“Go,” he said, “while I permit you to retain your silks.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, frightened, and withdrew, to a jangle of bells.
“They are belled, like animals,” I said.
“Be quiet, or you, too, will be belled, little beast,” he said.
“I thank Master,” I said, looking after Kalligone.
“I think now,” he said, “you are avenged.”
“Well avenged!” I laughed. “Allison thanks Master.”
To be sure, how could a man refuse the tavern’s gift of a Kalligone? Perhaps, I thought, because there is another slave who, for whatever reason, is a thousand times more desirable, at least to him?
“But who, now,” he asked, “will serve me paga?”
“Allison,” I said, happily, reaching for the goblet, and holding it out to him.
“Put it down,” he said.
I placed it, puzzled, on the table. Astrinax and Lykos laughed. I did not care for the sound of their laughter. Some others, too, at the nearby tables, were looking on.
“Master?” I said, uneasily.
“Remove your tunic,” he said.
“Here,” I said, “Master?”
“Now,” he said.
I was then naked. Some had gathered around, amongst them the girl, Kalligone.
“What was your former name?” he asked.
“Allison,” I said. “Allison Ashton-Baker.”
“You are a barbarian, are you not?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“What were you on your former world?” he asked.
He knew, surely, for I had spoken to him of such things, in the camp, when I had lain beside him that night, “bound by his will,” when he had, so to speak, stripped me of myself, and I had lain open before him, in so many ways.
“A student,” I said, “at a small school, called a college, an expensive, exclusive college, and a member of an organization at the college to which only women might belong, called a sorority, and it the most expensive and exclusive of the college’s sororities.”
“You stood high in your world,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
“You had position, station, resources,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I was of what one spoke of as the upper classes.”
“And you stood high in such classes,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said. “Quite high.”
“Very high?” he said.
“Yes, Master.”
“And what are you here?” he asked.
I touched my collar. “Kajira, Master,” I said.
There was laughter from those about.
“Excellent,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You are now going to serve a man paga,” he said.
“I know nothing of such things,” I wept.
“Take the goblet in two hands,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Now back away a little,” he said, “and spread your knees.”
“I am not a pleasure slave!” I said.
“Are you white-silk?” he asked.
“No, Master,” I said.
“Spread your knees,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Good,” said Astrinax.
“Good,” said Lykos.
“Now,” said he in whose charge I was, “I could not tell you from a pleasure slave.”
“See her turn red!” laughed one of the paga girls.
“Now take the goblet,” said he in whose charge I was, “and press it firmly, deeply, into your lower belly.”
The goblet was metal, and hard, and cold, and, within it, the paga swirled.
“Do not spill it, or you will be beaten,” he said. “Now,” said he, “lift the goblet, and touch it lightly to your left breast, and then to the right breast, and then lift it, and, looking at me over the rim, lick and kiss the goblet, slowly, softly, tenderly, lingeringly, and then, after a time, extend the goblet to me, arms extended, head down, bowed, between your extended arms.”
“As a submitted woman!” I said.
“As far more than that,” he said, “as one who is only a slave.”
I felt him remove the goblet from my hands, and then I knelt back.
“Now,” said he, “close your eyes, turn about, put your head to the floor, and place your hands behind you, wrists crossed.”
I glanced, frightened, at the coil of cord on the table.
I then obeyed.
“Alcove her,” said a fellow.
I remained for a time, eyes closed, as I had been placed, but I felt no bit of cord whipped about my wrists, fastening them together.
“You may open your eyes, Allison,” said Astrinax, “and kneel at the table, as you will, knees together, if you wish.”
I knelt up, blinking, just in time to see a frightened, stripped Kalligone, cast me a look over her left shoulder. Her hands were tied behind her. She was thrust, stumbling, toward an alcove. I did not think Master Desmond would be easy with her. He had, of course, paid his five tarsk-bits, and she, if wanted, would go with the drink.
“Masters!” I said.
“Do not be concerned,” said Astrinax.
“He does not own you,” Lykos reminded me.
“I was afraid he was going to alcove you,” said Astrinax. “You are not an unattractive little slut.”
“I hate him, I hate him, Masters!” I said.
“Put your tunic on,” said Astrinax.
I did so, in humiliation, and rage. I feared I tore it a bit, in my haste. A typical Gorean free woman, I was sure, later, had I belonged to one, would have lashed me for that, for such clumsiness. The Lady Bina, on the other hand, would simply locate me a needle and some thread.
“I must be about my recruiting,” said Astrinax.
“May fortune be with you,” said Lykos, but he did not seem hopeful. It was growing late.
“Dear friends,” said a tavern’s man, “we must, in ten Ehn, extinguish the lamps.”
I was half asleep, lying beside the table.
I did not so much as glance at he in whose charge I was, Master Desmond, whom I supposed of the Metal Workers. He had returned from the alcove, after an Ahn or so, in a splendid mood. Certainly I well loathed him, he in whose charge I was. Might I not be better placed in the charge of another, but who? Jane, as I understood it, would report to Astrinax, and Eve to Lykos. Both, of course, as I, were owned by the Lady Bina. In Venna I had seen nothing of Lord Grendel or the blind Kur. To be sure, I had not sought them. A few Ehn after Master Desmond had emerged from the alcove, a slaver’s man had entered, and freed Kalligone, who, perhaps as specified by Master
