I had every confidence in Cecily, that she would be a kind, understanding, tactful, fair first girl, that she would share the work, would not mistreat her subordinate and inferior, and so on. I was less certain that she would maintain an appropriate discipline. One has to introduce a hierarchy amongst female slaves, backed by the power of the master. Otherwise one commonly invites chaos into the house, the kitchen, the gardens, the kennel area, and so on.
“Consider her,” I said to Pertinax. “Put your head down,” I said to the slave. She quickly, again, put her head down. “Look upon the sleek, vulnerable little she-beast,” I said to Pertinax. “I give her to you, as your animal. Scrutinize her slave curves. She is raw, and young, but surely she has collar promise. Consider her waiting on you, hand and foot. Consider her licking and kissing your feet. Consider her, squirming, moaning, and begging, in the furs. Am I to suppose that you, truly, would not know what to do with a slave?”
“Perhaps, Master,” said Cecily, “he would prefer another slave.”
“No!” said Pertinax, suddenly. He then lowered his eyes, embarrassed.
“Another slave,” I reminded Cecily, “is otherwise owned.”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” said Pertinax.
“Have you visited Saru in the stables?” I asked.
“No!” he said, quickly.
“You might enjoy seeing her as a naked, collared stable slut,” I said.
“Surely not,” he said.
“I am sure some of the fellows she knew on Earth would,” I said.
“Perhaps,” he said.
“And perhaps you, too, would,” I said.
“Perhaps,” he said.
“She is there to be seen,” I said.
“I understand,” he said.
“From what I understand,” I said, “that slavery, that of a stable slut, is an appropriate, excellent slavery for her.”
“Undoubtedly,” he said.
“Certainly she makes a pretty little slave,” I said.
“Doubtless,” he said, reddening.
“You did, I take it, after three days,” I said to Cecily, “inform Pertinax of the petition of the slave Saru, that he might call upon her?”
“Yes, Master,” she said. “But I do not think he did so. And you forbade me to inform the slave of aught of this.”
“Did you make clear the earnestness of the slave’s petition?” I inquired.
“Yes, Master,” said Cecily, “and I begged him that he might consent to accede to her supplication.”
“You are a kindly slave,” I said to Cecily, “to feel the misery of another slave, and beg for her.”
She put down her head.
“But he declined to do so?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Surely,” I said to Pertinax, “on Earth, in your offices, or wherever, you must have considered the former Miss Wentworth as naked, in a collar, or on your leash, or roped at your feet, or such.”
“I did not allow myself such thoughts,” he said.
“But you had them, did you not?” I asked.
“Yes!” he said, angrily.
“Good,” I said. “Then you were vital, and in lively, delightful, robust health.”
“She is worthless, and I hate her,” he said.
“She is not worthless, really,” I said. “She is now a slave, and would be worth something, even if only a few copper tarsks. Only when she was a free woman, busy with being priceless,” I said, “was she worthless.”
“I hate her,” he said, angrily.
I found his vehemence interesting.
“May I speak, Master?” asked Cecily.
“Surely,” I said.
“Master Pertinax,” said she, “the slave Saru plaintively calls herself to your attention. You are her only link with her former life. You must understand how important this is to her, how precious it is to her. What else has she, on this perilous world, seemingly so harsh and strange, to cling to? Who else understands her, and whence she has come, and what has been done to her? Who else is there with whom she might speak, with whom else might she hope to share her thoughts, or fears?”
“She may speak with the tharlarion,” said Pertinax.
Cecily was then silent.
“She is cunning, she is clever,” said Pertinax. “A tear, a trembling lip, a pathetic, stammered sound and I would again be hers.”
“Then you do not truly understand that she is now a slave,” I said.
“She did not treat me well, or others,” he said, irritably.
“Have pity on her,” begged Cecily. “She is now only a helpless, frightened slave! She is much at the mercy of any free person! Do you not feel for her?”
I am beginning to understand manhood,” said Pertinax. “I will not now surrender it.”
“A slave, well handled, well mastered,” I said, “does not produce the surrender of manhood, but assures its triumph.”
“And at the feet of a master,” said Cecily, softly, “the slave finds herself.”
“I hate her!” cried Pertinax.
“She wants to be in your arms,” said Cecily.
“Absurd,” said Pertinax.
“The slave fires have been set and ignited in her belly,” I said. “She now needs men, as a slave needs men. But it is you whom she wishes to serve.”
“Serve?” he laughed.
“Yes,” I said.
“She wants to be in your arms, Master,” said Cecily.
“Oh, yes,” he laughed, “anything to escape the stable, the collar! For that what sacrifice would she not make? Even that of becoming what she hitherto most despised, a wife, or companion!”
“No, Master,” said Cecily. “She wants to be otherwise in your arms, not as wife or companion, but as slave.”
“Absurd,” said Pertinax.
“Do not forget,” I said, “that slave fires have been kindled in her sweet, vulnerable belly. Once that is done, what can a woman be but a slave?”
“I suspect,” said Cecily, “she often fantasized about you as her master.”
“Impossible,” said Pertinax.
“Why else,” I asked, “would she, of all others, have chosen you to accompany her to Gor, to complete her role on Gor, that of seeming to be her master?”
“She brought me with her to have a manipulable weakling,” he said, “one to despise, one to do her bidding, unquestioningly.”
“I do not doubt she thought that,” I said. “But deep within a woman’s belly flow mysterious currents, floods she is unable to control, forces and truths which mock and deny, and stir, the uneasy films and surfaces with which she labors to identify herself.”
“She is humanly worthless,” said Pertinax, “even if not economically so, whatever coin she might sell for, whatever price might take her off a slave block, whether a silver tarsk or a copper shaving. She is despicable. I hate her.”
“Yet,” I said, “as is not unoften the case, you want her.”
“I?”
“Yes,” I said. “You desire her.”
