“Perhaps, even,” he said, “an occasional kiss.”
“Perhaps,” I said. It did not seem to me that he, or the Lady Bina, or the beast, needed to know about such things. Occasionally a fellow had taken me in his arms, suddenly, unexpectedly, held me to him, and kissed me. Such things were done almost as one might glance at a sunset, ruffle the fur of a pet sleen, or bestow a familiar slap on the flank of a kaiila. I was, after all, goods, a property girl, a collar girl, a vendible animal, a purchasable, perhaps lovely, thigh-branded beast, a female slave, a mere kajira. Once a ruffian, lounging against a wall, as I made my way to the market, summoned me to him. As he was a free person, I had to obey, of course. He put me before him, and said, “Clasp your hands behind your back.” I did so, of course. Much may be done with an unattended slave. Is she to disobey a free person? He then put his hand under my chin, lifted it a little, and said, “Slave lips.” He was very close to me. I complied, and waited, eyes closed, and then he took my head, and pressed my lips to the wall. “Kiss it, slut,” he said, “for three Ehn; then be about your business.” I remained thusly, my lips pressed against the wall, my hands clasped behind my back, for three Ehn. I counted the Ehn, for fear he might be behind me, watching. Some passers-by laughed. Doubtless I was not the first slave they had seen, so discomfited. I then, tears in my eyes, my fists clenched, then better aware of my slavery, left. Too, I was distraught. He had been cruel, but had I been found wanting? Was I so poor a slave, so unattractive a slave? Had my lips not been formed, at his command, as a slave’s lips, readied for attention? Had I not, eyes closed, waited, until I had been ignored or rejected, and my pursed lips put to a stone wall, against which I foolishly stood, my hands clasped behind my back, while strangers, some amused, passed by? How helpless, weak, and meaningless I felt! I had been neglected, ignored, and scorned, and not scorned as any slave is scorned, for she is a slave, but scorned even for the purposes of a slave! Is a woman fastened in a collar only to be fastened in a collar? Is its placement meaningless? Is that all she is to be left with, that there is a collar on her neck which she cannot remove? Was I such as to be put aside, dismissed, collared? Was I adjudged of no interest? Could I be so lacking? Was I so poor a slave? Was I not attractive, even beautiful, at least a little? My sense of my own worth, as a woman and a slave, was shaken. Was I so lacking? The young men I had known on my former world would have sought my kiss. Had I been interested in such things they would have been eager to pay for it! If I were truly of no interest to men why would I, and my sisters of the house, beauties all, have been brought to this world, for its girl markets, to be stripped, trained, caged, exhibited, and sold? I recalled a paga girl I had seen soliciting outside her master’s tavern. I had thrilled to her profound, vital, needful sensuousness. I felt a need to reassure myself, perhaps because I was a woman’s slave, and not a man’s slave. Of what value is a slave if she, in her collar, is not of interest to masters? I waited in the street for a time, and then chose a handsome, young Tarnster. Such, I was sure, would be interested in the lips of a slave. I trusted he would not strike me from him. I hurried before him, and knelt down, blocking his way, humbly, and seized his left leg, and pressed my head, lowered, against his leg, as I had seen the paga girl do. I then lifted my head and eyes to him, and said, as she had, “A slave would be kissed, Master.” “Very well,” he said, and lifted me up, and spent a few Ihn with me. “Is Master pleased?” I asked. “Very much,” he said, “which is your tavern?” “Ela, Master,” I cried, hurrying away, “I have only the tavern of my beauty.” I was much pleased, but, too, I was uneasy, for his touch had made me restless. I had suffered little in the way of slave fires, but I was a slave, and well aware of the deeper meanings of my collar. My most memorable experience along these lines, of course, was the interlude with the Metal Worker himself, in the vicinity of Six Bridges. After he had saved me from the girls of the house of Daphne, he had dealt with me at his leisure, and as he pleased, my hands incapacitated, unable to interfere, held over my head, balancing the laundry, my fingers, as he went about his inquiries, clawing into that large, soft bundle of sparkling sheets and linen which I dared not release lest it fall and be soiled, arousing me until, I fear, I had well shown myself, to his satisfaction, as he had apparently intended, slave.
“You were not concerned,” I asked, “with what was done to me?”
“The tarsk-bit was paid,” he said.
“Did you see?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“All of you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“I see,” I said.
“The Lady Bina,” he said, “was quite pleased.”
“Oh?” I said.
“Yes, Allison,” said the Lady Bina. “I was curious to see if you would be selected for the game.”
“Mistress?” I said.
“Yes,” she said. “It seems clear that you are of interest to men, or to some men.”
I was silent.
“I think,” said Astrinax, “we will need two or three more.”
I gathered then that I might not be the only slave for whom the Lady Bina might have use. I gathered, too, that one’s interest to men might be pertinent to the use, or uses, she might have in mind. But that is common to kajirae, that they are of interest to men. Why else would men brand and collar them?
“Did you note the behavior of our little barbarian?” Desmond asked the Lady Bina.
“Oh?” said the Lady Bina.
“She started to squirm,” said Astrinax, “and was on the verge of beginning to yield, as the collar slut she is.”
“Mistress!” I protested.
“In another moment,” said Desmond, “she would have thrust her pretty little body, bare under the nothing of rep cloth, against him.”
“Master!” I said.
“Come now, pretty slut,” said Astrinax, “it was obvious. Many about noted it.”
“What do you think, noble Lykos?” asked the Lady Bina.
“She has nice thighs,” he said. “She might, in a good market, bring nearly a silver tarsk. She is a hot little tart. That is important. I think she would do well on an alcove chain.”
“The taverns are interested in such girls,” said Desmond.
“Have your slave fires been lit?” asked Astrinax.
“No!” I said.
Desmond was looking upon me, grinning.
“No!” I said.
I knew, of course, that I would be no more immune than any other slave should men decide to do such things to me, making me then irremediably their needful, begging slave.
“It is pleasant,” said Desmond, regarding me, “to stoke such fires in a slave’s belly.”
I looked away.
How I hated him!
He saw me as what I was, a slave.
And never had I met a man before whom I felt weaker, more helpless, more slave.
“We will need some more men, too,” said Astrinax.
“Why is that?” asked the Lady Bina.
“For the wagons,” he said.
I did not understand that, as it seemed one driver for a wagon, particularly as the wagons were small, would be sufficient. There were, as of now, three wagons. Astrinax drove one, Lykos the last, and Desmond mine, the second wagon. Indeed, the tharlarion of the second wagon, my wagon, was attached, by its nose ring, to the back of the first wagon, and the tharlarion of the third wagon was attached, by its nose ring, to the back of my wagon. Accordingly, it seemed three Drovers, or teamsters, would be enough. To be sure, I knew little about such matters, and, possibly, Astrinax might be returning to Ar, rather than accompanying us into the Voltai.
“The race is about to begin,” said Astrinax.
“On what have you wagered, Desmond?” inquired the Lady Bina.
“Blue, as I would in Harfax, Lady,” he said.
“I thought, this time, I would hazard yellow,” she said.
“An excellent wager,” said Astrinax.
“Loyalty is admirable, Desmond,” said the Lady Bina, “but not invariably prudential.”
“One supposes not,” he said.
