who is only average, generally, so to speak, may, at the very glance of a given master, one who is special to her for no reason that is clear, become so weak and paga hot that she can scarcely stand.'
'Generally, then,' she said, 'the buyer would not know, from the block information, whether the girl would be any good or not?'
'He will certainly know if he, personally, finds her attractive. Too, even a frigid woman, in the arms of a Gorean master, can be made to sweat and cry.'
'Frigidity is not permitted to the slave girl?' she asked.
'No,' I said. 'The master will not accept it'
'Poor girl,' she laughed.
'Frigidity is a neurotic luxury,' I told her. 'It is allowed only to free women, probably because no one cares that much about them. Indeed, frigidity is one of the titles and permissions implicated in the lofty status of a free woman. For many it is, in effect, their proudest possession. It distinguishes them from the lowly slave girl. It proves to themselves and others that they are free. Should they be enslaved, of course, it is, for better or for worse, taken from them, like their property and their clothing.'
'Not all free women are frigid,' she said.
'Of course not,' I said, 'but there is actually a scale, so to speak, in such matters. But just as some free women are insufficiently inert, or cold, to qualify, strictly, as frigid, perhaps to their chagrin, so none of them, I think, are sufficiently ignited to qualify in the ranges of 'slave-girl hot.' so to speak. A free woman's sexuality may generally be thought of in terms of degrees of inertness, or coolness; a slave girl's sexuality, on the other hand, may generally be thought of in terms of degrees of responsive passion, or heat. Some slave girls are hotter than others, of course, just as some free women are less cold than others, whether this pleases them or not. Whereas the free woman normally maintains a plateau of frigidity, however, the slave girl will usually increase in degrees of heat, this a function of her master, his strength, her training, and such. The slave girl grows in passion; the free woman languishes in her frigidity, congratulating herself on the starvation of her needs.'
'Do free women know what they are missing?' she asked.
'I think, on some level, they do,' I said. 'Else the resentment and hatred they bear the slave girl would be inexplicable.'
'I see,' she said.
'Beware the free woman,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'On the block, of course,' I said, 'the girl is under the control of the auctioneer, who functions as her master while she is being sold. He will often exhibit her skillfully. A good auctioneer is very valuable to a slaver's house. He will guide her with his voice, and touches, or strokes, of his whip. He may put her through slave paces on the block, forcing her to assume postures and attitudes. If she is a dancer, she may be forced to dance. She may be, if he sees fit, publicly caressed on the block.'
'Before the buyers!' she said.
'Of course,' I said. 'It does not matter. She is a slave.'
'Of course,' she whispered. 'She is only a slave.'
'It is not unusual,' I said, 'to even send a girl aroused onto the block, that the nature of her movements may make clear her needs to the audience.'
'And should such a girl be caressed?' she asked.
'She might enter orgasm on the very block,' I said. 'Sometimes it is necessary to whip such a woman from the feet of the auctioneer. At the very least she will beg to serve a master within the very Ahn, either a buyer or one of the slaver's men, to achieve closure on the arousal which has been inflicted upon her.'
'How cruel Goreans are!' she said.
'Is this more cruel than making clear the color of her hair and eyes?' I asked. 'The Goreans are buying the whole girl.'
She looked down.
'Do not fear,' I said. 'Normally there is no time for a lengthy sale. One must take a few bids and then thrust the wench from the block, to make room for the next girl. A sale often takes no more time than one or two Ehn. Sometimes four hundred girls or more must be sold from a single block in a given night.'
'One might be exhibited and sold before one scarcely knew what was occurring,' she said.
'I suppose so,' I said. 'I am not a woman.'
'But I am,' she said.
'It is thus likely to be your problem and not mine,' I told her.
'How you tease one who is only a slave,' she said.
'One does what one pleases with them,' I told her.
'Of course,' she said. 'We are only slaves.'
'Master,' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
'Is there no cure for a free woman's frigidity?' she asked.
'Of course,' I said.
'Total enslavement?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
She said nothing.
'Every woman has a need to submit herself to a master,' I said. 'When she finds herself at the feet of her master her body will no longer permit her to be frigid. There is no longer any reason. She is now where nature places her, at his feet and in his power. She kisses his feet and, weeping, feeling the heat and oils between her lovely legs, cannot wait to be thrown to the furs.'
She did not speak.
'But I do not speak here merely of the simplicities and negativities of a cure,' I said. 'I speak rather of the beginning of a career, a helpless, flowering biography of service, love and passion.'
'You speak of a woman being made a slave girl,' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
'I wonder if I will be pleasing to a master,' she said.
'Any slave girl,' I said, 'with the proper management, and master, can become a wonder of sexuality and love.'
'I think I will love being a slave girl,' she said.
I shrugged. What did it matter, what her feelings were? She was a slave.
'No wonder the free women hate us so,' she said.
'Of course,' I said. 'You are everything that they desire to be and are not.'
She bit her lip. She looked at me. 'Are free women permitted to watch us being sold?' she asked.
'Of course,' I said. 'Why not? They are free.'
She looked at me, miserably.
'Ah, yes,' I said. 'I see. It would be quite humiliating, one woman, a slave, being sold, while another woman, a free woman, observes.'
'Yes,' she said.
'Let us hope that the free woman is not one of powerful family,' I said, 'who has had the other captured, and put upon the block.'
'That would be dreadful,' she said.
'Women are capable of such things,' I said.
She put down her head.
'Perhaps it is well that they are not dominant,' I said. 'Perhaps they should all be controlled, and kept in collars.'
'Or bondage strings,' she laughed.
'Yes, or bondage strings, like you, my pretty slave,' I said.
'Men want us as their abject slaves, don't they?' she asked.
'Yes, like you, my dear,' I told her. 'Any man who tells you differently is lying.'
'Are most Gorean women slaves?' she asked.
