“Who were these business men you spoke of!” demanded Miss Wentworth.
“Two known to me,” said Thrasilicus.
“That you fabricated,” she said. “There were none such! All fawned upon me. There were none I did not dazzle, and charm! All sought my favor, my smile. I was popular!”
“I do not doubt your popularity,” said Thrasilicus. “There were probably none who did not consider, from time to time, how you might appear, naked, and bound at their feet.”
“No!” she said. “They were gentlemen!”
“A gentleman,” said Thrasilicus, “not unoften contains a man.”
“A woman,” she said, “is entitled to use her charms, to tease, to appear to offer, when there is no offer, and such.”
“Perhaps a certain sort of woman,” said Thrasilicus.
“I was successful,” she said. “I won many investments, much largesse, considerable capital, for my firm!”
“True,” said Thrasilicus. “And your practice always wore the veil of mutual interest, of the earnest exploitation of timely opportunities, of the utmost business efficiency, of the highest standards of commercial professionalism, but, underneath, was concealed an agenda of unilateral advantage, for your firm and yourself, an end you shamelessly pursued by attempting to appeal to, and twist, the needs of men, with a thousand smiles, the suggestion of promises, the scattering of various seductive hints.”
“I was successful,” she said. “I fooled them all!”
“Several of your clients, as I understand it,” said Thrasilicus, “lost a great deal of money.”
“That is not my concern,” she said. “They were dupes, gullible fools, all of them!”
“It is interesting,” said Thrasilicus. “You seem to believe that none of these men understood your techniques and stratagems, that none of them understood what you were doing, and how you were doing it.”
“None did!” she said.
“Some did, surely,” said Thrasilicus, “and doubtless several others, as well. Not all men are naive, not all are silly fools.”
“None did,” she insisted.
“Some understood you only too well,” said Thrasilicus. “While pretending to succumb to your rather labored wiles, they found your meretricious trickeries transparent, and secretly regarded you with amusement, even contempt.”
“No!” she said. “And, if I might ask, who were these two alleged businessmen to whom you referred earlier?”
“You may ask,” he said. “But that is all.”
“Who were they!” she demanded.
“Curiosity,” he said, “is not becoming in one such as you.”
“One such as I?” she said, puzzled.
“If you persist in this matter,” said Tajima, “it may be necessary to once again restrict your speech.”
Miss Wentworth regarded him, angrily, but said nothing.
She was unwilling, it seemed, as many women, to undergo again the shameful indignity of the ball and strap, which had given her a proof that on this world a woman might not always be permitted to speak how and when she wished.
I think she had then begun to suspect deeper meanings of her sex than she had been aware of on Earth.
“I have heard much of your sort,” said Lord Nishida to Miss Wentworth. “I have long looked forward to meeting one of you.”
“Of my sort?” she said. “One of me?”
“Yes,” he said.
Then Lord Nishida addressed Tajima. “Please draw down the sheet to her shoulders.”
Miss Wentworth struggled, but was held in place by the two guards. Tajima held the sheet in place.
“You wear a slave collar,” said Lord Nishida, concernedly.
“It was part of my disguise!” she cried. “I am a free woman!”
“It is very attractive,” said Lord Nishida. “Remove it.”
“I cannot!” she cried, angrily.
“You cannot?” asked Lord Nishida.
“No,” she cried. “I had the key, I could have removed it, but that brute, that monster, Tarl Cabot, he whom we brought here, for you, as agreed, took the key from me, and cast it into the sea!”
“I see,” said Lord Nishida.
Slave collars, of course, are not made to be removed by the slave.
“Get the hateful thing off my neck!” she cried.
Cecily looked up at her, startled. Cecily loved her collar. Had she been capable of owning property, it would have been her proudest possession. Actually, of course, it, like herself, belonged to the master. She had a security, and an identity, in the collar. In its way it defined her, and governed her behavior, how she should act, how and when she might speak, what she might do, and not do, and so on. She wanted to be owned, and loved being owned. She loved belonging to a man, as his helpless, vulnerable, utter property. How free she was then, kneeling at his feet, and how right, and perfect! Too, it betokened that she was a woman of value, that she had worth, that she could be bought and sold. Too, not every woman was collared. The collar attested to her desirability as a female. It said, in its way, “Here is a female who has been found of interest to men.” And, from the woman’s point of view, it said, in a sense, “See me. Look upon me. I have been found worth collaring.” It was, in its way, thus, a badge of excellence, a certification of quality.
Lord Nishida looked to one of his subordinates, near the entrance to the pavilion. “Bring suitable tools,” he said.
“Good!” said Miss Wentworth.
The fellow was gone, in a moment.
Miss Wentworth cast me a look of triumph.
She then regarded Thrasilicus. “There has been a misunderstanding here, Mr. Stevens,” she said. “That is obvious. Now, in the light of the sympathetic understanding and thoughtful consideration of our mutual friend, the noble Lord Nishida, to whom I take it you are subordinate, we may shortly renegotiate our concerns. There remain matters such as my compensation, which should now, incidentally, be considerably increased, given my inconvenience and embarrassment, my return to Earth, and such.”
“Actually, Miss Wentworth,” said Thrasilicus, “Lord Nishida and I are, in a way, allies, and neither of us is subordinate to the other.”
“I take it, however,” she said, “that Lord Nishida’s wishes would weigh heavily with you.”
“Certainly,” he said.
She then turned to Lord Nishida. “I will need a wardrobe,” she said. “It need not be clothing of Earth, expensive, well-tailored, tasteful, elegant, fashionable, chic, and such, such as I was accustomed to on Earth, for I well understand that such might be difficult to obtain here, but, you understand, it should be concealing, ample, and decorous, perhaps robes of concealment, such as might be favored by free women of Gor. Veiling, too, given certain aspects of the relevant culture, would not be inappropriate.”
Lord Nishida smiled.
At this point the fellow who had left the pavilion a bit ago returned and, with him, was a burly fellow, not of the “strange men,” carrying tools, who was, if not of the caste of metal workers, one at least, it seemed, who was familiar with certain aspects of their craft.
In a few moments Miss Wentworth’s slender, aristocratic, fair throat was freed of the light, attractive collar.
She straightened her body, and shook her head, and her hair swirled about her shoulders. She did it well, and it was fetching. It was doubtless intended to have its effect on Lord Nishida. I could understand how certain men might rush to please such a woman. “Thank you,” she said to Lord Nishida.
“Now,” said Lord Nishida to Tajima, “let us see her.”
Miss Wentworth regarded Lord Nishida, startled, disbelievingly.
