not take my eyes off the girl under the torches, the collar and slaves disk at her throat. I was trembling.
'Forty-four!' I heard. 'Forty-six!'
I trembled. I had seen Miss Beverly Henderson kiss the whip. I had seen her put through slave paces.
'Forty Seven! I heard. 'Ninety tarks!' called a man. The auctioneer stepped back from the girl, the whip inhis hand.
'I have ninety tarsks,' he called. 'She is not so cold,' said the man next to me. 'No,' I said, 'no.'
'Ninety-two tarsks!' called a man. 'Ninety-Four!' called another.I have ninety-four tarks,' called the auctioneer. 'I prepare to close my hands,' called the auctioneer.'Ninety-eight!' I cried out suddenly. I was startled to hear my own voice. The girl lifted her head dully.
'Ninety-eight, I have ninety-eight!' called the auctioneer. 'Do I heard more? Do I hear more?'
There was silence. 'I prepared to close my hand,' said the auctioneer. 'I close my hand!'
I owned Miss Henderson.
10. We Leave the Sales Barn of Lysander; Miss Henderson Will Share my Lodgings
Miss Henderson was thrust from the block. I made my way toward the foot of the block. My head seemed to swim. I was scarcely conscious of my movments. I moved as through in a dream.
'Jason?' she asked, from within the bars of the holding cage at the right of the sales block. Already her left ankle had been shackled. 'Jason?' I handed the receipt to the cate attendant. At the table I had paid ninety-eight tarsks.
I saw the sales disk removed from her collar and put ina small, wooden box. I saw the shackle removed from her ankle. I saw the door to the cage open and saw her pushed forth, before me.
'Do you not know enough to kneel before your master?' asked the attendant. Swiftly she knelt.
I lifted her to her feet and held her in my arms. 'Is it you Jason?' she whispered. 'Is it truly you?' 'Yes,' I said, 'it is I.'
She began to weep and I held her close to me. She shuddered inmy arms. She sobbed. I felt her tears through my tunic. 'Jacon,' she sobbed, 'Jason, Jason.'
I held her to me and caressed her head. 'I am so happy,' she said. 'I am so happy!' 'yes,' I said, 'Yes.' I continued to caress her head, and hold her to me.
'You purchased me. You own me, Jason,' she said. 'I am your slave.' I scarcely understood what she was saying. 'I know that you will be strong with me, but I will try to serve you well,' she said.
'What are you saying?' I asked. 'I will try to be pleasing to you,' she said. 'I do not want to be whipped. 'What are you saying?' I asked.
She drew back a bit in my arms and lifted her head. there were tears in her eyes. Her lips trembled. She seemed incredibly happy. 'I remember the girl at the shop of Philebus, in Ar,' she said, 'she who, wrists bound, was neck-leashed to the ring. Doubtless I now, too, as the mood seizes you, now that you own me, will be subjected to such ruthless and peremptory considerations. Doubtless you will respect my will no more than hers and rape me too when it pleases you.'
I looked at her puzzled.
She again put her head against me, pressing her cheek against my shoulder. 'All the things that youmay have wanted to do with me.' she said, 'you may now do. Everything that you may have wanted from a woman, I must now give. You may do with me as you please. I must obey you in all things.' She lifted her head again. There were tears in her eyes. 'Show me no mercy,' she said. 'See that I serve you well.'
'Key!' I cried. 'Key!' 'What will you name me?' she asked. 'Key!' I cried. 'Key?' she asked. 'Master?'
The key to the sales collar was placed in my hand by one of the cage attendants. I saw the snug fit of the steel on her throat. It was incredibly exciting. She could not remove it. Then sweating, getting a grip on myself, hurriedly, fumblng, I thrust the tiny key into the lock. 'Master?' she asked frightened.
'Do not call me Master!' I said, almost shouting. My voice choked. Men looked at us.
I turned the key and opened the tiny, heavy, single-action, seven-bolt lock on the collar. Each of the bolts is said to stand for one of the letters in the spelling of 'Kajjira', the most common Gorean expression for a slave girl.
'Where is your collar for me?' she asked. 'I have no collar for you ' I said. 'Master?' she asked. 'Do not call me Master,' I said. 'Yes, Master,' she said. 'I mean, yes Jason!'
I put my hands on the collar to tear if from her throat. But she clutched at the collar, holding it on hre throat. 'Master?' she asked, 'Jason?' 'You are a woman of Earth,' I said. 'You know how to behave and act.' 'I do not understand,' she said.
'Do not speak to me of pleasing me,' I said. 'Do not speak to me of pleasing me or serving me.' 'But I am a slave,' she said,'and you own me!' No,' I said. 'I am branded,' she said. 'It is nothing,' I said. 'Be a girl and wear a brand,' she said,' and you will see if it is nothing!' 'It is not your fault you are branded,' I said. 'But it is the fault of men,' she said, 'and I am nonetheless branded.'
I went to pull the collar from her ghroat and again her small hands tightened on it. 'You own me,' she said. 'What are you going to do with me?'
'Free you,' I said. 'I will give you what your heart most desires, your total liberation and freedom!' She looked at me aghast. I pulled away the collar and flung it, the key in the lock, to the side. 'You do not want me,' she whispered. 'Have no fear,' I said. 'I will not take advantage of you, nor abuse you, nor exploit you. You will be accorded all dignity and respect. In all things you will be my full and lovely equal.' Then I realized I had made an error. 'Excuse me,' I said. 'I did not mean to demean you. I did not mean to say 'lovely''
'You will be in all things, simply, and straight forwardly, my equal.'How can a slave be the equal of her master?' she asked. 'You are free,' I told her. 'I might have been brought by a Gorean men,' she said. 'One who might have treasured me, and cherished me, and made me serve him well, and used me richly.'
'I have freed you,' I said. 'Are you not happy?' I asked, puzzled. 'I am naked,' she said. 'Forgive me,' I cried. Quickly I hurried to one of the cage attendants. For a tarsk bit I purchased one of the discarded sheets torn from the slave beauties who were still being sold from the block.
I hurried back to the girl and stood before her, the sheet in my hand. For the briefest instant I felt sick. She was so beautiful. Should I have marched her through the streets of Victoria naked, an exhibited slave, for my own joy, that of her master and that men might rejoice in her beauty and call out to me their congratulation, commending me on the splendid fortune that was mine, that of having such a woman in my total power?
'Please,' she said. I stepped more closly to her and staqnding before her, held the sheet behind her, preparing to draw it about her. 'Do not look at me, you lustful beast,' she said. 'Cover me quickly!'
Swiftly I drew the sheet about her and she, from within it, clutched it even more closely about herself. I could see, as she had gathered the sheet, the outline of her small fists beneath it.
'Do not look at my calves and ankles,' she said, 'please.'Forgive me,' I said. 'Let us hurry from this place.'
'Yes,' she said, 'it is offensive, I smell here the stinking of slaves.' Quickly we left the sales barn of Lysander.
'Where do you live?' she asked. 'I have taken a small room near the wharves,' I said. 'I too will need a room.' she said. 'I cannot afford much,' I said. 'Then we shall manage to divide the room,' she said, 'somehow with a screen or partition of some sort.'
'Of course,' I said. 'You must too go out and purchse me clothing,' she said. 'I cannot wear a sheet.' 'What about a slave tunic?' I asked. 'Do not jest, Jason,' she said. 'It is in this direction,' I said, indicating a streete leading toward the river front.
'I have no money,' she said. 'And I have no Home Stone. 'What is that?' she asked.
We heard the sound of a bell, and then a moment laters, that of coins in a metal box. A girl in a brown rag, slve, emerged from the shodows. About her neck, chained there was a bronze bell, hollow, lattish with sloping sides, with a flat top and ring, and a slotted, metal coin box, locked.Swiftly she knelt before me. She lifted her head. 'Have me for a tarsk bit,' Master,' she begged. Her hands were braceleted behind her back.
'No,' I told her. 'Get away you filthy thing,' said Miss Henderson. 'If I do not return with the equivalent of a
