Then, as I lay there, bound, with Eta nearby, I asked myself why I should be ashamed? Was it wrong for a woman to yield helplessly to a man? Was it wrong for the heart to beat, to breathe, to feel? if the nature of the man were conquest and victory, what might then be the nature of the woman; could it be complementary; might it not be defeat, and delicious surrender and pleasure? I began to sweat in the bonds. Eta smiled at me. Perhaps an equal must resist a man, but I was not an equal; I was a slave girl! I belonged to men! I could be a biological woman, as perhaps a free woman could not. I could be a primitive female, an owned woman, as they could not. I could be a woman, as they could not. Slavery made me free to be a woman. I reared up, sitting, my hands tied behind me. I could not free myself. Eta held my shoulders gently. My eyes were wild. I had no choice. I was slave. I was forced to be a woman.
I cried out with pleasure. Eta cautioned me to silence. I had resisted the man for several minutes. I had fought not to feel. How foolish I had been. What pleasure I had lost. I imagined myself then superbly yielding and kissing and melting in the arms of a master from almost his first touch, the lengthy, delicious pleasure that I could give him, his slave, a pleasure, too, which would make me want to scream with the joy of my womanhood.
'Untie me, Eta,' I begged. 'Untie me!'
She did not understand me.
I turned my back to her, thrusting my bound hands piteously to her. 'Untie me!' I begged.
Eta shook her head gently, and held me. I had been tied by the master. I must remain bound.
I shook my head with misery.
I wanted to crawl to the men, to tell them I understood, to beg them to have me, to let me give them pleasure.
I wanted to please them as a slave girl, theirs. My eyes were vulnerable with the helpless lust of a bound girl who would crawl to a man to serve him. I had not dreamed such an emotion could exist. It was not merely that I was eager to piteously and submissively display my beauty to them, that they might be moved to take it in their arms and vanquish it, but, beyond this, I was overwhelmed by an entire dimension of emotion which might be spoken of, though inadequately, as the desire to yield service and love. I wanted to give, unstintingly, with no thought of return. Always I had been concerned with what I might obtain. Now, for the first time in my life, in my joy and self-acceptance as a female slave, I wanted to give. I wanted to give all of myself, wholeheartedly, to deliver and bestow myself unto them as their girl, who loved them and would do all for them, asking nothing. I wished to be nothing, and to give all.
I wanted to be their slave.
I shook with the selfless ecstasy of the slave girl.
I wanted to crawl to them to tell them that I now understood, and that I was theirs. I wanted to cry out to them, to weep, to kneel to them, to kiss and lick submissively at their bodies in my joy.
'Untie me, Eta!' I wept.
She shook her head.
I knew I had not been as successful as I might have been in pleasing the man to whom my master had earlier commanded me.
I looked at Eta. I looked to the sleeping men. I looked at Eta, again. 'Teach me, Eta,' I begged, in a desperate whisper, 'teach me tomorrow to be pleasing to men. Teach me to be pleasing to men.'
Eta could not understand my words, but she could read my eyes, my looks, the movements of my body, my piteous needs. She smiled, nodding. She understood what was occurring in my body. I knew Eta would help me. She knew I was a slave. She would help me to be a better slave. Soon, I knew, when I learned more of the language, and could clearly, or more clearly, express myself, Eta would train me, as she could, in the giving of pleasures to masters. I kissed her.
I struggled with the bonds.
'Please untie me, Eta,' I begged, again indicating the bonds. She smiled, and shook her head.
I squirmed in the leather. I now knew why I had been bound. It was to prevent me from crawling to the men as a slave.
I was not to interrupt their rest.
I cried out in anger and misery, confined by the bonds. Eta cautioned me to silence.
The men must not be disturbed.
She then took me by the shoulders, to press me back, softly, to the ground. The thin blanket was about my thighs.
Before she pressed me back, I, resisting, looked at her. 'La Kajira,' I said.
Eta nodded. 'Tu Kajira,' she said. Then she indicated herself. 'La Kajira,' she said. Then she pointed to me. 'Tu Kajira,' she smiled.
Then she gently pressed me back to the ground and, as I lay on my right shoulder, looking up, covered me with the thin blanket.
I saw the moonlight on her steel collar. I envied her the collar, I, too, wanted to wear a steel collar. It had writing on it. It doubtless identified her master. I, too, wished to wear a collar, which might bear, too, the name of my master.
Eta kissed me and rose to her feet and left.
I lay under the blanket, naked, bound. I rolled to my back. I moved a bit, to find a place where I might lie comfortably. I did not move too much for I did not wish to dislodge the blanket. It would be difficult to replace should it come off in the night. I looked up at the night, the stars, the moons. I saw the cliff. I saw the guard on the height of the cliff. I then rolled to my right shoulder, moving the blanket as little as possible. I regarded the closed wall of thorn brush. I moved somewhat and looked at the furs, and, in some places, the tenting of the men.
I turned my head and looked up at the moons. How wild and white and beautiful they seemed.
Judy Thornton, or she who had once, on a remote and artificial world, been Judy Thornton, looked up at the moons.
I remembered the lovely slave in the Ta-Teera which I had seen in the mirror. She, surely, had not been Judy Thornton.
I was gloriously pleased to be that slave.
I slept out of doors, in a camp of barbaric men. Above me were the bright stars in a black sky, and three moons. I lay under a thin blanket. I was naked. There was a brand on my thigh. I was a bound slave girl.
I was not unhappy.
I looked up at the moons. 'La Kajira,' I said. 'I am a slave girl.'
5
The Raid
'What is your duty?' asked my master.
'Absolute obedience,' I replied, in Gorean.
He held the whip to my lips. I pressed my lips to it, and kissed it. 'Absolute obedience,' I said.
Eta, from behind me, pinned the first of five veils about my face. It was light, and shimmering, of white silk, almost transparent. Then, one after the other, she added the freedom veil, or veil of the citizeness, the pride veil, the house veil, and street veil. Each of these is heavier and more opaque than the one which lies within. The street veil, worn publicly, is extremely bulky, quite heavy and completely opaque; not even the lineaments of the nose and cheeks are discernible when it is worn; the house veil is worn indoors when there are those present who are not of the household, as in conversing with or entertaining associates of one's companion. Veils are worn in various numbers and combinations by Gorean free women, this tending to vary by preference and caste. Many low-class Gorean women own only a single veil which must do for all purposes. Not all high-caste women wear a large number of veils. A free woman, publicly, will commonly wear one or two veils; a frequent combination is the light veil, or last veil, and the house or street veil. Rich, vain women of high caste may wear ostentatiously as many as nine or ten veils. In certain cities, in connection with the free companionship, the betrothed or pledged
