'Do not be afraid, Elicia,' I said. 'You need only leam how to please men immensely.' I laughed.
'I do not even like men!' she cried.
'It does not matter,' I said. 'The earrings are pretty,' I said.
She rose to her feet, the chain on her ankle, and fumed her head back and forth.
'They are pretty,' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
'I never wore earrings,' she said, 'for they were too feminine.'
'You are very feminine, Elicia,' I said to her. 'You should not have fought your femininity.'
She looked angrily at me.
'Your days of fighting your femininity are at an end,' I told her. 'Men will not permit it. They will force you to yield to your femininity.'
'To be feminine is to be less than a man!' she said.
'Whatever it is,' I said, 'it is what you are.'
'Is it what I am?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'Judy,' she said.
I did not answer her.
'Mistress,' she begged.
'Yes,' I said.
'Is my brand pretty?'
I laughed. 'Yes,' I said. 'It is deep and clean, and it marks you well.'
'The beast put the iron well to my body,' she said, angrily. I could also detect a bit of pride in her voice.
'Yes,' I said, 'he did indeed.'
'I wonder if I am the first woman he has ever branded,' she said.
'He is a warrior,' I said.
'Oh,' she said, subdued. Then again she regarded the brand. 'It is deep and clean,' she said, 'and it marks my body well as that of a slave, but Mistress, is it pretty, is it attractive?'
'What do you think?' I asked.
She looked at me in anguish. Then she said, 'I think it is beautiful.'
'I do, too,' I said. 'It is a perfectly beautiful brand. Many girls will envy you such a lovely brand.'
She looked at me, gratefully. The brand with which she had been marked was the common slave brand for the Gorean female; incised deeply in her thigh, about an inch and a half in height and a half inch in width, was the initial letter, in cursive script, lovely, of the expression 'Kajira, the most common expression in Gorean for a female slave. It was indeed a most beautiful brand. More than half of the branded beauties of Gor, I conjecture, wear that brand.
'Look into the mirror,' I said. She did so.
'What do you see?' I asked.
'A slave,' she said. She smiled, shyly, lowering her head. It seemed an uncharacteristic gesture for she who had been Elicia Nevins. I smiled.
'But a slave who has much to learn,' I said.
She looked at me, questioningly.
'Do you not hear the step of your master, descending the stairs outside the compartments?' I asked.
She listened. 'Yes,' she said.
'You will learn to listen for that step,' I told her.
She looked at me, frightened.
'Is that how you will receive your master,' I asked, 'standing, like a free woman?'
Swiftly she knelt, in the position of the pleasure slave. 'I do not know how to please men,' she wept.
'You will be taught,' I assured her. 'Lift your head a little higher.' She did so.
I looked upon her.
I do not know why it is, but the condition of slavery makes a woman very beautiful. It removes inhibitions to the manifestation of her femininity and her deepest needs.
Bosk entered the room. He stopped for a moment, almost startled, then grinned. He saw a slave knelt at the foot of the couch.
'All is in readiness,' he said to us. 'I shall gag and saddle-bind the slave at midnight,' he said, looking at Elicia. 'Then,' said he, 'I will take flight from Ar.'
'Master must be wary of the patrols,' I said.
'I have counted from the roof,' he said. 'They are not randomizing their flights.'
'I see, Master,' I said. Bosk was thorough. He left little to chance. Yet there would be risk. Yet I feared little for him. I did not think I would care to pursue him on tarnback, were I a mounted guardsman of Ar.
He looked down at Elicia. She knelt in the position of the pleasure slave. Her wrists were bound before her body. Her left ankle was chained to the slave ring. 'A lovely slave,' he said.
'It is not yet midnight, Master,' she said.
He untied her wrists. 'Serve me wine, Slave,' he said. I gasped.
She lifted the vessel of wine I had earlier brought and filled the goblet.
'No,' I whispered to her, and then instructed her how to serve him.
'Wine, Master?' she asked.
'Yes, Slave,' he said.
Then she knelt before him, back on her heels, head down, lifting the goblet to him, proffering it to the master with both hands.
He took the goblet from her and, regarding her, drank. I could see he was well pleased with his new acquisition, the lovely beauty, Elicia.
'Bring a pan, and pour wine into it,' said he to me, 'and give it to the animal.'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
I found a pan and poured wine into it, shallowly, and put it on the tiles before Elicia who, frightened, putting her head down, drank from it. She lifted her head. 'You have made me drink like a she-sleen,' she said.
'You are a slave,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' she said. He was teaching her her slavery.
'Now,' said he, 'you will serve me the second wine.'
Elicia turned to me, frightened. She knew the second wine which was commanded of her. It was the wine of her slavery. Then she looked to Bosk, terrified.
'I shall withdraw, Master,' I said.
'I do not know how to please a man, Master,' said Elicia.
I saw this did not please Bosk.
'I do not know how, really, Master,' she wept. 'Forgive a slave, please!'
'Fetch the whip,' said Bosk to me.
I went to fetch the whip.
'I will try, Master!' cried Elicia. Then she looked wildly at me. 'Please, Mistress,' she begged, 'help me! Please help me, Mistress!'
'Does a slave wish assistance?' I asked.
'The slave, Elicia,' she said, 'begs the aid of Mistress.'
I looked to Bosk of Port Kar. 'Instruct her,' he smiled, 'with the whip.'
I touched her on the neck with the whip. 'Put your head down, Slave,' I said. She did so. 'Although you are only a slave your master is permitting you to serve him,' I said. 'This is a great honor.' She seemed startled. Then it became clear to her that this was, for her, a slave, an honor. 'You have a treasured opportunity,' I pointed out, 'to serve the master.' 'Yes, Mistress,' she said. 'A man such as Bosk of Port Kar,' I said, 'has many women. Will he keep you for himself, or will he throw you to his men, or sell you or discard you?' She trembled. 'If you are not pleasing,' I said, 'you may be slain.' She shuddered. 'I will try to be pleasing,' she stammered. 'Do you wish to serve your master?' I asked. 'Yes,' she said, 'yes, Mistress!'
I pointed to the feet of Bosk. 'Hold his feet,' I said. 'Remove his sandals with your teeth.'
