'Its supposition?' she asked.
'That I am a man of Earth, and you a woman of Earth,' I said.
'Surely we are of Earth!' she said.
'It is true that our planet of origin is Earth,' I said. 'Is that all you have in mind?'
'No,' she said.
'What else?' I asked.
'I do not know,' she said. 'It is hard to speak to you when I am stripped and kneeling!'
'Our realities have now changed,' I said. 'We are now of Gor.'
'No!' she said.
'You lost the entitlements and prerogatives of the woman of Earth when, in a Gorean slave pen, your lovely thigh was branded.'
'Please do not speak so explicitly of my body,' she said.
'I shall do as I please,' I said.
She put her head down, not responding.
'You were then only a girl of Gor, and a slave,' I said.
She looked up, angrily. 'And I seem to recall,' I said, 'that on the Street of the Writhing Slave, you cried out, confessing to me, that she in my arms was now naught but a Gorean slave girl.'
She looked at me, angrily. She bit her lip.
'And, as I recall,' I said, 'she cried herself mine.'
She looked at me, in fury.
'Have you forgotten?' I asked.
'No,' she said. I was pleased to see that she was too shrewd to lie to me.
'But however you are pleased to view these matters,' I said, 'it makes little difference to me, whether we think of ourselves as being of Earth or Gor.' I looked at her, naked before me. I fingered the slave whip. 'Our realities, in either case,' I pointed out, 'remain much as they are.'
'As an Earth man could own an Earth woman, you could own me on Gor?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'May I get to my feet?' she asked.
'No,' I told her.
'You cannot own me!' she cried.
I did not deign to respond to so foolish an assertion. Did she not know that she was a branded, collared Gorean slave girl?
'Oh, I know you could own me,' she laughed, uneasily, 'but I know that you will not choose to own me.'
'Why not?' I asked.
'You knew me from Earth,' she said.
'That will make the owning of you all the more delicious,' I said.
''Delicious'?' she said.
'Yes, 'delicious',' I said, 'my beauty.'
' _Your_ beauty? ' she asked.
'Yes,' I said, ' _my_ beauty. '
'You speak of me as though I were a slave,' she said, resentfully.
'You are a slave,' I told her.
'But you will free me!' she cried.
'If that were my intention,' I said, 'it seems strange that I have just put my collar on you.'
'But that was surely a joke, a cruel jest,' she said.
'Feel the collar,' I said.
She lifted her hands to the collar.
'Is it heavy or uncomfortable?' I asked.
'No,' she said.
'It is a woman's collar,' I said. 'But it is close-fitting, of inflexible steel, and securely locked.'
'Yes,' she said.
'You have worn such collars before, have you not?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said.
'You are familiar with them, and their effectiveness?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said.
'Have I offered to remove it from you?' I asked.
'No,' she said.
'Can you remove it?' I asked.
She looked at me.
'Try,' I said.
Pathetically she struggled with the collar. Then, after a moment, she ceased her useless struggles. 'No,' she said, her fingers still hooked within the locked, obdurate band, 'I cannot remove it.'
'You may then fairly assume,' I suggested, 'that it has been fastened upon you.'
'I know it has been fastened upon me,' she cried. 'I cannot get it off!'
'What sort of collar is it?' I asked.
'A slave collar!' she cried.
'Precisely,' I said.
'Is it not a joke?' she whimpered.
'No,' I said.
She looked at me, frightened.
'I am beginning to grow impatient with you,' I said. 'Perhaps you should be lashed.'
She shrank back. 'But you have brought me to our house,' she said.
'Not our house,' I said, '_my_ house.'
'You would keep me as a slave in the very house where once I was free?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said. 'But I have made certain improvements, bars and certain security devices, for example. Also, I have put in a new and stouter kennel for you and a new slave ring at the foot of my couch.'
She looked at me, aghast.
'It is my hope that you will like them,' I said.
'What sort of man are you?' she asked.
'One who will own you, fully,' I told her.
'Then I am to understand,' she said, 'that it is possible that you might, in all seriousness, choose to keep me as your slave?'
'The choice is already made,' I said. 'It was made long ago.'
'And what did you choose?' she asked.
'Are you stupid?' I asked.
'I am not stupid,' she said.
'You speak as though you are stupid,' I said. I wondered if, truly, she was stupid. If so, it would lower her value, considerably. I was growing weary of her fencings, her inanities, her protests. Did she think she was a free woman? Perhaps she must soon be reminded that she was a slave. That could be easily done.
'This is Gor,' she said. 'The choice, of course, is yours, totally.' She looked at me, angrily. 'What did you choose for me?'
'What do you think?' I asked.
'Freedom,' she said, 'respect, honor, dignity.'
'No,' I said.
'— Slavery?' she asked.
'Yes, I said.
'— Full slavery?' she asked.
'Yes,' I told her, 'total and complete slavery.'
'I see that you must be taught the character and will, and the intelligence and power, of a woman of Earth,'
