me. "What did you say?" he asked.
"I am not a free woman, Master," I said. "I am a slave.'
		"There are still problems," said the Archon's man. 'She will deny
that she is your slave."
		"No, Master," I said. "I am his." I almost choked on the words. Too,
the words themselves frightened me, terribly. I knew that I was lying,
of course, but still they frightened me. How fearful it would be, I
thought, to say* such words and know that they were true, that one
did belong, fully, to a man.
		"Do you admit that you are his slave?" the Archon's man asked me.
"Do you acknowledge that, and freely, and not under torture?"
"Yes, Master," I said. "I am his slave."
"Then you were lying to us before," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
He unclipped the whip from his belt.
		"No, no," smiled Speusippus. "That will notbe necessary. I am sure
that little Lita has learned her lesson. Haven't you, Lita?"
		"Yes, Master," I said. I twisted in the chains, making sure that the
Archon's man had returned the whip to his belt. He had done so, I
noted with relief.
		"You have not even had her branded and collared," said the
Archon's man. "If I were you I would see to these details promptly. If
she escapes from you again, you might not recover her so easily.
Someone else, having her properly marked and collared, might decide
to keep her."
		"I shall take all of these matters under the most serious
consideration," said Speusippus, nodding soberly.
		I smiled to myself. I saw that Speusippus had no intention of doing
anything so cruel as putting a brand on me or anything as degrading as
putting my neck in a collar. Too, he
had not let the Archon's man whip me. I saw that Speusippus would
treat me with lenience, kindness and defer e*nce. I saw that I had
nothing to fear from Speusippus. After all, I was a free woman, and the
Tatrix of Corcyrus.
		"Thank you, Master," I said, in relief, to the Archon's man, as he
released my wrists f rom the shackles. It felt so good to put my arms
down. I almost fell on the platform.
		"Poor little Lita," said Speusippbs, sympathetically. He patted me,
tenderly, on the shoulder. "This has been such a terrible experience for
you. But do not worry now, little Lita, It is over. I will take you away
with me now."
"Thank you, Master," I whimpered, playing my role.
		But then I felt my hands tied behind my back, with a wire-cored
cord. I was tied, and well.
		Then I was leashed like a dog, or less than a dog. It was a slave
leash. I was leashed like a slave.
"May I reimburse you for her keep?" inquired Speusippus.
		"No," said the Archon's man. "Such serVices'are furnished by the
city."
		"Splendid," said Speusippus. "Come along, Lita." I felt the tug of the
leash. I was leashed!
"Do not spoil her," cautioned the Archon's man.
		"We would not want to spoil you now, would we, Lita?" asked
Speusippus.
		"No, Master," I whispered. I shuddered. Gorean slaves, I suspected,
were seldom in any danger of being spoiled. They were commonly held
under disciplines of iron.
		I followed Speusippus down from the platform. I did not want the
leash to be pulled taut.
"Master," I said.
"Yes?" he said.
		"Can you read the sign that was posted over my head, please?"
		"Yes," said he. "It says, 'Who owns this slave? Who can identify
her?'
"That is all?" I said.
"Yes," he said.
		"Thank you, Master," I said. For so little I had been struck by the
free woman, and tricked and frustrated in the chains!
		He pulled me closer to him by the leash. I did not want to stand so
close to him.
		On the sign, it seemed, it had been presupposed that I was a slave.
To be sure, Gorean men tended to look upon me, it
seeemed, as though I belonged in that degraded category, or as though
it might, in fact, be mine.
		"Have no fear," grinned Speusippus. They are well satisled. From
their point of view the slave has been identified ind her owner has
been located. Indeed, he has even come wd claimed her."
"Yes, Master," I said.
		He then took up the slack in the leash until he held me, by he leash,
but inches from him.
		Speusippus," he said, whispering intimately to me, 'have the
Tatrix of Corcyrus naked and on a slave leash."
"Yes, Master," I said.
	"Say that word again," be whispered, "and more slowly,
ironouncedly and beautifully."
"Master," I said.
	"And she addresses me, Speusippus, the lowly peddler, as Master,"'
be said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
He turned about, slackening the leash, and I followed him.
	I was led through the streets. The people of Venna paid le little
attention. Such sights, I gathered, were not that ~ncommon in a
Goreart city, that of a naked, leashed slave in he care of her master.
But could they not see that I was not Tanded, that I was not collared?
But this seemed to make ttle difference. Clearly my status was either
bond or that of
captive. Indeed, perhaps I was being conducted even now
	the shop of a metal worker, there to be fiiarked and reDive, and
have locked upon me, measured and fitted, a jitable, inflexible,
identificatory circlet of bondage.
	I followed Speusippus of Turia through the streets of renna, even
through the great market square. I was naked, arefoot and bound. I
followed him whether I wished to or not. I was leashed.

		"Now we are alone, Lady Sheila," he said.
		He had turned from the door, after locking it and depositing the key in his pouch.
		I stood with my back against the wooden wall. I watched
	him put the pouch, on its strap, in a far corner of the room,
	with other articles. It was a small, bare, largely unfurnished
	room. It had a common wall with a small stable, beyond
	which	was a small stable yard. His tharlarion was in the
	stable,	and his wagon, outside, in the yard, chained. His
	goods, in various crates and trunks, had been brought into
	the small room. It was one of several such small dwellings,
	with attached stables and yards, in a line, habitations rented
	out to teamsters
			and itinerant merchants. It was on the south-
	ern outskirts of Venna.
		I had scrubbed down the tharlarion, cleaning and washing
	its	scales and claws. I had then, under his supervision,
	cleaned out its stable and brought in fresh greens for it to
	feed upon.
		After this he had taken me to the public trough where
	under his instructions, washed. We had then returned to the
	small dwelling in the complex where 1, over a small grill in
	the yard, cooking not allowed in the shacks, had cooked for
	him. He had thrown me one piece of meat. In front of some
	of the other shacks in the line, in the yards, I could see girls
	cooking for masters, too. They, of course, were clearly slaves.
	After I had cleaned the grill and washed the paraphernalia
	connected with his meal we had come indoors. He had now
	locked the door.
		I felt the roughness of the wall at my back.
			He opened a chest and drew forth, from somewhere within
	it, apparently from Under several other objects, a brief gray
	tunic, and threw it to me. I caught it, eagerly. I had not had
	clothing since shortly after my capture in Corcyrus. Even so
	tiny and despicable a scrap of clothing as a mere slave tunic,
I then realized, can be a precious treasure to a woman. He
sat down on a box, watching me, his hands on his knees,
across the room from me. Swiftly, elatedly, gratefully, I drew
	the tiny garment over my head. It was sleeveless, scandalous-
	ly short and its neckline plunged to my belly, but I wel-
	comed it as though it might have been the most splendid
	gown in the wardrobe of a Tatrix.
		"Now take it off," he said.
		Slowly, numbly, I took the garment off, and dropped it                              to the side.
		"Now kneel before me, Lady Sheila," he said.
		I dropped to my knees before him.
		"Open your knees," he said.
		"I arn a free woman," I protested.
		Then I saw his eyes, and opened my knees before him
		"Excellent, Lady Sheila," he said. "Now say,  Lady
	Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus, kneel naked, my knees open,
	before Speusippus of Turia.'
		"I, Lady Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus," I said, "kneel
	naked, my knees open, before Speusippus of Turia."
		"Excellent," lie said. "Do you remember sentencing me, in Corcyrus?"
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"You seemed very proud then," he said. "You do not seem so proud now."
		"No, Master," I said.
		"You are sorry for having sentenced me, aren't you?" he
	asked.
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"And you wish to atone for it, don't you?" he asked.
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"And I will see that you do so," lie said.
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"On your belly, Lady Sheila," he said. I lowered myself to my belly before him.
		"Do you wish to be taken to Argentum for impalement?" He asked.
		I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes wild. "No," I
	cried. "No!"
		"We are going to get along very well, aren't we?" he asked.
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"And we are going to get to know one another very -well,
	aren't we?" he asked.
		"Yes, Master," I sobbed.
		"You may now beg to please me," he said.
		"Whip me!" I begged him. "Enslav ' e me! Give me no
	choice! Do not make me do this of,my own will!"
		"Say," he said, `1, Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyr6s, naked and on my belly, of my own free will, beg to please Spensippus of
	Turia.' "
		"I, Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus," I said, "naked and on my belly, of my own free will, beg to please SPCLISiPPUS Of
	Turia."
		"'And as a slave,"' he added.
		"And as a slave," I sobbed.
		I lay there on the floor, sobbing, and, to my horror,
	watched him unroll wretched, stinking sleeping furs.
		He then removed his tunic and reclined on the furs,
	watching me, leaning on one elbow.
		"I do not even know how to please a man," I said, "let
	alone with the sensuous intimacies of a slave."
		"Have no fear," he said. "I know that you are an ignorant
	free woman."
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"But I shall expect you to show marked and rapid im-
	provement in these matters," he said.
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"If you do not," he said, "you will be punished."
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"You do not want to be punished, do you?" he asked.
		"No, Master," I said.
		"You will endeavor, then, to make rapid progress in the
	arts of intimacy, won't you, Lady Sheila?" he asked.
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		He then beckoned that I should approach him.
		"I am a virgin!" I cried.
"Excellent," he said. "Then, before the night is done you
	will be opened by Speusippus of Turia for the uses of men."
	I then, on my belly, sobbing, began to crawl toward him.
		"Stop," he said.
		I stopped, puzzled. My body was still on the floor. I had
	not yet even come to the edge of those stinking furs.
		"You are a free woman," he said, "and you have much to learn. We will begin with simple things."
"Master?" I asked.
		"Lie at my feet," he said, "and lick, and kiss and suck at them. When
you have managed to learn to do that properly, I will give you further instructions."
"Yes," I wept.
"Yes, what?" lie asked.
"Yes-Masterl" t sobbed.
		"You did not do badly, Lady Sheila," be said. "If I did not know better, I would have thought that you had had sometraining. Perhaps it is natural in a woman. Get in." He held open the lid of the large trunk.
I crawled into the large, deep trunk, and lay down in it, on my side,
with my legs drawn up.
"Did I please Master?" I asked.
"You speak like a slave," he sneered.
		"Forgive me, Master," I said. Interesting enough, and I hardly understood this, and it seemed almost incredible, I did, clearly, want him to find me pleasing.
"Are you hungry?" be asked.
		"Yes, Master," I said. For my supper I bad received only one piece of meat. It had been thrown to me, as though I might have been a dog.
		He went somewhere in the room and returned with a piece of dried meat. He dropped it into the trunk, near my f ace. I seized it in my hands.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
He was looking down into the trunk. I looked up at him.
		"If I had not been pleasing," I asked, "would you have given me this?"
"No," be said.
		I then realized that it was truly in the best interest of a female captive, or slave, to be pleasing. If she was not pleasing, and perhaps even quite pleasing, she might not be fed. By superb performances a girl might, I thought, encourage a master to believe that she was worth feeding, and, perhaps, even feeding well.
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked.
"What I please," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"In the morning we are going south," he said.
"Not to Ar!" I said.
"No," he said. "We will be turning west."
		He looked down at me, huddled in the trunk. I bit a little at the meat.
I was ravenously hungry.
"Were you given permission to feed?" he asked.
		"Forgive me, Master," I said. I hoped he would not take the food from me.
"What do you know?" he said. "You are only a stupid free
woman."
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	"You may feed," he said.
	"Thank you, Master," I said. I bit hungrily at the meat.
	"You eat like a starving slave," He said.
		"Forgive me, Master," I said. I then took smaller bites,
	bites perhaps somewhat more conformable to the dignity of a
	free woman, a lady and a Tatrix. Still, when one is naked
	and in a trunk, and half starved, it is difficult to eat with dig-
	nity. For most practical purposes, as he had treated me, even
	though technically I might be the Tatrix of Corcyrus, I was a
	half-starved slave.
		"I never thought to have the Tatrix of Corcyrus naked and in my trunk," he said.
		"Can I breathe in here, Master?" I asked.
		"There are air holes," he said. "You are not the first
	woman who has been in this trunk. To be sure, this is the
	first time it has ever held a Tatrix."
		"There is a blanket in here," I said. "Thank you, Master."
		"That is to keep the prettiness of its occupants f rom being bruised," he said. "The sweat and stink on it is from female
	slaves. It will serve for you as well, Lady Sheila. As it floored
	this trunk, serving as their kennel, so, too, it floors it now,
	when it serves as yours."
		"As Master wishes," I said.
			Do you remember in my trial," be asked, "the matter of he hair, how it was discovered that I might inadvertently
	have sold sonic slave hair as that of free wonicn7"
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"In the morning," he said, "I am going to obtain some hair from a free woman."
		"Master?" I asked.
		"In the morning," be said, "you are going to be shorn."
		"Master knows my secret," I said. "He has power over me.
	He may do with me what he wishes."
"And I shall," be said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
		"Sleep tight in your kennel, Lady Sheila, lofty Tatrix of Corcyrus," he said. "It is where you are going to be spending quite a few nights."
I looked up at him.
		"Pleasant dreams," said he, "Slut." Then he shut the heavy lid of the
trunk. In another moment I heard the turning of keys in two heavy
locks. Then he walked away.
		With the trunk shut I could see the air holes. Some of them, tiny
perforations, I could see through. I saw him extinguish the lamp. I then
heard him lie down on the sleeping furs. I then lay back in the trunk, my
legs pulled up. He bad called me "Slut." Was it my fault if I had
responded well to his instructions, if I had done what I was toldl I
wondered if I had done too well. Next time he would surely want at
least that, and probably a good deal more. I smiled to myself. He had
seemed surprised. 1, too, had been surprised. My tongue, and lips and
fingers, after a few Ehn, astounding me, had been ready and eager, and
quick, subtle and delicate. I was grateful for his instruction, and I sought
to improve upon iL Interestingly, I found that I was pleased to touch
him. To be sure, I was crude and unre-fined. I was uninformed in
subtleties of technique and I had too simple a sense of pacings and
rhythms, of when to make Iiiin, and nie, wait, of when to be languorous,
of when to be merciless. I was unaware, even, of the fuller possibilities
of sound, of speaking to him, and of vocalizing my emotions and
sensations in a variety of ways, adding a whole additional dimension to
the totality of the ex. perience. To be sure, some masters, at least at
some times, desire to be served, in so far as the girl can, in absolute
silence. "What has a slave to say?" they sometimes ask. Forced to
perform, humiliatingly, under the ban of silence, enforcing as it does the
male's total domination of her, can he very thrilling for a woman. Also, it
helps her to keep clearly in mind that it is a mere animal who is serving.
Also, I was unaware, more seriously, of many of the aesthetic and
psychological aspects of what could be done. I did not make the most of
the visual dimension, for example. Too, more naively, in my almost
exclusive concern with touching, a common error, incidentally, with new
slaves, I neglected by expressions and attitudes, to acknowledge and
confess the deeper realities of our relationship, that I was, in the final
analysis, his obedient captive. I was probably insufficiently alert, too, to
the deeper ranges of his desires, of what he wanted, fully, from a
woman. The master is to be served, of course, by the total slave. On the
other hand, within my limitations, and within the ranges within which I
was operating, I seemed to have an almost instinctual sense for what I
was doing. I seemed to have a natural sense of timing and a capacity to
anticipate, on many occasions, probably from subtle body cues, what fie
might. desire, or what inight please him. I discovered that I had talents I
did not know I had, and I found myself thrilled to apply them. Though it
was 1, in the, final analysis, who was in his total power, yet I found, to
my gratification and astonishment, that I could turn him into a twisting,
writhing slave under my touch. Then, angrily, he would seize me and
throw me beneath him, making me helpless. I was then well reminded
who, ultimately, was in command. I lay in the trunk, my legs pulled up.
He had called me a "slut." I did not really mind this. Indeed, something in
me relished it. I remembered how I had behaved in the furs. The
expression was, perhaps, I thought, with a shudder, quite appropriate.
Certainly. he had not permitted me to relate to hijrn, in the least, in the
inhibitory modalities of dignity and respect; accordingly, I had found
myself relating to him in a deep, real, primitive, sexual, natural,
biological
manner, in a manner certainly not that of a free woman, but rather of a
slave or a slut. Doubtless this was supposed to be a part of his
vengeance on me, but 1, nonetheless, found it quite fulfilling. Something
in me found it quite rewarding to relate to a man in this fashion. Too, I
found it stimulating knowing that if I did not please him he might punish
me.
		I bit on the meat he had dropped into the trunk and I had grasped. I
had not been punished. Rather, I had been rewarded.
		I was pleased at how well I baid done. I wondered if, as Publius, of
the house of Kionicnes in Corcyrus, bad thought, I might be' a natural
slave.
		I had discovered, at least, that I was a slut. I did not know if, beyond
that, I might also be a slave.
I chewed on the meat.
		I was no longer a virgin now. My virginity bad been taken from me
by Speusippus of Turia. When he had grown angry and would seize me
and throw me beneath hirn, making me helpless, he would then, without
further ado, imperiously,
with little regard for my feelings, have me. Well then was 1, held
helpless and penetrated, reminded who held the final power. In these
assaults on me, of which there had been three, I was firmly and fixedly
had. On the other hand, in spite, of his clear conquest of me, and my
physical and psychological acknowledgement of this fact, I did not feel
as much as I had thought I might. Perhaps this was because he bad
taken too little time with my body. On the other band, I was excited and
aroused, just from serving him. For example, my body had received him
swiftly and obediently. Too, I responded emotionally and
psychologically, in a rather global sense, to what he had done to me.
The last time, however, I had been frightened, for that time I had begun
to sense, deep within me, terrifying me, something that began to hint at
what might be the nature of a slave's yielding. I now lay in the trunk, in
the darkness, helpless, finishing the piece of meat. No longer was I a
virgin. I had now been opened, as the Goreans might say, for the uses
of men. Speusippus of Turia had done it to me. I finished the meat. I
was uneasy and restless in my small prison. I tried to thrust from my
mind the memory of that insinuative, incipient sensation, that
rudimentary physiological hint, that primitive, inchoate anticipation of
what it might be possible for a woman to feel. I must never permit, I
vowed, slave fires to be lit in my belly. I began to anticipate how
inutterably piteous and helpless they might make a woman. I rubbed my
thighs together. I did know I wanted to have more experiences of the
sort I had had tonight. Speusippus of Turia was despicable. He was
detestable. Why, then, I asked myself, was I hopeful that I had been
pleasing to him, why did I find myself, undeniably, wanting to be
pleasing to him? He was even going to shear me in the morning. I
wondered why he was going to do that. Perhaps it had to do with his
vengeance on me. Too, perhaps he was greedy, and was eager for
even the little bit of money my hair might bring him. On the other hand,
doubtless he did not want me to be recognized. Shearing would
presumably help to prevent that. It might.be a good idea to be sheared.
At any rate, the decision was his, not mine. He knew my secret. He
knew who I was. He, therefore, could do with me as he pleased.
Similarly 1, though a, free woman, because of this power he held over
me, must serve him as a slave. I clenched my fists, angrily, in the trunk.
I was suddenly almost overcome with the humiliation of what was being
done to
me. I was 'not a slave! I was a free woman! Yet I must serve him as a
slave! How rich, how glorious, was his vengeance on the Tatrix of
Corcyrus. In the morning, he would even shear her like a slut!
		I suddenly cried out with rage and struck at the insides of the trunk.
		Speusippus, awakened, came over to the trunk, and, frightening me,
beat on its top with something heavy, perhaps a staff or club.
		"Be silent in there," he said, "or I will pour two inches of water
through the air holes."
		"Yes, Master!" I cried. "Forgive me'. Master!" The sound of the
object beating on the trunk had been fearfully magnified inside it. I had
been almost overwhelmed by the sound. I had tried to cover my ears
with my hands. My ears still hurt.
		I now lay shuddering on the blanket in the bottom of the trunk. How
absurd my outburst had been.
		What a fool I was. Did I not know I was in his power? What did I
need to convince myself of that, a marked thigh and a band of steel,
which I could not remove, locked on my neck?
		I lay there on the blanket. I lifted it, briefly, about my face and nose.
I inhaled deeply. Yes, there was the smell of other bodies on it, bodies
probably as small, and soft and curved as mine. But those bodies, I
suspected, had worn brands and had bad their necks encircled with
collars. Slaves, doubtless, had lain here. Now it was my turn, that of the
Tatrix of CorCyrus. I smoothed out the blanket and paid close attention
to its texture and the feel of it against my cheek and body. The sweat
and odors which I might leave in this cloth, I thought, would probably
not differ much from those of my predecessors. I might be free but
here, in this conflnement, it would do me no good. Here 1, the Tatrix of
Corcyrus, doubtless to the amusement of Speusippus, would squirm, and
sweat and stink no differently from a slave. Indeed, from the point of
view of a new occupant, any lingering traces of my sojourn here would
doubtless be interpreted as indicating the earlier tenancy of merely
another slave, no different from others.
I felt the blanket lightly with my finger tips.
It excited me, somehow, that I lay where slaves had lain. I
touched my neck. I wondered what it would feel like to feel a collar
there, and know that I belonged to someone.
		I remembered serving Speusippus and then, quickly, I tried to force
from my mind the memory of that incipient sensation which, in his third
having of me, I had started to feel. I twisted in the trunk. I was
restless. I moaned.
I was the Tatrix of Corcyrusl
		And yet I had been worked like a slave, and used like a slave, and
had served as a slave!
		I had been degraded and humiliated. I was a free woman. I was
not a slave! I was not a slavel
		I remembered the sensation I had begun to feel. I moaned, from
somewhere deep within me.
		I touched the inside of the front side of the trunk with my finger tips.
I had done this on a thought. Sure enough, as I had thought might be
the case, I felt there the furrowing of fingernails. I then lay back in the
trunk, on my back, my knees up. I had heard of such things. The marks
did not seem to be connected with any desperate effort at escape.
They seemed more like the helpless scratchings of a woman in
frustration. One or more women, I suspected, at one or more times in
the past, had crouched inside this trunk scratching at its interior wall,
perhaps whining to be released, [hat they might serve the pleasure of
Speusippus of Turia. Row horrifying to be so much at the mercy of
nien, I hought.
	I then, in terror, tried to force the memory of that rudinentary
sensation, that merest hint of a sensation, from my nind.
I am not a slave!" I told myself. "I am not a slavel"
J lay then again on my side on the blanket. I hoped that
~peusippus was not displeased with me. I must try to please dm
better, I thought.
		I knelt on a flat rock near the side of a small stream, pounding
and rinsing a tunic. This one belonged to Speusippus. There -were
other girls, too, along the banks of the stream. It was a campsite about
twenty pasangs west of the Viktel Aria. There were several wagons
back from the stream, including that of Speusippus. Two slave girls,
naked, stood downstream, splashing and pouring water on themselves,
washing. I rinsed the tunic of Speusippus and took up another, one of
several which were thrown there, beside me. He had, as at the
previous campsite, volunteered my services as a laundress generally to
men who did not have slaves with them. For my services he received
small gratuities, such as tarsk bits and swigs of paga. It amused him
putting me, the Tatrix of Corcyrus, to work in this fashion. He did not,
interestingly enough, similarly make me available for more general
services. Had he done so, I would have been obedient
and dutiful.
		"Your master is a beast, Lita," called a girl down the way, picking up her laundry. "You will never be finished."
"I will finish," I laughed, dipping and rinsing another tunic.
She then went her way.
		I was pleased that we were no longer traveling south on. the Viktcl
Aria. Last night I had begged Speusippus on my knees not to take ine
to Ar. He had seen how terrified I was to go to Ar. "I will not take you
to Ar," he said. He had then permitted me to lick and kiss his feet in
geatitude.
This morning we had turned west off the Viktel Aria.
		Five days now I had been in the charge of Speusippus of Turia.
Interestingly enough, he had not made intimate use of me since the first
night in the shack. I had stayed rather close to him, when possible,
particularly after my first full day in 242
KAJIRA OF GOR 	243
his power. I sometimes brushed against him, or touched him, seemingly
inadvertently. Yesterday I had knelt behind him and licked at the back
of his knee, then looked up at him. But he bad only walked angrily
away. "Remember that you are the Tatrix of Corcyrus, and not a
slave," he had later said to me,, when I was humbly serving him his
supper. "Yes, Master," I had said, lowering my head, as a slave. But
surely, except in the modalities of intimacy, except in the forcings from
me of helpless yieldings, and such, he had dealt with me as a slave. He
had even made me do slave exercises, that my body might be as
shapely, firmed and vital as that of a slave. I bad been treated as a
slave, worked as a slave and even abused as a slave. Ile cuffed me
when it pleased him. Once I had even seen him toying with a whip. I
then redoubled my efforts to be pleasing to him. It must have amused
him to see the-Tatrix of Corcyrus so zealous to please him, so much in
his power. But, except for the first night, he had not put me to his
intimate pleasures. How fortunate that was for me, I thought. How
lucky I am! Then, at night, I would sometimes moan and whimper,
locked in the trunk, kept now in his wagon.
		"Greetings, Lita," said a girl, coming with some laundry, to kneel
down near me.
		"Greetings, Tina," I said. She was a curvaceous little brute, owned
by Lactantius, a teamster from Ar's Station. Recently they had been
coming north from Ar; then they, too, had turned west. I had met her
earlier, around supper time, back among the wagons. She, like some of
the other slaves, inifially, had been frightened of me. I was not branded
and collared. Might I be free? I had assured them, however, lying well,
I thought, that 1, too, was only a slave. It was only that my Master had
not yet seen fit to collar and brand me. Somewhat to my surprise they,
looking at me, and once assured of my bond status, seemed to find no
difficulty whatsoever in accepting the premise that I was indeed a
slave. To them, slaves themselves, I looked like a slave. Looking at
me, I realized, and somewhat to my consternation, they saw me easily,
unquestioningly, naturally, and obviously, as a slave. "I knew even
before I was told," had said one of the girls. "You could see it." How
amusing I had later thought, irritatedly, that they could not tell the
difference between me and them. Surely to a discerning eye it must be
clear that I was free,
and they bond. How stupid they were. But then, of courseq they
were only slaves.
		"Your master is surely one of the ugliest men I have ever seen," said
Tina.
		"He is not so bad," I said, lifting a tunic, dripping, from the water.
		"How your skin must crawl when he forces you to his intimate
service," she said, dipping a tunic in the water.
		"I do not think his whip would permit that," I said, wringing out the
tunic.
"It must be horrifying to have to serve him," she said.
"No," I said. "Not really."
"He is not bad?" she asked.
		"No," I said. Surely he had been strong with me, and had made me
obey him well.
		"I suppose there could be some pleasure in being for serve, and
totally, such a twisted, despicable little brute," she said, "the domination
of you, the disregard of your will and preferences, the reminding of
your femaleness that it is enslaved, that it must do what it is told, that
it
must, no matter what be pleasing, and perfectly so, to the master."
		"He is not really that bad," I said, "really." I did not see any reason
to tell her that I had, yesterday, knelt behind him and licked at the back
of his knees, begging his touch. Similarly I did not see any reason to tell
her that it had been denied to me.
		"Mat is interesting," said Tina. "It is sometimes so hard to tell about
a master."
"Yes," I said.
We then continued our work.
		I wore the brief gray tunic which Speusippus had let me put on, and
had then ordered me to remove, the first night in the shack. My ankles
were chained; some ten inches of chain separated them; the chain was
fastened on them by means of two padlocks. I was the only girt in
camp, as far as I knew, who was shackled. During the day, when the
wagon was moving, my ankles were not shackled. Then, however, he
would chain my wrists, a chain running from them then to the back of
the wagon. I would walk then, generally, behind the wagon, chained to
it. ne road was fairly well traveled. Today, lifting my chained wrists, I
had waved to the girls in an open slave wagon. Individual neck chains
went to a common chain in the wagon. Interestingly enough, they, too,
were
sheared. Sometimes I would sneak a ride in the back of the wagon.
Then I no longer did this. lie caught me once there and informed me
that if I did this again I would be punished. Thereafter I rode in the
back of the wagon only when I had received his permission, generally
after begging for it. This permission, however, he was usually lenient in
granting. It was almost as though he did not wish me to be exhausted.
It was almost as though he wanted to keep me fresh, almost as though
lie intended to deliver me somewhere.
		I wrting out another tunic ajid placed it behind me, on the rocks.
It was hot and I rubbed my hand back over my head,	~j
feeling there. the short, bristly stubble of hair. As be bad
promised, he had, on the first morning of my captivity,
sheared me.
		'41,actantius," said Tina, "is merciless with me. In his chains he
makes me kick and scream with pleasure."
"That is nice," I said.
		"Does your master force slave yieldings from you?" she asked.
		"He does with me what be pleases," I said. "He is the master. I am
the slave." I was -not even sure what slave yieldings were. I gathered
they might be some peculiarly helpless form of orgasm.
		I looked to, the side, to a small pool of water, wherein I could see
my face reflected. I again touched my head, feeling the short stubble
of hair there. He had sheared me very closely, to within perhaps a
quarter inch of my skin. In the days since the shearing the hair had not
appreciably lengthened. I wondered if he would permit my hair to grow
out, perhaps to cut it again in a few months, to add more of it to his
stock, or if he would, perhaps for his amusement, or tokeep my identity
a better secret, keep me closely sheared. The decision, of course, was
his. I was to him, in effect, as his slave.
		I wondered if the shortness of my hair, the result of the shearing,
made me less attractive to Speusippus. I wondered ff that were why
he had not snapped his fingers and commanded me to his pleasure.
"Am I ugly, Tina?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"My hair?" I asked.
"It wi.11 grow back," she said.
"Do you think any man could want me, as I am?" I asked.
		"Surely you have seen the teamsters looking at your ass?" she said.
"No!" I said.
"You have a pretty ass," she said.
"Thank you," I said.
		"You are very pretty as a whole," she said. "You have a curvaceous
figure, though a little'short, and a lovely face. Have no fear. You would
m-ake a nice armful for a man. You arc a piece of well-curved slave
meat. You are a tasty' pudding."
		"Thank you," I said. How scandalized I was to hear these thingsl I
was not used to hearing myself spoken about in terms of the graphic
simplicities often applied to slaves. To be sure, she did not know that I
was not a slave. Tasty pudding, indeedl I wondered if I were a tasty
pudding. Perhaps, I thought. I did know I was small and curvaceous,
and could easily be picked up by men, and carried about, and, if they
wished, overpowered and put to their purposes. Perhaps to them, small
and helpless, and desirable, I did look like a tasty
V,	pudding. Thinking of myself in those terms made me feel
weak, vulnerable and excited.
"Your master is not contenting you, is he?" asked Tina.
"No," I said.
"Have you displeased him?" she asked.
"I have tried not to," I said.
"Have you begged?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. Surely, in licking at him, as I had, I had begged for his touch. "But he has scorned me."
		"Interesting," said Tina. "Are you so unskilled, so inert, so like a free woman that you are not even worth having?"
"I do not think so," I said.
		"I do not understand it," she said. "Surely be wants you to become more of a slave and not less of a slave."
		"That is perhaps it," I said, frightened. I recalled his words to me at
supper yesterday evening. "Remember that you are the Tatrix of
Corcyrus, and not a slave," he had said.
"What?" she asked.
		"He may want to keep me more like a free woman," I said.
		"Why would he want to do that?" she asked. "That would be stupid, since you are a slave."
"He has not branded me, or collared me," I pointed out.
That he had not done these things I had hitherto supposed was merely
in accord with his avowed purposes of shaming and humiliating me,
making me serve as a slave in spite of the fact that I was free. But
now, I feared, these omissions might have a more complex motivation.
		"If he does not want you," she said, "why does he not simply sell
you?"
"He may want me," I whispered, "at least for a time."
		"lie does not seem eager to part with you," she said. "He even has
your ankles chained."
		"Yes," I said. I was being kept, I now realized, under an unusual
security. During the day my wrists Vvere usually chained, often even
to the wagon. In the evening, at campsites, as I did now, I wore ankle
chains. At night, my tunic removed, he would lock me in what served
as my kennel, the trunk.
		"Does he rent you out?" asked Tina. "Sometimes a man can get an offer on a girl that way."
"No," I whispered.
"The whole matter seems very puzzling," said Tina.
"Yes," I said.
		I was suddenly becoming terrified. Speusippus, I feared, however
absurdly, sensed that.1 might be a slave. He seemed concerned, then,
apparently, that I not be permitted to enter too dceply into my slavery.
But, why not? Most men certainly do not interfere with the natural
growth, the progress and developinctit of a woman in her bondage.
Most men, at least of Gor, permit her to achieve this self-fulfillment;
some of them, within certain latitudes of discipline, even permit her to
proceed largely at her own pace, gradually coming to understand,
incontrovertibly, that she, loving and obedient, has always been a slave
to the core.
		I was not a slave, of coursel But, if I happened to be, why was
Spcusippus acting as be was? I doubted that be would deny n1c the
collar out of spite. More likely lie would put it on me and then try to
make me regrct I wore it. Too, if I were not a natural slave, was it not
now time that he put me in a collar? 1, a free woman, had been forced,
to my humiliation and shame, to serve as though I might be a slave.
Surely the next natural step in his vengeance would be to make me a
legal slave and own me. Would it not be a splendid jest, now, to take
Sheila, the Tatri -. of Corcyrus, to the shop of a metal worker, to see
her writhe and scream under the iron, to have
	248	John Norman
	her fitted with a collar and then lock it on her throat, to
	make her an actual sIpLve? But he did not seem to have any
	intention of doing so. What fate, then, I wondered, might
	Speusippus of Turia have in mind for me?I wrung out the last tunic, and rolled it up, and put it with
	the others. They could be unrolled and laid out to diy on the
	wagons.
		"What is the news, Tina?" I asked.
		"Wbout what?" she asked.-
		"About anything," I said.
	"There is not much," she said. "There is some fear for the
	Sa-Tarna crop, because of. the great deal of rain. There is go-
	ing to be a celebration in Ar because of the birthday of Mar-
	lenus, the Ubar there. Lactantius thinks that is important."
		"Is there any news from the west?" I asked.
		"The usual," she said.
		"What is that?" I asked.
		"You have heard about the escape of the Tatrix of Cor-
	cyrus?" she asked.
		"No," I said.
	"That is strange," she said. "It happened some days ago.
	There is a great search on, for her."
		"I did not know that," I said. "Nftere do they think she
	went?
		"No one knows," said Tina.
		"0h," I said.
	"There is now a reward of a thousand gold pieces for her,"
	she said.
		"That is a great deal of money," I said. I felt sick.
		"Tina," I said.
		"Yes?" she said.
	"Lactantius, your master, is from Ar's Station. What is he
	doing on this road?"
		"He picked up f reight in Ar," she said. "He is taking it
	west."
		"Where?" I asked.
		"To Argentum," she said. "What is wrong?"
		"Nothing," I said. "What is he doing on this road?" I
	asked.
		"'What do you mean?" she asked. "He is doing exactly
	what he is supposed to be doing."
		"What road is this?" I asked.
		"It is the road to Argentum," she said.
		I pretended to be dissatisfied with one or two of the tunics I had
washed. I dallied by the stream until Tina had finished her work and
returned to the vicinity of her master's wagon. Then, when no one was
looking, I bent down and picked up a small, sharp stone from the edge
of the stream. This I inserted in the hem of my slave tunic. Later I
would hold it in my mouth, for the tunic would be taken from me before
I was put in the trunk. The trunk, though sturdy, was not an iron or steel
slave box. It was a trunk, made of wood, banded with iron.
		I fled along the stone road, eastward, back toward the Viktel Aria.
The road was wet. The night was cloudy.
		It had taken me two nights, with the sharp stone, to cut through the
wood, under the blanket, in the trunk. I had begun by drawing deep,
even scratches. The scratches had then, repeatedly, been deepened,
slowly and carefully. I had worked only with great caution, and very
silently, and even then only when I was assured that Speusippus was
asleep. By day I hid the stone in the blanket, and the blanket itself
covered the traces of my work. I rejoiced that Speusippus was not
more fastidious about the conditions of my confinement. Yesterday
morning, before dawn, the bottom of the trunk bail been loosened and,
rolling to one side, I could get my fingers beneath it. Tonight, a few Ahn
ago, I had lifted it, inside the tru-ik. I had then, tipping and lifting the
trunk, been able to slip between the two iron bands which reinforced its
strength, bands which joined with the hardware of the two locks,
making it impossible to cut or saw around the locks. I had then eased
the trunk back into place, slipped from the wagon, sneaked from the
camp, and run.
		I was naked again, as I bad been, in the camp of Miles of
Argenturn. I did not know where my slave tunic was, as, each
night, would put it somewhere after I had been locked in the
trunk. There was no clothing of a free woman in the camp as far as I knew. It was a camp of free men and slaves.
		I made my way eastward, gasping, and walking and running, on the
Argenturn road, back toward the Viktel Aria. I did not think they would
expect me to keep to the road. Yet, of course, on it, I could make my
best time. Too, I did not think they would expect me to retrace the route
to the Viktel Aria. Not only would this bring me into areas of greater
pop..;,, ulation concentrations but, too, it would take me closer to, Ar.
This would be almost as bad from my point of view, they would suppose,
as moving toward Argentum itself. They' would expect me, I supposed,
to follow the stream, wading in it, and then, a few pasangs later, strike
out northward. Speusippus would recall that I had, on my knees, begged
him not to take me to Ar.
I hurried on.
		An additional reason for keeping to the road was that I thought,
on the hard, wet surface, it might be more difficult to follow my sign, if
sleen were later used. Also, of course, my sign would be confused, or I
hoped it would, with that of other travelers. To be sure, there were no
sleen at the campsite and Speusippus might not be able to rent one for
days. By that time, especially with the rains, it might be impossible, even
for such fine, tenacious hunters as sleen, to follow my scent. Too, I did
not think he would have anything that would be particularly useful for
setting sleen on my trail. I had deliberately left the blanket in the trunk.
It would bear not only my own scent but that of numerous other women
as well. The tunic I had worn, too, bad been worn by 01bers,
presumably slaves, before me. Also, in the evening I had washed it
thorotighly and, not donning it, handed it humbly to Speusippus before I
had entered the trunk, presurnably to be locked helplessly in it.
It was becoming more cloudy. I felt a few drops of rain.
		Speusippus might not even rent sleen. By the time he could do so, he
would recognize, as a rational man, that the scent presumably would
have faded. Too, he had little of practical value in giving such beasts the
initial scent. Too, it is expensive to rent sleen, and Speusippus, who was
a poor man, might even lack the means to do so. It is much more expen
sive, for example, to rent a sleen than a slave. Sleen are often rented
by the Ahn. Slaves are commonly rented by the day or week. One of
the greatest advantages I had, I thought, was that Steusippus, being an
intelligent man, would presumably keep the secret of my identity. It
would do his coin box little good if I fell to the chain of some burly
huntsman from the foothills of the Voltai. Besides, who would believe
that he had ever had the Tatrix of Corcyrus in his keeping? They would
surely think him mad. if authorities should search for me, I was sure it
would be only as the girl of Speusippus, a runaway slave named Lita.
		It now began to rain more heavily. I welcomed the rain, hoping it
would diminish and wash away the scent my body and bare feet might
be leaving behind me.
		There was another reason I was retracing our steps on the Argentum
road. Yesterday I had seen another open slave wagon, a long, wide
wagon much like I had seen a few days ago. It, too, had contained
several girls, their individual neck chains strung to a common central
chain, their bair cropped as insolently short as mine. The similarity of the
two wagons and the chaining arrangements suggested that a single
company wasinvolved. I had made inquiries. These were girls of the sort
sometimes referred to as female work slaves. It is a very low form of
slave, indeed, perhaps the lowest. Seldom can they aspire even to the
status of the kettle-and-mat girl. They do not bring high priccs. T'hey are
usually sold in multi-item lots in cheap markets and are usually
purchased to be used in such places as the public kitchens or laundries,
and the mills. From these applications, they are sometimes referred to,
naturally enough, as "kitchen girls," "laundry girls," "mill girls," and so
on.
These particular girls, it had been coDjectured, had been obtained from
markets in the north, where prices are often cheaper. They were now
being Lrought south aqd cast, probably, from their shearing, for work in
the mills. It was my hope that I could make secret 'contact with these
women, and obtain food, and perhaps advice, from them. I was naked,
ignorant and ffliterate. I was little better off than when I had escaped
from the yard of the inn several days ago. Surely they would feed me,
and be kind to me. Even though I was far superior to them, as I was
free and they were mere slaves, it was my hope that they would be kind
to me in my need. We shared a common sisterhood
252 	John Norman
in the sense that we were all ultimately helpless women on a world
where men had never relinquished,their sovereignty.
Toward morning the rain stopped and 1, fearful of discov
ery as it grew lighter, left the Argenturn road. "Please, do not make any noise," I whispered.
		"Who is there!" said the woman, frightened. I heard the movement
of a chain.
"Please be quiet," I whispered. "I will not hurt you."
		"What is going on?" whispered another woman. I heard the
movements of bodies, of chains.
		"Be quiet, please," I said. I had crawled over the side of the slave
wagon. I had lowered myself, in the darkness, to the interior. I felt the
wood of the wagon bed, beneath a blanket, or blankets,'beneath my
knees. The wagon, unhitched, -was drawn among some trees. Tw6
tharlarion were tethered nearby. Also a few yards away there was a
tent.
		"Please be quiet," I whispered. I lowered myself to my belly in the
wagon. I did not wish to risk my upper body being seen over the side of
the wagon.
		Although the wagon was normally open when on the road it was
now, on this night on which it had rained off and on, rigged with a
temporary, now-partially-rolled-up cover. The cover consisted of a
tarpaulin sewn about long poles on two sides. This cover was placed
over a frame which consisted of five poles; two of these poles, braced,
crossed and tied together near the top, were at the front of the wagon; a
similar pair was fixed at the back of the wagon; between these two
pairs of poles there lay, across them, parallel to the long axis of the
wagon, like a ridgepole, a fifth pole. The tarpaulin, then, was laid over
this long pole and held in place by its own two poles, resting against the
sloping sides of the crossed
poles at the front and back of the wagon. The tarpaulin was rolled up
and tied about its poles in such a way that there was a gap of about a
yard between itself and the side of the wagon.
		"Please," I begged. I lay on my stomach in the wagon. My body
was wet; my feet were muddy.
"Who are you?" whispered a woman.
		"I am one who is hungry, and in desperate need of help," I said
"But we are naked slaves," said a woman.
"And we are chained," said another.
		"Give me some food," I begged. "I must have foodl" I had not
eaten in more than twenty Ahn, indeed, since I had received a feeding
from Speusippus, and a rather sparing one, on the evening preceding
my escape. He had on the whole fed me intelligently, but seldom
generously. It seemed to be his intention, through diet and exercise, in
so far as he could, to see to it that my body became as shapely as
that of a pleasure slave.
"'There is no food in the wagon," said a woman.
I moaned in misery.
		"Our food is measured out to us in small, exact quantities," said a
woman, "and then we must, under supervision, consume it entirely."
"There must be food," I said.
	"There is food within the t * ent," said a woman, "but the
drivers are there, and it is kept locked up."
"You must help me," I said. "I am as sheared as you."
"What can we do?" asked a woman.
"You had best flee," said another.
"I do not know what to do, or where to go," I sobbed.
"Who are you?" asked a woman.
"I am a free woman," I said.
I heard a reaction, a shrinking back in the chains.
		"Do not be afraid," I said. "I will not hurt yod. Too, do not kneel,
please."
"You are not a free woman," said a woman.
"You are a runaway slave," said another.
		"If you were a free woman," said another, "you would not come to
slaves. You would go to free persons!"
		"I am hungry and miserable," I said. "I need help. I do not care
whether you think I am slave or free."
"She is not branded, I do not think," said a woman. I
pulled back. I felt hands checking my left and right thighs, the two most
common brand sites for a Gorean slave.
		"No, I do not think so," said another woman, apprehensively.
"Some men do not brand their slaves," said a woman.
"They are fools," said another.
"Yes," said another.
"But she is sheared," said another, feeling my head.
"She must then be a slave," said another.
		"'Some free women have theniselves sheared, to sell their' hair," said
another.
"I am a free woman," I sobbed.
"She is naked," said another woman.
	"She doesn't even have a string on her belly," said another.
I pulled back, angrily, from them. 	a,
		"Free women do not run about the countryside naked, my dear," said another woman.
"Nonetheless," I said, "I am a free womanl"
"Where are your clothes?" asked a woman.
		"A man captured me," I said. "He took my clothesl He sheared my hair, too, for moneyl"
"Why didn't he keep you?" asked i woman.
"She must be ugly," said one of the women.
"I am not uglyl" I said.
"Then why didn't he keep you?" asked the woman.
"I don't knowl" I said.
"You are a slave," said a woman.
"Nol" I said.
"Liarl" said another.
"I am a free woman," I sobbed. "I am a free woman.
		"If you are a free woman, and are not from this area," said one of
the slaves, "I think you should flee. It is not safe for you here."
"I do not understand," I said.
		"Surely it would not do for you to be caught here," she said.
"No!" I said, frightened.
		"Then I think you should flee, now, while there is still time.
"Where can I go?" I asked. "Where can I run?"
"Anywhere," said a woman. "But hurryl"
"Why?" I asked.
"It is nearly time for slave check," said a woman.
"Slave check?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"It is too late!" whispered a woman.
		I looked wildly about. Not feet away I saw a lantern approaching the
back of the wagon. I quickly lay down, with .the others, huddled against
them, as if asleep.
		I heard the wagon gate being lowered in the back. It swung down
on its binges, striking against the wagon. I heard the boards of the
wagon bed creak as they were subjected to additional weight. I sensed
the light of the lantern in the wagon, under the tentlike tarpaulin,
illuminating bodies.
I lay very still.
		"Well," said a voice, "what have we here?" I felt a foot kick me.
		I turned about, blinking up into the light of the lantern, terrified.
		"You have been caught, Slavel" said a woman near me, elatedly.

		"On your back," said the man, "and put your hands, palms up, where
I can see them."
I did so.
'Now cross your wrists, in front of you," he said.
		I did this and he, with one hand, grasped them both. In this.grip I
was held as helplessly as a child. He pulled me to my knees and, lifting
the lantern, examined where I had lain.
He then put me again to my back and released my hands.
		"I am unarmed," I said. "I have no weapons. I am utterly
defenseless. Please be kind to me."
		"Durbarl" he called. He then hung the lantern from a hook on the
ridgepole, beneath the damp, brown tarpaulin.
		"I am not what you think," I assured him. "I am a free woman. I am
not a slave. I am neither collared, as you can see, nor branded, as you
may easily determine."
"You are a free woman?" he asked skeptically.
		"Yes," I said. "And I am desperately in need of help. It is my hope
that you will be kind to me, giving me food and clothing, and money and
guidance, so that I may return to my horne in Lydius. That is on the
Laurius river. The town Laura is east of it."
"Is Lydius north or south of Kassau?" he asked.
"North," I said.
"No," he said. "South."
There was laughter frorn the women.
		"Your accent," he said, "suggests that you might be from Tabor."
		"Yesl" I said, seizing on this. "I am. My parents had arranged an
unwanted companionship for me. I fled. I now want to go
somewhere else."
		"Tabor is far away," he said. "Did you come all this way on foot?"
"Yesl" I said.
"That is amazing," he said, "for Tabor is an island."
		Tears sprang to my -eyes. The women in the wagon laughed.
		"What is going on?" asked a fellow coming up to the wagon,
fastening a belt of accouterments about himself.
"See what we have here," said the first fellow.
"Ah!" he said.
"She claims to be a free woman," said the first fellow.
"Of course," said the second.
		"A man captured me," I said. "He took my clothes! He sheared my
hair, for money!"
		"If you are a free woman," said the second man, he, I gathered, who
was Durbar, "what are you doing here, crawling about with slaves?"
"I was afraid," I said.
		"If you are truly a free woman," said the first man, "what were you
afraid of?"
		"You are right," I said. "I am a free woman. I should not have been
afraid."
		The two men laughed, and the chained women, as well. I looked
about, at them, from face to face. I saw their amusement. I saw the
collars and chains on their necks. How foolish I felt. I bad again been
tricked. obviously, in a situation like this, a free woman might have a great deal to fear.
		"I am hungry," I said. "I am desperately hungry. I am starving. Please give me something to cat."
	. "Bring her something to eat," said the first man to him called Durbar "something appropriate."
		Durbar left. In a few moments be returned with a small wooden bowl filled with dried, precooked meal. He poured some water into this.
I was then handed the bowl.
Some of the women laughed.
		"Mix it with your fingers," said the first man. Then be turned to
Durbar. "Look about the camp," he said. "See if there are any more
skulking about."
"I am alone," I told them.
But Durbar went to check.
		I, mixing the water with the precooked meal, formed a sort of cold
porridge.or gruel. I then, with my fingers, and putting the bowl even to
my lips, fed eagerly upon that thick, bland, moist substance.
		By the time Durbar had returned I had finished, even to
the.desperate wiping and licking of the bowl, that I might secure every
last particle of that simple, precious, vitalizing provender.
		"You eat slave gruel well," said the first men. There was laughter
from the chained women.
	I put down my head. The bowl was taken from me. So
th,-t was slave gruel, I thought. I knew that it, with its various
supplements, was extremely nourishing. It had been designed
for the feeding of slaves, to keep them healthy, sleA and
trim. , On the other hand, although I had devoured it eagerly,
I could see where a slave who was not starving might, after a
time, desperately strive to improve her services to the master,
that he might see fit, in his kindness, to grant her at least the
scraps of a more customary diet.
		"Do you still claim to be a free woman?" asked the first man.
"Yes," I said.
"You have the body of a slave," be said.
		"It is not my fault," I said, "that I have the body of a slave."
"Can you read?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"What is your name?" he asked.

	I thought wildly for a moment. Then I said, "Tiffany, La
Tiffany!"
	"What sort of name is that?" he asked.
	"I do not know," I said.
	"It is an unusual name," he said.
	"Maybe it is a barbarian name," suggested Durbar.
"Are you a barbarian?" asked the first man.
"Maybe," I said. I saw scorn in the faces of several of I
chained women.
	"Look," said the first man, taking me by the uppper 1
arm, and turning it to the light. "The barbarian brand."
	I did not see how I could explain this vaccination mark
the men without making clear that my origin was not
Gorean. The vaccination was in connection with a dise
which, too, as far as I knew, did not even exist on Gor.
	"Get on your feet, here by the lantern," said the first m
"And open your mouth, widely."
	I complied.
	"Durbar, come up here," said the first man. He was joit
by his fellow. "Back there, see?" he asked Durbar.
	"Yes," said Durbar.
	As a child I had had some fillings in the molar area, on
lower left side.
	"They are common in barbarians," said the first man.
	"Yes," said Durbar. "But, those of the caste of physici:
can do such things. I have seen them in some Gorean girls."
	"That is true," admitted the first man.
	These fellows must also know that doubtless such thi
might be found occasionally in the mouths of some Gori
men. On the other hand, of course, they would not have bq
likely to have seen them there. They would have seen th~
presumably, only in the mouths of girls, slaves. One of
things that a master commonly checks in a female he is c
sidering buying is the number and condition of her teeth.
	"Lie back down," said the first man, "on your back, as
before."
	I did so.
	"Are you a barbarian?" he asked.
	"Yes," I said. I did not see how I could, in the light of
facts, hope to conceal this from them.
	Several of the women laughed. Barbarians, I gather
were to be held in contempt. The men, however, I no
somewhat to my uneasiness, did not seem to be viewing
with contempt. They were viewing me, rather, with definite
interest. I did not understand clearly, at that time, the rather
special position on Gor occupied by barbarian slaves. Servile
a~d low, and trained to sensuous wonders, they often brought
high prices; to many Gorean men they seemed ideal objects,
or among such, on which to slake their most prnnitive and
brutal sexual lusts.
	"You speak the language very well," said the first man. "I
could not even place your accent. indeed, I was not even cer-
tain it was barbarian."
	"It is," I said. "Thank you."
	A's I lay at their feet, on the blanket, on the boards of the
slave wagon, they were looking down at me. I was aware that
it w~as very much as a female that I was being looked at.
	"what are you going to do with me?" I asked.
	The first man shrugged. "Turn you over to the authorities,"
he said.
	"Please do not do so," I begged. "Please!"
	They continued to look at me.
	"Please," I begged. "Please, please," I whimpered. I lifted
my body, piteously, to them.
	"Slut!" hissed one of the chained slaves.
	"Please," I whimpered. "Please!"
	"We'll give you a trial," said the first man. "You first, Dur
bar."
	I reached up for him as he crouched down, swiffly, be-
tween my legs. Durbar was not first in the camp, I realized.
He would warm me for the use of the other. It was he whom
I must especially please.
	A few Ehn later, in the arms of the leader, the first driver,
l suddenly cried out with fear and surprise. lt had been my
intention to be especially pleasing to him but, suddenly, it
seemed as though I were being taken away from myself.
"No!" I said, suddenly. "Please, stop!" But I clutched him
desperately. "Stop!" I begged. "Oh, stop!" I gritted my teeth.
My fingernails cut into his arm and back. "Slut!" hissed one
of the slaves. "Slut!"
	"The feelings!" I cried. "The feelings! Please, stop!" But
the brute laughed, and did not stop.
	"I cannot stand it!" I cried
	But still the beast did not desist!
	The sensation that Speusippus had begun to induce in me
long ago, that which had struck such terror into me, now,
seemingly from somewhere deep in my belly, began to
emerge irresistibly. I had not known what it would be like in
its larger effect, let alone its resolution.
	"No!" I cried.
	And then I yielded to him.
	"Slut, slut, slut!" hissed one of the slaves.
	I then clutched him, startled and astounded. I could hardly
believe what I had felt. I held tightly to him. "Please do not
let me go," I begged. "Hold me, if only for a moment! Hold
me! Hold me, please!"
	"what a slut she is," said a woman.
	"Yes," said another.
	I held tightly to the man. I tried to cope with my feelings
and understandings. It had been my intention merely to be
very pleasing to him; I had desired, really, to do little but
give him great pleasure. Then something had happened. It
seemed somehow as though he had suddenly taken me away
from myself. He had taken command of me. He had sud-
denly begun to make me move and respond according to his
will, not mine. He had literally given me no choice. He had
forced my yielding. He had made me come to him and
rather, I was afraid, like a slave. I was a bit disappointed in
one way. It was I who was in the position of the slave. I had
wanted to serve him, to please him, to bring him pleasure. In-
stead I myself had been forced to feel pleastire and even,
choiceless, to yield.
	"Did I please you?" I asked.
	"Yes," he said. I licked and kissed at his shoulder in grati-
tude. Even though he had given me little opportunity to
please him he had still, apparently, found me pleasing.
Women, I supposed, might be found pleasing by men in
many ways. Perhaps that is one way for a woman to be
pleasing, I thought, that the man does with her what he
wishes, that he chooses, as he wishes, to please himself with
her.
	I kissed him, helplessly. He drew back a bit from me. I
saw a chain snapped onto the common chain of the women.
At the end of this shorter chain there was an open collar. It
was then put about my neck and snapped shut. I touched it. I
was now on the same chain with the other women.
	He stood up. I lay at his feet, on the floor of the slave
wagon, on the blanket, chained. I had been well had. I did
not know what he would do with me now. Perhaps it would
amuse him to turn me over to the authorities now. I did not
know.
	"Do you still claim to be a free woman, Tiffany?" he
asked.
	"Why?" I asked.
	"Because you have the responses and reflexes of a slave,"
he said.
	"I claim nothing," I said, vanquished and chained.
	"Are you really free?" he asked.
	"it doesn't matter now, does it?" I asked.
	"Not at all," he said.
	"What do you think?" I asked him.
	"I think you are a slave," he said.
	"I am not branded and collared," I reminded him, "except,
of course, for the holding-chain collar."
	"We will do something about that," he said, "outside of
Ar."
	I looked at him, startled. Quickly I scrambled to my knees
before him, the palms of my hands on the floor of the wagon.
	"Accustom yourself to calling free men 'Master' and free
women 'Mistress,'" he saii
	"Yes, Master!" I said.
	"And you are low girl here," he said, "so you will address
your chain sisters as 'Mistress' as well."
	"Yes, Master!" 1 cried.
	"You are a mill girl now, Tiffany," he said.
	"Yes, Master! Thank you, Master!" I sobbed, and put
down my head, covering his feet with kisses of gratitude.
	He then withdrew, taking the lantern with him. Durbar ac-
companied him.
	I then lay down with my chain sisters. I tried to gather my
thoughts. I had been captured, and this terrified me. Further-
more I now could entertain few realistic thoughts of escape. I
did not think that any mysterious men would suddenly ap-
pear to free me, as at the camp of Miles of Argentum. Simi-
larly these men seemed to be professionals in the handling of
women. I did not think they, like Speusippus, for example,
would be likely to use a wooden trunk for a slave kennel.
Furthermore I knew the security in the nilils, behind those
high, gray walls, was for most practical purposes absolute.
Similarly, there presumably I would be branded, collared and,
if permitted clothing, put in distinctive garb. Thus, even if
one did manage to get beyond the wails, one would presum
ably be apprehended swiftly and returned to the mill masters.
Similarly the mills had their own sleen, both for patrolling
the yard at night and, if need be, trailing slaves. No, girls did
not escape from the mills. Too, I was horrified at the thought
of going to the mills, for they were one of the lowest and
hardest slaveries on Gor. That would be the end of Tiffany
Collins, I feared, a slave in a Gorean mill. On the other hand
I had, honesfly, and joyfully, kissed at th~ driver's feet for the
mercy shown to me. Had he turned me over to the authori-
ties I would doubtless have eventually been returned to
Speusippus as his strayed Lita, and then conveyed by him,
probably in chains, to Argentum, there presumably to be
commended to the attentions of the impaling spear As it
was, in the mill, in Ar, I should be hidden and safe. There,
though a slave, I would be concealed, fed and protected. I
did not think anyone would think of looking in a mill for the
Tatrix of Corcyrus, and certainly not one in Ar. My feelings
were thus mixed in this matter. I was relieved, too, in a way,
of course, that I now no longer needed fear capture. It had
happened to me. I must now abide its consequences. Too, no
longer now need I forage for food and shelter as an ignorant,
naked fugitive, often fearful, miserable, cold and hungry. I
supposed it had been only a matter of time until someone
had caught me. Perhaps it was just as well that it had hap-
pened as it did.
	But whatever might be the pros and cons of this matter
they were now mostly academic. I had again, as a matter of
fact, fallen into the power of men. I lay in a slave wagon.
Their chain was on my neck.
	I wondered, too, on what sort of creature it was that they
had their chain.
	I did not think that I was the same Tiffany Collins as I had
been earlier.
	The second fellow who bad had me, the leader of the two
drivers, had taught me much. I now knew, to some extent,
what could be done to me. I did not think I was likely to for-
get it. I could be forced to yield myself to a man as a slave.
This made me feel very helpless. Men are, I supposed, the
masters. But, too, I remei~Tbered clearly that wild, surging,
overwhelming sensation I had felt. I certainly, desperately,
wanted to feel that again. Too, I sensed, it frightening me
somewhat, but also exciting and intriguing me almost to the
point of madness, that behind that sensation there might be
others, indeed, that there might lie beyond that sensation al-
most indefinite vistas of kindred emotions and feelings. who,
I wondered, has plumbed the depths of feelings' oceans or
has successfully mapped the countries of love? I found that I,
and this frightened me, wanted to submit to men and yield to
then' as a slave. This was not a simple matter of sentience,
incidentally, but involved an entire matrix of feeling, thought
and emotion. I wanted to love and serve, to be fully pleasing
not merely in a sexual manner but in all ways, to ask nothing
and give all. But, too, it must be admitted that powerful
physical feelings were also involved. I bit at the blanket and
squirmed.
	"Lie still," said a woman.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Forgive me, Mistress."
	I must not let them make me a slave, I thought. I must
fight these feelings, these sensations. I must try to be more
like a free woman, I told myself. I must try to be inert and
cold.
	But what chance will I have, I asked myself, if I am
branded and they put a collar on my neck, and I am subject
to the whip, and to the uncompromising disciplines of
Gorean masters?
	I must not permit them to light slave fires in my belly, I
thought.
	But what can I do if they should simply choose to do so, I
thought. Then they would be lit, and that would be all there
was to it, I told myself. Then, Tiffany, poor girl, you would
be a slave for certain. "You are already a slave for certain,
Tiffany, and you know it,,, a voice seemed to say from within
me, that voice which in the past had seemed to speak to me,
too, though usually in the quarters of the Tatrix, as when it
had ordered me, and I had complied, to kiss a whip or the
slave ring. "Perhaps," I said to the voice, to myself.
	It was near dawn now. The wagon would proceed east on
the Argentum road, reach the Viktel Aria, and turn south.
Then, in time, it would arrive in Ar. Soon I would be en-
slaved, legally. I would be, totally, legally, a slave on Gor.
	I found myself looking forward to the collar and the
brand. They were now unavoidable. I would have no choice
in the matter. They would simply be put on me. I hoped I
would look well in my cotlar. I hoped I would look well in
my brand. Most women are stunnmg in them, and I did not
think I would be different. I wondered if I were truly a slave.
I wondered if the collar and brand belonged on me. "Per
haps," I thought. I hoped it would not hurt too much to be
branded. It was the mark that stayed, of course, not the pain.
	"You are awake," whispered a woman to me.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said.
	"You may be pretty," she said, "and the men may like
you, but do not think that you are better than us."
	"No, Mistress," I said.
	"You are a little slut," she said.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said.
	"And you are going to be a work slave, too, my dear," she
said.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said.
	"Now go to sleep, barbarian slut," she said.
	"I will try, Mistress," I said.
	for a moment or two, suddenly recalling the wild sensations
the driver had induced in me, I inadvertently moaned and
moved.
	"Be quiet!" said the woman.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said. "I am sorry, Mistress!"
	Then I lay there frightened, chained, on the blanket, on the
boards of the wagon bed, under the overhead tarpaulin. I
turned and grasped the blanket. I bit at it. My thighs moved.
	I was afraid.
I feared that already slave fires had been lit in my belly.
I stood in a long line, single-ifie, of some twenty girls. We
were all naked. We were in the yard of one of the linen mills
of Mintar, of Ar.
	I heard the second of the two heavy gates close behind us.
I looked back, and about me, across the yard, at the hi~
walls, with their guard stations.
	"Do not even think of escape, Tiffany," said a girl behind
me, Emily.
	"There is oflly one way out of here," said another girl, be-
hind her, "and that is to please your way out."
	Almost any woman, I supposed, could become pleasing.
And even women who, objectively, seemed rather plain, I
knew, as thefr attitudes changed, and as they became submis-
sive, and yielding to their femininity, in their deepest emo-
tions, could become beautiful. Still, of course, in a mill, few
would know this. Such a woman, I supposed, aching for a
man 5 touch, might be kept indefinitely in the mill, worki~g
her long hours of tiring labor, her left ankle chained to the
loom. The mills, incidentally, like certain other low slaveries,
such as those of the fields, the kitchens and laundries, serve
an almost penal function on Gor. For example, a free
woman, sentenced to slavery for, say, crimes or debts, may
find herself, once enslaved, by direction of the court, sold for
a pittance into such a slavery. Such slaveries also provide a
place to utilize women who are thought to be good for little
else. Most women, after a short time in such a slavery, strive
to convince masters of their fuller potentialities for service
and pleasure. If the woman prefers to remain in such a slav-
cry, of course, that, too, is found acceptable by the masters.
	"But that, too, is dangerous," said another girl, "for if you
are too pleasing, the whip masters will hide you and keep you
for themselves."
	"You are all sluts," said a large, ugly woman, Luta, a few
spaces back.
	A whip cracked, and we all jumped, frightened. We were
naked. We did not want to feel it. "No talking in line," said
a man. We were then silent. Luta need not have spoken as
loudly as she had. I do not think the man would have minded
it if we had spoken quietly among ourselves.
	I was afraid of Luta. She was large and strong, and I could
tell she did not like me.
	"Next," said a man at a table, and we moved up one
space.
	Only two of the girls in this line had been in the slave
wagon on the Argentum road with me, Emily and Luta.
Though Emily bore an Earth-girl name she was Gorean. On
Gor Earth-girl names are commonly used as slave names. If
you have an Earth-girl name it is probably, somewhere on
Gor, being used as a slave name. Similarly, if you were to go
to Gor and give that to them as your name they would as-
sume immediately that you, too, bearing such a name, were a
slave. And, indeed, if you were taken to Gor, I suppose you
would be.
	"Next," said the man at the table. We moved up anotlier
space.
	I was not now collared. It had been removed from me a
few Ehn ago, before I had been assigned to this line. I had
worn it for only a few Ahn. Outside of Ar we had stopped at
the office and holding area of a man associated with the vari-
ous enterprises of Mint~n, including his mills. There we were
to be divided up and, with others, transferred to closed slave
wagons. One does not usually take an open slave wagon on
the streets of Ar, in deference to the sensibilities of free
women. While others were in the holding area I was taken by
Tenrak, which was, as I had later learned, the name of the
leader of the two drivers, to the shop of a metal worker.
There something was done to me. Then I was returned to the
holding area, now a slave. At the holding area I was put in a
transfer collar. The others were already in theirs. These col-
lars were color coded for our destinations, some girls being
delivered to one place and some to another. There is an ordi-
nance in Ar, incidentally, that all female slaves must wear
some visible token of bondage. This is commonly a collar.
Sometimes, too, however, it is a bracelet or anklet. This was
the first time I had ever ridden in a common slave wagon.
My ankles were shackled about the central bar. The girls
were shackled on the bar in the order of the drivers' delivery
schedule, the first girls to be delivered being shackled closest
to the wagon gate, and so on. Our wagon was checked at the
great gate of Ar. A guardsman climbed into the back of the
wagon, crouching down, doing this work. I, naked, in the
colored-coded collar, my ankles chained, sheared, attracted
no undue attention. I did cry out, however, for the guards-
man, in leaving, touched nie aggressively, and intimately. I
recoiled, wildly, frightened, trying to cover myself. But he
was then gone. I looked after him, shuddering. I was horri-
fled. He had been so bold! But then, of course, I was only a
8'ave. I saw Luta looking at me, with hatred. I dared Dot
meet her eyes, and looked down. In a moment the wagon was
passing through the great gate at Ar.
	"Next," said the man at the table.
	I then stood before the table, naked.
	"Thigh," he said.
	I turned sideways, so that he might see my left thigh.
	"Common Kajira mark," he said, and made an entry on a
sheet. "Face me, Girl," he said.
	I did.
	"Arrived sheared," he said, and made another entry. "what
is your name?" he asked.
	'Whatever Master wishes," I said.
	"what have you been called?" be asked. "Quick!"
	"I have been called Tiffany," I said.
	"You are now 'Tiffany,'" he said.
	"Yes, Master," I said. He wrote something down, presum-
ably the name. He seemed to have beard it before, unlike the
drivers. Some other "Tiffany" had perhaps, at some earlier
time, stood where I stood. I also realized that I had now been
named. I had lost the name "Tiffany Collins" a few Ahn ago,
when I had been marked, when I had become slave. That
name was gone, as soon as the iron, hissing, curling smoke,
had been lifted from my flesh. A free person had been locked
in the branding rack. A mere ammal was released from it.
The name "Tiffany" had now been put on me as a mere slave
name, a name which might be removed or changed at the
whim of masters. I wore the name "Tiffany" now as Susan
had worn the name "Susan," now merely as a named animal,
merely by the will and decision of masters.
	"Have you bad experience in a mill, Tiffany?" he asked.
	"No, Master," I said.
	"Come around to the side of the table and kneel here," he
said. I did so. He then bent over and, cupping his left hand
under my left breast, held it steady and, with a grease pencil,
across it, above the nipple, inscribed four characters. "That is
your mill number, Tiffany," he said, "four thousand and sev-
enty-three."
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	"Now, go there," he said, indicating another table, several
yards away, iiear the wall.
	"Yes, Master," I said. Tenrak and Durbar, at the office of
the man of Mintar, outside the gate, had received ten copper
tarsks for me. This did not seem to me much but it was, of
course, enough to give them each five nights of pleasure in a
paga tavern. I recalled that Drusus Rencius had thought I
might go for something between fifteen and twenty tarsks. I
had gone for only ten. On the other hand it had not been all
open sale. Too, of course, I was shorn and being considered
in terms of utilization in the mills. Some girls, Tenrak had as
sured me, go for as little as five copper tarsks. Ten copper
tarsks, he assured me, was a good price for a mill girl.
		I now stood before a man near the wall Behind him was a table, on which there were, aligned, several collars, all seem-
ingly identical in appearance and design. He had an aide with
him.
		The man looked at my left breast, reading the characters written there.
		"Four-zero-seven-three," he said. He was then handed a collar, the next in a series of diminishing rows.
		"Name?" he asked.
		"Tiffany, if it pleases Master," I saide
"Can you read?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said.
He then showed me the collar, indicating the engraving on
it.	"This is a company collar," he said. "It says, 'I belong to
Mintar of Ar. I work in Mill 7. My number is four-zero-
seven-three.'"
		"Yes, Master," I said. The collars would die then, only
in the Girl Numbers.
		"Lift your chin, Tiffany," he said.
		I did so, and the collar was placed about my neck and
snapped shut. The first collar I had worn had been a color-
coded transfer collar, put on me at the holding area outside
the gate, probably primarily to comply with the ordinance
that female slaves in Ar must wear a visible token of their
bondage; otherwise we might simply have had our destina-
tions written on our bodies. This was my first owner collar.
The laws of Ar, incidentally, do not require a similar visible
token of bondage on the bodies of male slaves, or even any
distinctive type of garments. The historical explanation of this
is that it was originally intended to ~nake it difficult for male
slaves to make contact with one another and to keep them
from understanding how numerous they might be. On the
other hand, male slaves are not numerous, at least within the
cities, as opposed to the great farms or the quarries, and they
are, in fact, usually collared. Some, however, depending on
the whim of the master or mistress, may wear a distinctive
anklet or bracelet. A consequence of this ordinance from the
point of view of a female slave is that she cannot now even
permit herself to be taken for a free woman by accident; her
bondage is always manifest; it is helpful from the man's point
of view, too; he always knows the status of the woman to
whom he is relating; one relates to free women and slaves
quite differently, or course; one treats a free woman with
honor and respect; one treats a slave, commonly, with con
descension and authority.
	"Kneel and kiss the whip of Mintar," he said. He took a
Whip from the table and held it before me. "Again and
again," he said, "tenderly, lingeringly."
	I did so. I trembled, thrilled, forced to kiss a man's whip,
and in the intimate manner of a slave. I supposed that I
would never see the man whose whip I was kissing.
	"what is your name?" he asked.	"Tiffany," I said.
"In what mill do you work?"
"Mill 7."
"What is your girl number?"
"4073," I said.
"Whose collar do you wear?"
"The collar of Mintar of Ar."
"Who owns you?"
	"Mintar of Ar."
"Who do you love?"
"Mintar of Ar."
"Welcome to Mill 7, Tiffany," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
	He then replaced the whip on the table and handed me,
from a basket, two tunics. They were folded, and washed,
and brown. "Thank you, Master," I said. I held them close to
me. I would later discover that they were rather common
slave tunics, brief, with no nether closure. Too, they were
sleeveless, slit at the sides, and with a plunging neckline. Oil
the front of the left shoulder there was a design, in white and
yellow, bearing what I would later learn was an inscribed
"Mu." This was a design, I would later learn, which was com-
mon to many of the different enterprises of Mintar. "Mu" is
the first letter of the name Mintar. White and yellow, or white
and gold, are the colors of the merchants. The tunic had noth-
ing specific to the mills, of Mill 7. Such a tunic might have
been worn by girls laboring or serving in almost any of his
holdings. It was thus, in a broad sense, a company tunic. I
wondered how many girls Mintar owned, or were owned by
the enterprises of Mintar.
	"Go now, over there," he said, pointing, "and get in that
line, wilere you see that small yellow flag. You wrn be in the
chain of Borkon. He will be your whip master."
		"Yes, Master," I said. Borkon, I realized, whoever~he was,'
was he whom I must now strive to please. "Is that all, Mas-
ter?"
		"Yes," he said. "Did you expect to be intricately measured,
to be toe-printed, and such? You are not a high slave. You
are a low slave, a mill girl."
		"Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master." I then leapt up and ran to stand in the indicated line. In a few Ehn I was
joined there by Emily and Luta. The other girls were being
sent to other lines.
		In a few Ehn more we were approached by a short, niuscular man in a half tunic. He came walking towards us, across
the yard. He had emerged from one of the mill buildings. His
arms were extremely thick. There was a whip at his belt.
		When he stopped near us, we knelt, a common behavior for slave girls in the presence of a free man.
		"Stand," he said.
		We stood. We straightened our bodies. He walked about slowly.
		"So," he said, "it is the usual collection of she-urts and
she-tarsks. Strn, I see at least two of some interest. What'is
your name?"
		"Tiffany, Mastcr~' I said, frightened.
		"We are going to get on well, aren't we, Tiffany?" he
asked.
"Yes, Master," I said, shuddering. He felt mee
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Emily," said the girl behind me.
		"We are going to get on well, aren't we, Emily?" he asked.
		"Yes, Master!" she said.
		He then stepped back from us. "You are slaves," he said.
"I am Borkon, your whip master. Within these walls you will
be to me as my own slaves, in all ways. Is that understood?"
		"Yes, Master," murmured several of the girls.
		"Louder," he said, "all of youl"
	"Yes, Master!" we shouted.  -
		"You will work, eat' drink, juice, sleep, dream and excrete upon my command," he said.
		"Yes, Master!" we said.
"if any of you retain any pride or courage," he said, "I
will remove it from you. It will get in the way of your being
a good slave. Do any of you retain any pride or courage?"
		"No, Master!" we cried.
		"I do," said Luta.
		"Step forth, and kneel," he said.
		Luta obeyed. Although she was a large, strong woman and could have beaten any of us, smaller, weaker women, she
looked small, and suddenly timid, kneeling before Borkon.
		"What is your name?" he asked.
		"Luta, Master," she said.
		"How long have you been a slave, Luta?" he asked, remov- ing the whip from his belt.
		"A week, Master," she said.
		"It is amazing that a woman such as you has survived this long," he said. "I would have thought you would have been
slain by now."
		"Master?" she faltered.
		"On all fours," he said.
		She obeyed.
		He then lashed her, and she, in a moment, sobbing and
gasping, disbelief in her eyes, was on her belly in the yard, a
whipped slave.
		"Are you not supposed to be on all fours?" he asked.
		She struggled, sobbing, to this position.
		"I am authorized, if I wish," he said, "to kill you, or have you killed."
		She shuddered.
		"I do not find you particularly pleasing," he said. "I am
considering whether or not to have you fed to sleen this eve-
fling."
		"Master?" she asked.
		"You are a slave," he said. "You will serve and yield, or
die. I will let you make the decision."
		"Master?" she asked, frightened.
		"The decision is yours," he said. "Choose as you will. It
inakes no difference to me, one way or the other."
		"Please, Master!" she cried.
		"Do you choose to serve and yield, or die?" he asked. "I
give you ten Ilin in which to make your decision. One! Two!
Three!"
		"I will serve and yield!" she cried.
		"Speak more clearly," he said.
		"I choose to serve and yield!" she wept.
"And without reservation?" he asked.
	"And without reservation!" she saji'
	"Do you desire to serve and#eld, and with no reservatic
whatsoeverr he asked.
	"Yes"' she said' "I desire to serve and yield and with
reservations Whatsoever!"
	"And do you beg to serve and yield' and with no reserv
tions whatsoeverr he asked.
	"Yes"' yes," she echoed. "I beg to serve and yield and with
no reservations whatsoever!"
"You may now kiss my feet," he Sai&
Luta, desperateiy, humbly, fertirfully, kissed his feet
"More," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do you now have any pride?" he asked.
"No, Master," she said.
"Do you now have any courage?" he asked.
"No, Master," she said.
"Kiss the whip," he said, "and as a slave."
Luta did so, fearfufly.
"Return now to your place," he said
	Yes Master," she said and, rising up, hurried to her place
"We are all going to be pleasing, and meet our work quota aren't we?" inquired Borko.
	"Yes' Master!" we said, including Lutt
	He then lifted his whip to the lips of the first girl in the
he. "I kiss the whip of Borkon," she said
	"Who do you love?" he asked.
	"Borkon," she said.
	In a moment or two I felt the whip pressed, too, against
my lips. I kissed it "I have kissed the whip of Borkon," I
said
"Who do you lover' he asked'
"Borkon," I said
	In another moment or two, after Emily, he stood before
Luta. She, too, kissed the whip.
	"Who do you love?" he asked.
	"Borkon," she said "I love Borkon!"
	In another moment or two we were foflowing Borkon
across the yard and toward one of the buildings. I knew I
would have to please him well. He was my whip master.
	I saw him ~iaking out the slave sack in the utility ro~
This was not the frst time I had been unchained and hurried tothe utility room
"Get in," he said.
Before he had taken the sack from its shelf he had ordered
nie to the floor of the utility room, to my back on the dusty
boards.
"Lie there and juice;" he had told mc. 'Waste no time
ebout it."
	I had lain there and, briefly, shut my eyes and thought of
his might and power, and my helpless slavery, and then I was
ready, almost in a moment, to raceive his lie had had me
swifily.
	I crawled into the sack, and it was pulled up, over my
head, and laced shut I then felt it dragged across the floor.
He then lifed it up, partly, I now sitting in it, and left it
against a wall. He then left The confinement was not intended
to be one of full security, ofcourse.  If it had been, then I
would have been bound and gagged within it, that I might
be able, by fingernails or teeth, to attack seams or cut
through the leather. Indeed, if I caused the least bit of damage
the slave sack, I had little doubt but what I would be well
whipped, sent in the slave sack is, incidentally, a
form of  Punishnient for a girl. l did not think,
that I was being punisished At least I did not know
anything that I had done which might have displeased
As always; as far as I knew,I had tried to be such to
him that he would find me pleasing. Perhaps he was angry
with me because of the welt on my face, but that was not my
fault. Last night I had been struck by Luta. If he wanted to
punish someone he should have punished her. She was very
jealous of Emily and myself, who seemed clearly to be
Borkon's favorites. Last night, after supper, my slave needs
much upon me, I had begged to jtiice for Borkon. He had
permitted this in his quarters. When I had been returned to
the dormitory and the door had been locked behind me, she
had been up and waiting. My face was still sore. lt. was not
my fault that she did not find herself being put to Borkon's
pleasure. He certainly was free to choose her, and not Emily
or myself, or one of our other chain sisters. It was no secret
in the mill that she regarded herself as Borkon's slave in
~ome special sense. Ever since he had whipped and con-
quered her in the yard she had been very possessive about
him. She was the best worker on the chain. Yet he scarcely
seemed to notice her. Sometimes she would even try to be a
bit dilatory or recalcitrant, to attract his attention, but corn-
monly this only earned her a beating, and that usually from a
subordinate whip master. Interestingly, in her slavery, Luta
had ceased to be ugly. Her ugliness had been, it was now
clear, largely a matter of expression, as it often is, expressions
which had made manifest her frustration and hatred, and her
misery. Though she was now no longer ugly she remained, I
suppose, rather homely and plain. On the other hand, this
homeliness or plainness, at times, seemed touched with a vul-
nerability and softness which, especially when she was near
Borkon, made it seem almost beautiful. The exercises and
diet of the slave, of course, had improved her figure consider-
ably. I did not see, frankly, why Borkon did not give her a
trial at his feet. I did not think she was all that bad, really.
Too, he was not Gor's most handsome fellow. Too, I would
	think it should count for something with a man if the woman
desires to serve him deeply and fully in all ways, and is in
love with him.
		It was hot and stuffy in the slave sack, but it was, at least, a respite from the work with the loom. It is tiring, Alin in
and Ahn out, standing, chained, by the loom, operating it.
There is the raising and lowering of the warp threads to form
the lines between which the weft is placed. There is the fling-
ing back and forth of the shuttle, inserting the weft. There is
the moving of the batten, attached to the reed, thrusting the
	KAJIRA OF GOR	275
weft bac~ and locking it in place, Too, one must feed the
cloth properly and remove it &orrectly. One must attend to
the rollers, the weights and stretchers.
	I suddenly became aware that hands were unlacing the
slave sack.
	"You are Tiffany, aren't you?" said a voice. "Corpe out of
there."
	"Yes, Master," I said. It was one of the mill officials. He
Was over ten work chains.
	"Why aren't you at your loom?" he asked.
	"I don't know, Master," I said.
	"what were you doing in there?" he asked.
	"I don't know, Master," I said. "Perhaps I was being pun
ished."
	"what for?" he asked.
	"I do not know, Master," I said.
	"Come along," he said. "Aemilianus, the nephew of Min-
tar, is in the mill."
	"What is he doing here?" I asked.
	"It is supposedly merely a surprise inspection," he said,
"but one supposes there is something more to it."
	I then, almost running, hurried after him, returning to my
loom.
	"Borkon should be trounced," he said.
	I quickly obeyed.
	Borkon, not looking pleased at all, was standing nearby.
	"Step forth, here, child," said the young man, "and turn
slowly before me."
	I complied, inspected as a naked slave. I saw Emily at the
loom next to mine. The shackle had been removed from her
left ankle. She was standing near her loom, naked. She held
her tunic in her right hand.
	"Borkon, you sly fellow," chided the young man, "you have
been holding out on us."
	He who had fetched me from the slave sack, Borkon's im-
mediate superior, cast him a glowering look.
	"You are Tiffany, are you not?" asked the young man.
said the well-dressed young man, in
short, silken mantle, with a golden
"Here is the maid from Loom chain her. Now, child, stand here,
the silken tunic, clasp at the left
"No, do not and remove your tunic"
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	"You may kneel," he said. Swiftly I did so. "You are
pretty, my dear," he said. "You may open your knees.
Swiftly I did so.
	He then turned to Emily. "You may kneel, Emily," ~
said. Swiftly she knelt. "You, too; are pretty," he smile~
Swiftly she opened her knees, baring to Him tender intima
cies, enslaved, and the sweet interior softness of her thighs.
	"Your name, 'Emily,' is very beautiful," he said. "As you
probably know, it is a barbarian coriliption of nyge, my name.
It seems that fate has thrown us together." The gens name
the clan name.
	"Perhaps, Master," she said, frightened. "Thank you, Ma
ter."
	"And you are a barbarian, are you not, Tiffany?" he asked
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	"And a very pretty one," he said.
	"Thank you, Master," I said.
	"Can you believe it, Borkon," asked the young man, "if
were not for hearsay information, casual remarks overheard
at the office, I would not even have known that two suc
beauties graced our looms."
	Borkon was silent
	"These are the two beauties of the mill," said the your
man to a tall, stout fellow standing nearby.
	"They are certainly pretty," said the stout fellow. "But they
have, in my opinlon, many lovely women at the looms."
stout fellow was the mill master. I had seen him only twice
before in the previous five months.
	"These are the best of the current crop," said the your
man.
	"Perhaps," said the mill master.
	"Have them sent to my house," said the young man, ai~
turned away.
	Emily and I looked at one another, frightened.
	Borkon looked angry. Luta was beaming.
	"I beg to please yQu, Master," said Luta, putting herself
the feet of Borkon. The chain was on her left ankle, go
behind her; by it she was fastened to the loom. She had h
head down, kissing at his feet. Never before, as far as I kne
had she been so bold. It was no secret in the mill, of cours
that she was the slave of Borkon. Indeed, she had been
since that first day in the yard, some five months ago.
	"what need have I of a tarsk sow?" he snarled.
	She lifted her bead to him, lovingly, pleadingly. I saw that
the diet and exercise had shaped her excitingly. Her face, in
its plainness and homeliness, seemed somehow, now, in its
softness, its tenderness, its vulnerability, very beautiful. 'Take
me then to your lair and rut with me there, Master," she said.
"I beg to be the tarsk sow to your boar."
	He looked down at her, startled. "Perhaps," he said.
	I felt a slave bracelet closed about my left wrist. The com-
panion bracelet, on its three links of chain, was then closed
about the right wrist of Emily.
	We looked at one another, frightened.
	"Come along, Girls," said the fellow who had fetched me
forth from the slave sack, he who was Borkon's immediate
superior.
	"Yes, Master," said Emily.
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	We then, naked, braceleted together, carrying our slave
tuics, followed him down the long aisle between the looms.
	I tried to hold the head of the man in my bands, and kiss
at him, and lick at the side of his neck, but he, engaged in
conversation, brushed me to the side. I knelt back, restraining
a whimper. I wanted to touch him. I was a slave He would
not permit me to do so.
	Teela, first girl, from across the room, signaled to me, and
I, bowing, slipped back, rose to my feet and hurried to her
side.
	"Wine," said she, "to the master."
	I hurried to the serving table and fetched a vessel of wine.
I then went behind the feasting table, behind which the men
sat, talking. Some musicians were playing, at one side of the
room. I ~elt behind the young Aemilianus. "Wine, Master?"
I whispered. "Yes," said he, extending his goblet. "Thank
you, Tiffany," he said. "Yes, Master," I said, and withdrew.
The courtesy of Aemilianus, a habit with him, probably a
function of the gentleness of his upbringing, in no way af-
fected the totality of the bondage in which his girls were
kept. whereas one need not thank a slave, one may, of
course, if one wishes, thank them. From the point of view of
the girl, since she knows she is in a collar, being treated with
courtesy can sometimes be more frightening than being
treated with rudeness or cruelty, or, as is more often the case,
with gentle, intimate, absolutely unqualiiied authority. Being
a slave she knows that a master's invitation to remove a
garment is equivalent to a categorical command to strip. She
hastens to obey.
		I went then, at a sign from Teela, after replacing the wine
vessel on the serving table, to the side of the room, where I
knelt down beside Emily.
		An Aim or so earlier we had been in the kitchen. "Stand straighter, Girls," had said Teela, inspecting us. "You are not bending over looms now."
		"You are pretty in your slave silk, Emily," had said Teela.
		"Thank you, Mistress," she had said.
		"You, too, Tiffany," said Teela.
		"Thank you, Mistress," I had said. We both wore scarlet
pleasure silk. It was diaphanous, and left little doubt as to the
lineaments of our figures. We wore the collar of Aemilianus.
We now belonged to him. Twelve copper tarsks for each of
us had been transferred to the accounts of Mill 7. On our left
ankles we each wore a tied string of slave bells. These jangled
sensuously when we moved. On our upper left arms we each
wore a coiled, barbaric, snakelike arrnlet.
		"Although you have been purchased as house girls," said
Teela, and surely we need more of them around here, you
will also be expected upon occasion, as tonight, to serve at
dinner. Indeed, I suspect that the Master has more in mind
from you than simple domestic services."
		Emily and I looked at one another.
		"The musicians are already playing," said Teela, " and the
other girls are on the floor. I shall soon send you both out,
too, on the floor."
		"Yes, Mistress," said Emily.
		"Yes, Mistress," I said.
		"Remember that you are not lofty free women," she said.
"Remember that you are only female slaves. You exist for
the service and pleasure of men. When you go out there drip
with obedience and sensuousness. Let every glance, every
look and movement, signify to n'en the promise of untold
pleasures, and if any of them should so much as snap his fin-
gers, see that you fulfill that promise and a thousand times
more."
	"Yes, Mistress!" we said.
	"There will be no free women present," she said. "That
will make things easier."
	That was a relief for us The frustrations and chilling
hatred of free women for their imbonded sisters, and their
power to inflict pain on them, tended naturally to preclude,
or inhibit, the performances of slaves. Their presence, too, of
course, tended to have an adverse effect on the satisfactions
obtainable by the free men present. If a free woman is
present, for example, one is scarcely likely to tear the silk
from a laughing, squealing slave and rape her on the table.
Female slaves commonly wear relatively modest garments
and serve unobtrusively and decorously when~free women are
present. Except for the perfection of their service, and their
collars and the relative brevity, openness and looseness of-their
garments, one might not even know they were slaves, unless
perhaps, of course, one looked into their eyes, or touched
them.
	"Remember the many things I have told you,9' said Teela.
	"Yes, Mistress," we said.
	"Are we not too scantily clad, Mistress?" asked Emily.
	"Not for pleasure slaves," said Teela.
	"Yes, Mistress," said Emily. We addressed Teela as
"Mistress" for she was, in the house of Aemilianus, first girl.
	"You are distressed to appear before the master so ex-
posed?" asked Teela.
	"Yes, Mistress," she said.
	"Because you likc him?" she asked.
	"Yes," she said.
	"And I think he likes you, too," said Teela.
	"Do you, Mistressr' begged Emily, eagerly.
	"Yes," said Teela, "but remember that you are to him only
as a slave."
	"Yes, Mistress," she said.
	''Surely he saw you naked when he bought you," said
Teela.
	"Yes, Mistress," said Emily, her head down. Men do not
buy clothed women.
	"Then you have nothing to hide," said Teela. "Similarly, as
a slave, your body is public."
	"Yes, Mistress," said Emily.
	"Put aside all concern with your own seif-iniage," said
Teela. "Your only concern now is the pleasing of your mas-
ter."
	"Yes, Mistress," said Emily.
	"Please him well," smiled Teela.
	"I shall try, Mistress," said Emily.
	"Tiffany," said Teela.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said.
	"Do you enjoy the house?" she asked.
	"Yes, Mistress!" I said. Though I had been here only two
days,, some forty Alin, I reveled in its contrast with the mills.
It was clean, and spacious and quiet, and ha~ lovely grounds,
surrounded by a high, white wall, in which was an ornate,
barred gate. Here I was well rested and well fed. My duties
were light, usually those of a maid, dusting and cleaning,
making beds, tidying rooms, and such. Sometimes, too, I
helped in the kitchen. I did not have to wear the mill unl-
form, bearing the sign for the enterprises of Mintar, but
wore, instead, usually, a light, white house tunic, similar to
that often worn by tower slaves. I even had access to a bath.
Similarly my kennel was comfortable and, for a kennel,
spacious. I could not stand erect in it but there was more
than enough room to stretch out and roll about. The gate in
the kennel was a small one. It was barred, and set in the
barred side of the kennel facing the corridor. It is common to
have one side of a kennel open, except for the bars. The girl
is always, you see, to be available to the eyes of the master.
He may look upon her whenever he chooses, day or night.
The small gate is also common in slave kennels. The girl,
comm~ only, accordingly, enters and leaves the kennel on all
fours. She is, after all, an animal. Too, it is useful in various
leashing and chaining arrangements. In this house, as in most,
the girl is kept naked in the kennel. I did not mind the tiny
gate of the kennel, however, or my observability and nudity
within it. I much preferred its semi-privacy to the locked dor-
mitory at the mill. Too, its comforter, blankets and pillow
were a welcome change from the flat, straw-filled mat and thin
blanket on the cement floor of the dormitory.
	"Do you want to go back to the mill?" asked Teela.
	"No, Mistress!" I said.
	"It would be well for both of you, you, too, Emily," said
Teela, "to remember that you are both on trial here. You
have not been brought here to weave cloth on a loom. And
you have not been brought here simply to dust and make
beds. Your slavery in this house involves more extended ser-
vices."
	"Yes, Mistress," we said. We had no doubt as to what
these more extended services were. About our upper left arms
were golden, snakelike armlets. About our left ankles were
tied slave bells. Our bodies could scarcely feel the lightness of
the slave silk on them.
	"You must now decide," said Teela, "whether you wish to
serve the pleasures of men, and fully, or you wish to return
to the mill. In a sense, you must decide, really, what you are,
and how you wish to live. I commend to your attention i~he
noble alternative, to be chosen by all truly free women, of re-
turning to the mill, of returning to ti~e back-breaking, repeti-
tious labor of the loom. The alternative, of course, is so
dreadful I scarcely dare mention it. It is to serve men, to be-
long to them, to be at their beck and call, to be their willing,
obedient, eager, shameless, helpless slave."
	Emily and I regarded one another.
	"Sluts choose the collar aud the helpless service of men,"
she said. "Women who are truly noble and free choose the
mill." She looked at me. "Tiffany?" she asked.
	"I choose the service of men," I said.
	"Then you are a slave and a slut," she said.
	"Yes, Mistress," I said, This admission seemed to me very
liberating.
"Emily?" asked Teela.
	"I, too, choose the service of men," she said, "especially
that of Aemilianus I"
	"You, too, then, are a slave and a slut," said Teela.
	"Yes, Mistress," said Emily.
	"But that you would shamelessly choose to be pleasure
slaves over noble mill girls does not mean that masters must
see fit to accord you such a slavery. It is up to you to prove
to them that you have the aptitude, the talent, the disposi-
tions, the desires and reflexes to be even considered for such
a slavery."
	"Yes, Mistress," we said.
	"I am going to send you forth now on the floor," said
Teela. I heard the slave bells on my ankle jangle. The sound,
sensuous and barbaric, startled me. "If you are not both
found sufficiently pleasing," she said, "both of you, and cer-
tainly you, Tiffany, will be back in the mill by tomorrow
night."
		"Yes, Mistress," we said. I found myself wishing that
Aemilianus had fotind me as fetching as he apparently had
Emily. I thought my tulal was likely to be harder thali hers.
		"Mistress!" said Emily.
		"Yes?" asked Teela.
		"Tiffany and I are self-confessed sluts and slaves. You have forced us to face this truth about ourselves, and admit it."
		"Yes?" said Teela.
		"what of you?" asked Emily. "You are lovely, and beautiful, and in a collar. What are you?"
		"A bold question," said Teela.
		"Forgive me, Mistress," said Emily.
		"I, too, of course, am only a slave and a slut," said Teela.
"And I love it!" Then she kissed us both. Then she drew back
from us. "You will be slaves out there before free men," she
saii "Too, there will be no free women present. Revel in
your womanhood and manifest it shamelessly!"
		"Yes, Mistress!" we said.
		"Go fortb, Slaves," she said
		"Yes, Mistress!" we said and, with a jangle of slave bells, hurried to join the othergirls on the floor.
		"Your knees," I whispered to Emily, "open them."
		"Thank you, Tiffany," said Emily, spreading her knees.
'Tile knees of the pleasure slave, when she is in a kneeling
position, are to be kept open before the master, and, indeed,
before all free men. Emily, in the same room with Aemili-
anus, was still struggling with her modesty. In the mill, of
course, Aemilianus had had her open her knees before him.
		We knelt side by side at on~ side of the room. What little
serving was being done was now being attended to by the
other girls. How beautiful they were. And how natural, and
perfect, and right and fitting it seemed that they, in their
slightness and beauty, were serving men. I knelt there, with
Emily, to one side, my knees open, in pleasure silk, a collar
locked on my neck, a barbaric, golden, coiling ornament on
my upper left arm, slave bells tied on my left ankle. I knelt
there, ready to serve. How strange it was, I thought. How far
I had come! How far away, now, seemed the perfume counter
in the department store on Long Island, the photographer's
studio, my apartment. I remembered that pretty, mercenary,
greedy little clerk at the perfume counter. She was no longer
free. She had now been made a collared slave girl. She had
once been Miss Tiffany Collins. She was now an animal, and
nameless in her own right, but masters had seen fit to put the
name "Tiffany" on her.
"Tiffany," whispered Emily.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Isn't Aemilianus handsome?" she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
	"I want to crawl to him," she whispered, "and beg to serve
his pleasure."
	"Do not break position," I warned her.
	"No," she whispered.
	"Perhaps he will let you serve him later," I said.
	"I hope so," she whispered. "I hope so!"
	"You like him," I observed.
	"I think that I am his love slave," she whispered.
	"It is too early for you to know something like that," I
said. I did not know, of course, whether it was or not. Some-
times these things can be told at a glance.
	"I want him to whip me," she said.
	"Why?" I asked.
	"Because I love him," she said.
	Then, at a glance from Teela, across the room, we were
both quiet.
	I was somewhat upset. The men had had, on the whole, a
very decorous supper. I had thought, given our garb and
bells, that we might have been expected to serve in more ex-
acting and intimate fashions than we had been called upon to
do. The supper, on the other hand, had apparently been a
rather normal one. To be sure, the men, being men, and no
free women being present, had had the sup~ per, for their
pleasure, served t6 them by beautiful, revealingly clad
women, collared slaves.
	I glanced over at Emily. She could not keep her eyes off
Aemilianus.
	Some women desire occasionally, or at least once, to be
whipped by the man they love. This has to do, it seems, with
deep psychological feelings, feelings probably connected with
the woman's desire to submit and fulfill her biological des-
tiny, 'this perhaps being a manifestation, within the human
species, of the dominance/submission ratios endemic in na-
ture. This involves, of course, an intense sentient interaction
with the lover. Intense emotions, sensations and feelings are
involved. In this situation the woman, who desires to sur-
render and yield, understands that she is now at the mercy of
the lover, and is helpless under his will. It gives her an oppor-
tunity, too, of course, to show the lover that she, in her love,
and in the intensity of her feelings, offers herself up to him.
		I had once been Tiffany Collins, of Earth. I was now a col-
lared slave girl on Gor. I touched the collar. It was light, but,
too, it was efficient and inflexible. I supposed it would not do
to tell anyone but I love& it on me. I felt, somehow, it be-
longed on me. It was right, I felt, somehow, on me. But, too,
sometimes I was terrified to wear it. I knew that it meant that
I was owned, and at the mercy of men.
		I knelt there. I was no longer free. I could now be bought and sold. I must obey.
My major fear now was that I might be sent back the Mill.	I, and, indeed, the other girls, had been given little or no
Opportunity to prove to the masters that the slave bells tied
on our ankles were not an inadvertence or a mistake. At van-
ous times during the supper I had tfled to be attentive to one
man or another, and as a slave, and as my belly had seemed
to beg, but, each time, I had been brushed away or dismissed.
I had been rejected. This stung my vanity, as well as increased
the frustrations of my scorned femininity. I feared, too, it be-
tokened that I, perhaps found insufficiently pleasing, might
soon be returned to the mill.
	I watched the men, talking, and finishing their liqueurs. I
watched, too, the one or two girls still in attendance on them.
They were beautiful, in their grace and serving. How perfect
and natural it seemed that they should be serving. I touched
niy collar. Women by nature belong to men, I thought, and I
am a woman. Why had men on Earth, I wondered, allowed
themselves to be tricked out of their sovereignty by man-
hating and vicious women, abetted by frustrated, weakling
males? When will they take us again in hand, I wondered,
and own us? But the men ,on Earth, with few exceptions, I
feared, were lost to manhood.
	Teela came and knelt down beside us, only another slave
girl.
	"May I speak?" I whispered.
	"Yes," she said.
	"I have tried to be attractive," I said. "I have tried to be
desirable. I have tried to serve well. But no one has taken me.
No one has used me."
	"No one has been taken. No one has been raped," she said.
"The men talk politics and business."
	"May I inquire as to the nature of these discussions?'' I
asked.
	"The usual rumors about a truce between ourselves and
Cos," she said. "In business, the master is sounding out his
colleagues about the plausibility of a venture involving feast
slaves."
	"What are they?" I asked.
	"Girls, maids, entertainers, dancers, rented in groups to
private individuals or organizations for feasts, and such," she
said.
	"Such enterprises exist now, do they not?" I asked.
	"He is considering the desirability of investing in the area,
and perhaps forming his own company to enter the field."
	"I see," I said. "But trained girls are expensive, are they
not?"
	"Yes," she said.
	"But mill girls are cheap, and might be trained," I said.
	~~Drecisely,~~ said Teela.
	I trembled.
	"Emily! Tiffany!" called Aemilianus, sitting behind the
long, low table, with his friends.
	We qulckly leapt up and ran to kneel on the tiles before
him.
	"These are mill girls?" asked a man.
	"Yes," said Aemilianus, "but now, as you can see, they are
not in the company uniform."
	"Some silk, some cosmetics, makes qulte a difference," said
a man.
	"They cost me only twelve copper tarsks each,1' said
Aemilianus.
	"But that is scarcely fair, Aemilianus," said a man. "You
purchased them from your. uncle's mill. Had you bought
them in an open market they doubtless would have cost you
more."
		"something more, doubtless," said Aemilianus.
		"It is nice to know that such girls occasionally come to the
mills," said a man.
		"I see that I shall have to make more inspections of
uncle's mills," said another young man, one who, I
gathered, must be a cousin of Aemilianus.
		"It is not that rare, actually," ~aid Aemilianus. "Too,
remember there are several mills. Too, almost any girl, w~th
tile proper diet, exercise and training, and properly costumed
and made-up, and knowing herself subject to the whip, can
become of considerable interest."
		'~hat is true," said a man.
		"Pausanias, who is the mill master in Mill 7," said Aemili-
anus, 'has informed me that, in his opinion, there are many
lovely girls even in Mill 7."
		"Interesting," said a man.
		"Are these two," asked a man, "from Mill 7?"
		"Yes," said Aemilianus. "They are the two
found there.
		"You needn't depend on the mills, of course,"
'You can buy in the market."
"You could also buy trained slaves to man.
"They are more expensive," said a man.
"That is true," he agreed.
		"I shall show you one advantage of the
anus. "Emily," he said, "do you wish to mill?"
		"No, Master!" she said.
		"Tiffany?" he asked.
		"No, Master!" I cried.
		"The motivation of mill girls, as you can see," said Aemilianus, "is high. Accordingly, they may be expected to train
swiftly, desperately and superbly."
"Have you discussed your ideas with Mintar?" asked a man.
		"Yes," said Aemilianus, "and he has given me license to proceed."
		"Would this be involved with the enterprises of Mintar?" asked a man.
		"No," said Aemilianus. "It would become one of the enterprises of Aemilianus."
My uncle, of course, will extend the initial loans at nomi-
nal rates," said Aemilianus.
	"I see," said the man.
	"I am not sure this is practical," said a man.
	"It will be a difficult field to break into," said another man.
"It is a question," said Aemilianus, "of providing a quality
service at competitive prices."
	"Perhaps," said a man.
	"Emily, would you please come around the table and kneel
here, beside me?" asked Aemilianus.
	Emily instantly leapt to her feet and scurried to kneel in
the indicated position.
	This left me, somewhat disconcerting me, alone before the
table.
	"Would you please stand up and remove your silk, Tif-
fany?" said Aemilianus.
	Irnmediately I stood and slipped from the silk. I held it
dangling, from my right hand.
"That is a mill girl?" asked a man, skeptically,
"Yes," said Aemilianus.
	"Those are slave curves, if I have ever seen them," said a
man.
	"True," said another.
	"You are very pretty, Tiffany," said Aemilianus.
	"Thank you, Master," I said.
	"How long have you been enslaved?" he asked.
	"Some five months, Master," I said.
	"And are you trained?" he asked.
	"Only by the instructions of some men who have used
me," I said, "and, of course, to work the loom."
	There was laughter.
	"We may then say, may we not," asked Aemilianus, Eethat
for most practical purposes you are untrained."
	"Yes, Master," I said.
"Drop the silk," he said.
I did.
"Now get on your belly on the tiles, Tiffany," he said.
	Immediately I lowered myself to my belly on the tiles. I
looked up at them, the palms of my hands on the floor.
	"Are you familiar with floor movements, Tiffany?" he
asked.
	"A little, Master," I said. "I saw some once in a slaver's
house." This had been in the house of Kliomenes, when I had
been taken on a tour there long ago by Drusus Rancius. I
had been free then, of course. Now I was as much a slave as the girls I had seen there at the time.
		"I am going to signal to the musicians, Tiffany," said
Aemilianus. "When they begin to play, you may begin your
performance."
		"Yes, Master," I whispered. When I had seen such movements in the house of Kuomenes I had never dreamed that
they might, horrifyingly enough, one day be required of me.
In few modalities is a woman's slavery made clcarer or more
manifest than when she must perform floor movements, than
when she must, in effect, dance before men, never rising
higher than her knees.
		Then the music began.
		Almost as soon as I had begun to dance I saw Emily tear back her slave silk, exposing her breasts to Aemilianus, and
to kiss him. He held her against him with his left arm
about her body and held her two hands, their wrists crossed,
in his grip, captured, accoss his body. He held her in this
fashion, helpless. And both, then, were watching me.
		Once I had been Tiffany Collins. I now writhed, a Gorean slave, at the feet of men.
		I do not know how long the music lasted, perhaps only
about four or five Ehn. Then, swirling and climaxing, it sud-
denly ended. I lay, gasping and sweating, on my belly on the
tiles. I looked up. I hoped that I had pleased the masters.
		"Very good, Tiffany," said Aemilianus.
		"Superb," said one man. "Superb!" said anothere
		"What do you want for her?" asked a man.
		"I will give you a silver tarsk," said another. I looked wildly at him. I wondered if I would be sold. A silver tarsk! I
wished Drusus Rencius had heard that! He had thought I
would only bring fifteen or twenty copper tarsksl And I was
not even trained!
		"You did very well, Tiffany," said Aemilianus.
		"Thank you, Master," I said.
		"Did you see, Gentlemen," asked Aemilianus, "and she
only an untrained mill girl."
		"Yes, Aemilianus," said a man. "Yes," said another. "Yes,"
said yet another.
		"Teela," said Aemilianus.
		"Yes, Master," she said, quickly.
	'Take Emily to my room and chain her by the neck to the
foot of my couch."
	"Yes, Master," she said.
	"Thank you, Master," cried Emily.
	"On your feet, Slave," said Teela to Emily. "Cross your
wrists, touching, behind your back, close your eyes and put
down your head. You will uncross your wrists and open your
eyes only when you feel the locking of the couch collar on
your neck."
	"Yes, Mistress," said Emily.
	She was then led from the room, bent over, by the hair,
her eyes closed and her wrists crossed, and touching, behind
her back.
	"You are going to be sent to school, Tiffany," said Aemilianus.
	"Thank you, Master," I said.
	"Does that please you?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said. "I have never been taught to read."
There was laughter.
"It is not that sort of school," he said.
	"Gentlemen," said Aemilianus, "and kind sirs, I thank you
for your presence here this evening, and for your kind atten-
tion. Your comments, your thoughts and your counsel have
been much appreciated. If aiiy of you wish to remain the
night, feel free to make use of the rooms which were put at
your disposal before supper. Similarly if any of the slaves in-
terest you, any of those who served you, or any other in the
house, with the exception of our little Tiffany, take her to
your room. She is yours for the night. If you are not fully
pleased in the morning, let me know and I will have her thor-
oughly punished, and then sent to you for the week, that she
may learn to improve her service."
	"I will take this one," said a man, indicating one of the
girls.
	"And I will take this one," said another.
	These two girls ran to their masters of the evening and
knelt before them.
	"I would like to have the one you call 'Teela' licking at my
feet," said a strong, mature fellow.
	"She will be sent to your room," said Aemilianus.
	"My thanks, Aemilianus," he said.
		"And what of this meaningless, squirming little pleasure bundle?" asked one of the men looking at me.
		I was now kneeling before the table. I blushed. I did not
know if I appreciated being referred to as a meaningless,
squirming little pleasure-bundle. On the other hand, these
were Gorean men and I knew that I, in their hands, if they
wished, would find myself transformed into little more than
just such a squirming pleasure-bundle. I had learned this
from Tenrak on the ifoor of a slave wagon.
		"With your permission," said Aemilianus, "I would rather
she did not serve tonight. I would like her to get a good rest.
I would like her to get a good start in the morning."
		"As you wish, Aemilianus," said a man.
		"I am not td serve tonight, Master?" I asked.
		"No," he said. "You must get up early tomorrow."
		"Master?" I asked.
		"You must get up early for school," he said. -
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		I was pulled to the post, close to it and facing it. The
heavy. belt, with the ring on it, through which the loose post
strap passed, that strap looping the post and threaded through
the belt ring, was put about my belly, and buckled shut,
tightly, behind the small of my back. I could now move
about the post but, given the post strap and the belt ring,
could not be further than six inches from it.
		"When you are more experienced, you wrn not need
harness," said the whip master. "Too, we will let you try
sometimes with your hands tied behind you."
		"Yes, Master," I said.
		"Address yourself now to the post, Tiffany," he
"Make it sweat. Make it cry out with pleasure."
		"Yes, Master," I said.
	"Next'," said the whip master.
	I approached him and knelt before him. 'I wear your
chains, Master," I said, lifting them. "Do with me as you
will."
	"Again," said the man.
	I rose to my feet and, facing him, head down, backed
away a few paces. Then I lifted my head again.
	"Remember, Tiffany," he said, "he will."
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	I again approached him and knelt before him. "I wear
your chains, Master," I said, lifting them. "Do with me as
you will."
	"Better," he said. "Next."
"See how Tiffany uses the cushion," said the whip master.
"That is good."
	A girl must know how to use the cushions, just as the
chains and furs.. These cushions are usually large and soft.
These are the sorts of cushions which are sometimes found at
the foot of, or in the vicinity of' thrones and curule chairs,
generally intended for the use of slaves. They may also, of
Course, be found in private dwellings. Sometimes a slave must
remain on her cushion. Sometimes she is sent to it for punish-
ment. She is taught to kneel upon it, to curl seductively on or
about it, to lie across it, on her stomach or back, to hold It in
Certain ways, and so on.
	"Good, Tiffany. Good," said the whip master.
"You are all slaves," said the whip master.
	We all sat facing him, our backs against the wail of the
training room. The palms of our hands were flat on the floor
at our sides and our legs were extended before us, the ankles
crossed, as though bound.
	"If you doubt that you are slaves, examine your thighs and
Consider your collared necks."
'We looked at one another. We were not in doubt that we
vere slaves.
The only question now is whether you will be adequate or
adequate slaves," he said. "This question, now that you are
slaves, is basically a question of whether you will choose
live or choose to die. That is your basic question. I suggest
you face it. Each of you must make your own choice. I
allow you against one mistake, One common to stupid or
uninformed girls. That is the mistake of thinking that you can escape the full implications of your position by merely
adopting what you think is slave behavior. That is not true.
Authentic slave behavior is motivated from within, and is the
natural manifestation of the yielded slave herself. The will
and consciousness within is that of a slave. This, then, issues
in authentic slave behavior. There are'many ways, responses
to physical and psychological tests, and subtle behavioral
cues, to tell if slave behavior is authentic or not. The choice,
thus, is, in effect, one of whether you choose to become a to-
tal slave, surrendered and obedient, in your mind as well as
your behavior, or die."
		"And this cut," said the woman, herself a slave, though
permitted a brief tunic, "is called the slave flame. See how it
comes down the back, swirling." She illustrated this with a
kneeling girl whose hair had been cut, trimmed and shaped in
this fashion. "This," she said, moving to the next girl, "is an
upswept fashion. It appears sophisticated. It is a hair-do fa-
vored by some free women, but it is not outlawed for slaves.
Its pretentiousness, suggesting superciliousness and arrogance,
contrasts nicely with the actual reality of the slave. The girl
who wears this must watch her step, lest the master grow im-
patient with her. If you are permitted, to wear this hair-do,
make certain that you, after an initial resistance, if he permits
it' yield to him as a particularly low and helpless girl. This
hair-do here, on Crystal, with the bun in the back, is favored
by many free women of the scribes. It, too, however, like the
upswept hair-do has not been outlawed for slaves. Its apparent
severity contrasts nicely with sexiness required of the slave.
She may be freed of its severity, and brought into the natural
modality of her yielding and submissive femininity, with as
little as a single tug, thusly. In contrast, regard Tiffany, who
has the shorn look. Some men like this in a woman. To be
sure, her hair is now growing out a bit. This is to be contrast-
ed again, of course, with the shaven head, commonly inflicted
only on a girl as a punishment or to protect her from lice
in close confinements, such as on a slave ship. Again, in the
matter of hair-dos as in all my instructions' to you, whether
having to do with perfumes, silks, cosmetics, ornamentation,
or whatever, you are to consider the total effect, the entire
ensemble."
	"Well done, T'iffany," he said. "You bring the whip well."
	He took it from between my teeth.
	"Thank you, Master," I said.
	"Next," he said.
	I knelt before him, my head down, the palms of my hands
On the tiles, in the fashion which Ligurious had required of
his girls. "I beg for love, Master," I whimpered. "I beg for
love!" I licked at his feet. "I beg for love, Master!" I said.
	"You do it very well," he said.
	I lifted my head, tears in my eyes. "But I do beg for love!"
I said. 'I have not been contented in weeks!"
	"How many of you other girls," asked the whip master, re-
garding the class, "beg for love?"
	"I, Master!" cried a girl. "I, Master!" cried others.
	"How many?" he asked.
	And there was not one girl, naked and in her collar, in the
entire class who did not raise her hand.
	"Good," said the whip master. "Then you are hungry."
	Our training then continued.
"No two masters are the same," said the whip master, "ex-
cept in so far as each is the total master, just as no two slaves
Eire the same, except that each is a total slave."
	We all sat facing him, our backs against the wall of the
Training room. The palms of our hands were flat on the floor
at our sides and our legs were extended 'before us, the ankles crossed, as though bound.
	"You must, accordingly, strive to understand, relate to,
serve and please the unique mdster in each man. You must
bring your own individual personalities and talents to bear on
his challenge. Try in your uniqueness to be perfect and
pecial for him in his uniqueness. Read him. Learn hirn. Be-
onie acutely aware of him. Be sensitive to his moods, and
heir changes. Find out what he wants from you, and then
ee that he gets it, and more. Find out what he wants you to
be and then be it, beyond his wildest dreams. Remember that
rou are the slave. You exist for his service and pleasure."
	"That is it, Tiffany," he said. "Stretch your limbs. Examine
their fairness. Now look at the master. That is how you take
bath before a man. Will he drag you forth and have you on
lie slippery tiles or will he take you in the bath itself?"
	"Do not forget to kiss the sandal, humbly, before eyeing it
on his foot," said the whip master, "just as, when you remove
them, you kiss them, before putting them away."
	"Yes, Master,'t I said.
	"Gently, Tiffany," said the whip master. "You are not rub-
bing down a tharlarion."
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	"Use the sponge well," he said. "Remember that it must
not only clean but caress, and do not forget, in this service,
to fondle and kiss the master, humbly and lovingly."
	I kissed the wet shoulder of the man in the bath, and then
kissed his cheek, through the wet canvas hood drawn over his
face. He moaned. He was a male slave.
	"Similarly," said the whip master, "do not forget to press
your body sometimes against that of the master, sometimes
seemingly inadvertently. Along these lines, for example, it is
easy, seemingly accidentally, to brush his lips with a pendant
breast. if his lips should part you might then press it more
closely against him, begging. You might then be cuffed back
in the water, but later you will doubtless 'be well used."
	I knelt before the whip master, anxiously lifting the tray to
him. He picked up one of the biscuits. He turned it over.
"This biscuit is burned'on the bottom," he said. "If this hap-
pens again, you will be whipped."
	"Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master."
	"Good, Ruby," said the whip master. "That is how to re-
move a man's tunic. Make it a sensuous experience for him,
in which you show him your slavery and your eagerness to
serve. You may replace your tunic, Abdar."
	"Yes, Master," said the hooded slave.
	"You next, Tiffany," said the whip master.
	"Yes, Master," I said.
	"These biscuits are acceptable," he said. "In fact, they are
good.''
	'Thank you, Master!" I said.
	"Good, Tiffany," said the whip master. "That is how you
belly to a man. Put your head down, now. Let me feel your
lips and tongue." "Yes, Master," I whimpered. "Good," he said.
"Later, too, when your hair reaches a suitable length, make
certain that it falls about the master's sandals." "Yes, Master,"
I said.
	I sensed that our training was coming to an end. We were
returning to various basics, almost as elementary as scales to
the musician, such things as basic kisses, caresses, position,
attitudes and movement~
	"Good," he said.
	I had once been Miss Tiffany Collins, of Earth. I now lay
on my belly on the tiles, naked and in a collar, licking and
kissing at the feet of a Gorean male. It was my hope that he
would find me pleasing, totally.
	"Attention, Class," said the whip master.
	We all straightened up, sitting, facing him, our backs
against the wall of the training room. The palms of our hands,
were flat on the floor at our sides and our legs were extended
before us, the ankles crossed, as though bound.'
	"The results of your tests, your examinations, are now in.
It is my pleasure to inform you that you have all passed."
	We dared not break position, so well trained we were, but
we cried out with pleasure. We had worked hard. We did not
wish to be fed to sleen, or, perhaps, if our internal slavery
was adequate, but our external performances insufficient,
being sent to a laundry or returned to a mill, where we might
have to remain perhaps indefinitely.
	"It is an excellent class, one of the best I have had," he
said.
	"Thank you, Master," said several of the girls.
	"Too," he said, "there is not one of you, as the tests have
shown, who is not an authentic slave; there is not one of you
who, from the bottom of her pretty belly, does not belong in
a collar."
	I knew this was true of me. I did not know, of course, if it
were true of the other girl or not. And the last doubts on the
rightness of the collar on my neck had been dispelled in my
training. I now knew it belonged there. I was pleased to have
been brought to Gor where I, whether I wished it or not, with
absolutely no compromise, would be put in it.
	"I am proud of all of you," said the whip master. "You are
all luscious and exciting sluts. Indeed, I think there is not one
of you would not bring a silver tarsk on the open market."
	We cried out, elated, to hear this. We looked at one an-
other, joy~in our faces. I almost lifted the palms of my hands
from the floor and uncrossed my ankles, but, of course I did
not do so. How pleased we were. What high praise this was.
We had not understood how valuable we might have become
as women.
		"But, remember," said the whip master, "you have, really,
learned only a litfie. You have been familiarized with only a
small selection of basic skills, apprised of only a handful of
fundamentals. Your education, when you leave here, is not
complete, but only begun. You may learn more in your first
few days out of school, in the practical contexts of bondage,
under the control and whips of masters, than you have here
in five weeks. But even then, remember that you, in your col-
lars, are still amateurs at slavery. You could not begin to
compete with an experienced girl. Continue to apply yourself,
to learn, to work, to love and serve. Some years from now
you may begin to grasp an inkling of what can be the skills,
the sensitivities and talents, the emotions, the depths of
feeling, of the slave The other side of the coin of freedom is
bondage. One cannot exist without the other. The master is
free and you are slave."
		We looked at one another. There was much in what he
said. We must strive desperately to please. We were, for most
practical purposes, new girls, untutored in our collars. Most
of us, even, were from the mills. We would be zealous to
please. Most masters are se~~itive to this. They are likely to
be kinder to an unskilled girl zealous to please than a skilled
one who permits her performances to lapse from standards of
perfection. She may, of course, at the master's whim, by vari-
ous correctional devices, be swiftly restored to zealousness.
Sometimes, too, of course, she is merely sold into a lower
slavery, that she may earnestly endeavor, perhaps through
years of effort, to work her way up again to, say, a single-
master-single-slave relationship. The 'mistake of even minutely
relaxing or reducing the quality of her service is not one a
girl is likely to make twice.
		"All that remains now," said the whip master, "is to giveyou some experience in the types of situations in which you
are likely, at least in your initial bondage applications, to find
yourself."
"Reniove your silk," he said.
I did so.
"Kneel," he said.
I did so.
Straighten your body," he said.
I did so. I knelt naked before Miles of Argentum, before his thronelike chair, on the tiles in his quarters, in Argentum.
"Your knees," he said.
I spread my knees even more widely before him.
"You are now known as Tiffany, I believe," he said, "of Feast Slaves, of the Enterprises of Aemilianus."
"I am Tiffany," I said, "of Feast Slaves, of the Enterprises of Aemilianus."
I never forget a face," he said. I was silent.
My entire group had been brought from Ar to Argentum,
I thought to entertain. This had been done at the expense of Miles of Argetituni.
Furthermore, much to the surprise and displeasure of the girls, who were perhaps by now
somewhat spoiled, we had been brought under heavy security. We had never, from the time we
had left the agency in Ar to the time we entered the grounds of the palace in Argentum, been out
of chains of one sort or another. I supposed that it was only I, of all the girls, and perhaps of all
those on the staff of the agency itself, who suspected the reasons for this trip to Argentum and
the rationale of the security. I did not think Miles of Argentum was particularly interested in
feast slaves, per ~e. Surely such might be rented in Argentum itself. I think rather he was
interested particularly in one feast slave. Tonight I had been brought to him, leashed and
braceleted. My keeper, a fellow from the agency, had then, in his quarters, freed nie of these
bonds and turned me over to him. He had rented me for the night.
"Thrust out Your breasts, Tiffany," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I lifted and straightened my back even more, sucking in my gut and putting
back my shoulders, this lifting the softness of my bosom brazenly to him, that of a slave girl, for his consideration or attentions.
"You are pretty, Tiffany," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"I enjoy commanding you," he said. "Yes, Master," I said.
"Are you a good lay, Tiffany?" he asked.
"Sonic men have found me acceptable, Master," I said.
"We are going to play a little game, Tiffany," he said.
"We are going to pretend that you are Sheila, the Tatrix ol Corcyrus," he smiled.
"But I am Tiffany," I said, frightened, "of Feast Slaves, ol the Enterprises of Aemilianus!"
"But we are going to pretend, aren't we?" he asked.
"As Master wishes," I said, fnghtened.
"Stand," he said.
I did so.
"Straighter," he said.
I straightened up, even more.
He then, from a chest at the side of the room, fetched forth a lovely, yellow, silken sheet. This he
draped, regaily1 about my shoulders.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Tiffany!" I said. "Tiffany, of Feast Slaves, of the Enter prises of Aemilianus!"
"But we are playing, aren't we?" he asked. I shuddered.
"Now," said he, "who are you, really?"
"Sheila," I murmured. "Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"I thought so," he said.
I looked at him wildly, frightened.
"Sit in the chair," he said.
"I dare not!" I said. The thought of sitting in such a chair terrified me. It was the chair of a free person. I was a slave. I might be whipped, or slain, for sitting in such a chair. The greatest honor
I might expect in connection with such a chaii was to be permitted to crouch or lie at its foot, or,
perhaps, to be chained by the neck to its side.
"Is a command to be repeated?" he asked.
    "No, Master!" I said. I hurried to the chair and, small and frightened, sat down within it.
Sit up more straightly, more re~ally, and put your hands on the arms," he said. "Good."
Then he came over to the chair and, bending over, care-fully adjusted the sheet about me. He
then stepped back. "Good," he said. Then he sat, cross-legged, on the tiles, a few feet from me.
"Yes," he said. "Good. That is it." As he sat, he was below me. The angle would be similar to
that which he had bad from the floor of the great hall, or from the lower steps of the dais,
Jooking up at me on the throne.
"I never forget a face," he reassured me.
was silent.
'Who    are you?" he asked.
"I am Sheila," I said, "the Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"Yes," he said, "you are."
He then rose up and approached. me. He drew away the sheet and folded it, horizontally, again and again, until it formed, with several folds, a thick, long, narrow band, about six inches in
height and the sheet's length, about seven feet, in.width.
He then passed this band about my waist and about the back of the chair. He then tied me, snugly, back in the chair. He then resumed his place on the floor.
"Yes," he said, "clearly, at least a silver-tarsk girl." I recalled that he had conjectured in the great hall, much to the fury of many of my retainers, that that might be about my value in a slave
market.
He then rose up, again, and approached the chair. I tried to back, even further, against the back
of the chair. My hands and arms were free but the thick, yellow band, knotted tightly behind the
back of the chair, held me helplessly in place.
"You are not going to interfere, are you?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said.
Then he began to caress me.
"There was quite a search for you," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"It was lucky that I found you in Ar, wasn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"It is convenient that the addresses of many slaves are on their collars, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"It was thus easy to find you," he said. "Yes, Master," I said.
"What is wrong?" he asked. "Nothing, Master!" I said.
"You are squirming," he said.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Did you have a nice trip from' Ar?'~ he asked.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Were you in chains all the way?" he asked.
"Yes, Master!" I said.tried to hold my body still. I dug my fingernails into arms of the chair.
"It seems that you have been shorn," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. "It was done last to me a few mo ago by Borkon, my whip master, in Mill
7, of the Enterpi of Mintar."
"I see," he said.
"Oh," I sobbed. "Oh!" Then I could no longer control body.
"You are squirming again," he said.
"Yes, Master," I moaned. I writhed, helplessly, uncontolably, held in place by the tight band of
the sheet, my finger nails digging into the arms of the chair.
"You respond like a slave," he said.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Who are you?'.' he asked.
"Sheila," I said, "Tatrix of Corcyrus!"
"1 know," he said.
I tried to lift my body more to him, to make it easier him to touch.
"That is enough for now," he said. He removed his hands from my body.
I looked at him wildly, piteously, pleadingly. He must stop now! Surely he knew what he was doing to me.
"Now," he said, "Lady Sheila, you are going to be leashed and then you are going to perform on your leash, and supply, and, after that, you are going to beg to please me, as a slave."
"Yes, Master," I said.
He then went to a chest and from it fetched forth a  thick, plain, black-leather collar with a lock
closure. It was a sturdy ring attached to this collar, and, attached to ring, there was a long slave leash of black leather. It
some fifteen feet in length. In most leadings, of course, this afliount of length would not be used,
but would be coiled in the grasp of the master. The length is useful if the slave is expected to perform leash dances, is to be bound with the leash, or if, it doubled at the master's end, it is to
be used to train or discipline her.
I sat back in the chair, held helplessly there by the thick bond of the yellow sheet. I watched him
approach, with the collar and leash. He then stopped before the chair.
"I am now going to leash you," he said-"Yes, Master," I said.
"Lift up your chin," be said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I then felt the high, thick collar put about my neck, over the collar of
Aemilianus. I could feel it snug under my chin. It was then snapped shut.
"You are leashed," he said. 'Yes, Master," I said.
He then untied the sheet from the chair. I had not been freed of that bond until after I had been
leashed. This sort of thing is almost second nature with Goreans in the tyings and chainings of
slaves. This is reasonable, I suppose, at least in -many instances, that one security should be kept
in effect unti~it has been replaced by another. He folded the sheet twice and dropped it beside
the chair.
"What is a woman in a slave leash doing on such a chair?" be asked.
"Forgive me, Master," I said. I did not leave the chair, however. I did not know what he wanted
me to do
  'Slip from the chair now," he said, "and go to all fours, and then, in this fashion, crawl ten feet away, and then turn and, in this fashion, face me."
I hastened to obey. Then, in a moment or two, I faced him on all fours, the leash dangling from the collar, its end, as I
had crawled, and turned, in front of me, a few feet from the foot of the chair. He had now taken his place on the chair. How right he seemed there, how lordly and masterful.
 'You will note," he said, "that you wear a common slave leash and collar. There is nothing unusual or valuable about them. The collar, for example, is neither set with sapphires
nor is it trimmed with gold. The leash, similarly, is of plain,
sturdy material. Both devices are quite ordinary, but, ofcourse, quite efficient."
"Yes, Master," I 8aid.
"It amuses me to put you in such common articles," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You are now going to make as complete a circuit of the room as is practical," he said. "You will, where practical, kiss the walls at the corners, on each side of the corner, about five horts from
the corner and about ten horts from the floor. Where you come to chests or furniture, you will treat them as extensions of the wall, kissing them at the corners, and so on. You will then return
exactly to your present position."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You may now leave," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master." I then began my journey. The kissing of inanimate articles, such as a master's sandals, or the tiles on which he has walked, is used in teaching a
girl respect and reverence. There was something of this involved in his command, the having to kiss the walls of his room, the furniture there, and such, but the form ~f the command was
presumably motivated primarily by the consideration that compliance with it would guarantee a
full and adequate negotiation of the room's interior perimeter.
I was then, after a time, again where I had been befor~ on all fours, some ten feet from his chair, facing him. The leash, dangling from my collar, was now trailing behind me, between my legs.
"Lift your head," he said.
I did so.
"Come forward five feet," he said, "and keep your head up."
I complied.
"Put your head down," he said.
I complied.
"To your belly," he said.
I went to my belly.
1"Up again," he said, "to all fours.,'
I complied.
"Lift your head," he said.
I did so.
"It is pleasant to have the Tatrix of Corcyrus naked and on my leash," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You may now bring me the end of the leash," he said "-in your teeth."
'Yes, Master," I said. I went back to the end of the leash and, putting down my head, to the tiles,
picked it up in my teeth I then, on all fours, brought it; between my teeth, to Miles of Argentum.
He took it from me. I looked up at him, from all fours.
Does Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus, beg to perform on her leash for Miles, general of Argentum?" he inquired-.
Yes, Master," I said.
He stood up, then, and, with a snap, shook out the leash, and then, looping it drew it back a bit
towards him. He would play it out, or draw it in, as it pleased him, varying his perspective, and my distance from him, as I squirmed, and writhed and posed, from as little as an inch or two to
the full length of the leash, something in the neighborhood of a full fifteen feet.
"Perform," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, and performed.
I performed as excitingly and seductively as possible.
"More lewdly," he would sometimes say, "more salaciously, more lasciviously!"
"Yes, Master!" I would try, and try to please him even more.
He kept me on the leash for at least twenty Ehn and, in the latter portion of this time, commanded me. It seemed as if he made me move, and posed me, in almost every way in which
a strong  male might desire to see a human female, and I, of course, must conform perfectly to his wishes on my leash. He even took me about the room and to his couch. He made me do
such things as grind my belly against the wall of the room and throw myself, on my belly and.
back, over the great storage chest, wooden and iron-banded, at one side of the room. I remember
the feel of the wood and iron. Too, he permitted me, even ordered me, upon his couch, there to
continue my performances. I must first, of course, kneel at the lower left side of the couch and
kiss the covers before being permitted to creep upon it. Then he drew me from the c6uch to the
floor at its foot, near the slave ring. With one hand he flung covers to the floor there, on the tiles.
He then pointed to a place on the tiles, out from the covers but in front of them. "A free person
has walked here," he said. "Yes, Master," I said. I then, kneeling, put down my head and kissed
the indicated place three times.
I looked up at him.
"Orawi here," he said, indicating a place at his feet. I did so.
"You may now kiss my feet," he said.
I did so.
"You may now beg to be used as a slave," he said. "I beg to be used as a slave, Master," I said.
"Lie there," he said, indicating a place by the covers,  the slave ring, "on your back."
"Yes, Master, " I said.
He then knelt near me, and took the leash and tie( about the slave ring. He left some four or five feet of lei between the collar ring and the slave ring. That would al. him the slack he might need
to move me about if lie with kneeling me, say, with my head down, or throwing me to side or
belly.
He then knelt across my body and held my hands, by Wrists, helplessly down, above and to the
sides of my head.
"I greet you, Lady Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus," he said.
"Greetings, Master," I said.
"Struggle, squirm, attempt to escape," he said.
I struggled briefly, predictably futilely. "I cannot escape" I said.
"Are you in the power of a man?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Completely?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You are completely in the power of what man?" he ask
"I am completely in the power of Miles of Argentum" I said.
"Long have I dreamed of having you in my power, said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Are you the woman who begged to perform on a leash and then so performed?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You did well," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"As I recall," he said, "you also begged, kneeling, and a kissing my feet, to be used as a slave."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"It will be done with you as you requested," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
He then released my hands and, changing his position, knelt on my right. He then began to touch me, artfully and deftly. After a moment or two I realized I would not,
eventually, be able to resist him, eyen if he were to give me permission to try. His hands were sure. He knew what he
was doing. It was only a matter of time. I lay there, helplessly, and felt my slave reflexes beginning to be triggered. I bit at the covers. I saw that he intended that I would yield to him as a
sobbing, pleading, subducd slave. In this I saw that I was to be given no choice.
"You are very lovely, Lady Sheila," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"And you have the reflexes of a female slave," he said. "Yes, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master."
I did not think it would be long now. I suddenly jerked back my body from 'his touch.
He had made it so sensitive. He did not cuff
me, nor chide me, but, too, he did not give me quarter. He
continued, not hurrying, patiently, relentlessly, with the process of reducing me to a man-dominated, orgasmic, conquered female slave. He now held me, his left hand at the small
of my back, in place.
'I gritted my teeth. What men can do to us, I thought, angrily. Then I wanted only to feel, beggingly, piteously.
Then again, desperately, I strove to resist. The high, black, leather collar cut at the bottom of my chin.
I could feel the tiles beneath the covers. I had not been granted the dignity of the couch's surface
I would be had at its foot, by the slave ring.
I squirmed. I looked at the slave ring. The leash on my. neck ran to it, and was tied to it.
I was leashed!
I felt his hands.
I must resist! I must resist!
"Oh, please, Master," I wept, "let me yield to you as a conquered slave!"
"I beg to yield to you!" I wept.
"In time," he said. "In time."
The beast! The beast! I would show him! I would resist him! I would refuse to feel! I would not
let him do this to me!
"Please have pity on me, Master!" I cried. "I acknowledge that I have been conquered. I am
vanquished! I am now
yours, and as you want me, as a slave, fully! I beg now onli to be permitted to yield to you
abjectly and shamelessly. Le me tender to yQu now the helpless surrender of an orgasnul slave!"
Who was it who cried out so shamelessly, so helplessly an~ brazenly for a master's mercy? And I realized that she who cried out was I.
"Please, Master"' I whimpered, sobbing, surrendered wholly then one with myself, and. wholly at his mercy "Please, Master. Please!"
"Does Lady Sheila, the lofty and proud Tatrix of Corcyru' desire to yield to me as a slave?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I moaned. "I beg it!  I beg it!"
He then entered me suddenly and fiercely.
I clutched him.
"Please!" I whispered.
"Not yet,." he said.
After a few minutes I again begged for his permission to
yield. "Not yet," he said. I moaned. He, by varying hi rhythms and movements, brought me again
and again to to point of yielding, and then stopped short, letting me go back a greater or lesser
distance, and then bringing me forward, one speed or another, again. In this he not only
showed h power over me but took much pleasure from me.
"It is pleasant to enjoy the Tatrix of Corcyrus," he said.
"Yes, Master," I sobbed, bitterly.
Yet I could not deny that he was forcing me, too, to experience much pleasure, its nature and amount depended completely on his will.
A quarter of an Ahn must have passed.
Then again, for I do not know what time, he brought if to a point of almost unbearable tension.
"You may now yield, Lady Sheila," he said, "as you have begged, as a slave."
"Thank you, Master!" I cried, and threw my head back elation and gratitude, and freed myself of feeling, and, as He mastered me, cried out my slave's submission to him.
Afterwards he stood up and looked down, regarding m "It is pleasant to have had the Tatrix of Corcyrus," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I lay, had, at his feet.
He then crouched down, next to me, and rolled me ton
     stomach. He then jerked my hands behind my back and casi
ally braceleted me. "You will spend the night braceleted," He
Informed me. "Yes, Master," I said. He then shackled my left ankle and chained me, by means of it, to the slave ring at the foot of his couch. He then unlocked the leash collar and freed me of
it and the leash. These articles, with the key, he then replaced in one of the chests at the side of
the room. He then took most of the covers and threw them back on the couch. He did, leave me a
sheet on the tiles. I lay on half of it. The other h~lf, folded, he threw over me. He then retired.
Toward morning, in the early hours, he summoned me to his bed and again made use of me. I
knelt beside the bed, kissed the covers and crawled into it. He knelt me and turned me about, and
pushed my head down. He was quick with me. He was half as 1e9 ep. I suppose I should have
been grateful that I was permitted the honor of the couch. I do not think he, half asleep, wished
to' leave it. He did not bother unbraceleting me. Then, with his foot, when lie was finished, he
thrust me from the couch. At the foot of the couch, on the tiles, with my teeth; I readjusted the
sheet about me, as I could. I then lay there, wide-eyed, for a time, not sleeping.
How far I was from my small apartment, from the per-fume counter in the department store on
Long Island. That mercenary little chit was now, on this natural world, a braceleted slave at the
foot of a man's couch. No longer, now, was she, in the prerogatives of freedom, permitted to give
men nothing, or frustration now she must serve them with perfection and provide them, to the
best of her ability, at their merest whim, with fantastic pleasures. At least now, I thought, I am
good for something.
How casually Miles of Argentum had just used me! But I did not object, for I was a slave. This
form of casual, use, this off-handed employment of us, while perhaps inappropriate for a free
woman, was acceptable for a slave. We did not have to be the subject of elaborate and tiresome
preparations and pretenses, of complex rituals of attention and respect. We could, at times, be
mere conveniences to the master, and, in this, too, we find something honest, natural,
straightforward and lovely. There are times when the master simply wants us,
    and now. At such times, too, as we are slaves, it pleases us to 8erve.
To be sure, the use to which Miles of Argentum had just
    subjected me, and I was well awa?e of this, had not been merely casual, a simple
convenience use. It had, too, been a spurning use. Though he had not spoken to me, save to summon me imperiously to him, I had little doubt that he was still thinking of me in terms of Sheila,
the TatFix of Corcyrus. What a rich joke on the proud Tatrix! What a splendid lesson for the captured sovereign, to be subjected to a mere convenience use in the early mornipg, and then to be spurned to her place at a slave ring. But even  so I did not object. Something in the woman of me responded
to the masterful authority in this treatment. It made clear to me, once again, the delicious,
terrible domination to which 1 was subject on Gor. I wanted men to be my superiors and
masters, as they were on Gor. I wanted to be owned by them, as I was on Gor. I wanted to love
them, and obey them, as I had to, without choice, on Gor.
I th9ught of Miles of Argentum.
How skillful he was at teaching a woman her slavery. How well he had put me through my paces
on the leash, and then later in his arms. And, but moments ago, he had simply ordered me to him
and had then, wordlessly, before taking me, positioned me precisely as he wanted me, my head
even down.
I considered my compliance with his wishes and desires. I had obeyed him perfectly. I would not
have dared to do otherwise, of course. He was not a man of Earth, or a typical man of Earth. He
was a Gorean male.
I twisted a bit on the tiles, carefully, so as not to dislodge
the sheet. I moved my wrists a little, they locked helplessly
behind my back in their slave bracelets.
How men do with us as they please, I thought. How they master us!
I pulled for a moment, angrily, futilely, irrationally, against the slave bracelets, but I could not,
of course, free myself.
What a glorious world this is for men, I thought, that here women such as I must serve and
please them!
But then I squirmed with pleasure and joy.
And what a glorious world for women, I thought, that here Iwe must so serve and please!
I felt then the raptures of my bondage, from the tranquillities of selfless service to the ecstasy of
a slave's sexual surrender to the dominant male, the master. How perfect I was for bondage; how
perfect bondage was for me. I had been designed by nature for bondage. This was clear in my
body, and in my nature and dispositions. I rejoiced that I had been brought to a world in which I
was free to fulfill, and, in certain circumstances, would have no choice but to fulfill, this implicit destiny. Here, on Gor, there
were none of the confusions, the denials, the lies and ambiguities of Barth; here there was
clarity, structure and truth. Here civilization did not war with nature; here slaves were slaves,
and masters masters. Here I would be what I was, and without compromise, a slave. I did not
object. Rather was I thrilled with this, as Iliad now learned, my natural fulfillment.
I was frightened of Miles of Argentum.
He seemed to think of me not as the helpless and lowly slave I was, a mere girl rented .for his
pleasure for an evening, but as though I were a high lady and free captive, Sheila, the Tatrix of
Corcyrus, who was then, perhaps in his vengeance on her for her escape from his camp, to be
humiliated and humbled, and forced even, in her now unbreakable captivity to perform and serve
as a slave.
Certainly he had taken much pleasure with me.
But he must know that the true Sheila had fallen to Has-san, the Slave Hunter. Only recently he
had brought her to Argentum in a golden sack. Even now, for his amusement, he kept her for
several Ahn a day in that sack, suspended, tied shut in the throne room, while business was
conducted. The sack was to be opened, and she was to be presented to Claudius Ubar of
Aigentum, and the high council, and high citizen~
celebr    of Argentum, at the climax of a great feast, to be ated two days from now.
So what interest had Miles of Argentum in me?
Surely he did not think that I might be the real Sheila.
In his treatment of me, and in calling me Sheila, and so on, surely he had been only playing a
game with me.
He could not remember me that clearly, I hoped, from hi~ appearance before me in the great
hall, when I had sat upon the throne, for from the time when he had had me locked, naked, a
captive, in a golden cage.
No He was only playing with me.
I was merely Tiffany, a feast slave, brought to Argentum with others to serve at the victory feast.
It was not my fault if I bore some remote resemblance to Sheila the Tatrix of Corcyrus.
I reminded myself that Miles of Argentum did not own me
I reminded myself that he had only rented me for an eve-fling, for a night, as men may rent women such as I.
Alin, in the morning, I would be returned to my keepers. I would then forget about me. In a matter of days, probablysome three or four days, I would be on my way back with the others.
I had nothing to fear.
He did not own me. That was what was most important  He could not even harm me, at least
seriously, or permanently, without paying some form of restitution to the E terprises of
Aemilianus. I was, after all, their girl proper not his.
I then, toward morning, fell asleep.
I awakened rather late. It must have been around the eighth Abn. The room was flooded with light.
There had been a knock at the door. lt must have been girl keeper coming for me, I thought. I
struggled to my knees. is in such a position that a slave girl commonly greets a ft man. I did not
wish to be kicked or cuffed for discourte Braceleted as I was, I could not keep the sheet on me. It
fell across my thighs. But it was someone else, I saw. Miles Argentum, dressed and shaved,
answered the door.
"She will be with you shortly," he said. I did not understand that remark. He then closed the
door. I gathered the man might be waiting outside. I did not recognize him.
"I see that you are up, Lady Sheila," he said.
   "Yes, Master," I said.
"It is just as well," he said. "It is now past the eigth Ahn.
I did not understand, at that time, the reference to the eighth Ahn. Was that supposed to have some significance me?
I was then startled. I felt Miles of Argentum, from the back, pressing a tiny key into my collar.
"Master!" I cried.
He then, to my astonishment, opened the collar and I moved iL
"Master," I said, "what are you doing? How can you this? Where did you get the key?"
"In Ar," he said, "several days ago, the first day after saw you in the city. I paid for you then, but
the transfer  ownership, as specified in the contract, as I wished, did not become effective until this
morning, at the eighth Aim. A few Ehn ago, unknown to you, you became mine.
"Surely you jest, Master," I wept. "Feast Slaves would not
wish to sell me in this fashion. I am needed. There is no replacement here for me. There is no girl
to attend to my duties!"
"I did not realize one serving slave was so significant," he said, amused.
"They like to have a full complement of slaves on hand," I assured him. "If I were to be sold to you, they would have sent out an extra girl, an addition to my group."
"Aud so they have," he said, smiling, "though separately, as I requested. Her name is Emily.
Perhaps you know her?"
"I looked' at him, aghast.
"Do you know her?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said. "She was trained in the cycle after mine. Apparently they have now
transferred her to my group.
"Doubtless as your replacement," he grinned.
"Yes, Master," I whispered. I looked at him. "'Then I belong to you, truly?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, "every inch, every hair, every freckle, every drop of sweat, every drop of intimate oil."
I shuddered.
"Here is your new collar," he said, displaying it for me. "Isn't it lovely?"
"Yes, Master," I said. It was an attractive collar of gleaming steel, with a sturdy, heavy lock at the back. In it I would be marked as well, and confined as efficiently as I had been by the collar
of Aemilianus.
"See here?" he asked. " 'I am the property of Miles of Argentum,'" he read.
"Yes, Master," I said, miserably
"Lift your chin," he said.
I did so.
He then snapped the collar about my throat. I wore the collar, then, of Miles of Argentum.
"It is a perfect fit," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"It is the same size as the other collar," he said. "I had your collar size from the Enterprises of Aemilianus."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You do not seem pleased," he said. "I do not understand that. I thought you would be
overjoyed."
"I am overjoyed, Master," I whispered.
"Good," he said. "I like my girls to be happy."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"I paid fifteen silver tarsks for you," he said.
I was startled. "That is too high a price for me,' I said.
"I do not think so," be smiled.
"I am not worth anything like that," I said. For such a price one might get a fine dancer. Some of
the lesser girls in a Ubar's pleasure gardens might not have cost so much.
"You are to me," he said.
"I will endeavor to see that you get your money's worth," I said.
"Have no fear," he said. "I will."
I began to tremble, uncontrollably. He freed my left ankle of its shackle, that which had fastened
me to the slave ring.
"Stand," he said. I stood.
"You are not very tall, are you?" he said. "No, Master," I said.
"But you are well curved," he said.
"Perhaps, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master."
"This is the key to your slave bracelets," he said. He showed me a key, on a string. He slung the
string over my head and, by it, hung the key about my neck. It fell between my breasts. Much
good it did me. I could not reach it with my braceleted hands.
"I am going to turn you over now to Krotidos, niy slave master," he said. "You will find him a
kindly and fair man. On the other hand, your least imperfection in either discipline or service
will be severely and promptly punished."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"As I am an indulgent master," he said, "you will be accorded clothing from your first day in my ownership.'
"Master is generous," I said. I was not speaking ironically. Sometimes a girl, particularly a new
girl, must strive for days to earn even a narrow strip of cloth and a piece of string.
"It will be a tunic appropriate to the girls of Miles of Argentum," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. He was a soldier. He probably would have a distinctive tunic, in effect, a uniform, for his females. I had no doubt, too, he being a soldier, that it would display us well.
"Clothing privileges, of course, may be quickly revoked," hesaid.
"Of course, Master," I said.
"You look well," he said, "my former regal slut, now reduced to total slavery, naked and in slave
bracelets."
"No," I whimpered. "No, no." I shook my head, helplessly, trying to deny his accusation.
"To my lips," he commanded.
I fled to him, and kissed ilim, deeply, as a slave. I drew back. I saw that I had kissed him too well. "No, no," I whimpered.
He took me by the upper arms and, thrusting me from behind~forced me across the room. He
then put meover one of the large chests at the side of the room. I felt the wood of the chest, and
the iron bands. The key about my neck, on its string, made a small sound as it struck the wood.
"It is not my fault if I bear a resemblance to Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus," I said.
   "You kissed well," he said.
"Oh!" I cried, entered.
"Very well," he said.
"Thank you,. Master," I moaned. Sometimes a slave girl does not understand the incredible power she exerts over men, what she can do to them with a kiss, with a glance, with a smile, a
gesture, a touch. My wrists twisted helplessly in the slave bracelets.
"I cannot help it if I resemble her!" I said.
"You do more than resemble her," he said.
"Master?" I cried.
"You were she," he said.
"No, no!" I cried.
"We do not wish to keep Krondos waiting, do we?" he asked.
"No, Master," I moaned. "Of course not!"
"I have discussed your work schedules with him," he said. "You will be worked hard for some
five Ahn a day. Your tasks will be such things as laundering, scrubbing floors, and working in
the kitchens. These seem suitable tasks for the former Tatrix of Corcyrus. Do you not think so?"
"Yes, Master," I moaned. "Oh, Master!"
"You respond well," he said. "I always thought you were a slave."
"Yes, Master," I sobbed.
"During most of the day," he said, "you will have the run of the palace and the grounds."
"Yes, Master," I said.
The throne room in the palace at Argentum was now cool and dark. I entered, fearfully, a slave
girl frightened to be in such a place. It had a lofty ceiling. I walked barefoot on the tiles to the
vicinity of the dais and throne.
I turned, suddenly, fearfully, as the door closed behind me. I could not see, in the shadows, who
had shut it.
"Master?" I asked. I knelt, not knowing what else to do. This was the afternoon of the day of the
great feast, that for which, purportedly, feast slaves had been brought even from Ar. No longer
now, of course, was I a feast slave. I was now a work slave and pleasure slave owned by Miles of
Argenturn. Tonight, at the feast, I was to be presented naked and in chains to Claudius, the Uber
of Argentum, and the council. I looked up, toward the ceiling. Suspended there, some forty feet
from the floor, on a long rope, almost lost in the shadows, was a golden sack. The sack,
weighted, hung lieavily on the taut rope. Sometimes, with a creak of rope, it swung slightly. I
was reminded of an almost immobile pendulum.
I heard a sound in the shadows, near the door. I looked quickly in that direction.
I could see nothing in the darkness.
"Master?" I called.
A girl had told me that I was to report to the throne room. She was conveying this message on
behalf of a free man. She did not recognize him. Ile had seemed important, authoritative. As she
had hesitated to obey him, in relaying his message, so, too, I would not hesitate to obey him, in
corn-plying with it. Neither of us could guess his office or status. That he was within the palace,
however, a free man, clearly suggested to us his possession of some privilege or power. As we
were slaves, we obeyed. The man had been described to me by the girl, who had seemed shaken
by her encounter
with him, merely as one who was obviously a natural master of women such as we, slaves.
I could see him now, dimly, in the shadows, as my eyes adjusted to the light. He was standing
near the door. He was a large man. "Head down," he said, "palms on the floor."
I immediately assumed this position. The voice sounded familiar, but I could not place it. It
sounded, too, somewhat tense or feigned. I wondered if that were its natural sound, or if it were
being disguised.
I heard steps coming around behind me. Then, from be-hind, my head was pulled up, by the hair.
I now knelt, with my back straight. My tunic, then, the tunic of Miles of Argentu m, that brief,
trim tunic, of brown, trimmed with yellow with the plunging neckline, and slit at the sides to the rib
stripped away from me, from the back.
My hands tben, with two loops of a thong, were tied be-hind me.
"Master?" I begged. Then I could not speak. A heavy wad-ding was thrust into my mouth and
secured there with a folded strip of cloth, drawn deeply back between my teeth, knotted tightly
behind the back of my neck.
was then turned about and put on my back before my captor, on the tiles at the foot of the dais on which reposed the throne 6f Argentum.
I squirmed in terror. I uttered muted, tiny sounds.
"Yes," said he. "it is I, Ligurious, once first minister of Corcyrus."
I looked up at him, in terror.
"I, and two others," he said, "escaped the raid in Ar." I recalled I had heard swordplay, and the crashing of glass. "I see that you are now a branded, collared slave," he said. "It is appropriate.
That is not the major or primary reason you were brought to Gor, but it was the minor or
secondary reason You were destined, from the beginning, if not for the impaling spear, then,
eventually, for the collar."
I looked up at him, terrified, over the gag, naked and helplessly bound before him.
"You are a natural slave," he said. "Perhaps you know that
by now. The brand and collar are perfect on you. You are a
thousand times more beautiful as a slave than you were as a
free woman."
I squirmed, his bound prisoner.
"I wonder how you escaped from the camp of Miles of Ar gentum," he said. "You certainly upset
our plans in that particular. We had not even considered the possibility of such thing. But it seems that now the former Miss Collins of Earth may yet prove useful in our plans."
I uttered tiny, helpless sounds.
"I have not been captured," said Ligurious, "nor have I entered the palace surreptitiously. I am here of my own will. I return for immunity I havc volunteered to give evidence fo the state of
Argentum in thc identification of the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Who would know her better than I?
My two retainers, those two of all the others who have remaincd faithful, and with me, those
who escaped with me froni the hous in Ar, have been entered into the palace in the guise of en
voys from distant Tuna. As I will have my business here, Sc too, will they have theirs. There is
some dispute, you see, a to who is the true Tatrix of Corcyrus, she who  is eve
     now suspended in the golden sack near the ceiling in this ver
     room, or yourself, helpless now before me on the tile
     Witnesses will give testimony. Drusus Rencius, for exampl(
     has come here from Ar. He will doubtless identify you as tb
     true Tatrix, as he did before. We saw to it that he, lik
     several others, knew only you as the Tatrix. Similarly I ha~
     had clothing smuggled out of Corcyrus, clothing which yo
     wore. This will be presented to Claudius, the Ubar, and til
     high council, as the clothing of the Tat rix of Corey rus.
t   will be identified as the former wearer of the clothing,
     course, by sleen. The work of Claudius and the high counci
     of course, will be made somewhat easier by the fact th:
     when the golden sack is opened at the banquet it will be 0'
     cupied not by the true Sheila, but by you, her dupe and doi
     ble. We will not encounter objections by Hassan, the Sla'
     Hunter, as he will not appear at the banquet. My two m(
     will see to it that he is detained. Similarly, objections will ni
     be encountered by Miles of Argentum. He will receive
     formation, purportedly from Hassan, that he had the wroi
     girl and that you, as he now recognizes, are the true Tatri
     Accordingly he has placed you in the sack and, in his emb~
     rassment, and fearing a loss of honor, has left the palace, ta
     mg the other girl with him, she then to be consigned to sor
     suitable slavery or other. In this fashion we expect Miles
     Argentum to be satisfied. He, in any case, is convinced,
     you probably know, that it is you, and not the other woman
      who is the Tatrix. This, of course, is because we saw to it
    that he, like certain others, wQuld know only you as the Ta trix. He will identify you as
the true Tatrix, for be knows you as such, with the same conviction as Drusus Rencius, and
others. All this is in accord with our plans. And, of course, I too, shall identify you as the true
Tatrix. You may depend on
    it. Meanwhile, of course, the true Sheila will be concealed in my quarters, later to be
smuggled from the palace in the guise of a free woman, that of a companion of olle of my re
tainers, stipposedly an envoy from Tuna. The slave brought in with him in this role, put back in
proper slave garb, has a! ready been sold to an officer in the palace guard. He could not resist the
superb price on her."
There were tears in my eyes. I pulled futilely against the thongs on my wrists.
You are very pretty, as a slave," he said, regarding me, musingly, his hands on my ankles. He
moved my ankles, tight in his grip, slowly, widely apart. I could not prevent this. Then angrily, he closed them. 'No," be said. "It would be too long much like her." Then, with a loop of thong, he
crossed my ankles and tied them together. I could not rise to my feet now. He then looped a
thong from my ankles to a slave ring near the foot of the dais. I could not now even squirm from
my place. "Doubtless she will be naked in the
    sack," he muttered to himself, "as naked as a slave. The in-human beasts will have done
that to her.' I must try not to look at her more than is necessary."   .
He then, quickly, rose from my side and went to the side of the room. He loosed the rope tbere,
that rope going up to a ring in the ceiling, and then down to the sack.
I fought frenziedly to free myself. I could not do so.
Hand by hand, he lowered the golden sack to the tiles. He then opened it and drew forth from it
the vulnerable, quivering body of a naked woman. She looked wildly at him. She was bound head and foot. She
was gagged.
"They have put you in a collar!" he said. "How dare they have done this!"
She struggled to kneel to him. I do not even know if he, in his agitation, realized this.   The collar, of course, was the collar of Hassan. He had put it on her in Ar, and had
apparently never removed it.
"No!" cried Ligurious. "The beasts! The beastsl They have put your fair thigh under the iron!"
I recalled that Hassan, in Ar, had informed her that the' would make a stop first, before
proceeding to his iodging~ That stop, I now realized, must have been the shop of metal worker.
There the slave mark would have been burne~ into her thigh. It would already be on her, thus,
when shi was carried over his threshold, naked and on his shoulder, a a slave.
The hands of Ligurbious fumbled at the cords on he ankles, and then on her hands. He was
sweating. She knelt frightened, her back to him.
"What have they done to you!" he cried. "What have they done to you!"
She knelt with her back to him, her head down, frightened.
Could he not see what they had done to her?
She was not the same woman he had known. He had known a cold, supercilious, arrogant woman, one who had been petulant and harsh, one who had been cruel, severe an~ demanding,
an imperious and haughty slut. This, now, was not she.
There were many differences. For example, she knelt now rather than stood, and she was now
naked, rather than re gally robed and bedecked. Too, of course, on her neck, now there was a
locked, close-fitting, steel slave collar, and on he. thigh, of course, might be found a certain
,meaningfu~ mark one apprising all who might find it of interest of her status that it was bond.
Too, for those who might, find such thing interesting, it might have been noted that her master,
Rassan apparently had her on a careful diet and exercise program Her body was now vital and
healthy, and excitingly curved far beyond anything that one commonly expects in a fre~ woman.
But all of these things, in their way, were perhap rather trivial or external. The most important
difference about her how were internal differences, deep, profound dif ferences, differences
which manifested themselves beautifull' and unmistakably in such things as appearance,
carriage, atti tude and behavior. These differences were doubtless conse quences of having been
helplessly in the hands of Hassan, the Slave Hunter. These were the major differences in her. She
was now soft and vulnerable; she was now extremely femi nine; she was now informed and
mastered; she was now, ii the thousand ways in which this can be true of a woman, slave.
Ligurious tore the gag from her.
"Master," she sobbed.
"You know me," he said. "I am Ligurious!"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do not call me 'Master,'" he said, his voice throaty with emotion. I saw that he was only too
eager to hear this word from her. He was fighting himself. But even this innocent title, doing
little more than recognizing the place of his
maleness in the order of primate nature, and surely a suitable
expression on the lips of a female slave, such as she now was, alarmed him. Too long bad he
idolized this woman. He was not yet ready to see that she had become real; it seemed he
desperately wished to keep her as some remote, cherished iilusion. On the  other hand, there
was a painful ambiguity in his relationship to her, probably one that she had once fully exploited.
This had been evident in his attitudes to~vard me. He had, at various times, I had understood,
seriously considered subjecting me to his pleasure and, rather clearly, I think, in the modality of
the uncompromising master. In this, he had, I think clearly evidenced his desire to use her in the
same fashion. He had wished to use me as a proxy for his longed-for domination of her. Our
resemblances, however, had apparently been too close. Each time he had refrained from doing
so. I do not think he truly desired me, or at least not other than as a man might casually desire a
girl he sees in a paga tavern or, say, one of the girls he might notice chained in a row on their
mats on a side street, but he did desire her. Ligurious was truly a master; he had proved this with
other women; similarly, in most circumstances, had he so much as snapped his fingers at me, I
would have thrown my legs apart for him; this was not the modality though, for whatever reason,
in which he related to this other woman; he seemed to see her as some frosty ideal of perfection,
as something finer than and different from all other women, as something of which he might scarcely be worthy,
as something to which he should perhaps dare not aspire, as something almost untouchable and
abstract. In his mind he condemned her to perfection; in this fashion he kept her from being a
woman. Hassan, of course, did not see her in this fashion. In his arms she would not find herself
cheated of herself. This is not all that unusual, incidentally. A woman revered by one man as an
icy goddess is often another man's pleading, licking slave. Ligurious, to his fury, as a timid
swain, would never get a hundredth from her of what Hassan, her master, might command
 with a casual word. But this, ofcourse, was only to be expected. She was, after all, Hassan's slave.
"But you are a free man," she whispered. "What are you doing here? What are you doing? Where is Hassan, my master?"
"Do you wish to be impaled?" he asked.
"No!" she said.
"Your body!" he suddenly cried,' looking at her. "It is that of a slave!"
"Yes, Master," she wept, trying to crouch down and cover her
her breasts with her hands.
"And the collar on your throat, and the brand, superb!"
"Thank you, Master," she wept.    "No," he suddenly cried, much to himself; "It cannot be!" Then, not looking at her, he
angrily pointed to the tunic, on the tiles near me. "Put that on," he said. "Be quick! In the halls they will think you are she."
"Yes, Master," she said.
   I struggled again to free myself, and could not do so.
In a moment Ligurious had freed my ankles of the thong that fastened me to the slave ring and
dragged me by the arm across the tiles to the golden sa~k. There, putting me to my stomach, he
began to replace my bonds with those she had worn. This, presumably, is what Hassan would
have done had he himself been effecting this change of slaves.
"It is so small," she said, pulling down at the sides of the slave tunic.
I looked up at her, angrily. lt was the slave tunic Miles of Argentum put us all in. We all wore it,
all of his girls. To be sure, in it she was well displayed, and as what she now was, a slave.
My gag was then replaced with the one which she had worn. The wadding was packed into my
mouth. It was still wet from her saliva. It was then secured in place. I was then thrust feet first
into the golden slave sack. My headd was
thrust down. The sack was tied shut over my head. In a moment I felt myself, bit by bit,
helpless in the sack, being hoisted upward. The rope was then secured, and, miserable and
frightened, I swung slowly back and forth in the darkness of the sack until, eventually, there was
little more movement than that connected with the tension of the rope, and my own 1small,
occasional movements.
I ~ ~be ~ b~ng 1~Wered.
f ~o not think I had been in it for even an Aim. Surely it Was not yet time for the great feast.
Then the(sack was on the floor.
It was opened.
My eyes widened. I could not cry out, gagged. I was drawn from the sack by Drusus Rencius.
Behind him, naked, bound hand and foot, gagged, kneeling, was Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus.
Drusus Rencius removed my bonds and, lastly, my gag. "Be silent," he said.
   I nodded, and knelt before him, as the slave I was, before a master.
I then saw him, and not gently, replace the bonds on Sheila, she now on her'belly on the tiles,
with those I had worn, even to the gag, packed then tightly in her mouth, wet and sopping, and
secured there. He then thrust her in the sack, tied it shut and, in moments, had hoisted her higb to
the ceiling, its enclosed and helpless prisoner.
I reached out, timidly, to touch Drusus Rencius. "May I speak?" I whispered. I did not wish to be
cuffed.
"Yes," he said.
"I am not the Tatrix of Corcyrus," I said.
"I am sure you are not," he said. "I have been a dupe and a fool, as I am sure so, too, have been many of us."
"Where is Ligurious?" I asked, frightened.
"He is with his cronies from Corcyrus, those pretending to be envoys from Turia," he said.
"Fortunately they did not see me. I recognized them, of course. Indeed, I have been keeping a
close eye on Ligurious ever since I discovered he was in the palace. I saw him, for example,
enter the throne room, and saw you enter later. I then, later, saw him leaving the throne room
with the other woman, she whom, after he left his quarters, I took the liberty of replacing in the
sack where she belongs. He was in his banquet robes when he left his quarters. Accordingly I do
not think he will discover her new whereabouts until the sack is opened."
"It is intended," I said, "that the cohorts of Ligurious detain Hassan, and prevent him from
attending the banquet."
"Hassan, I am sure," said Drusus Reneius, "can take care of himself."
I looked at him, wildly.
"Stand," he said.
I did so.
"I believe this is yours," said Drusus Reneius, lifting skimpy tunic which, doubtless hut shortly
before, he had moved from Sheila, probably binding and gaggitig her.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Put it on," he said, throwing it against my body.
I caught it. "Yes, Master," I said. In a moment I was in It does not take long to don such a
garment. 1 a(ljLIste(1 it niy bo~dy. Then I straightened up. I saw 1 was belug iii~pect as a slave.
"Turn, slowly," he said.
I did so, displaying as well as I could one of the properperty of Miles of Argentum.
"Have you been named?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"What is it?" he asked.
"'Sheila,' Mastcr," I said.
He smiled. "That would seem appropriate," He said, least from the point of view of Miles of Argentum. That,  incidentally, is the name of the slave in the sack. It was on her in Ar by her
master, Hassan, the Slave Hunter."
I nodded. I had not known that. He could have named I anything, of course. Daphne, Jean, Wanda, Marjorie, Ta Nose, Excrement, whatever he pleased. It had appearantly amused him,
however, perhaps as an irony, to put her name back on her, this time, of course, as a mere cognon in bondage, a convenience by means of which to refer to as the animal she now was, a slave name.
"You are very pretty, Sheila," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said. That was my current sl~ name.
"The other Sheila, too, is very pretty," he said. "It will interesting, tonight, to compare you, when
you are ho naked and in chains, side by side, presented to Claudius a the high council."
"Doubtless, Master," I said. In suc~ a situation, ni might, I supposed, make their appraisals and
determinatic under almost ideal conditions. The conditions would be
ost as favorable as those of a slave market. We might ev bme.
measured and posed. When I was exhibited before him
this fashion it was my hope that Drusus Rencius would like what he saw.
The dancers had now scurried away with a jangle of The musicians were quiet. The floor,
between the tables cleared. The feast slaves had drawn back, behind the t At these tables were
Claudius, the Ubar of Argentuni members of the high council. There were-numerous othe.
nitaries there, as well, both from Argentum and from cities. Miles of Argentum was there, and
Drusus Renciu~ Ligurious. Interestingly enough, Aemilianus of Ar, wb( once been my master,
was there, and Publius, who had tbe house master in the house of Kliomenes, in CosHassan, the
Slave Hunter, I noted, however, was not prt Toward the back of the room, at one of the lesser t
there was a hooded guest, a medium-sized man. I dii know who it might be. It was much too
small to be Has was naked, in slave chains, behind a beaded curtain. I be produced when Miles
of Argentum, my master, wisi Because of my proximity to the narrow, linear spac( tween the
beading, I had little difficulty in seeing well in hall. The guests, on the other hand, given the
closeness beading and their greater distance from it, could dete presence there only with
difficulty, and, even then, pr ably, they would be able to tell little other than the fac the
individual there, as might be discerned from the v~' detectable form, was a stripped or scantily
clad female, I bly a slave.
"It is now time," said Claudius, the Ubar of Argentul come to the major business of the evening.
Let the sack be brought forth."
Two soldiers, from a side room, dragged the goldel
across the floor and put it before the center table, that table where sat Claudius, the members of' he high council and other significant guests. At this table, too, sat Ligurious, Miles of Argentum
and Drusus Rencitis.
"This feast," said Claudius, "is one of victory, one of triumph. Months ago the unprovoked
aggression of Corcyrus, seeking the silver of Argentum, was repelled. Further, to en-sure our
security, and to prevent a repetition of this form of aggression, we fought our way to, and
through, the gate of
Corcyrlis itself. There, abetted by Ihe people of that city, we efeated the forces of the
Tatrix of Corcyrus and overthrew her tyrannous regime."
There Was Gorean applause at this point; the striking of as    the left shoulder with the
palm of the hand. Even Ligurious, I noted, politely joined in the applause.  "The ties of Corcyrus with Cos have now been severed," said Claudius. "She, now, like Argentum, is a free ally of glorious Ar."
Here there was more applause.
"And fortunate is this for her," said Claudius, "for Ar, as she has demonstrated, stands by her allies"
Again there was applause.
"As her allies stand by her!" he added. There was more applause.
Ar, of course, had substantial land forces. She had, doubtless, the largest and best-trained infantry in known Gor is the land forces of Cos, on the other hand, were probably
not it   superior to those of a number of Gorean city states, even )e-    much smaller in their populations than the island Ubarate.  These balances tended to be reversed darmatically in
sea he   power. Cos had one of the most powerful fleets on Gor. The sea power of Ar, on the
'The villainess in this matter, the culprit, the instigator of all    these hostilities, was Sheila, the cruel and wicked Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"Yes, yes!" cried several men.
 "She was captured in Corcyrus but, en route to Argentunim
escaped. A great search was organized and conducted. A handsome reward was posted.
Still, for months she eluded us Then Hassan, the Slave Hunter, he of Kasra, consented to
take up her trail. Her days of freedom were then numbered. In Ar, not two weeks ago, she fell to his bracelets."
There was applause.
"He then saw fit to bring her to us in his own inimitable fashion, in a wagon, like a common girl,
tied naked in a slave sack."
There was laughter. "This time," laughed Claudius, "she did not escape!" There was more laughter. I saw
Ligurious smile.
"It is now time," said Claudius, "to have Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus, presented before
her conquerors, to await their pleasure!"
There was applause.
"Ligurious," said Claudius, turning to him.
Ligurious rose, and walked about the table, to stand before it, and near the sack.
"Many of you know me," said Lugurious, "if only by reputation, as the former first minister of Corcyrus: what many of you may not know is that I was also the secret leader of the resistance in
Corcyrus to the rule of Sheila, the Tatrix. For months within her very government I strove to
dissuade her from endeavors hostile to the great state of Argentum. I attempted to assert a
persistent influence in the directions of harmony and peace. Alas, my efforts were frustrated, my
counsels were ignored. The best that I could hope for was to prepare the way for the victorious
forces of Argentum, which I managed to do. You may recall the ease with which you took the
city, once the great gate was breached."
Drusus Rencius was smiling.
"In this time, of course, I was often in close converse with the Tatrix. In my efforts to convince
her of the futility and madness of her policies I was in almost constant proximity to her. I think it
may well be said that there is no man on Gor better qualified than I to recognize her, or to
identify her for you.
"Thank you, noble Ligurious," said Claudius. "Now," said  he, "let Sheila's captor, the noble Hassan, of Kasra, have the honor of presenting her before us, that she may await our pleasure." It was quiet. Men looked about. "Where is Has-san?" asked Claudius.
"He is not here," said a man.
Ligurious looked down, smiling.
Claudius shrugged. "He is perhaps indisposed:" he said. "Let the sack be opened!"
Ligurious looked about himself, pleased. He scarcely bothered to note the opening of the sack,
and the drawing forth of its helpless, gagged, bound, stripped occupant. She was knelt then,
bound hand and foot, naked and gagged, before Claudius and the council.
Ligurious l~oked about. "Yes," he said, "I know her well. There is no doubt about it." He pointed
at the kneeling figure, drarnatically, but scarcely looking at her, directing his attention more to
the audience. "Yes," he said, "that is she! That is the infamous Tatrix of Corcyrus!"
She uttered wild, tiny, desperate, muted sounds, shaking her head wildly. How well Goreans gag
their prisoners and slaves, I thought.
"Do not attempt to deny it, Sheila," said he, scarcely noting her. "You have been perfectly and
definitively identified."
She continued to make tiny, desperate, pleading noises. She continued to shake her head, wildly.
Tears flowed from her eyes.
Ligurious then, perhaps curious, regarded her closely. Even then, for a time, I do not think he
recognized her. I think this was because of our very close resemblance, and, too, perhaps,
because he found it almost impossible to believe that I was not the wonlan who had been drawn
forth from the sack, who now knelt helplessly before Claudius aud the council. Then, suddenly,
he turned white. "~a it!" he cried. He crouched down, then, and took the woman's head in his
hands. Her eyes looked at him wildly, filled with tears. "No!" he cried, suddenly. "No! This is not
she!"
"I thought," said Claudius, "that you identified her as Sheila, perfectly and definitively."
"No, no!" said Ligurious. He was shaking. There was sweat On his forehead. "I made a mistake!
his is not she!"
"Then where is she?" asked Claudius, angrily.
"I do not know!" said Ligurious, looking wildly about. "Hassan, of Kasra!" called the feast
master, from near the door, announcing the arrival of Hassan in the hall.
"I am sorry I am late," said Hassan. "I was temporarily retained. I was attacked by two men. They are now outside my quarters, where I put them, tied back to back. Their arms and legs are broken."
"See that the assailants of Has~an are taken into custody and attended to," said Claudius.
"Yes, Ubar," said two soldiers, and swiftly :eft the room.
I saw Sheila, at the appearance of Hassan in the hall, immediately put her head down to the tiles. Hassan trained his women perfectly.
"Is this the woman you captured in Ar?" asked Claudius pointing to Sheila.
Hassan walked over to her, pulled her hca(1 up by the liur and then, holding her by the arms, put her to her belly, and then turned her from one side to the other, examining lici body for tiny
marks.
"Yes," he said, "this is she."
The Gorean master commonly knows the bodies of his women. They are, after all, not
independent contractual partners, who may simply walk away, but treasured pos sessions. They
receive, accordingly, careful attention. Many Women, indeed, are never truly looked at by a man
until after they are owned.
He then put Sheila again on her knees before the council.
"Do you believe her to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus?" asked Claudius.
"I believe that she was the Tatrix of Corcyrus," said Has-San, "yes."
"He has never seen her 1" shouted Ligurious.
"She was identified by sleen," said Hassan.
"But from false clothing!" cried Ligurious. "She is not the true Tatrix of Corcyrus! But the true
Tatrix of Corcyrus is here, somewhere! I am sure of it!"
"How dQ you know?" asked Claudius.
Ligurious looked down, confused. He could not very well inform the assemblage of the
exchange he had attempted to effect earlier in the throne 'room. "I have seen her here in the
palace, somewhere about," he said quickly. "It was she whom I thought was to be withdrawn
from the 'sack."
"My Ubar," said Miles of Argentum, rising to his feet, "reluctant as I am to agree with the former
first minister of CorCyrus, and doubtless one of the finest liars on Gor, I think it not impossible
that he may have seen Sheila about in the palace, perhaps on her hands and knees scrubbing tiles
in a corridor, the type of task to which it has amused me to set her."
Men looked about, wildly, at one another.
"With your permission, my Ubar," said Miles of Argenturn. Then, suddenly, sharply, he struck
his hands together twice. "Sheila!" he snapped. "Fortit!"
Startled, frightened, I parted the headed curtain with my chained hands and, with the small,
measured, graceful steps of a Woman whose ankles are chained, hurried to him. I knelt on the
tiles before the table, before his place, my head down
"Lift your head," lie said.
I heard cries of astonishment.
"Go, kneel beside the other woman," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"There," cried Ligurious in triumph, "that is the true Sheila, the true Tatrix of Corcyrus!"
"Do you not think you should examine her somewhat more closely?" asked Drusus
Ligurious threw him a look of hatred and then came closer to me. He made a pretense of
subjecting me to careful scru tiny. Then he said, "Yes, that is the true Sheila."
"Let them be identically chained," said Claudius.
Miles of Argentum gestured 'to an officer. He had apparently anticipated this request.
In moments Sheila, freed of the gag and cords, wore chains. We now knelt naked and identically
chained, side' by side, before Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum. Each of us had
our wrists separated by some eighteen inches of chain. Each $ of us, too, had our ankles
separated by a similar length of chain, only a little longer. Another chain, on each of us, ran from
the center of our wrist chain to the center of our ankle
chain. This central, or middle, chain was about three, and a     A half feet in length.
"It is a remarkable resemblance," said Claudius', wonderingly.
"They could be twins," said a man.
"You can tell them apart," said a man. "One has shorter hair."
"That is not important," said another.
"There are other differences, too," said a man, "subtle differences, but real differences."
"Yes," said the man, "I see them now." That was he who had suggested that we might be twins.
Had we been twins we, at least, would not have been identical twins. Fraternal twins, separate egg twins, 'two boys, two girls, or a boy and a girl, are not likely to resemble one another any more closely than normal siblings, except, of course, in age.
"If you did not see them together, however," said a man, "it would be extremely difficult to tell them apart."
"Yes," said another.
"I submit, my Ubar," said Miles of Argentum, "that the woman on your left, she with the shorter hair, is she before whom I appeared in Corcyrus, when I brought, at your request, the scrolls of
protest to that city."
"Are you certain?" asked Claudius.
"Yes," said Ligurious. "That is true. She is Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus."
4'That is not the one whom the sleen selected," said Hassan.
"I have witnesses who will identify her," said Miles. "I my-self am the first such witness. She is
Sheila, the Tatrix of CorCyrus.
"How do you know?" asked 'Drusus Rencius, rising to his feet.
I was startled. How dared he speak?
"The captain from Ar is out of order," said Claudius.
A    "Please let him speak, noble Claudius," said Miles.
"Is it your intention to speak on behalf of the shorter-haired slave?" asked Claudius.
"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
There were cries of astonishment in the banquet hall. Even the feast slaves, in the back, girls
such as Claudia, Crystal,
Tupa and Emily, looked wildly at one another. I moved in
my chains. I was thrilled,.
"You may do so," said Claudius."My thanks, Ubar," said Drusus Rencius.
"Is it your intention to jeopardize our friendship, old comrade in arms?" inquired Miles of
Argentum.
"That is no friendship, beloved Miles," said Drusus Rencius, "which can be jeopardized by truth."
"That is the woman whom I saw in Corcynis when I carried there the scrolls of Argentum," said
Miles, pointing to me. "That is sbe who was on the throne. That is she whom I captured after the
fall of the city. That is she whom I had locked in the golden cage!"'
"I do not dispute that," said Drusus Rencius.
"You grant, then, my case," said Miles.
"No," said Drusus Rencius. "I do not dispute that you saw her in Corcyrus, that you later
captured her, that you had her placed in a golden cage, and sUch things. What I dispute is that
she was the Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"The captain from Ar," said Miles, "has apparently taken leave of his senses. He is being foolish.
Would he have us be lieve that the true Tatrix was off somewhere, polishing her nails perhaps,
while someone else was conducting the business of state in her place?"
There was laughter. Detisus Rencius clenched his fists. He was a Gorean warrior. He did not
take lightly to being mocked and chided in this fashion.
"My second witness," said Miles of Argentum, "is the woman who served her intimately in her
own quarters, who bathed her and clothed her, and combed her hair, who was to her as her own
personal serving slave, now one of my own slaves, Susan."
Susan was summoned forward. How exquisite and beautiful, and well displayed she was, in the
trim, tiny tunic that was the uniform of the girls of Miles of Argentum. We now wore the same
collar. He owned us both.
She knelt before him, his.
"Is that the woman whom you served In Corcyrus?" Miles asked her, pointing to me.
Susan caine over to nie. "Forgive me, Mistress," she said.
"Do not call me Mistress, Susan," I said. "I am now as much a slave as you."
"Yes, Mistress," she said.
"Is that the woman whom you served?" asked Miles.
"It is, Master," she said.
The members of the high council and many of the guests looked about at one another, nodding.
"As this girl is the property of Miles of Argentum," said Claudius to Drusus Rencius, "you may move that her testimony be discounted or be retaken, under torture."
In Gorean courts the testimony of slaves is commonly taken under torture.
Drusus Rencius looked across the room to Miles of Argenturn.
"I will withdraw her testimony," said Miles of Argentum. "If she is to be tortured, it will be at my will and not that of a court. In this, however, I make no implicit concession. I
maintain .that the truth which she would cry out under torture would be no different from that
which you have already heard freely spoken."
"Well done, Drusus Rencius," said a man, admiringly.
I saw that Miles of Argentum did not wish to have Susan subjected to judicial torture, perhaps
tormented and torn on the rack, even though it might validate her testimony and strengthen his
case. But she was onl~ a slave! Could it be be cared for her? I suspected it was true. I suspected
that the little beauty from Cincinnati, Ohio, in his collar, had beconie special to him, that she
was now to him perhaps even a love slave.
"I do not ask that her testimony be discounted or with-Idrawn," said Drusus Rencius, "only that it
be clearly underIstood."
There were cries of astonishment from those about the tables.
"Susan," said Drusus Rencius.
"Yes, Master," she said.   "Do you think this woman is wicked?" he asked.
"I think she can be nasty and cruel," she said, "but, in a collar, she will doubtless be kept well in her place."
"From what you know of her," he asked, "do you think she could be guilty of the enormities and
crimes commonly charged against the Tatrix of Corcyrus?"
"No, Master," she said, happily.
"Mistresses sometimes have different relationships to their serving slaves, or friends, than they
do to others," said Liguriout. "It is well known that great crimes can be committed by individuals
who are, to others, kindly and affectionate."
"And," said Drusus Rencius, "that a man who is a wrathful master to one woman may be little
better than the obsequious pet of another."
"Perhaps," said Liguriou~, angrily.
"You know that this is the woman whom you served, Susan," said Drusus Rencius, indicating
me, "for you are familiar with her, and have no difficulty in recognizing her. What I am
suggesting is that you do not really know that she was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus. You suppose
she was because that is what you were told, and for certain other reasons, such as others took her
also for such, and you saw her performing actions which, you supposed, only the Tatrix
would perform, such things as holding audiences with foreign dignitaries, and Such."
"Yes, Master," said Susan.
"But is it not possible," he asked, "that she might have been reported to be the Tat, has, and might
have done such things, without being the true Tatrix?"
"Yes, Master," Susan granted, eagerly.
"Do you regard it as likely, Susan," asked Miles of Argen turn, "that that woman was the Tatrix
of Corcyrus?"
"Ycs, Master," she said.
"Do you regard it as extremely likely?" he asked. "Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Do you doubt it, really, at all?" he asked. "No, Master," she sobbed. She put down her head,
"Remain here, Susan," said Miles.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"I call my next witness," said Miles of Argentum, "located In Venna by my men, and brought
here, Speusippus of Tuna."
To my amazement Speusippus was conducted forward. He seemed cringing and obsequious in
the presence of such a noble assemblage. No longer, now, did he seem as detestable to me as he
once had. Too, I was now a slave and a thousand times lower than he. Too, it was he who had
taken my virginity. Too, I now realized that my femaleness had shown his maleness too little
respect. I was a woman. Yet, in spite of that, I had not properly related to him. I had not shown
him the deference which, in the order of nature, it was proper for my sex to accord to his. He
was a member of the master sex; I was a member of the slave sex.
"You were, several months ago, were you not, found guilty of certain alleged commercial
irregularities in the city of Corcyrus, and banished for a time from the city?"
"Yes," said Speusippus.
"As the reports have it," said Miles, "you were marched naked from the city, before the spears of
guards, a sign about your neck, proclaiming you a fraud."
"Yes," said Speusippus, angrily.
"Who found you guilty, and pronounced this sentence?"
"Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus," said Speusippus.
"Is she who was the Tatrix of Corcyrus in this room?" asked Miles of Argentum.
"Yes," said Speusippus.
"Would you point her out for us?" asked Miles.
Speusippus, unerringly, came to my side. He pointed to me. "This    is she," he said.
"Thank you," said Miles. "You may now go."
"I had her in my grasp," cried Speusippus, "but she escaped. The reward should have been
mine!" This reward had originally been one thousand pieces 9f gold. It ha'd later been increased
to fifteen hundred pieces of gold.
"It is not my fault if you could not hold a slave," said Miles.
"She was not then a slave," said Speusippus. Then he
turned to me, with hatred. "But I got something from you,
you slut," he said. "I took your virginity away!"
"Am I to understand," asked Miles of Argentum, "that you
are confessing to the rape of a free woman, one who was
even a Tatrix?"
    Speusippus turned white.
"May I speak, Masters?" I asked.
"Yes," said Claudius.
'5After he had captured me," I said, "I presented myself to Speusippus of Tuna naked and as a
slave, and begged for his use. As a true man he could not do 9therwise than to have me."
Speusippus looked wildly at me.
"Very well, Speusippus of Tuna," said Miles of Argentum, "you may go."
"Forgive me, Master," I said to Speusippus of Tuna. "I muchly wronged you. I was stupid and
cruel. I showed you too little respect. I now beg your forgiveness, as a woman, now a slave."
"You seem much different now from before," he said.
"I have now learned that I am a female," I said. Then I put my head down and did obeisance to
his maleness, kissing his feet.
He crouched down and lifted my head. He looked into my eyes. "Fortunate is the man who has
you under his whip," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I whispered. He then kissed me, rose to his feet and hurried away.
"Slave!" snarled Drusus Rencius, looking angrily at me.
"Yes, Master," I said. "I am a slave."
"Let it be noted," said Miles of Argentum, "that the
witness unhesitantly identified her as Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"It is noted," said Claudius.
"He, too," said Drusus Rencius, "could have been mistaken In this matter!"
There was some laughter from some of the members of the high council, and from some of the
others about the tables.
"I call now my fourth witness," said Miles of Argentum, "Ligurious, former first minister of
Corcynis. He, if no one else, should know the true Tatrix of Corcyrus. I now ask him to make an
official identification in the course of our inquiry. Ligurious."
Ligurious unhesitantly pointed to me. "I know her well," he said. "That is Sheila, who was the true Tatrix of CorCyrus.
"Have you further witnesses, General?" asked Claudius of Miles.
"Yes, noble Claudius," smiled Miles, "one more."
"Call him," said Claudius.
"Drusus Rencius," said Miles.
"I?" cried Drusus Rencius.
Men looked at one another, startled.
"Yes," said Miles. "You are Drusus Rencius, a captain from Ar, are you not?"
"Yes," said Drustis Rencius, angrily.
"The same who was on detached service to Argentum, and was engaged in espionage within the
walls of Corcyrus?" asked Miles.
"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
"I believe that while you were in Corcyrus," said Miles, "one of your duties was to act as the
personal bodyguard of Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"I was assigned the post of guarding one whom I at that time thought was Sheila, the Tatrix of
Corcyrus," said Drusus Rencius. "I no longer believe that she was the true Tatrix. I think that I,
and many others, including yourself, were eon fused and misled by the brilliance of Ligurious,
Corcyrus's first minister. She was used as a decoy to protect the true Tatrix. In effechng this
stratagem she was educated in the identity and role of the Tatrix, in which role, part-time at
least, she performed. The success of this plan became strikingly clear after the fall of the city.
She fell into our hands and, as the supposed Tatrix, was stripped, chained and caged. The
true Tatrix, meanwhile, eluded us, escaping in the company of Ligurious and others."
"Ligurious?" asked Miles.
"Preposterous," said Ligurious.
"Is the woman whom you believed to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus, and whom you testified in
Corcyrus was the Tatrix, b fore the very throne itself, in this room?"
Drusus Rencius was silent.
"As you may have noted," said Miles, "Pi'bli~is, the liou master of the l~ouse of Klioiiieiies, of
Corcyrtis, is iii II room. I think that he, with the practiced eye of his profc sion, skilled in the
close scrutiny and assessmeiit of femalt can render a judicious opinion as to whether or not si
whom you brought to the house of Kliomenes, she whom y( were guarding, is or is not in the
room."
"How did you know of this?" asked Drusus Rencius.
"In the search for the Tatrix," said Miles, "the records hundreds of slave houses were checked, to
see if a woman her description might have been processed. In this search, the records of the
house of KIomenes, we found entries taming to your visit there with a free woman,
purportedly Lady Lita. Descriptions of this 'Lady,Lita' were furnished 1 several members of the
staff. There was no difficulty wi these descriptions. They were splendidly clear, and useful and
intimately detailed, even to conjectured sh~'~ckle sii.es, ji as one would expect of descriptions
of a female in a sla garment. The descriptions tallied, of course, with those av~~ able of the
Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"I did not know," said Publius, rising to his feet, "that was for such a purpose I was invited to
Argentum. As Mi of Argentum knows, I am the friend of Drusus Renci us   will not testify in this matter."
   "You can deny, of course," said Miles of Argentum Drusus Renci us, "that she whom you took to the house Kliomenes was the same woman you were guarding as I putative Tatrix. In
that fashion, even if Publius can be couraged to testify, his testimony could do no more than cc
firm that she here chained is the same as she whom you th brought to the house of Kliomenes.
You can still deny ti she who is here chained is she whom you then took to I Tatrix of Corcyrus.
Drusus Rencius was silent.
"We have, of course, independent identifications."
"We do not require the testimony of Drusus Rencius in this matter," said Claudius.
"I do not refuse to testify," said Drusus Rencius.
Men looked at one another.
"Let me then repeat my question," said Miles of Argen turn. "Is she whom you believed to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus, she whom you identified as the Tatrix in Corcyrus itself, before the very
throne of Corcyrus, in this room?"
"Yes," said Drustis Rencius.
"Would you please point her out?" asked Miles.
Drusus Rencius pointed to me. "That is she," he said.
"Thank you," said Miles.
'The matter is done," said a man.
"In making this identification," said Drusus Rencius, "I do no more than acknowledge that I was once the dupe of Ligurious. Can you not see? He is making fools of us all!"
Ligurious looked down, as though grieved by some irresponsible and absurd outburst.
"By the love I bear you, and by the love you bear me," said Drusus Rencius to Miles, "hear me out. That woman is not the Tatrix! She sat upon the throne! She appeared in public as the Tatrix! She sat in court as the Tatrix! She conducted business as the Tatrix! She was known as the Tatrix! But she was not the Tatrix!"
"Lets not ignore the evidence," said Miles of Argentum. "The evidence, some of which you
yourself have presented, clearly indicates that she is the Tatrix What sort of evidence would you
wish? How do we know, for example, that you are really Drusus Rencius, a captain from Ar? Or that I am Miles, a general from Argentum? Or that he is Ligurious, who was the first minister in
Corcyrus? How do we know anyone in this room is who we think? Perhaps we are all vietims of
some elaborate and preposterous hoax! But the question here is not one of knowledge in some
almost incomprehensible or absolute sense but of rational certainty. And it is clear beyond a
doubt, clear to the point of rational certainty, that that was the Tatrix of Corcyrusl"
There was applause in the room.
"I recall an earlier witness," said Miles of Argentum, "my slave, Susan."
"Master?" she asked, frightened.
"In your opinion, Susan," he asked, "did the shorter-haired
slave, she kneeling there in chains, she whom you served, regard herself as Sheila, the Tatrix of
Corcyrus."
"Yes, Master," whispered Susan, her head down.
I, too, put my head down before the free men, the masters. It was true. I had regarded myself as Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Indeed, even now, there was a painful ambiguity in my mind in
this matter. I supposed that, in a sense, I was a Sheila, who had been a Tatrix in CorcYrus. I was,
I supposed, one of the two Sheilas, who, in their different ways, had been Tatrix there. I knew, of
course, that I was not the true Sheila, or, at least, the important Sheila, the Sheila in whom they
were particularly interested. I, too, in my way, had been a mere dupe of Ligurious.
"She herself," said Miles of Argentum, "regarded herself as the Tatrix of Corcyrus. She accepted
herself as that! She did not deny it or dispute it! Why not? Because that is who she was!"
"No!" cried Drusus Rencius.
"Why do you think she was not the Tatrix of Corcyrus?" asked Miles.
"I do not know," cried Drusus Rencius.  "I just know!"
"Come now, Captain," said Miles, patronizingly.
"I know her," said Drusus Rencius, angrily. "I have known her from Corcyrus. She is petty, and
belongs in a collar, and Iunder the whip, but she is not the sort of woman who could have
committed the enormities and outrages of the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Such things are not in her!"'
"Has the good captain from Ar," inquired Miles, "permit-ted the glances, the smiles, the
curvaceous interests of a woman to sway his judgment?"
"No," said Drusus Rencius.    -
"I think you have succumbed to the charms of a slave," said Miles.
"No!" said Drusus Rencius.
"She has made you weak," said Miles.
"No!" said Drusus Rencius.
I looked at Drusus Rencius. I was only a naked slave, and In chains, How could I make such a
man weak?
"The evidence is clear," said Miles of Argentum to the Ubar, Claudius, to the members of the
high council, to the others in the room. "I rest my case." He then pointed to me. "Behold she who was the Tatrix of Corcyrus!"
There was much applause in the room. Drusus Rencius turned angrily away. He stood to one
side, his fists clenched.
'That is not the one whom the sleen selected," said Has-San.
Drusus Rencius spun about. "True!" he said.
"May I speak?" inquired Ligurious.
''Speak," said Claudius
"I anticipated some difficulty in the matter of the sleen," he said. "First of all, we must understand that the sleen are merely following a scent. They recognize a scent, of course, but
 not know, in a formal or legal sense, whose scent they are following. For example, a sleen
can certainly recognize the scent of its master but it, being an animal, does not know, of course,
whether its master is, say, a peasant or a Ubar. Indeed, many sleen, whereas they will respond to
their own names, do not even know the names of their masters. I am sure the type of point I am
making is well understood. Accordingly, let us suppose we now wish a sleen to locate some-one,
say, a Tatrix. We do not tell the sleen to look for a Tatrix. We give the sleen something which,
supposedly, bears the scent of the Tatrix, and then the sleen follows that scent, no differently
than it might the scent of a wild tarsk or a yellow-pelted tabuk. The crucial matter then is
whether the sleen is set upon the proper scent or not. Now fifteen hundred gold pieces is a great
deal of money. Can we not imagine the possibility, where so niucli money is at stake, that a
woman closely resembling the Tatrix, as this woman, for example, might be selected as a quarry
in a fraudulent hunt. It would not be difficult then, in one fashion or another, to set sleen upon
her trail. A scrap of cloth~ing would do, a bit of bedding, even the scent of a footprint. The
innocent woman is then captured and, later, presented in a place such as this, the reward then
being claimed."
Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum, turned to Hassan. "Your integrity as a hunter has been
impugned," he said.
All eyes were upon flassan.
"I am not touchy on such matters," said Hassan. "I am not a warrior. I am a businessman. I
recognize the right of Claudius and the high council to assurances ip these matters. Indeed, it is
their duty, in so far as they can, to protect Argenturn against deception and fraud. Much of what
Ligurious, the former first minister of Corcyrus, has told you is true, for example, about sleen,
and their limitations and utilities. These
are, even, .well-known facts. The crucial matter, then, would seem to be the' authenticity of the
articles used to provide the original scent. When I was in Corcyrus and I received fromMenicius, her Administrator, clothing which had been worn by the Tatrix, I divided it into two bundles and had each sealed with the seal of Corcyrus. A letter to this effect, signed by Menicius, and bearing, too, the seal of Corcyrus, I also obtained. One of these bundles I broke' open in Ar, and used it to
locate and capture the former Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"She whom you claim is the former~ Tatrix," said l~igurious.
"Yes," said Hassan.
"Do you still have the second bundle, unopened, and the letter from Menicius, Administrator of
Corcyrus, in your possession?" asked Claudius of Hassan.
"I anticipated these matters might be sensitive," said Hassan. "Yes."
Hassan was truly a professional hunter. I had heard the
name 'Menicius' somewhere before, but I could not place it.
~He, whoever he might be, was now apparently Administrator
inCorcyrus.
Claudius regarded Hassan.
"I will fetch them," said Hassan, rising to his feet.
"I, too, have clothing from Corcyrus," said Ligurious, "but it is authentic clothing, clothing
actually once worn by the ~true Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"Please be so kind as to produce it in evidence," said Claudius.
"I will be back shortly," said Ligurious.
"Bring guard sleen and meat," said Claudius to one of the guards in the room.
In a few Ehn Hassan and Ligurius bad returned. Too, but moments later, two sleen, with
keepers', had entered the' hall. The feast slaves and dancers shrank back against the walls. Such
beasts are used to hunt slaves.
I, too, shrank back, fearfully, in my chains. I, too, was a slave.
"As you will note," said Hassan to Claudius and the high council, "the seal on this bundle has not
been broken. Here, too, is the letter from Menicius."
The letter was examined. Claudius himself then broke the seal on the bundle and handed
clothing to one of the sleen keepers. One soldier came and crouched down behind me,
holding me from the back by the upper arms. Another so served Sheila, to my left. We were not
to be permitted to move from our places. I saw one of the keepers holding the clothing beneath
the snout of one of the sinuous, sixlegged beasts. The specific signals between masters and
sleen, signals which, in1effect, convey such commands as "Attack," "Hunt," "Stop," 'Back," and
so on, are usually verbal and private. Verbality is important as many times the sleen, intent upon
a scent, for exaniple, will not be looking at the master. The privacy of ~he signals is important to
guarantee that not just ar~yone can start a sleen on a hunt or call one away from it. The signals
to which they respond, then, are idiosyncratic to the given beast. They are generally not unique;
however, to a given man and beast. For example, in an area where there are several sleen and
several keepers, the keepers are likely to know the signals specific to the given beasts. In his
fashion any beast may be controlled by any of the associated trainers or keepers. These signals,
too, are usually kept written down somewhere. In this fashion, if a keeper should be slain, or
change the locus. of his employment, or something along those lines, the beast need not be
killed.
Suddenly the beast, on its chain leash, leapt towards us Sheila and I screamed, pulling back. I
actually felt the body of the beast, its oily fur, the muscles and ribs beneath it, brush nie, lunging
past me. Sheila tried to scratuble back, wild in her chains, but, held, could not do so. She threw
her head back, her eyes closed, sobbing and screaming, begging the masters for mercy. The
frenzied sleen tried to reach Shei4a Its claws scratched and slipped on th~ tiles. It snapped and
bit at her, its eyes blazing. its fangs, long, wild, white, moist, curved, gleaming, were but inches
from her enslaved beauty.
A word was spoken. The sleen drew back. It was thrown meat. Sheila, her eyes glazed, hair
before her face, looked numbly at the animal. She was still held by the soldier. Had she not been
I think she might have slumped to the tiles How helpless we are, naked and in our chains, before
mas ters. How they can do with us whatever they wish!
"The clothing with which the sleen was put on the scent of the woman on our right could have
been imbued with her scent at any time, of course," said Ligurious. "For example, it could have
been put in the sack with her for a night, when she was being brought to Argentum. I have here,
however and I now break the seal, clothing which is actually that of the former Tatrix of Corcyrus. See? Already she cringes and shrinks back. She knows that by this
clothing she will be exactly and incontrovertibly identified as the former true Tatrix of Corcyrus."
I watched in horror as Ligurious tossed the clothing, piece by piece, to one of the sleen keepers.
One of the pieces was the brief, sashed, yellow-silk robe I had been fond of. lt was the first garment I had ever worn on Gor.
'That one garment," said Miles of Argentum, indicating a scarlet robe, with a yellow, braided belt, "appears to be that in which she put her curves on the day of my audience with her, that
having to do with the scrolls of protest."
"It is," Ligurious assured him.
I also saw there garments which looked like those I had worn to the song drama with Drusus
Rencius, and had worn later with him on the walls of Corcyrus.
"Surely you recognize that garment?" asked Ligurious, indicating a purple robe with golden trim, and a golden belt. "Yes," said Miles of Argentum. "That' is the garment she wore when she was captured."
"By you," said Ligurious.
"Yes, by me," said Miles.
"But she did not wear it long, did she?" asked Ligurious. "No," he grinned. There was laughter
from the tables.
I did not doubt but what these garments were genuine. The last garment, for example, was
undoubtedly really that which had been taken from me in the throne room of Corcyrus, before
the very throne itself, before I had been taken naked and In chains outside, into the courtyard, to
be placed in a golden cage. These garments, Ligurious had informed me in the throne room of
Argentum, before placing me in the golden sack, from which I had been rescued by Drusus
Rencius, had been smuggled out of Corcyrus. He had probably paid much to obtain them.
The last pieces were all items of intimate feminine apparel, which had been worn next to my
body.
I was embarrassed to see them. Now that I was a slave, of course, I would have been grateful to
have even so much to wear publicly. But when I had worn them they had been the garments of a
free woman. Thus, when I saw them now it
was as one who had once been a free woman that I was embarrassed. Few free women care to
have their intimate garments exhibited publicly before men.
I then saw the sleen, a different sleen, thrust its snout deeply into the pile of garments. I could
hear it snuffling about in them. I saw the keeper, too, take the intimate 'garments, wadded in his
hand, and thrust them beneath the animal's snout. He then held one of the longer, sliplike
garments open from the bottom, and, to my horror, I saw the beast, sniffing and growling, thrust
its snout deeply into the garment. My scent, from my intimacies, would doubtless be strongest in
such 'a place.
I shrank back, even further. The hands of the soldier be-hind me, on my arms, forbade me
further retreat.
In a moment the sleen leaped forward. I closed my eyes and screamed. 'I felt the hot breath of the
animal on my breasts. I seemed surrounded by its snarling. I heard the scratching a'id slipping of
its claws on the tiles, the rattle and tightening, and rattle and tightening, again, of the links of the
chain leash, in its lunges toward me. I sensed its force, its terribleness, its eagerness. I heard the
snapping of its jaws. Could the keeper judge the distances unerringly? Could he hold the animal?
What if the chain broke? I opened my eyes. In that ins' tant the beast was again lunging toward
me. In that instant, in a flash, I saw the cavernous maw, the fangs, the long, dark tongue, the
blazing eyes, the intentn~ss, the single-mindedness, the power, the eagerness of the beast. I
threw back my head and screamed miserably. "Pity!" I begged. "I beg mercy, my masters!" I
cried, a terrified slave, addressing them all, in my terror, as though they might be my legal
masters.
Then the sleen, with a word, was withdrawn, and thrown meat. I tre'mbled. Were it not for the
hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, I might have collapsed. I saw Drusus Rencius
looking at me with scorn. I did not care. I was not a warrior. I was a girl, and a slave.
"Thus, you see," said Ligurious, "who was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus."
"Each woman, it would seem," said Claudius, "has been identified as such, one in virtue of the
articles of Hassan and one in virtue of the articles with which you have furnished us."
"Examine the seals," sa'id Ligurious, triumphantly. "See which bears the true seal of Corcyrus!"
The brokeil seals were brought to Claudius. He put them
on the table before him. Members of the high council crowded about him.
"The seal broken from the package of Ligurious," lie said,
"is the seal of Corcyrus."
"That cannot be," said Hassan.
"Perhaps you will be given two Ahn in which to leave Argentum," said Ligurious.
"I have the letter from Menicius!" said Hassan.
"It, too, doubtless, will bear the same seal as was on the package," said Ligurious.
"Yes," said Hassan.
"I, too, have such a letter, but a genuine one," said Ligurious, "describing and authenticating the
garments I have produced for you. That letter bears the signature of Menicius and is marked with
the true seal of Corcyrus." He reached within his robes and produced a letter, wrapped with a
ribbon, the ribbon and the flaps of the letter secured with a melted disk of wax, this wax bearing
the imprint of a seal.
The seal was examined.
"It is the seal of. Corcyrus," said Claudius.
The letter was opened and examined.
"The descriptions tally with the garments brought to us by Ligurious," said one of the members
of the high council.
"Who has signed the letter?" inquired Ligurious.
"Menicius," said one of the members of the high council, looking up.
'I think not," said ~voice.
   All eyes turned to the back of the room. There, the guest who had been hooded rose to
his feet.
"Who would dare to gainsay me in this?" inquired Ligurious.
With two hands the guest brushed back his hood.
"I think that I am known to several in this room," he said. "Some of you were present at my investiture as Administrator of Corcyrus."
"Menicius!" cried more than one man.
Ligurious staggered backwards.
"My dear Ligurious," said Menicius, "your confederate in Corcyrus is now in custody. He has
confessed all. I deemed, accordingly, it might be of interest to venture incognito to Argentum. I
did so with the papers of a minor envoy, bearing my own signature."
How startled I was! I now recognized, and clearly, the hitherto unknown' guest. I had known him as Menicius, of the Metal Workers. He was the man
whose life I had spared when he had spoken out so forcibly against the Tatrix, on that day, so
long ago, when I had been in the palanquin with Ligurious, that day in which, in the glory of a
state proces sion, we had been carried through the streets of Corcyrus Doubtless Drusus Rencius,
who had prevented him from reaching the palanquin, remembered him well, for his cour age and
his opposition to the rule of the Tatrix.
"I was interested to hear that you were the leader of the opposition to the rule of the Tatrix,"
said Menicius to Ligurious. "I, myself, had thought that that honor was mine." Ligurious looked about himself. He took one or two steps backward.
"I suggest that that man be put in shackles," said Menicius. "Do it," said Claudius. Two
guardsmen moved swiftly to Ligurious. In a moment his wrists had been shackled behInd him~~.
The seals," said Menicius, "on the package and letter of    til4 Hassan were genuine. It is
natural, however, that they were unfamiliar to you. They are imprints of the new seal of Cor
cyrus. It was discovered, after the institution of the new re gime in Corcyrus, that the old seal
was missing. Presumably it had been taken by Ligurious in his flight from the city That now
scems evident. For this reason, and also to commemorate the rise of a new order in Corcyrus, it
was changed."
Ligurious, shackled, looked down at the tiles.
Manicius came about the tables. He stopped before Sheila and myself. We, slaves, put our heads
to the tiles. "Lift your heads, Slaves," he said. We complied.
"We meet ag'ain," said Menicius to me.
"Yes, Master," I said. "Who are you?" he asked.
"My master is Miles of Argentum," I said. "He has named
me 'Sheila.''
 "You look well in slave chains, Sheila," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
He turned to Sheila. "Who are you?" he asked. "My master is Hassan, of Kasra," she said. "He
has named me 'Sheila.'"
"You look well in slave chains, Sheila," he said.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
He then, from his robe's, removed a package and, opening it, exhibited soft and silken contents.
She drew back, shuddering in her chains.
"These are further garments from Corcyrus,". he said "They were taken from among the
belongings of the Tatrix of Corcyrus, found. in her suite of rooms in the palace." He turned to
regard Sheila. "Perhaps, you recognize them?" hi asked.
"Admit nothing!"
"Consider the nature of thes~ garments," he said. "The' are clearly, in a fashion, slave garments.
This may be deter mined from their lightness, their softness and tininess. On th~ other hand,
there are some anomalies here. For example, notE that here there is a nether closure. That would
certainly b~ unusual in a garment permitted by a Gorean master to a fe male slave."
"They are barbarian garments,' he said. The garments hE There was laughter here.
was exhibiting to those at the tables were undergarments 0 sorts common to free women of
Earth. I had not really thought before, of how feminine they were and how appropriate to slaves. Who but a slave would permit such delicious delicate and silken things to touch their bodies?
"But few barbarian girls, as nearly as we can tell, come to Gor clothed and, if they do, they are seldom permitted to retain their clothing, or the bits of clothing left to them at thai point, past
the sales block, on which, one supposes, it' migh be removed from them."
There was some acknowledgement of this from th,e tables There is a Gorean saying that only a fool buys a woman clothed.
"The Tatrix of Corcyrus, on the other hand, though a barbarian, was apparently permitted to keep this clothing. Similarly she was permitted to keep her freedom. That was removed from her only recently by Hassan and Kasra."
Men at the tables looked at one another.
"Some of us," said Menicius, "are familiar with the rumors, the frightening rumors, that there are forces on Gor and elsewhere, who would challenge the power of the. Priest Kingsthemselves, rulers of Gor from time.
Men looked at one another, fearfully. Sometimes it seem likely to me that the Priest-Kings were mythical entities. Sure~y they mixed, as far as I could
tell, little in the affairs of Gorf. On the other hand, it was also clear to me that someone, or
something, must be in opposition to the forces w'hich bad brought me to Gor. Those forces, for
example, had mastered space flight. Surely Goreans, with their swords and spears, by
themselves, could not have resisted them. Their clandestine efforts, for all their power,
suggested the existence of a formidable couliter-power. Th(It counter-power, I suppose, for
want of a better name, might be referred to as that of Priest-Kings.
"it seems likely to me, thus," said Menicius, "that such forces might bring wealth and barbarian agents, perhaps, with no Gorean allegiances, to our world, laboring ih their behalf Too, of
course, they might recruit native Goreans for their pui~poses. How, except for such power, could
a barbarian woman, 'such as Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus, come to power in a city such
as Corcyrus? I suspect, also, that the true motivation of the attack on the mines of Argentum was
not to fill the coffers of Corcyrus, already a prosperous city, but to supplement the economic
resources of these other fo~es. They intend, perhaps, failing success in outward aggression, to
subvert our world, city by city, or to form a league of cities, that may become dominant among
our states. This might be accomplished, presumably, within the weapon laws and technological
limitations imposed upon Gorean humans by Prie~-Kings, for whatever might be their
purposes."
Men looked at Sheila. She put her head down, trembling.
"Preposterou's though those ideas may sound," said Menicius, "there is some plausibility to
them. Too, further evidence comes from two sources. Outside of Corcyrus, in a great field, have been found burned grass and three large, deep, geometrically spaced depressions, as though something of great heat and weight, perhaps
some giant, heated steel insect or fiery mechanical bird, had alighted there. Too, within the
palace itself, in a subterranean chamber, we found the smells, the spoor and traces of some large,
unknown beast which, apparently, perhaps from time to time, resided there. It had appatently
removed itself from those premises, howe~ver, well before the downfall of the city."
Ligurious was looking at the tiles. He did not look up. "Ligurious?" asked Claudius.
       "I. know nothing of these things," said Ligurious, shrug.
     ging.
       "Shall we see whose garments' these are?" inquired Meni
     cius, lifting the delicate undergarments of Earth clutched i~
     his fist.
       "Yes, yes," said various men in the room.
       "Please, no, M~ter!" wept Shei~a. Then she lowered hei
     head, cringing, for she had spoken without permission. The
     soldier behind her looked to Hassan, who nodded. Uc the~
     cuffed her to her side from behind with the back of his hand
     and then ordered her again to her knees, to which position
     she struggled in her chains. Menicus, meanwhile, had thrown
     the garments, in a silken, fluttering wad, to one of the sleen
     masters who thrust them beneath the snout of the beast. In a
     moment it was moving swiftly about the room its nose to the
     floor, and then, suddenly, taking the scent, lunged murderously
   ously, claws slipping on the tiles, toward Sheila. Inches from
     her body, the chain on its collar jerked taut, it was held back
     She screamed but could not withdraw, held mercilessly, im
     mobilely, on her knees, in place, by the soldier behin& her.
       "The identification is made," said Claudius, and, with a
     wave of his hand, signaled the sleen keeper to divert and          pacify his beast. A word was whispered. The sleen, suddenly
     in the superbness of its rraining, drew back. It seemed, sud
     denly calm. Its tail no longer lashed back and forth. It~
     tongue, from the heat of its activity, lolled forth from it~
     mouth, dripping saliva to the tiles. I could see, too, the im
     print of its paws, in dampness, on the tiles. The sleen tends to
     sweat largely through its mouth and the leathery paws of itE
     feet. It fell upon the meat which it was thrown.
       Sheila, released by the soldier, struggled to re'main upright
     She sobbed, then, gasping, shuddering, her head back, half in
     shock. I was pleased that it had been she and not 1 who had
     been the object of this second identification. I felt sorry fo
     her. I saw that she now, like I, was only a slave. Not only are
     there masters on Gor, but there are sleen. We strive to bi
     pleasing. We do what we are told.
      "May I speak, Master?" asked Sheila of Hassan.
     "Be silent!" said Ligurious.
     "You may speak," said Hassan to his slave.
      "I confess all," she said. "I was the true Tatrix of Cor cyrus!        The woman next to me is innocent.
        She was brough to Gor as an unwitting dupe, one selected to serve as proxy for me in case our plans should go
awry. She had no true power, save a pittance which we, for our purposes, were sometimes
pleased to accord to her. What crimes there are here are mine, or those of the free woman I once
was. It will not be necessary, therefore, to impale us both. I alone am she whom you seek. I was
captured in Ar by Hassan, of Kasra, who is now my master. The reward of fifteen hundred gold
pieces is thus rightfully his. I am prepared now to be turned over, ~s a slave, to Claudius, the
Ubar of Argentum, and the high council~of Argentum, to face their justice."
"Fool!" cried Ligurious. "Fool!" He struggled in his manacles. They held him well.
I regarded Sheila wildly, almost disbelievingly. She had acknowledged her identity. I was now
an exonerated slave, at least of her crimes, if not of mine, those of pettiness, of pride, of
selfishness and cruelty, crimes for which a woman on Gor can be regarded as fittingly enslaved.
"You have me naked and in chains now before you, I who was once Sheila, the Tatrix' of
Corcyrus, your enemy," she said. "I am now yours to do with as you please."
"Fool!" cried Ligurious.
"What of the speculations of Menicius," Inquired Claudius, "thos~ having to do with affairs of
worlds, of the business of PricstKings and others."
"They are sound, Mastey," she said.
"Be.silent!" said Ligurious.
"Speak," said Claudius.
"Hold, Caludius," cautioned a man. "Consider whether or not it 'is proper for mere mortals to
inquire into such matters."
"Such thoughts are surely to be reserved for the second or
third knowledge," said another man.
"I am a man," said another. "I repudiate the distinctions between knowledgs. Knowledge is one.
It is only knowers who are many.
"We are not Initiates," said another man. "Our status, prestige and livelihood do not depend on the perpetuation ofignorance and the,propagation of superstition"
"Heresy!" cried a fellow.
"I shall inquire into truth as I please," said another. "I am a free man."
"It is our world, too," said a fellow.
"Surely it is permissible to inquire into such matters," said another, "if we do so with circumspection and respect."
"I think," said Claudius, "in these matters both our fears and our noble, belligerent vanities are out of place. Gods, for example; I trust, do not have need of the silver of Argentum, nor do they
have need of fiery ships for plying the long, dark roads between worlds. Gods, I trust, do not leave spoor in subterranean chambers nor deep wounds in remote turfs. These things of which
we speak, 1 think, are thti'gs which can' eat and bleed."
"We do not 'speak, then, of Priest-Kings," said a man, relieved.
"Who knows the nature of Priest-Kings?" asked a man. "Some say they have no form," said a man, "only that they exist."
"Some say that they have no matter," said a man, "except that they are real.'
"Surely they are like us," said a man, "only grander and more powerful."
"Let us not waste time in idle speculations," said a man.
"Speak," said Claudius to Sheila.
"There are two worlds involved, Master," she said, "Gor, and the world called Earth."
"Lying slave!" said a man. "Earth is mythical! It is only in stories. It does not exist."
"Forgive me, Master," she said, "but Earth is real, I assure you. I am from Earth, and so, too, is the slave to my right."
The man looked at me, closely.
"Yes, Master," I whispered, frightened.
"That Earth is real is in the second knowledge," said one of the men, a fellow wearing the yellow of the Builders, a high caste.
"I was taught that, too," said the fellow witb him, also in the yellow of the Builders. "Do you think it is really true?"
"I suppose so," said the first man. The classical knowledge distinctions on Gor tend to follow caste lines, the first knowledge being regarded as appropriate for the lower castes and the second
knowledge for the higher castes. That there is a third knowledge, that of Priest-Kings, is also a common belief. The distinctions, however, between knowledge tend to be somewhat imperfect
and artificial. For example, the second knowledge, while required of the higher castes and not of the lower castes, is not prohibited to the lower castes. It is not a body of secret or jealously guarded trutbs, for example. Go' rean libraries, like the tables of
Kaissa tournaments, tend to be open to men of all castes.
"Go r, and the world called Earth," she said, "are prizes in a struggle of titantic forces, the forces
of those whom you call Priest-Kings and of those whom you think of as others, or whom we might think of as beasts."
"And what is the nature of these Beasts?" asked Claudius.
"I have never Seen one," she said.
"Ligurious?" asked Claudius.  *
"I choose not to speak," he said, sullenly.
"Continue," said Claudius to Sheila.
"Both Priest-Kings and Beasts possess powerful weaponry and are masters of space travel," she
said. "Intermittently, it is my understanding, for generations, they have been involved in combat.
Probes ' and skirmishes are frequent. As yet outright force- has been unable to prevail. In many
respects Priest- Kings seem to be tolerant and defensive creatures. For example, they permit
native beasts on Gor, marooned beasts, an;d such, provided such obey, their 'laws, particularly
with respect to weaponry and technology. And never have they pursued the beasts to their steel
lairs in space, pursuing temporary advantages in these perennial conflicts. The beasts, it is my
surmise, having hitherto failed to win Gor by overt conquest, attenipt now to obtain p6wer on
this world by specific and detailed subversions, mixing in, and influencing, the politics and
affairs of cities. Indeed, in this way, perhaps they, too, hope to prepare the way for an eventual
full-scale invasion, one which could then be supplied and supported by a number of strategically
located ciiies, or leagues of cities. I know little more, specifically, in these,matters than my own role. By means of the wealth of
beasts and the influence of
Ligurious, the first minister of Corcyrus, I was brought to power in Corcyrus. There, supported~
by the influence and Wealth of beasts, and abetted by Ligurious, I ruled. I grew soon fond of the
throne. Testing i~y power I found it real. I Was exhilarated. I became ambitious to expand the
sphere of Corcyrus's influence and, in particular, to obtain, if possible, for my own wealth, the
mines of Argentum. In these things I exceeded my authority. Ligurious, against his better
judgment, at least initially, pleaded my case with beasts and protected me from them, convincing
them to accept my proposals. Liguri ous was smitten with me. I seduced him to my projects. I played with his feelings. I toyed with his emotions. I exploited his sentiments. I made him dance
like a puppet to my will. I 1deprived him of his leadership and manhood."
I looked at Ligurious. His face was dark with anger as he looked down at Sheila, now another man's slave.
"These projects, to be sure, weredangerous," she said. "Too, I was a valued agent. Thus, through Ligtirious, an order was placed with the beasts, that a double might be obtained for me. The girl
selected was the collared slave to my right, how the slave, as I understand it, of Miles of Argentin. He was brought to Gor and taught that she was Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus. She
came to accept this identity. Some knew me as the Tatrix. Some knew her as the Tatrix. That there were actually two women involved was a carefully guarded secret, known only to a handful
of trusted followers. We miscalcu,lated seriously in at least one matter. We did not think that Ar would honor its treaty commitments with Argentum, that it would risk all-out war with the Cosian Alliance, in which Corcyrus was implicated. As it turned out, of course, Ar did support Argentum and, as it also turned out, we were not supported by Cos. Defeated in war and in the face of an up-rising, too, within our own city, Ligurious and I, with some others, fled. The slave on my right, she who was brought to Gor as my double, was left behind on the throne, to be captured and, in my place, bear the wrath of the enemy. As you know, she escaped. A vast, intenseand lengthy search was undertaken to recover her. In this search, as you know, as well, both of us were eventually apprehended. Now both of us, she who was the Tatrix and she who was her double, now both no more than slaves, kneel stripped before you, helpless In your chains." She put down her head.
"Speak further," said Claudius.
The slave lifted her head. "You may put me under tortures, Master," she said, "but, woe, I know little more than I have spoken. The beasts keep us much in ignorance so that, if captured, we can reveal little of their strategies and plans. What details there are beyond those I have given you would, I fear, be meaningless or trivial to you, such things as descriptions of the appearances of agents on Earth, where I was first contacted, and such."
"As beasts may be allied with men," said Claudius, "so, too, I suppose, might men be allied with Priest-Kings."
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Are there not, then, on Gor, places where such men may be found?" asked Claudius.
"There are several, doubtless, Mastet," she said.
"Name one such place," said Claudius.
She turned white. She looked to Hassan, her master. His eyes forbade hesitation. Neither mercy nor lenience were to be shown to her.
"The house of Samos, in Port Kar," she whispered.
Clatidius looked to Menicius.
Claudius then regarded Ligurious.
"I choose not to comment on these matters," he said, straightening himself. He seemed very strong. He was the sort of man, it seemed to me, who might serve as master to the slave in almost any woman. Many times, I knew, I had felt the helpless desire and f'ear of a slave in his presence. Sheila did not meet his eyes. No longer was she a Tatrix. She was now naught but a stripped and chained slave.
"Tortures, doubtless," said Menicius, "might be brought to bear upon your resolve."
"True," said Ligurious, "but only at the cost of sacrificing the honor of Argentum."
Claudius looked at Ligurious.
"Claudius?" asked Menicius.
"Ligurious, it is true," said Clauditis, "came to us a free man, of his own will. He has been
guaranteed' immunity in Argen turn, and has been guaranteed a safe conduct from her walls."
"He has sought to misdirect our inquiries and has distorted and misrepresented evidence," said a man.
"Perjurious abominations he has uttered!" cried a man. "Impale him!" cried another.
"Impale him!" cried yet another. Men rose to their feet, shaking their fists.
"Impale him!" cried several.
Ligurious smiled. The victory was his. What a small thing would be his impalement compared to the stain on the escutcheon of Argentum. His freedom was guaranteed.
"Remove the former first minister of Corcyrus from our presence," said Claudius, "lest I be tempted to betray the pledge of my city. Let his shackles be removed only in his own quarters, to which he is to be closely confined."
Two soldiers seized Ligurious by the arms,
"We have to inquire into these matters," said Claudius to bgunous, "and resolutions to be made. It is possible we
may have need of you for further testimony, asseverations germane to our proceedings. In any
event, your presence will be retained for our pleasure until our deliberations have been
concluded. Then, and then only, will the pledge of Arge'ntum be honored."
"Such a re'servation is fully in accord with our original arrangements," said Ligurious loftily.
"I abide by your decision as willingly as I must also abide by it, perforce."
  "Postpone the deliberations a thousand years!" cried a man.
"That is not the way of Argentum," smiled Claudius.
At a gesture from Claudius Ligurious was conducted from the room.
"Do you object, Menicius, my friend?" asked Claudit's.
"I had not realized the guarantees extended by Argentum," said Menicius. "You have, of course,
under the circumstances, no choice."
"I feel sorry for him in a way," said Claudius, looking after Ligurious. "He is a strong man,
ruthless and powerful, proud and strong, but he permitted himself to be the dupe of a female, to
be wound about the finger of a woman."
Claudius then pointed tb Sheila. "Bring that slave forward," he said.
4,'  With a whimper Sheila was dragged to her feet, pulled for-ward and, with' a rattle of
chain, thrown to her knees before Claudius.
"This woman," said Claudius, pointing to Sheila, "has been
proved by evidence and testimony, both written and oral, to be the former Tatrix of Corcyrus.
Indeed, this fact has been acknowledged, ultimately, even in her own admission."
He looked down at Sheila. "Who captured you and brought you here, Slave?" he asked.
"Hassan, of Kasra, Master," she said.
"The reward, then," said Claudius, "clearly belongs to Hassan, of Kasra. let it be brought!"
An officer left the room. Hassan came' forward, about the tables, to stand near the kneeling
slave. In a few moments the officer had returned. He carried a heavy, bulging sack over his
shoulder which he lowered gently, heavily, to the floor be-fore the table. It must have weighed
between ninety and one hundred pounds.
"In this sack," said Claudius, "carefully counted, but assure yourself of the matter, are fifteen
hundred pieces of gold, stamped staters of Argentum, certified by the mint of the Ubar."
Hassan looked down at Sheila.
"Shall scales be brought?" asked Claudius. "We will take no offense. If any discrepancy be found, perhaps the result of some inadvertence, we shall see that it is made good."
"No," said Hassan. "Weights and balances, the chains and pans, need not be fetched forth."
"Accept then the reward," said Claudius. "You have well earned it."
"What fate do you intend for this woman?" asked Hassan.
'Claudius shrugged. "The mounting for the impaling spear has already been prepared," he said.
"The spear itself has been sharpened and polished."
"Fifteen hundred gold pieces," said Hassan, "seems a great deal of' money for a mere slave."
"It was you yourself, as I understand it," smiled Claudius, "who 'neck-ringed her and, shortly thereafter, with a blazing iron, marked her slave."
Hassan smiled. "I seem to recall something to that effect," he said, He looked down at Sheila.
"Are you a slave?" he asked.
"Yes, my master," she said, "and only you know how much a' slave."
I 'was thrilled to hear her say this. Every woman, in her deepest heart, wants to find a man whom she must serve perfectly, a man who will bring out the fundamental and profound slave in her, a
man who will bend her uncompromisingly and helplessly to his will. In Hassan Sheila, obviously, had found such a man.
"Are you prepared, now," asked Hassan, "to be turned over to Claudius and the high council?"
"Yes, Master," she said. "I ask only, first, to be permitted one last time to kiss your feet in
respect and reverence, and, in doing so, to express, too, my gratitude for the joy you have 'given
me in these few days you have owned me. They have been the most precious of my life." She
then, tenderly, kissed his feet, extending obeisance and love to the man who had made her a slave. There were tears in my eyes.
Hassan laughed, a roar of a laugh. She looked up, startled.
"Do you truly think I brought you here," he laughed, "to turn you over to Claudius and the high council?"
"Of course, Master," she said. "No!" he laughed.
There were cries of astonishment from those about.
"Kiss my feet fifteen hundred times,' you luscious baggage," he laughed, "at least once for every gold piece you are costing me!"'
"Yes, Master," she cried, 'startled, putting down her head.
"This woman was the latrix of Corcyrus, was she now?" laughed Hassan.
"Yes," said Claudius, startled. "That has been established, even by her own admissions."
"And I have, thus, earned the reward, fully and clearly, il I should wish it?" asked Hassan.
"Certainly," said Claudius, puzzled.
"That is all I wanted," said Hassan. "Indeed, it is all I evei wanted."
"I do not understand," said Claudius.
"For years," said Hassan, "I have heard of the Tatrix ol Corcyrus, of her tyranny, of her fabled
pride and beauty. I found such a woman intriguing. Then, wonder of wonders, she fell. None could find her. I was curious to know what iy would be like to have such a woman in my collar, a fairskinned, golden-haired Tatrix of the north, to make her crawl, and cry and serve, to make her a man's woman."
I looked at Sheila. She was weeping with joy at his feet, kissing them, and his ankles and legs. "I love you, Master," she wept.
"So I captured her and made her a slave, mine," said Has-San.
"It was never your intention, then, to deliver her to us?" asked a member of the high council.
"No," said Hassan. "Had that been my intention I would not have removed her virginity from her
and enslaved her."
"Had you never any doubts on this matter?" asked a man.
"Had I any," smiled Hassan, "they disappeared the instant I saw her. I knew then I would keep her for my own slave."
"But why did you bring her here?" asked a man.
"That you might see her humbled and helpless, and for my own glory," said Hassan.
"It is pleasing to see the former Tatrix of Corcyrus as a humbled slave," said a man.
'Yes' said Hassan.
"What if we take her from you?" asked a man.
"You will not do so," said Hassan. "That would be thefy"
"But what of her crimes?" asked a man.
"Those were the crimes of a free woman," ~aid Hassan. "She is no longer a free woman. She is now only a slave."
"I love you, my master," whispered the slave, her head at his feet.
     "Sheila," said Hassan.
"Yes, Master,'t she said, lifting her bead.
"You may continue your obeisances and services in the privacy of my chambers," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said. She rose to her feet, her head humbly lowered.
"Conduct her to my quarters," said Hassan to a soldier, he who held the key to her chains, "and chain her to the slave ring at the foot of my couch."
The soldier glanced to Claudius, and then nodded. "Come, Slave," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said, and was conducted from the room.
It has been an interesting evening," said Hassan, lifting his hand to the assemblage. "I wish you all well!"
We, too, wish you well, Hunter," said Claudius.
"Hail, Hassan!" called a man.
"Hail, Hassan!" called others.
The men rose from about the tables, saluting and applauding Hassan. He, lifting his hands, and
turning, waving to them, took his leave from the hall. I think he was eager to begin the instructions of a slave.
Men, then, in twos and threes, began to take their leave. Menicius stood before me. He put out his hands and I lifted my' chained wrists to him. He took my hands and turued them over,
looking at the snug wrist rings locked on them.
"lf I had my tools," he said, "I could have these off of you in a matter of Ehn."
I looked up at him, startled. I knew, of course, that he was of the metal workers.
"But without a key, or such help, you are absolutely helpless in them, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," 1 said.
He smiled.
"You!" I said. "It was you who freed me in the camp of Miles of Argentum!"
"Once," he said, 'you spared my life, in' Corcyrus. It seemed only fitting, then, that I might, if it were within my power, grant you some small favor In return."
"But how could you have gained entrance into the camp," I said. "And there were two of you."
There was another, as well, one who must have had influence, one who must have been trusted,one who must have been more highly placed.
I saw Drusus Rencius looking at me.
"You," I whispered. "It was you!"
"Perhaps," he said.
"But you are an officer of Ar," I said. "How cbuld you do such a thing?"
He looked at me, angrily. "I know you," he said. "Whatever might be your frailties, your weaknesses, your pettinesses, your cruelties, I could not believe you were guilty of the crimes of
the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Such things I could not believe were In you. Thus, I did not free the Tatrix of CorCyrus. Rather, to prevent a miscarriage of justice, I assisted in the escape of an
innocent woman. In this sense I could even regard my act as having been performed in the line of duty."
"You did not know, truly," I said, "that I was not the Tatrix, nor that I could not be guilty of such crimes. Indeed, in Corcyrus, you even identified me, explicitly, as the Tatrix!"
His face clouded with anger.
"Your motivations were more complex," I said, "and deeper, and more painful and more cruel. I twas not within your province to determine my innocence or guilt. That responsibility was that of
Claudius, t~e Ubar of Argentum, and the high council. In no way was it incumbent on you to risk your commission, your future, your honor, your life, on what must at best have been little more
than a remote possibility."
He regarded me with fury.
My heart leapt with joy. "You love me!" I whispered. "You love me!"
I feared for a moment he might strike me. But he did not do so.I was another man's slave.
"I love you, Master!" I wept. "I have loved you from the beginning, when I first met you!"
He regarded me, wildly. Then be sneered, "Lying slave!"
"No, Master!" I protested. "I love you! I do love you! I love you with my whole heart!"
"What is going on here?" asked Miles of Argentum, coming over.
     "Nothing," said Drusus Rencius
Menicius was smiling.
Miles of Argentum took the key to my chains from the sol
dier who had held it. He freed me of those stern impedi
ments, so suitable for the confinement of women such as I
slaves.
"Slave," said he.
"Yes, my master," I said.
"Go to the quarters of my women," he said.
"Yes, my master," I said and, tears in my eyes, fled to the quarters of his women.
I lay naked on the couch of Ligurious, in the palace in Argeiltum. His totich had already reduced me, more than once, to a quivering slave.
"Wine," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, and struggled up, turning. fetched him the goblet from a small, low table near the couch and, in a moment, after kissing the goblet, head down, kneeling, arms extended,
proffered it to him. He sipped a bit of the wine, a Ka-la-na of Ar, and then returned the goblet to me. I kissed it again, and then replaced it on the table. With a gesture he indicated that I might
once again crawl onto the couch. This was the last evening Ligurious was to spend In Argentum.
In the morning he was to receive safe c,onduct from' the city. I had been assigned to serve him tonight, in accord with the generosity of Gorean masters. Another girl, too, was to serve him, but
I did not know who she was.
There was a knock at the door.
"Kneel, and grasp your ankles," he said.
I did so.I was then helpless, bound by his will.
He went to the door and opeped it
A slave was there. She was. naked., her hands were behind her back. About her neck, tied, was.a key, doubtless to her
bracelets, and a whip. There' were' two guards at the portal, but they were those who had been guarding it. The girl had apparently come alone through the hails to the portal, obedi ently,
as I had. Ligurious indicated that she should enter. She did, and he closed, and locked, the door behind her.
He freed her of the bracelets and tossed them, and the key, to the side. He then removed the
whip from about her neck. He regarded her. Their eyes met.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Kneel, Slave," said Ligurious, defining the relationship between them.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Is that the fashion in which I have my women kneel be-
fore me?" he asked.
"Forgive me, Master," she said, and put her head down to the tiles before him, the palms of her hands flat qn the floor.
"Lift your head," he said. She did so.
"Kiss the whip," he said. "Again, lingeringly!"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Now lick and kiss it," he said. "Yes, Master," she whispered.
He then hurled the whip from him. It slid back across the tiles, until it stopped, at the door.
"Fetch," he said.
The girl, on her hands and knees, went to the whip. She put down her head at the heavy, locked door and picked up the whip, delicately, in her teeth. She then, the whip in her teeth, turned
frn'm the door and, head down, on her hands and knees, returned to the center of the room.
"Kneel," he said, "in the position of the pleasure slave." She knelt, then, back on her heels, her knees spread widely, her back straight, her shoulders back, her belly sucked in, her head up, her
hands on her thighs. Between her teeth was the staff of the whip.
"Whip,"' said Ligurious.
She gave him the whip, extending her head towards him, opening her mouth, letting him take it from between, her
teeth. She then, unbidden, resumed the erect, graceful, beautiful position of the Gorean pleasure slave.
He shook out the blades of the whip and dangled them before her eyes.
She swallowed, hard.
"Face that direction," said Ligurious, pointing.
She rotated her body about a hundred degrees to her left.
"On your belly," he said.
She went to her belly, her hands at the sides of her head. fle changed his position a little. He was now a bit behind her, and to her left. He was right-handed.
She began to tremble.
He looked down at her.
I, kneeling, tightened the grasp on my ankles. I was sweating.
I looked at the branded female on the tiles.
Sheila, who had once been the Tatrix of Corcyrus, now a slave girl, lay at the feet of Ligurious,
who had once been her first minister, positioned.
How she had used him, and tortured him! How cleverly she had manipulated him, how insidiously and cunningly she had exploited him!
He let the blades of the whip, idly, brush her back. She whimpered. I recalled her words, two evenings ago, in the banquet hall, how she had.said that she had made him dance like a puppet to her will, how she had deprived him of his leadership and manhood.
He drew the blades back, away froin her body. "What are you?" he asked.
"A slave, Master," she said.
"And what else?" he asked.
"Naught else, Master," she said.
I wondered if she retained power over him yet. I saw the whip swing back now, and to the side.
He held it with both hands. On Earth a woman may reduce, diminish and destroy a man with impunity. This, however, was not Earth; it was Gor. I saw the whip pause at the height of its arc.
I wondered if she retained power over him yet. Then I saw his eyes. In them I saw that the spell which she had exercised over him was broken.
I cried out and averted my eyes, swiftly, as the whip fell. The beating lasted only a few moments.
Then I looked back. Sheila was on her side, her body flaming with burning stripes; she was gasping and sobbing; she looked wildly up at Ligurious, a Gorean master. Then she looked away
from him, not dating tp nieet his eyes. She, a female, lay now at the feet of a male, he totally dominant over her. She was now1in her place in nature.
"Do you wish to be whipped further?" he asked.
"No, Master!" she sobbed.
"You will serve well, aud yield perfectly," he said.
"Yes, Master!" she said, ferventlyb
Ligurious turned to face me. "You may break position," he Baid.
Swiftly I released my ankles and slipped from the surface of the couch, to stand beside it.
"Bring furs from the surface of the couch, and spread them here, on the tiles," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I saw that, in his use of her, he would not permit Sheila the dignity of the couch.
"Kiss the furs," said he to her, "and crawl upon them." She did so.
"On your back," said he to her, "split your legs, part your lips, lift your arms to me."
The slave complied. He forced her to hold the position for a few moments and then he crouched down near her and took her head in his hands, pulling her up to a seated position, and crushed
her lips beneath his. She murmured and moaned, and then, when he thrust her back, I saw there was blood at her mouth. She whimpered, frightened. I think he had waited years for that kiss.
Then, patietitly, and with uncompromising authority, he addressed himself to her beauty. In moments, choiceless, she was a sobbing, aroused, begging slave.
"You amuse me," he said.
"Please, Master," she begged. "Please!"
But he continued to tease and torment her, toying with her emotions and passions1 She writhed in his arms, pleading, helpless and needful, performing and commanded. She might have been a paga slave or a girl rented on a mat in the back streets of Argentum.
"You juice well," he informed her.
"Thank you, Master," she sobbed. "Please, Master! Please!"
I lay on my side, at the edge of the furs, near them. I
watched with fascination, learning what a man could do to one who was how no more than one of my sisters in bondage.
Then, after a time, at last, he permitted her her slave's yielding, and in it she cried out her slavery, and her submission to men, and, specifically, to he who was her master of the evening.
Then she lay in his arms, softly and tenderly, an over-whelmed, submitted slave.
I thought the vengeance he had taken on her had been exquisite. In his arms she had found her bondage well confirmed upon her.
Ligurious, Sheila in his arms, looked over at me.  I then lay, my belly sucked in, my legs slightly flexed, my
toes pointed, as seductively as possible before him. I, too, was a slave, and at his disposal this evening.
He rolled to his back, looking up at the ceiling.
"I did not know that you were such a man," she whispered.
"Nor I," he smiled, "that you were such a woman."
"You were harsh with me, Master," she smiled.
"Do you object?" he asked.
"No," she said.
I then crawled to him, and kissed him gently on the thigh. 1 did not wish to be forgotten.
"A fortunate man am I," said Ligurious, "to be served by two Tatrixes.
"Two slaves, Master," she smiled.
Twice more that night did he make use of her, and, at various times, he had one or another of us, and sometimes both, please and serve him. Toward morning, when she slept, he made use of me
again, and I yielded to him once more, gasping softly, as a slave to the master.
Then later we lay together, quietly. It felt good to lie close to such a strong man, a master.
"Sheila will make Hassan a fine slave," he said.
"He will see to it," I smiled.
"She loves him," he said.
"With the profundity of the slave," I acknowledged.
"He loves her, too, I think," he said.
"I think so, too, Master," I said. "Do you love her?"
"No," he said. "That infatuation was an illness. I am cured
now. I retain, however, of course, a fondness for her as might anyone for a pleasing slave."
"Then, too," I said, "it is my hope that you have some fondness for me."
"Yes," he said, "I am also fond of you."
"May I speak?" I a'sked.
"Yes," he said.
"It is a long time since I was brought to Gor with steel on my ankle."
"Yes," he said. That band of steel had been removed from me in Corcyrus. It was, I gathered, a device by means of which slavers, or those in league with Beasts, or those opposed to
Priest-Kings, marked women brought to Gor for their purposes.
"The major purpose for~ which I was brought to Gor, I gather," I said, "was to serve as a precautionary double for
Sheila, one who might then, particularly in the event of the failure of your plaans, serve to confuse or deceive enemies, one who might, say, divert attention from her true whereabouts, one
who might even, perhaps, be caught and sentenced in her place, that she might then make good
her escape."
"Yes," said Ligurious, "that sort of thing, precisely, and well would you have served such purposes had you not managed to escape from the camp of Argentum."
"Do you begrudge me my escape, Master?" I asked.
"No," he said, "for had you not escaped I would still be not as a master to a woman but as, in effect, her slave."
"If there was a major purpose for which I was brought to Gor," I said, "then it seems evident, and I think you have stated or implied as much, that there must have been a minor purpose, or
purposes, as well." I recalled I had gathered something of this sort even from the agents I had met on Earth.
"Yes," he said, "of course, and to understand it, and well, you would need only to regard yourself, and closely, in the mirror. In particular, note the beauty of your face, its intelligence and sensitivity, and your softness and femininity, so different from that of more masculine women, those with larger amounts of male hormones, and the lusciousness of your slave curves.
There was indeed a minor purpose for which you were brought to Gor, that purpose which I called to your attention in the throne room, here in Argentum, that purpose which you now, you little she-sleen, obviously wish to hear explicitly reiterated."
"Oh?" I asked, innocently.
"That purpose for which most women are brought to Gor," he said.
"And what purpose might that be?" I inquired, innocently.
"That purpose which you now, from your hair to your toes, manifest so perfectly," he said.
"Oh?" I asked.
"That purpose?" he said. "Is it not obvious? It was to be made a female slave."
"Yes, Master," I said, and kissed him.
For a time we lay quietly side by side, not speaking. Each of us, I think, had our thoughts.
"Master," I whispered.
"Yes," he said.
"May I speak again?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Sheila and I have our collars," I said. "We must go where masters wish, heeding them and doing their bidding. But what of you? Tomorrow you will have your freedom. What will you do?
Where will you go?"
"Away," he said. "I do not really know." He kissed me, softly, and I kissed him back, gently.
Then lie fell asleep.
I lay there for a time. Sheila was owned by Hassan, whom ~she loved. I, like many women, was owned by Miles of Argentum, whom I admired and respected, and feared, and to whom 1 could
not help but yield helplessly and promptly, but whom I did not love. Tears sprang into my eyes.
Then, after a time, I, too, fell asleep.
"Here," said Drusus Reticius, angrily, to Publius, of house of Kijomenes.
I jerked the bit of slave silk tightly, defensively, about body, and backed from the soldier.
I could not help responding as I had!
"It is as I told you, long ago, in Corcyrus," smiled Publi
"Yes," said Drusus Rencius. He then placed a silver t~' in the hand of Publius.
"Do not withdraw, Slave," said Pu blius to me.
"Yes, Master," I said, and knelt; on the broad stair lea( up to the serving dais in the private dining room in palace at Argentum.
"It is not wise to wager against a slaver in such mattE said Publius. "We can tell such matters at a glance."
"I had thought, then, at least, that she was different," Drusus Rencius.
"She is too vital and healthy, and has too strong drive be different," said Publius.
I knelt on the broad stair, embarrassed, holding the 5 silk about me. On this same stair, and on the floor below, on the surface of the dais itself, before the long, low, table, I had been ordered to writhe, to the music. Then I been ordered to stand, my knees flexed, with my hands clasped behind my neck. Then a soldier had been ordered feel me. I had jerked and almost screamed from his touch.The man had smelled his hand, and laughed. is "You are right," had said Drusus Rencius to Publius, a slave, and a natural one."
"Yes," had said Publius.
I put down my head and stared, angrily, at the carpeting on the stair. I had known for months, of course, that I was a natural slave. It is not hard for a woman to know this. It can be made clear to her in many ways, for example, from dreams and fantasies, and from
wishes, desires and needs. It is one thing for a woman to know this, of course, and quite another for her to find it made the subject of a public demonstration.
"You see," said Publius, "is it not as I told you?"
"Yes," granted Drusus Rencius, good-naturedly.
I looked down, almost in tears, a proven natural slave. How unworthy I was of Drusus Rencius!
"May I withdraw, Masters?" I asked.
"No," said Publius. "Continue with your service, Sheila."
"Yes, Master," I said, and rose to my feet. In a few moments, again, I was serving the men, bringing them food anddrink, seemingly as though nothing had happened.
This matter went back to the time when I was a free woman, and had been taken for a tour to the house of Kliomenes by Drusus Rencius. In Publius's office he had made the wager, while I knelt in the light to one side. Drusus Ren cius had accepted it.
'Cakes, Masters?" I asked, kneeling near them, proffering them the tray.
"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
"Yes," said Publius.
Drusus Rencius and Publius did not have slaves of their own in Argentum. Susan and I had been volunteered by our master, Miles of Argentum, to serve them. With a movement of Publius's finger, I wa's dismissed from the side of their table.
I replaced the tray of tiny cakes on the nearby serving table.
Susan then approached the diners. "Black wine, Masters?'
she asked.
"Yes," said Drusus Rencius.
"Yes," said Publius.
Susan then turned to me and snapped her fingers. "Sheila," she called.
"Yes, Mistress," I said. I took the vessel of black wine, removing it from its warmer, and put it on its tray, that already bearing the tiny cups, the creams and sugars, the spices, tbe napkins and spoons. I then carried the tray, with the black wine, hot and steaming, to the table and put it down there. Susan then, as "first slave," took the orders and did the measuring and mixing; I, as "second slave," did the pouring. Afterward~ I returned the tray 'to the serving table, and the vessel of black wine to its warmer I then joined Susan, kneeling beside her in the vicinity of the serving table.
"When it comes time to serve the liqueurs," said Susan, "you will serve those of Cos and Ar, and
I will serve ~bosc of Tuna."
"Yes, Mistress," I said,. The liqueurs of 'Turia are usually regarded as the best, but I think this islargely a matter of taste. Those of Cos and of Ar, and of certain other cities, are surely very fine.
I had little doubt that Drusus Rencius, of Ar, and Publius, at least once of Ar, would prefer those of their own city. Susan, I suspected, knowing my feelings for Drusus Rencius, was trying to be kind, giving me the liqueur that he was almost certain to choose. On the other hand, did she not know that now I could scarcely bear to face him, that I, only Ehn ago, had been proven before him to be a natural slave!
"You are not a free woman," whispered Susan. "Suppose the men look this way. Get those knees apart!"
"Yes, Mistress," I said. Susan was younger and smaller than I but she, having seniority over me among the women of Miles of Argentum, was dominant over me. I must obey her as though she owned me, as though she was my Mistress. In such ways is order kept among slaves. It is in accord with the precisions and perfections of Gorean discipline. But the men did not soon call for their liqueurs. Twice more, rather, talking and sipping, did they
call for black wine, and twice more did two slaves, Susan and Sheila, serve it to them. Eventually it grew late, and the musicians were permitted to withdraw.
Still the men drank and talked.
"Why are you crying?" asked Susan.
"It is nothing," I said. I gasped, and half choked. I held back sobs. I restrained my tears. I wiped my eyes with slave silk.
Before the man I loved I had been 'stripped to the core. The one thing I had desired most fervently to conceal from
him, above all men, bad been made clear to him. My secret Was revealed. My deepest and most secret self had been casually disrobed and displayed for his con~ideration. I had been publicJy
proven, before the man I loved, to be utterly worthless. I had been publicly proven to be a natural slave.
"They are ready for their liqueurs," whispered Susan.
We then brought them to them, on the two small trays.
"Liqueurs, Masters?" askcd Susan.
"Liqueurs, Masters?' I asked.
"Yes," said Dertisus Heneius.
"'Yes," said Publius.
Publius, to my surprise, selected a liqueur of Turia. "Those of Tuna are the best," be said to Drusus Rencius, smiling, almost apologetically.
"Perhaps," smiled Drusus Rencius, "but I prefer those of Ar."
 'In the judgment of liqueurs," said Publius, "'patriotism is out of place."
"'I have never confused objectivity with municipal pride," responded Drusus Rencius.
"Perhaps," said Publius. "But you also thought that this Woman was not a natural slave."
"That is true," laughed Drusus Rencius.
I looked at the silver tarsk oil the table near Publius. It seemed very large and very heavy. It glinted softly in the
light. I could see, the light, a dark, crescentlike shadow on one side about its rim, oil the wood. He had not yet placed it
in his pouch. He had won it from Drusus Rencius.
"Look at me, Slave," said Drusus Rencius.
I struggled to lift my head. I met his eyes. Then I lowered my head, ashamed.
"I was wrong about you," he said.
"Yes, Master," I whispered.
"You are indeed a natural slave," be said, "and an obvious one."
"Yes, Master," I said.
I looked again at the coin near Publius. Drusus Rencius had made a wager. He had lost the wager. He had lost the bet.
"You may leave, Slaves," said Publius.
"Thank you, Master," said Susan.
"Thank you, Master," I said. Then I turned and fled from the room, sobbing.
Behind rhe I heard Publius laug~rig, a great, roaring laugh. He was well pleased, it seemed. Doubtless he should have been. He had won his bet.
I was thrust, laughing and stumbling, down the hall before Drusus Rencius. I wore nothing but a steel collar locked on my neck.
I preceded bim, pushed' and thrust toward his quarters. I laughed with joy. He was not gentle with me. He was angry.
"To your belly!" he snarled, at the entrance to his quarters.
Then, in a moment, as I lay on the tiles I felt my hands jerked behind my back and tied there, tightly. In another moment, I felt his strong hands cross my ankles and loop them with binding
fiber. Then, by the loops, they were drawnclosely together. Through my ankles I felt the jerking tight of the knots. I then lay there at his feet, helplessly trussed. He flung open the door, angrily. He then scooped me tip as though I might weigh nothing and threw me over his shoulder. I was then, as a capture and a slave, carried helplessly over the threshold. Within he put me on the floor, on the tiles, near the foot of the couch, near the slave ring. He then closed and locked the door behind us. He then came and stood near me, looming over me, looking down at me.
This morning, early, had been sent stark naked, even collarless, to the courtyard, that I might bid farewell to my friends of Feast Slaves, who were now leaving for Ar. I had spoken with
them, and kissed them, shedding tears. My favorites among them were Claudia, Crystal and Tupa, with whom I had been close friends. I watched them all, one by one, naked, ankle-chained,
then climbing into the wagon, threading their chains about the opened central bar, then taking their places. Many times had I, too, similarly secured, en route to various destinations, usually in
the city of Ar itself, been similarly secured and transported.
"You are naked," observed the voice.
"Yes, Master," I said. The voice was that of Drusus Rencius.
I had not been given permission to turn, "Where is your collar?" he asked.
"I do not know, Master," 1 said. "It was removed from me this morning."
"Why?" he asked.
"I do not know, Master," I said. "I suppose it is to be changed."
"That is true," said the voice.
"Master?" I asked.
"You are going to be put in a new collar," he said.
"Master?" I asked.
"I have it here," he said.
"You, Master?" I inquired.
He stepped about, in front of me. He showed me an opened collar, graceful and slim, and of inflexible steel.
"Read it," he said, indicating the legend which, in small, graceful
letters, was incised in the metal.
"I cannot read, Master," I said. "I have never been taught."
"Oh, splendid," he said, irritably. "An illiterate slave!"
"Some men think they are the best kind," I said, not a little irritated myself. I was not illiterate in English, of course, only in Gorean. I had not been taught to read in Corcyrus, probably in order to better keep the politics of the city from me, and in order to guard against my better understanding my position there. Many Gorean slaves, of course, are illiterate, and deliberately
kept so. In that fashion, for example, she may be used to carry messages about, even having to do with herself. The common way in which a girl carries a Gorean message is on foot, with her
hand braceleted behind her. The message is then inserted in a capped leather tube tied about her neck. Given the braceleting, of course, even a literate girl may be used to carry messages in this fashion, which may or may not have to do with herself. Some men
feel that if a woman is taught to read and write, particularly after she has been~made a slave, she may come to think that she is important. This delusion, of course, may be swiftly removed from
her by the whip. For what it is worth, literacy commonly increases the value of a slave. It may usually be depended upon to add a few copper tarsks to her value
"You seem bitter," said Drusus Rencius.
"Yes," I said.
"Why?" he asked.
"My own master has not even seen fit to chang~ my collar," I said.
"I see," he said.
"What collar is it," I asked, "the collar of a scullery maid, of a kitchen slave?" I had not realized I had been so displeasing last night.
"Neither," said Drusus Rencius, "or, perhaps, in a sense, both, and that of other slaveries, as well."
"I do not understand," I said.
"What is so hard to understand?" he asked.
"You have been empowered by Miles of Argentum to change my collar, have you not?" I asked.
"No," he said.
I touched the eollar, fearfully. "I do not understand," I iwhispered. I feared for Drusus Rencius. I feared he had committed a crime.
"I do not need that power," he said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because it is my collar," he said.
"Yours!" I cried. I almost turned about.
"Yes," he said. "I bought you last night."
I fainted.
 lay now naked, save for my collar, on the tiles of the quarters of Drusus Rencius, in the palace at Argentum.
1 had apparently not long been permitted the luxury of unconsciousness in the courtyard. I had awakened, held in a sitting position, my face, stinging, seeming to explode, being jerked, by
blows, first with the flat of a hand, and then with its back, from side to side. Gorean men are not always indulgent with their female slaves. I scrambled to my knees and looked up at my master, Drusus Rencius, of Ar. "To my quarters, and swiftly, Slave," he snarled.
"Yes, Master!" I had cried, joyfully.
I had then preceded him to his quarters, moving swiftly, but scarcely swiftly enough, it seemed,
from the point of view of Drusus Rencius, striding fiercely behind me, like some impatient, grumbling giant. It seemed
he could not wait to get me alone. Many times was I hurried, pushed and thrust from be-hind. I was even twice kicked. It was not my fault that I was a woman, and that my legs were shorter
than his! Then, at his portal, I had been ordered to my belly. I had then been bound, hand and foot. I had then been carried into the room, over his shoulder, as a slave, helpless. He had put me
down on the tiles, near the foot of his couch, near the slave ring. He had locked the door. He was now standing near me, looking downn at me. I pulled, futilely, at the ropes on my wrists and
ankles. I was bound, perfectly. The door was locked. I was a slave girl alone with her master. I
was utterly helpless.
He stepped back a bit. His face was unreadable.
"Whip me!" I begged. "I love you! Teach me that you own me!"
He took a step, further back.
"I beg the lash, Master," I said. My heart was filled with joy and love.
His face was expressionless. He did not speak.
"Let me kneel before you," I said, "and beg to be beaten with a slave whip."
He did nnot speak.
"Whip me!" I begged. "I love you! I love you!"
"Slave," he sneered.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Natural slave," he said, angrily.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"1 did not know you were a natural slave," be said.
"You knew it before you bought me," I said. "You knew it from last night."
"Yes," he said.
"But still you bought me!" I said.
"Yes," he said.
"I love you!" I said.
"You are a natural slave," he said. "Your love is Worthless."
"It is, at any rate, real," I assured him.
"I wonder," he said.
"You paid for it," I said. "You must have wanted it."
"Perhaps," he said "Master?" I asked.
"Perhaps I have purchased you not for your love, but for your hate," he said.
"I do not understand," I said.
"You have caused me much grief and pain," he said, "particularly when you were a free woman, in Corcyrus."
"I am sorry, Master," I said.
''And well you might be,'' he said, ''as you are now my slave."
"I am sorry anyway," I said.
"Perhaps it is my intention to humiliate you, to debase~ and degrade you, to abuse you, to teach you, at my hands, fear, misery and pain!"
"You may do with me as you please," I smiled. "I am your slave."
"I wonder how you will like it," he mused, "in your~ollar, hating me, but utterly helpless, knowing that you must obey me, absolutely, and serve me, in all things, with total perfection."
"I do not hate you," I laughed. "And you need not concern yourself with obedience and service. As I am a slave, you may depend upon them. Too, I shall render them to you eagerly, not only from the meaning of my collar but from the bottom of my heart."
"Perhaps I should debase and degrade you," he said.
'The more you debase and degrade me, Master," I 'said, "the more I shall love you."
"How you tortured me in Corcyrus!" he said, angrily, looking down at me.
"I was cruel and petty," I said.
"Much misery did you cause me," he said, angrily.
"I am sorry," I smiled. I was not completely displeased, of course, to learn of his discomfort.
"You are not truly sorry, are you?" he asked, a smile about his lips.
"Not really," I admitted, shrugging in the ropes.
"Why?" he asked.
"I am a woman," I said.
"Women enjoy taunting men, and tormenting them with desire," he said.
"Some women, sometimes," I said.
"You, then," he said.
"Yes," I said, angrily, rising to my elbows, "I, then!"
"I thought so," he said.
'It is a flattering tribute to a woman's power," I said, "her capacity to arouse desire!"
"Doubtless," he said, bitterly.
"I only wish I had known how important I was to you at the' time," I said. "That would have made the matter much more amusing!"
"I see," he said.
"i am glad to learn, even now,' I said, "how much I had disturbed you. Thank you for confessing it to me!"
"You're welcome," he said, quietly, perhaps too quietly. "I'm glad I made you miserable!" I said,
angrily. "I'm glad I made you sweat and squirm, when you could not have me!" I was glad, too!
In Corcyrus he, though desperately attracted to nie, I think, had resisted my advances. This had caused me great frustration. I had, as a consequence of this spurning of me; taken a woman's
vengeance upon him. I had, in a thousand ways, in glances, in small words, in smiles, in tiny gesture's, in movements, in seemingly careless proximities, seeming inadvertences, tormented
him. I had seen to it, man'y times, that passions would flash and flame in Drusus Rencius, which I would then, haughtily, refuse to satisfy.
'But those days are gone, aren't they?" said Drusus Renlay back on the tiles. "Yes, Master," I said. I swallowed hard. I was very conscious, then, of my nudity, and of the tight binding on my wrists and ankles, making me absolutely helpless.
"Things are different now, aren't they?" he asked. "Yes, Master,' I said. I was now a slave. The least discontentment a girl causes her master can be taken out of her hide. I was now at his
disposal, completely. I must now ready myself for him, and please him fully, at as litfie as a glance or a snapping of fingers.
"Get on your knees," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I struggled to my knees. It was not easy, bound as I was. He did not help me. I then knelt before him. He stood then, his arms folded, some feet from me, across the tiles.
"You look well on your knees, bound as a slave," he said. "Thank you, Master," I said. I recalled
Corcyrus, where I had been to him as a Tatrix. I was now bound naked before him, as a slave.
"There are vengeances to be taken upon you," he said.
"Do with me as you will,". I said. "I am yours."
"I will," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"How I despise you!" he said.
'Yes, Master," I said.
"You are utterly beautiful," he said "Thank you, Master," I said.
"Are you afraid?" he asked.
"Yes,'1 I said.
"You do not seem truty afraid," he said.
"I do not think you are the sort of man who buys woman to hurt her," I said.
"You cannot know that," he said.
"I suppose not," I said. Consider the matter of marriag Most women, prior to their marriage, do not truly know tI man they are marrying. They will come to know him, trul only in living with
him, his. It is natural, then, that a wom~ should enter into such a relation with a certain amount trepidation. How much more so, then, must this be the ca with the female slave, whose new
master, one who will have total power over her, is likely to be a total stranger, a fello whom she has probably never even seen before her sale. Is I going to enfold her lovingly in his arms, and
master her, ar cherish her as a treasure, or is he going to feed her to sleet She does not know. You strive desperately to please him.You are his. You hope for the best.
"You do not seem convinced," he said.
"I am not," I smiled.
"Perhaps suitable lashings would convince you," he said.
"Perhaps," I smiled.
"Do you think you are never to be whipped?" he asked.
"No, Master," I said. "I know that I am a slave. I know that I am subject to the whip."
He unfolded his arms and looked at me, with fury. "Ho utterly, utterly beautiful you are," he said, "and how provoctive, and delicious!"
"And I am yours, and you may do with me as you please." I said.
'How you infuriate me!" he cried, suddenly, his fist clenched. He turned away. I was silent. I squirmed a little the ropes. They held me well.
He stood by the window in his quarters. "I remember Cos," he said, bitterly. He put the palms of his hands on the sides of the window, looking out.
"I, too, remember Corcyrus," I said, happily.
"Slut," he snarled.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"There are vengeances to be taken upon you, he said, angrily.
"You are certainly entitled to them, "
Yes, Master," I said, smiling. I loved Drusus Rencius.
He looked about at me, angrily.
"Let us put our heads together," I suggested. "Perhaps, then, we can plan certain appropriate exactions, ministrations wherewith that arrogant slut, Sheila, may be well punished for her stupidities."
"You seek to divert my wrath," he said.
"Perhaps," I smiled.
He leaned back, wearily, against the wall, by the window, looking at me.
"Surely a girl cannot be blamed for hoping to do that," I said.
"I suppose not," he smiled.
"Oh," I said, "I forgot! I am no longer Sheila, am I? My collar has been changedi" I looked at
Drusus Rencius. "I do not have a name now, do I?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Is master going to name me?" I asked.
"I will, if it pleases me," he said. "I will not, if it does not please me."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"I am a fool," he said.
"I shall maintain a judicious silence," I said. "If I agree I Would seem to proclaim my master a fool. If I disagree, I should, at the very least, contradict him." "I am a fool!" he said, miserably.
'I do not think so," I said, "but, of course, I am only a slave, and I could conceivably be mistaken."
"I should sell you," he said.
"You may do with me as you wish," I said. I had no fear, however, that he would sell me. It was not for such a purpose, I was confident, that he had bought me.
"You do not fear me, truly, do you?" he asked.
"Not, ultimately," I said.
"Why?" he asked
"Must I speak?" I asked.
"No," he said, angrily. "You need not speak."
He turned wearily, angrily, away.
"Master?" I asked.
He turned again to face me. "You are a beautiful, complex woman," he said.
"I am a simple slave," I said, "a man's toy, a bauble for his pleasure."
"Simple or complex, you are a slave," he said. "There is no doubt about that."
"Your slave," I reminded him.
"Why did I buy you?" he asked.
"I can think of several reasons," I said.
"Do you mock me?" he asked.
"I tease you," I said. "I do not mock you."
"I care for you," he said, suddenly, bitterly.
"I know," I said.
"And you only a slave!"
"Yes, Master," I said.
"What a fool I am!" he cried.
I was silent.
"You did it to me," he said.
"I?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, "you, with your intelligence, your beauty,your vulnerability, your sensuousness, your glances and movements, your bondage skills, your insidious slave wiles, the perfections of your servitude, made it impossible not to desire you, not to lust for you, inordinately, not to want you, not to demand you, to the point of madness, for my very own!"
I was silent, bound before him. There was some truth' of course, or at least I thought so, to these charges. At least I hoped there was. I had tried, with all the skills I had been taught, and with all
the devices, and instincts, of the natural slave, which I was, to attract and lure him. The outcome of such a campaign, of course, if successful, is that the girl becomes the man's slave. She is then,
of course, subject to whatever vengeances he might be pleased to take upon her.
I squirmed in the ropes. I belonged to him. I began to sweat. For the first time I felt genuine fear.
"You wrapped me about your finger," he said. "You manipulated me!"
"Forgive me, Master," I said.
"Gloat in your power, Slave!" he said.
"Forgive me, Master," I whispered.
"Even last night," he said, "in your writhing on the steps, you made me wild for you. You made me want to tear off your silk and hurl you beneath me, then to have you, uncompromisingly, like
the luscious slut and slave you are!"
"Yes, Master," I whispered.
"I saw your body jerk in the hands of the soldier!" he said, accusingly.
"I cannot  help what I am!" I cried, looking up at him, angrily, tears in my eyes.
"You are a slave!" he cried.
"Yes!" I cried. "And had you been there you could, later, have seen my body jerk in the hands of Miles of Argentum. That night he made me, three times, serve him well, and the third time,
writhing, I cried myself his, a submitted slave. In the morning I kissed his feet in gratitude!"
"Slave, slave!" snarled Drusus Rencius.
"And do you not make women respond like that," I said, "the. girls in the taverns, the girls on their mats, the girls thrown to your feet, for your sport, at the house of a friend?"
"Yes," he said, angrily. "I make them grovel and scream!"
"And why, then," I asked, "should you object if other men make me respond in the same way?"
He regarded me, with fury.
"Am I different?" I asked. "Apparently not," he said. "I am not!" I said.
"They are slaves," he said. "So, too, am I!"
"I had hoped you might be more," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"A free woman," he said.
"I have been a free woman," I said. "Do not laud them to me!"
"Do you speak ill of free women?" he asked.
"No," I said, "for I do not wish to be whipped!"
He glared at me.
"Look at me." I said. "I am naked and bound before you! Would you really prefer that I was a free woman?"
"No," he said, and my blood almost froze in my veins.
"You see?" I whispered.
"Yes," he said, angrily.
"I am a thousand times more than a free woman," I said "both to a man and, in my heart and emotions, to myself."
"How is that?" he asked.
"I am a slave," he said, simply.
He looked down, sullenly.
"You take free women into companionship," I said, "bu you dream of slaves. You even dream of the free woman as slave. I doubt that any glandularly sufficient rhale does no want us as slaves.
If he doesn't, then I think he must be ver' short on imagination. What do you think is the meaning of your size and strength, your energy and agility, your domi nance? Do you think it is
all some alarming, inexplicable, sta tistical eccentricity? Can you not see the order of nature? Is it so difficult to disclose? why do y6u think men make u slaves, and put us in collars? It is because
they want us a slaves. And why do you think we make such superb slaves Because we are born slaves."
"if I take my place in the order of nature," he said, "ther obviously, you will be put in yours."
I pulled at the ropes. "I think I am already there, Master," Isaid.
He looked up at me.
"I am on my step," I said. "It is now only necessary th~ you ascend to yours."
"You do not even have a name," he said.
"Perhaps Master will, if it pleases him, give me a name."
"Perhaps I should name you," he said. "Doubtless yoi might he conveniently ordered about and
referred to, if yo' were named."
"Yes, Master," I said. The name would be a slave name, C course. Such names, like collars, 'are
worn whether the slav wishes them or not. Some masters think of such names ~ being along the
lines of verbal leashes, the utterance of tb name, like the sudden tug of a leash, immediately
calling til slave's attention to the master and his wishes. In any even the slave name, and the
knowledge that it is a slave nami deeply, and appropriately, informs the consciousness of t~
slave. Too, of course, it is the only name she has.
He turned away from me.
"You still hesitate to accept me as, what I am, a total slav don't you?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he growled.
"If you wish," I said, "relate to me as to a despised slut
bondage. You will discover that I will respond well to you m     r that role."
He spun about. "Do you think that you are not despised? he asked.
"Master?" I asked.
"I do despise you," he said, angrily, "for Corcyrus, for your meaninglessness, for your pettiness and cruelty, for what you are, and for what you have done to me I"
I shrank back in the bonds.
"And you are maddeningly beautiful," he said. "You are excruciatingly desirable!"
I was silent.
"I am a   free man!" he cried. "I am of the warriors!
"Do you want me to pretend to be a free woman?" I asked. "I can do that. I did it for years. At times I even be lieved it. I can do it again! Command me, if you wish, to the pretense!"
"You are a slave," he said. "It is all you are. Do not mock me."
"Forgive me, Master," I said.
"Day in and day out, night in and night out, I fought my feelings for you," he said. "I immersed myself in duties. I adopted strenuous activities. I sought solace even in the taverns, and in the
arms of others. I chided myself for my foolishness. I berated myself for my stupidity! I castigated myself for my madness! But I could not drive you from my mind! Ever more hotly burned the
flames of my passion! And you are not even free!"
"No," I said, suddenly, angrily. "I am not even free!"
"A slave!" he said.
"Yes!" I said. "A slave!"
"Gloat, Slave," said he, "for you, with your wiles, and your insidious beauty, have brought a soldier, and a free man, low."
"Punish me," I said. "You own me."
"Do not fear," he said. "You will be punished, for CorCyrus, and for your insolence."
"Lying slut!" he hissed. He then, with the side of his foot, kicked me. I recoiled, crying out. I would doubtless, for several days, bear a fine bruise there, evidence of his displeasure. I turned to my side. I put down my head. I kissed the foot that had kicked me. Then I returned to my former position.He turned away from me and went to the other chair in the room, a curule chair, with ornate,
curved arms. I, my head turned to the side, watched him. He sat down in the chair, his hands on the arms, and regarded me.
"Should you not be on your knees, Slut?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said. I struggled to my knees and knelt, facing him.
He regarded me. He seemed weary.
"And thus it is," he said, "that slaves conquer warriors."
"It is I who am conquered, Master," I told him, "not you."
''You make me weak,'' he said, wearily.
"Unbind me," I suggested, smiling, "and I will make you strong."
"She-sleen," he smiled.
"Yes, Master," I said.
He looked to one side of the room, moodily, lost in thought. "'How strange has been the course of events," he said. "I took you for a Tatrix, and my enemy. Then, as it pleased you, in the fullness of ferniume cruelty, when I could not have you, when you thought me a mere guard, you amused yourself with me, taunting me with your beauty, torturing me with desire. Now, months later, you have come into my power, as my naked slave."
He turned his head slowly towards me. Then he regarded me, slowly, fully, every bit of me.
"Are you well roped?" be asked.
"I am roped perfectly, and am absolutely helpless," I said. "It was done to me by Drusus Rencius, of Ar, my master."
"It is a suitable answer," he said.
I was silent.
"Perhaps I will keep you," he said.
"Do, please;" I said. I loved him.
"If I keep you," be said, "you will be kept as a slave. Do you understand what that means, my dear?"
"Yes, Master," I said. I would be kept in the absolute perfections of Gorean slave discipline. I would have to be perfect for him, in all ways. I shuddered.
"Do you believe it?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"That is well," he said, "for it is true." "Yes, Master," I whispered.
"You seem to be afraid," he said. "I am," I said.
"But you were not before," he said. "No," I said.
"But you are now?"
"Yes," I said.
Now I sense, as I did not before, that you are strong enough to control me, and to punish me, terribly, if I do wrong, or am not fully pleasing."
"Believe it," he said, quietly.
"I do!" I said.
-"I wonder if you will make a good slave," he-said. "I will try my best, Master," I said.
Then he continued to look at me, appraising me. I straightened my body.
How inarvelous it must be for a man, I thought, to have such absolute power over a woman, to have her so subjected to him, even to having her in the perfection of his bonds. And how
marvelous it was for me, too, to know myse!f so much his, to know  myself, will-lessly, eagerly, at his pleasure. And what woman does not want a man a thousand times more than she, one to whom she must submit, one whom she must fear, one whom she must love?
I looked at him.
"It is different from Corcyrus, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
He looked away, again, again seemingly lost in thought.
"May I speak?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Is it truly so tragic, to care for a slave, just a little?" I asked.
"You have done enough," he said. "Do not seek further to make a fool of me."
I was silent.
He put his head down, in his hands.
How painful, complex and subtle can be the relationships between human beings. I tried to understand how he must view me. He saw me, it seemed, as one who, if she were free, "I am a thousand times more than a free woman," I said "both to a man and, in my heart and emotions, to myself."
    "How is that?" he asked.
    "I am a slave," he said,' simply.
    He looked down, sullenly.
    "You take free women into companionship," I said, "bu you dream of slaves. You even drea of the free woman as slave. I doubt that any glandularly sufficient rhale does no want us as slaves. If he doesn't, then I think he must be ver' short on imagination. What do you think the meaning 0 your size and strength, your energy and agility, your domi nance? Do you thinkit is all some alarming, inexplicable, sta tistical eccentricity? Can you not see the order ofnature? I it so difficult to disclose? why do y6u think men make u slaves, and put us in collars? It is because they want us a slaves. And why do you think we make such superb slaves Because we are born slaves."
 "if I take my place in the order of nature," he said, "ther obviously, you will be put in yours."
    I pulled at the ropes. "I think I am already there, Master," Isaid.
    He looked up at me.
    "I am on my step," I said. "It is now only necessary you ascend to yours."
    "You do not even have a name," he said.
    "Perhaps Master will, if it pleases him, give me a name."
    "Perhaps I should name you," he said. "Doubtless yoi might he conveniently ordered about and
    referred to, if yo' were named."
    "Yes, Master," I said. The name would be a slave name,  ofcourse. Such names, like collars, are worn whether the slave wishes them or not. Some masters think of such names being
along the lines of verbal leashes, the utterance of tb name, like the sudden tug of a leash immediately calling til slave's attention to the master and his wishes. In any even the slave name, and the knowledge that it is a slave name deeply, and appropriately, informs the consciousness of the slave. Too, of course, it is the only name she has.
    He turned away from me.
    "You still hesitate to accept me as, what I am, a total slave don't you?" I asked.
    "Perhaps," he growled.
         "Even now," he said, "still, when you are helpless, in my ropes, I find you exquisitely
         desirable, exquisitely beautiful."
         "Thank you, Master," I whispered.
         "You ruin me," he said. "You tear me apart!" I put down my head, frightened.
         "You make me a slave!" he cried. 4'It is I who am the slave," I said. "I hate' you!" he
         cried.
         "I do not. think so," I said.
         "As Sheila, who was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus, was to Ligurious, so, too, are you to
         me!" he said.
         "No!" I said. "There is a great difference!"
         "What?" he demanded.
         "I love you 1" I said.
         "Sly, clever slave!" he sneered.
         ."I do love you!" I cried.
         "Cunning, insidious slut," he said. "You fear for your own hide! You know that you
         are now, at least, within my power. You fear that it will be done to you as you deserve,
         that you
  A    ~ill be thrown to sleen!" ~14      "No!" I wept..
         "Sweat and squirm now, luscious slut," he said. "Cry out your love for me. Perhaps I
         will be moved to be merciful, and keep you as the lowest and most worthless slave on
         Gor!"
         "I do love you!" I wept.
         "Lying slave!" he cried. He leapt across the room, and, with the flat of his hand,
         savagely, struck me from my knees. My right shoulder struck the tiles. I tasted blood
         in my mouth. I lay there, bound, frightened. It had been only a slap, but I felt as though
         my head might have been almost taken from me. I was awe-stricken. I had not realized
         how strong he' was. What if he had truly struck me? I knew I must obey him with
         perfection.
         "On your back," be said, "knees raised, heels on the floor." I then lay before him, in a
         standard, supine capture position.
         "You look well at my feet, Slut," he said.
         "Thank you, Master," I said.
         "Have you reconsidered the telllilg of truth?" he asked.
         "I love you," I whispered.
    "Lying slut!" he hissed. He then, with the side of his foot, kicked me. I recoiled, crying out. I
    would doubtless, for several days, bear a fine bruise there, evidence of his displeasure.
    I turned to my side. I put down my head. I kissed the foot that had kicked me. Then I returned
    to my former position.
    He turned away from me and went to the other chair in the room, a curule chair, with ornate,
    curved arms. I, my head turned to the side, watched him. He sat down in the chair, his hands
    on the arms, and regarded me.
    "Should you not be on your knees, Slut?" he asked.
    "Yes, Master," I said. I struggled to my knees and knelt, facing him.
    He regarded me. He seemed weary.
    "And thus it is," he said, "that slaves conquer warriors."
    "It is I who am conquered, Master," I told him, "not you."
    ''You make me weak,'' he said, wearily.
    "Unbind me," I suggested, smiling, "and I will make you strong."
    "She-sleen," he smiled.
    "Yes, Master," I said.
    He looked to one side of the room, moodily, lost in thought. "'How strange has been the course
    of events," he said. "I took you for a Tatrix, and my enemy. Then, as it pleased you, in the
    fullness of ferniume cruelty, when I could not have you, when you thought me a mere guard,
    you amused yourself with me, taunting me with your beauty, tor~ turing me with desire. Now,
    months later, you have come into my power, as my naked slave."
    He turned his head slowly towards me. Then he regarded me, slowly, fully, every bit of me.
    "Are you well roped?" be asked.
    "I am roped perfectly, and am absolutely helpless," I said. "It was done to me by Drusus
    Rencius, of Ar, my master."
    "It is a suitable answer," he said.
    I was silent.
    "Perhaps I will keep you," he said.
    "Do, please;" I said. I loved him.
    "If I keep you," be said, "you will be kept as a slave. Do you understand what that means, my
    dear?"
    "Yes, Master," I said. I would be kept in the absolute perfections of Gorean slave discipline. I
    would have to be perfect for him, in all ways. I shuddered.
         424           John Norman

        "Do yoij helieve it?" he asked.
        "Yes, Master," I said.
        "That is well," he said, "for it is true." "Yes, Master," I whispered.
        "You seem to be afraid," he said. "I am," I said.
        "But you were not before," he said. "No," I said.
        "But you are now?"
        "Yes," I said.

        ~      ~ow I sense, as I did not before, that you are
      strong enough to control me, and to punish me, terribly, if I do wrong, or am not fully
      pleasing."
        "Beheve it," he said, quietly.
        "I do!" I said.
        -"I wonder if you will make a good slave," he-said. "I will try my best, Master," I said.
        Then he continued to look at me, appraising me. I straightened my body.
        How inarvelous it must be for a man, I thought, to have such absolute power over a
        woman, to have her so subjected to him, even to having her in the perfection of his
        bonds. And how marvelous it was for me, too, to know myse!f so much his, to know
        myself, will-lessly, eagerly, at his pleasure. And what woman does not want a man a
        thousand times more than she, one to whom she must submit, one whom she must fear,
        one whom she must love?
        I looked at him.
        "It is different from Corcyrus, isn't it?" he asked.
        "Yes, Master," I said.
        3   He looked away, again, again seemingly lost in thought.
        "May I speak?" I asked.
        "Yes," he said.
        "Is it truly so tragic, to care for a slave, just a little?" I asked.
        "You have done enough," he said. "Do not seek further to make a fool of me."
        I was silent.
        He put his head down, in his hands.
        How painful, complex and subtle can be the relationships between human beings. I tried
        to understand how he must

      view me. He saw me, it seemed, as one who, if she were free,
                 KAIJRA OF GOR               425

  and immune from punishment, and held power, would torment and scorn him, exploiting him,
  despising him, amusing herself with him. As far as I knew I had done little to provoke these
  feelings, at least until he had refused my advances. I had given him reason, to be sure, in
  Corcyrus, to believe me contemptible and petty. I had made certain Earth values, to his irritation,
  clear to him, such as an amoral expediency and a mockery of honor. My smallness, my
  contemptibility, I had unwittingly flaunted before him, regarding such things, at that time as signs
  of my depth and cleverness. Too, he seemed to find me, in some way, and I did not fully
  understand it, maddeningly desirable. This had to do, it seemed, with some unusual and subtle
  relationship between us. These things, doubtless in part because of his pride and self-image', his
  reluctance to accept tenderness, his fear of feeling and sentiment, his lofty conceptions of the
  attitudes and behaviors proper to his caste, had driven him half mad with frustration. Yet, too, he
  had, with Menicius, risked his life in the camp of Miles to free me, and he had sought desperately
  to protect and defend me in the inquiry with Claudius and the high council. It was clear, I think, he
  cared for me deeply.' In all this, of course, he regarded me as little more than a curvaceous,
  scheming slave, one who did 'not care for him, but one who, to protect herself, would do anything,
  even pretend falsely to love. He did not know I truly loved him.
    I resolved upon a bold plan. I would attempt to get him to cure himself of the false Sheila, that
    the way might then be open for a poor, nameless slave who so much loved him.
    "Free me," I said, angrily, pulling at the ropes.    A He looked at
    me.
    "Free you' rsel,f," he said.
    "I cannot!" I said.
    "Why do you wish to be freed?" he asked.      A "1 do not love
    you!" l said.
    "Now, at last, you speak the truth," he said.
    "Not only do I not love you," I cried, "but I hate you! I despise you! I hold you in contempt as
    a ~iteous weakling! I always have!"
    He smiled.
    "I am tired of trying to fool you," I said. "Now, free me!"
    "Why should I free you?" he asked.
    "Because I am a free woman!" I said.
                         John Norman
       ~    426

         "That is ~not true," he said. "I saw you' jerk in the' hands of
           the 'soldier."
         "I could not help myself," I said.
         "Only a natural slave could not have helped herself," he said.
         "I do not want to belong to, you," I said.
         "I have an alternative in mind," he said. "I think I shall
           give you to the department of the mines. There, naked and yoked, you shall carry water."
         "No 1" I cried.
         "Do yo~ beg to be kept in my collar?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I whispered.
         "Then we shall let it stand at that, shan't we?"~he asked. "Yes, Master," I said. I had
         not counted on,'the possibility
       of being sent to the mines.
         I knelt back in the ropes. I looked at Dri~su's Rencius. He '1     was quite capable, I
         realized, suddenly, of sending me to the 1~    mines. I did not want that to happen.
         Too, 'lo'oking at him
       then, I saw him suddenly not only as a man I lov'ed but, also, independently, as a strong
       and powerful master. I found,
       then, that I had squirmed in the ropes, inadvertently, reflex'ively, my thighs moving. I
       hoped that he had not noticed.
         "What is wrong?" he asked.
         "Nothing!" I said. I felt the heat of the slave in me. I hoped he could not detect the
         signs in my body~ I hoped he could not smell me.
         He was silent.
         "May I sp~ak?" I asked.
         "Yes," he said.
         "I gather," I said, "that, you intend to keep me."
         "At least for a time," he said.
         "I presume," I said, "that at least one of the purposes for Which you purchased me was
         to make use of me."
         "Perhaps," he said.
         "I am ready," I said. "Begin my ~slavery."
         He regarded me, not speaking.
         "You see me in a collar," I said, angrily. "You know what a collar does to a woman!"
         Hesmiled.
         "I have been owned," I said. "I have had masters. They have made me this way!"
         "So men do have their vengeance," he said. "The scheming beauty is needful."
                 KAJJRA OF GOR               427

    "Yes!" I said. "Speak clearly," he said. "I am needful," I said.
    6'You are more than needful," he said.
    "You may or may not believe I love you," I said, "but about my arousal, my need, there is no
    disputing."
    "That is true," he said. "You are obviously, now, a needful slave."
    "Please," I begged.
    He left the chair and, crouching beside me, not hurrying, freed me of the ropes.
    "Touch neither me nor yourself," he said.
    "Yes, Master," I moaned. My body was flaming with

    He regarded me for a few moments. I moaned.
    Then, for a brief moment, he took me in his arms. His hand was upon me, intimately. "I love
    you! I love you! I love yQul" I cried, jerking in his hands, pressing against him, trying ~o cover
    him with kisses.
    ."Stop," he said. "To your belly."
    Then I was on my belly, on the tiles, my hands at the sides of my head, prone, before his
    curule chair. He resumed his seat.
    I lifted my head and upper body, wildly, agonized, to regard him.
    "You are a hot slave," he said.
    I regarded him wildly, pathetically, unbelievingly, speechlessly.
    4'Do you beg a man's touch?" he asked.

    "Yes," I said, "yes!"
    "Then beg," he said.
    "I beg your touch," I wept. "I beg your touch! Please touch me, Master! I beg it!"
    "Truly?" he asked.
    "Yes," I said. "I beg your touch, truly, Master! I beg it, truly! Please, touch me, Master! Please!
    Please!"
    "No," he said.
    I collapsed then to the tiles, sobbing, helpless, quivering with need.
    "And thus," said he, "may a hated slave be denied."
    I then became aware that he had left his chair, that he was
  standing near me.                               '~
                 KA'JZRA OF GOR              429

  to do go, do little to assuage the almost intolerable 'passions he had aroused in me. I looked at
  him, piteously. He laughed, and left. Then I was kneeling there, bewildered, alone, chained. I was
  a slave I must await his return. He did not, of course, tell me where he was going or when he
  would be back.

    "You understand, do you not," he asked, "that this is a symbolic re-enactment and that it in no
    way compromises your slavery?"
    "Yes, Master," I said.
    "For example," he said, "for your treatment of me in CorCyrus, and for various insolences, and
    lapses, you must still answer to me, and to my whip."
    "Yes, Master," I said.
    "You are now dressed, are you not," he asked, "fully in the garments of the Tatrix, even to the
    nature, the subtlety and delicacy of the undergarments?"
    "Yes," I said.
    "And beneath those," he said, "in the eccentric undergar ments of Earth, in garments similar to
    those which you, a barbarian, doubtless once wore there?"            
    "Yes," I said. These undergarments had once' belonged to Sheila. They had been, brought to
    Argentum by Menicius, for the inquiry. I supposed that now, technically, they might be tho
    property of the state of Argentum, I, at any rate, did not own them. I could own nothing.
    Rather it was I who was owned. Fortunately, Sheila and I were almost identically figured..
    "Turn, Tatrix," said Drusus Rencius.
    Iturned, obediently, before him. He sat in the eurule chair, acro'ss, the room. I ~ad been given
    the slave name, "Tatrix." I had been given no choice in the matter, and I must respond to it,
    perfectly.
    "Good," he said. "Now walk back and forth, slowly."
      Ididso.
    Many of the garments I wore had been those which I my-self had worn, when I had been
    playing the role of the Ta trix. This pleased Drusus Rencius. He remembered me in them.
    "Good," he said. "You may now stop."
    I stood then again before him, facing him.
    "Turn again," he said.
         430           John Norman

       Jdidsb.
       "Good," he said.'
       I wore no bond. He had even remoyed from me his collar. ~It hung now on the arm of the
       curule chair. There was no doubt, however, that I was a slave, or whose slave. I was. I was
       branded, and I was paid for.
       "You will now strip yourself naked, slowly," he said. "I in-tend to enjoy this."
       I' reached to the pins, at the side of the veil. One by one, I removed them. I then put the
       veil with its pins, to one side. I then, with both hands, putting back my head, brushed back
       the hood of the 'robes. I shook my head and arranged my hair. I then faced Drusus
       Rencius, face-stripped.
       "Continue," he said.'
       One by one I removed' the garments of the Tatrix. Then I '~   stood before him clad ~only
       in undergarments of Earth, in a
      brassiere and panties.
       Drusus Rencius nodded.
       IIremoved the brassiere, and straightened my body.
  "Excellent," he said.
       I faced him.
       "Now remove the last veil," he said.
       I bent down and, in a moment, stepped from the panties. I then, again, straightened myself
       before him. I hoped he liked what he saw. He owned it.
       "Superb," he said. "Superbi"
       I smiled.
       His face grew hard. "Kneel," he said.
       Swiftly I knelt, in the position of the pleasure slave.
       I swallowed, hard. I saw that he had no intention of permitting my beauty, if beauty it
       was, which had at one time
      ~'    apparently been so tormenting to him, when it had been mac~cessible, diminish in any way
      the perfections of his mastery of me.
       He went to a chest at the side of the rodm, and drew forth a small, gray garment, which he
       threw to me. I caught it against my body. I shook it out, happily. "You kept it, Mas.~ter!"
       I laughed, delighted. It was the brief slave tunic, sleeve~:   less and gray, which I had
       worn in the house of Kliomenes, so '~'   long ago, in Corcyrus.
       "Yes," he said, "for when you were my true slave."
       "I love it!" I said. To some, I suppose, it would have seemed a scandalous rag, unseemly
       and degrading, but I
                 KAJJRA OF GOR               431

  found it very beautiful, not only because of the lovely and sensitive way in which it enhanced and
  displayed the beauty of the female figure but because of memories with which it was associated,
  memories which, for me, at least, were very precious.
    "Put it on," be said.
    Still kneeling, I drew it happily over my head. Then, slipped into it, I smoothed it down about
    my body.
    "You are so beautiful," he said. "Stand."
    I stood, and pulled it down more about my thighs. "It is rather short, though, isn't it?" I said.
    "It will be shorter," he said, drawing out a knife.
    "Master!" I protested, but he, with tbe knife, cutting and tearing, must have shortened it by at
    least two horts.
    I looked down, dismayed.
    "Later," he said, "sewing, smooth out the hem."
    "But if I take up the hem," I said, "it will be even short"Must a command be repeated?" he
    asked.
    "No, my master!" I said.
    He then stepped back, to regard me.'
    I pulled down at the sides of the garment. If it had been much shorter I feared my brand might
    have shown!
    "Stand straight," he said.
    I did so, my hands at my sideg.
    "A great improvement," he said. "Even though it is perhaps a bit long it is now, at least, within
    the normal ranges for slave lengths. Yes, I think it is now, even though a bit long, acceptable
    for a slave, even perhaps suitable for one. Before, of course, it was suitable, intentionally, only
    for a free woman pretending to be a slave."
    "Turn," 'he said.
    I did so.
    "Yes," he said, "I think it is now suitable, or will be, when you' have attended to the hem,
    shortening it still further."
    I knew that I must learn to go forth in such garments, the garments of slaves.
    I stole a furtive glance at a mirror. The garment, I saw, to my pleasure, set me off beautifully,
    though, to be sure, as what I was,~ a slave.
    "Do you like it?" he asked.
    "Yes!" 1 said..
    "You may now remove it," he said, "and kneel again, as you were before, before me."
    "Yes, Master," I said, He returned to the curule chair.
    I was then again before him as I had been, naked and kneeling.
    "You are aware, doubtless," be said, "that my feelings toward you are, or were, extremely
    complex."
    "Yes, Master," I said. "And if I may speak of sudi matters, in my opinion, you have tinderstood
    me very well in some things, and very little in others. Also, it seems you have sometimes
    wanted me to be, or expected me to be, things which I was not."
    "Do you understand what we are doing here?" be asked.
    "Yes," I said. It was now clear to me. He had seen me as' a Tatrix, he had seen me stripped, be
    had seen me again in tbe garment, subsequently shortened to slave length, which I bad worn in
    the house of Kijomenes and in the room in the inn of Lysias.
    "When we have completed this symbolic re-enactment," he said, "you, regardless of what you
    may or m~ not have been, will be, in my mind and in yours, my slave, in a modality which I
    find acceptable."
    "Yes, Master," I said. I was, of course, already. his slave, legally, totally, and in my heart. I
    suspected that he might now have come to sense this, but that he was not sure of it.
    Accordingly, he would take no chances with me. I would be put through processes of
    enslavement, and rites of submission, the, outcome of which, no matter what might be my
    nature, motivations or dispositions, would be to make clear to me my condition, that I was,
    whatever I was, scheming woman or loving female, his slave, and totally.
    "Three things will now be done to you, matter-of-factly, and in order," he said.
    I looked at him, puzzled.
    "Down on all fours," he said, "and crawl here, head down, to the foot of the chair."
    I did so and there, unceremoniously, he crouching down, behind me and to my left, I was
    collared. He was n9t gentle with me.
    "Kneel back on your heels," he said, "and extend your arms, wrists crossed."
    I looked at him, startled, protestingly, as my wrists, with one end of a long leather strap, were
    lashed together.
    "Stand up," he said. I was pulled to a position at the side of the room. The long end of tbe strap
    was tossed up, through a ring fixed in a beam, and then put through another ring. Drusus
    Rencius then drew on the strap and my bound wrists were drawn up, above my head. He then
    looped and knotted the long end of the strap about a hook, on the side. I then stood there, at the
    side of the room, naked, in the collar, my hands bound togeiher, held over my head. "Master,"
    I said, "this is not like you! Where is your concern for me?"
    "Were you given permission to speak?" he asked.
    "No, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master!" I looked up at my bound hands. The strap was
    dark on them. I jerked at it. I could not free myself. I was tied in place. My entire body,
    suddenly, felt very bare, very exposed, very vulnerable. I looked over my shoulder. I was
    frightened. This was clearly a whipping position.
    "Please, Master!" I whimpered.
    "Kiss the whip," he said.
    I did so, fearfully.
    I recalled that only an Ahn before I had begged his lash, in my joy at learning myself his. I had
    pleaded for the stroke of the whip that I might, in my joy and pain, in tears, reveling,
    experience his doininance over me, and know myself his. Now, however, this seemed very
    different' I had been put in place as though I might have been anyone, any slave! Did I mean so
    little to him? Was I so unimportant?
    Then behind me, before I was fully set for it, I heard the hiss of the five supple blades. I
    screamed, struck, sobbing! I knew he had not struck me with his full strength. I could tell that
    from the sound. Still my back seemed to burst into flame. The blades had seemed, too, to
    encircle me, scalding and tearing at me. "No more!" I begged. Then I was again struck.
    Had I stolen a pastry? Had I not cleaned my kennel well enough? Had I not pleased some
    master well enough in the furs?
    I was struck again.
    "Oh," I sobbed, in misery.
    Then twice more was I struck~ Drusus Renc~s did no~ much vary the locus of the impact nor
    the timing. He did not
When he freed my hands of the strap I sank to my knees on the tiles under the ring.' I was
      half in shock. I knew he had not struck me with his full strength and, indeed, I had been
      struck only five times. It had been little or nothing as beatings go. Had I truly stolen a
      pastry, or done something displeasing, I would doubfless have been much more seriously
      beaten. The beating had been little more than informative in nature, not even really
      admonitory. Still I had felt it keenly. I had now felt the Gorean slave whip. No woman who
      has felt it ever forgets it. If I had had any doubts about the wisdorn of being pleasing to
      masters these blows, few and light though they might have been, would have dispelled
      them. The beating had been little or nothing. Still, and I knew it, I had been under the whip.
        He gave me scarcely a moment to recover. Then, crawling, swiftly, crying out, half
        dragged, 1 was pulled by the hair to the center of the room.
        He knelt me there.
        "Put your head down, to the floor," he said. "Clasp your hands, firmly, behind the back
        of your neck."
        "Yes, Master," I moaned. He was then behind me. He put his hands, under my arms, on
        my breasts, sweetly and firmly. Then he moved his bands back, caressing my flanks. My
        head was down. My fingers were together, behind the back of my neck. I was in his
        coll~r. It was steel, I could not remove it. I belonged to him. My body hurt, from his
        whip, that of my master. My head hurt, from my hair, where I had been conducted, unceremoniously, to this location. "Please, Master," I sobbed. "Not like this! Not you, please!"
        "The slave is pretty," he remarked.
        "Oh!" I cried. "Oh!"
        "You have a lovely ass," he said.
        "Ohhh!" I said.
        "You may thank me," he said.
        "Thank you, Master!" I said. I tried not to move. It was difficult. "Please do not treat me
        like this. Please do not handle me like this!"
        "I will do with you as I please," he said:
          "Please do not make me yield like this, please! I love you!"
        "Yield or not, as it pleases you," he said, unconcernedly.
        Then 1 began to whimper and moan.
    "Do not move," he said.
    "Please," I begged.
    "You are a slave, aren't you?" he asked. 'And a natural one?"
    "Yes, Master," I said. "Yes, Master!"
    "Very well," he said, "you may move."
    "I beg to yield!" I sobbed.
    "Very well," he said.
    I then, a few moments later, lay on my belly on the tiles. I tried to feel resentment toward Drusus Rencius. I failed.
    I turned to my side and, the palms of my hands on the floor, regarded him. He was again sitting in the curule chair.
    "You are now ready to begin your slavery," he said. "Your name is 'Lita'."
    "Yes, Master," I said. I was now no longer "Tatrix." I was "Lita."  would respond well to this name. It had many memories for me. It almost turned me inside out with love for Drusus
    Reneius.
    "You may serve me wine, Lita," he said.
    "Yes, Master," I said.
    A few moments later I knelt, lovingly, at the side of the curtile chair. Reucius held the goblet of wine. I had even been permitted to drink from it, from the side opposite to that which had touched his lips.
    "I know that you may not believe this," I said, "and I do not wish to be struck for saying it, but I love you."
    "Now that you are my slave, and are in my collar," he said, "it doesn't matter, one way or the
    other, does it?"
    "I suppose not," I smiled. "But I do love you."
    "I thought you might," he said.
    "Why did you resist my advances in Corcyrus?" I asked.
    "You were not toying with me?" he asked.
    "No," I said.
    "There were many reasons," he said. "There was a discr~p ancy in our stations. I thought you a
    Tatrix. I was only a soldier. Too, deception was involved in my post. I was truly serving
    Argentum, and Ar, not Corcyrus. Too, though in a part of me I recognized the slave in you the
    first time I laid eyes on you, in another part of me, I supposed you actually, in spite of the
    evidence of my senses, to be a free woman.
  Thus, it was important, though it tortured me to do so under the circumstances, to accord you
  respect and dignity."
    "Rather would you have accorded me force and mastery," I smiled.
    "Yes," he said. "Too, do not forget that on a certain level, or in a certain part of me, I
    recognized that you were, rather clearly, a slave. How then could I admit to myself that I, a
    warrior of Ar, might have certain feelings toward one such as you, only a slave? Too, that I
    discerned your pettiness, your cruelty and shallowness, dissuaded me from honestly admitting
    my feelings to myself. I did not wish to regard myself as a fooL Further, of course, you,
    seemingly so haughty and mighty a Tatrix, treated me with injustice and scorn. It is little
    wonder I dreamed of you in my collar, in my chains, wider my whip~"
    "Does it still distress you that I am a slave?" I asked.
    "No," he said.
    "Even a natural slave?" I asked.
    "No," he said.
    "You lost a silver tarsk to Publius on the matter," I reniinded~him.
    "It was a~ bet which, in my heart, I hoped to lose,1' he said.
    I licked at his knee, slowly, lovingl~. Then I looked up at him.
    He put down the goblet on the tiles, to the right of the chair.
    He took my head between his hands, those large, strong hands.
    "You are a superb natural slave," he said.
    "Forgive me, Master," I said.
    "I do not object," he said.
    "Good," I said.
    "In fact, it pleases me," he said.
    "Good," I whispered.
    He held my head between his hands, like it was that of a dog.
    "Do some men care. for their slaves," I asked, "just a little?"
    "Some men care for them much more than a little," he said.
    "Even natural slaves?" I asked.
    "Those are the best sort," he said.
      "I am glad to hear it," I said.
     "In every woman," he said, "if one can but find it, I believe there is a natural slave."
     "I believe it is true, Master," I said.
     Then I felt myself drawn to his lips, and I was drawn half into the chair, and then he, holding
     my head, not releasing it, turned, and I felt myself moved backwards and to the side, to
    f  my knees, before the chair, and then he was crouching before me, and then I felt myself being
    lowered backwards to the floor. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you, my masteri"
      "Do I make you weak?" I asked. I Iay now on love furs, at the foot of his couch. He had put a chain on my neck.
      "No," he said.
      I leaned over, and kissed him, delicately, intimately.
     "Aiii!"he said.
     "I see that my master speaks the truth," I said.
     "She-sleen!" he said, and then, with a rattle of chain, threw me again beneath him.
     "I would be a hundred slaves to you," I whispered, "a thousand!"
     "You are," he whispered. "You are."
     "Doubtless master is tired now," I said, "and should rest. I will stop."
     "Not yet! Not yet!" he said.
     "Very well," I said.
     "Insatiable slut!" he growled. "Do you tilink I am made of iron?"
     "It seemed so," I said.
     "Desist," he said.
     "Yes, Master," I laughed. It was hard for me to keep my hands off Dnisus Rencius. He was so beautiful. I snuggled down beside him, my head at his hip. I kissed his hip. Then I lay there, quietly, beside him. "I am not disturbing you now, am I?" I asked.
     "No," he said.
     "Would you like to rest now?" I asked.
     "Yes," he said. His hand was in my hair.
"Would you like me to relax you?" I asked.
"Very well," he said.
I crawled to my knees.
In a few moments, he said, "Is that your idea, as how to relax a man?"
I laughed, and continued my work, lovingly.
"Obviously you have been trained," he said.
"I am not one of those women who thinks her part in making love is finished when she lies, down," I said.
"That is clear," he said. The slave, of course, is not permit-ted the ignorance, inertness and mediocrity of the free woman. She must serve marvelously and totally. Notliltig less is permitted her.
"I am a woman of many talents," I assured him.
"Doubtless," he said, half moaning.
"I have attended school," I informed him. "And I am a skilled feast slave. I am also skilled at weaving on a mill loom."
"Marvelous," he gasped.
"Shall I stop now?" I asked.
"Continue," he said.
"But I thought you wished to rest?" I said.
He looked at me, menacingly.
"I shall continue," I said. "I would certainly not wish for a command to have to be repeated. That would be a reflection on my discipline. Too, I have no wish to be beaten twice in one day."
"I wonder who is the master and who is the s!ave," he said.
"You are the master, and I am the slave," I said. "I am clear on that."
"Would you care to mount me?" he asked.
Eagerly I did so.
"Are you now Mistress?" he asked.
"Whatever Master wishes," I laughed. I sensed, suddenly, what might be the sensations of power and pleasure a woman -might experience, putting a male to her use, before she was restored to the order of nature, and her servitude. "Would you truly permit me this?" I asked.
"Of course," he said, "but, later, we will do it somewhat differently."
"Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.
Then, to my amazement and delight, grinding and tensing, Iwatching him closely, I transformed him into a squirming slave beneath me, and then, when it pleased me, took his yielding from him.
Later in the afternoon, when we had reste,d, and he had had food brought in, and we had
eaten, he put me again in such a place, but this time I must face his feet and my hands
were held behind me. In such a way, sometimes, a captured free wQman, stripped, is
placed backwards on a kaijia, her hands b~ound behind her. This is usually done only
when she is being led to slavery. In such a way, then, be used me. My slavery was again
well impressed upon me. This type of position, it might be mentioned, is also used by
Gorean masters with the woman facing forward, whete he can see her face, but with her
hands tied, say, before her or behind her, or at her collar, bound either with actual thongs
or, most cruelly1 "by his will," that form of "tie" in which a woman must keep her hands
in a given position, for example, holding them as if bound,. or, say, keeping them on her
hips or clasped behind the back of her neck. If she breaks such a position, of course, she is
subject. to terrible discipline. She must then, as he lies slothful' and' recumbent beneath
her, at his ease, observing her, perhaps amused, writhe upon commaAd and thus serve,
and eventually cap, his volcano. Later he taught me this sort of thing first-hand. He used
the' collar tie and, mercifully with real thongs'. when he was finished I had not only
learned again that I Was a slave but that this general sort of position, even with the female
facing forward, has no intrin sic connection with female dominance. He had let me experi
ence it in that fashion to see what it was like. He had then returned me to total bondage.
        "Master," I said.
       "Yes," he said.
       "I have been doing a great deal of thinking," I said.
       "Is that what you have been doing?" he asked.
       "I mean, in the last few Ehn," I said.
       "Yes?" he said.
       "I have learned my collar," I said.
       "Good," he said.
       "You have taught it to me well," I said.
       He shrugged. The Goreans have a theory that any man can teach a woman her collar, and perfectly.
       "But was it necessary," I asked, "that you used me as you did earlier, after you had whipped me?"
       "How was that?" he asked.
    "Master!" I protested. Then I saw that he wished to make me speak. "when you made me kneel, with my head down," I said, embarrassed.
    "No," he said. "It was not necessary."
    "Then why did you do it?" I asked.
    "It amused me," he said.
    "Surely there was more to it than ,that," I said.
    "Yes," he said, "it is a useful way to show a woman, one who may be proud, or not clear on the matter, that she is a slave."
    "I see," I said. "I find it difficult to forget the experience."
    "Oh?" he asked.
    "Yes," I said.
    "Doubtless you were appropriately degraded and shamed," he said.
    "No," I said. "To be sure," I said, "it was instructive, but, as I reeall it now, I found it very oving and exciting."
    "You liked it?" he asked.
    "Doubtless it brought my slavery home to me," I said, carefully.
    "I would think so," he said. "It would doubtless be difficult to continue to think of oneself as a free woman after having been used in that fashion."
    "I liked it," I said, suddenly.
    "That is interesting," he said. The beast! He knew I had almost screamed with submission and pleasure!
    "Are slaves often used in such a fashion?" I asked, as though unconcerned.
    "Sometimes," he said.
    "Might I ever again be put under such a discipline?" I asked.
    "Perhaps," he said. I looked at him.
    "Perhaps if you beg prettily enough," he said.
    "I will," I smiled. "I will!"
"Do you recall the position?" he asked. "Yes," I said.
  "Speak," he said.
    "The girl kneels, with her head down, her hands clasped behind her neck," I said.
    "You recall the position perfectly," he admitted.
    "Yes," I said.
       "Assume it," he said.
       "Yes, Master," I said, joyfully.
       "Thank you, Master," I said, softly; lying in his arms, thanking him for his touch.  It is now evening. Again he had gone to the door and summoned a slave. Again we had ad food brought in and had, again, eaten.
       "Ohhhh," I said softly. "Thank you. Thank you, Master. You are my master. You are my Masster! Thank you. Thank you, my master."
       Then, later, he held me closely.
       "Master," I said.
       "Yes?" he said.
       "I have often wondered what was the meaning of a golden cage, and why I, when thought a Tatrix, was placed in one."
       "The gold," said he, "is a precious metal, is thought perhaps fitting for a free woman, in particular for one of high station, and certainly for a Tatrix. That it is a cage, on the other hand, signifies that she is taken to be, in actuality, no better than a slave, and only fit to be a slave. To place her in such a cage is then to make a clear statement as to her true and rightful nature."
       "I see," I said. "And dotibtiess the goldensack is of similar import."
       "Yes," He said.
       "Yet Hassan enslaved Sheila before placing her in such a sack."
       "True," he said, "and that she as a mere slave was yet placed in such a sack must have
       induced exquisite emotions m her, emotions of fear, of outrage and humiliation."
       "Doubtless," I said.
      "It was a. joke on the part of Hassan," he said, "an exquisite one."
       "Doubtless," I said.
      "But doubtless, too," be said, "it served a useful purpose in her on-going training."
       "Doubtless," I said.
       "But doubtless, too," he laughed, "it seemed an appropriate modality, did it not, in which
       to transport a former Tatrix to Argentum?"
       "Yes," I said. I shuddered.
    "But I think you need not fear confinement now in golden cages or golden sacks," he said.
    "Cages formed of simple, sturdy bars of black iron and deep, doubly-sewn sacks of heavy, plain leather, black and thick, tied or locked shut, will now serve well enough for you, confinements suitable to the more common slave you now are."
    "Yes, Master," I laughed. Such devices wduld suffice quite well, surely, for a common girl such as I now was.
    "Master," I said.
    "Yes?" he said.
    "Read me my collar," I begged, "please."
    "I showed it to you before," he said. "You should have read it for yourself."
    "You are teasing me," I pouted. "You know I cannot read."
    "Not even your collar?" he asked.
    "No," I said.
    "Well," he said, "do not worry about it. It is not necessary for you to be able to read your collar. All that is necessary, from your point of view, is that it is locked on you, that you cannot remove it, and that it can be read by free men."
    "Are you going to teach me to read?" I asked.
    "Such skills would seem to have a very low priority," he said. "For example, can you play the kalika?"
    "No," I said.
    "Do you know the exercises and luscious movements of slave dance?" he asked.
    "Not really," I said.
    "So why should you be taught to read?" he asked.
    "I could spy on your mail," I said.
    "I had not considered that," he admittede "It could improve my price," I said.
    "That is probably true," he said.
    "Many men," I said, "enjoy having a girl who can read. It gives them pleasure to make her serve as well, or better, than an illiterate girl."
    "I shall think about it," he said.
    "Thank you, Master," I said. Whether I would learn to read or not was not up to me. In final analysis, it was up to masters. It would be done with me as they wished.
    "Tell me, please," I asked, "what is on my collar."
    "A speck of dust," he said. "There, I have removed it."
    "Please," I said.
    "It is simple," he said. "It says, 'I belong to Drusus Reneius, of Ar.'
    I kissed him. "It speaks the truth not only of my legal condition," I said, "but of my heart."
    He then, again, began to touch me. "Thank you, Master I breathed, again. I did not know whether or nor I would be taught to read. Then, in a few moments, gently, softly, I began again
 to yield to him.
    I lay on one elbow, regarding Drusus Rencius. "What did you pay for me?" I asked.
    "It is not important," he said.
    "I am curious to know," I said.
    "Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajira," he said.
    "Nonetheless," I said,  "we are notoriously curious. Doubtless the saying would not otherwise have gained such wide currency."
    "That is probably true," he said.
    "I would like to know," I said.
    What is the difference of a coin or two?" he asked.
    "I know it was not much," I said.
    "Oh?" he asked.
    I laughed merrily, and he reddened. I knew J had triumphed!
    "You paid for me!" I laughed. "You know what you paid! What did I cost you? What did I bring Miles of Argentum!"
    "I do not recall," he said.
    "Miles of Argentum," I laughed, "when he saw me in Corcyrus, thought I would bring a whole silver tarsk! He, then, too had only seen me fully clothed, clad in the full regalia of the Tatrix.
    Only my face had been unveiled! Had he seen me naked he might have raised his estimate!
    Too, suppose he had seen me in a posture of submission or had had me writhe at his feet in slave chains! Suppose he had put me through detailed and methodical slave paces, or had had me bring him the whip in my teeth!"
    "Perhaps he would have added a copper tarsk or so to your price," speculated Drusus Rencius.
    "Who knows?"
    "You yourself," I said, slyly, maliciously, "in Corcyrus, as I recall, conjectured that I would probably bring only between fifteen and twenty copper tarsks."
    "That seems about right," he said. "In a normal market, under normal conditions, of course."
    "But that was untrained," I said. "Subsequently I was trained."
    "Yes," he said, "that is true. I suppose it would be only fair to improve your price by a copper tarsk or so in virtue of such a consideration."
    "But suppose a man particularly wanted a woman," I said. "Suppose she was, for some reason, very special to him. Perhaps she had been cruel to him. Perbaps he mightily desired her. He
might then be tempted to pay at least a little morc, might he not, to obtain her?"
    "I suppose so," said Drusus Rencius, irritatedly.
    "What did you pay?" I asked.
    "It doesn't really make a difference, does it?" he asked.
    "I suppose not," I said, "but I would like to know."
    "I do not recall," he growled.
    "Miles of Argentum," I said, "truly at one time believed me, and with good reason, from his point of view, to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus. For that reason he paid fifteen tarsks for me, fifteen silver tarsks."
    "What an idiot," said Drusus Rencius, darkly.
    I laughed. "Fortunately he was your friend," I said, "and for that reason would cheerfully accept a considerable loss in my resale."
    "I paid more than fifteen silver tarsks for you," said Drusus Rencius.
    I clapped my hands with pleasure. "I knew it must be 50!" I laughed.
    The face of Drusus Rencius was black with rage.
    "what did you pay!" I asked. "what did you pay!"
    "More than twenty tarsks," he said, angrily. "How much!" I demanded. "How much!"
    "I paid fifty silver tarsks for you!" be said, furiously. "Fifty!" I cried.
    "Yes!" he cried, in fury.
    "Wonderful!" I laughed. "That is wonderful!" He scowled at me fiercely.
    "I am surely the poorest investment a man has ever made in a slave girl," I laughed. "You will have to keep me for-ever. You will never recoup that loss!"
    "Oh!" I cried, thrown to my stomach on the love furs..
  Then my legs were thrust apart. Then as I gasped and clutched at the furs, almost before I could move, from be-hind, handled like the slave I was, I was pinioned, held and entered.
    "You need not fear I will sell you," he said. "I have waited long to possess you."
    I squirmed, impaled.
    "And do not worry about the economic aspects of the matter," he said. "You are going to make your sales price up to me in value, aren't you?"
    "Yes," I said, "a thousand times!"
    "Is that all?" he asked.
    "A thousand times a thousand times!" I gasped.
    "Is that all?" he asked.
    "And more, and more, and more!" I cried.
    "You will now move as I direct," he said.
    "Yes, Master," I said. "Yes, Master!"
    "I love you. I love you. I love you!" I moaned. " love you so much I could die with the love of you."
    Then his lips were again upon me.
    It was now in the early light of morning. In a few hours he would leave for Ar. I would
    accompany him, perhaps even in his chains, his.
    "You are doing it to me again!" I moaned.
    "Be quiet," he whispered.
    Then I melted to him again, soft and lost, held, in his arms, and then he swept me up again,
    will-less, his collared slave, like a swirling leaf high into the clouds of ecstasy, and love.


                         AFTERWORD


    Wars, I suppose, continue.
    who knows what knives are lifted, what secret, stealthy marches may be afoot?
    But these things' seem far away.
    Ar, in the evening, seems very beautiful.
    I must conclude this narrative now. I have been summoned to my master's couch. I hasten to obey.










