'There are many fine Earth-girl names,' I said.
'Please, Master,' she said.
''Phyllis' is a lovely name,' I said.
'Name me,' she begged. 'Name me!'
''Tracy' and 'Stephanie', too,' I said, 'are lovely names.'
'Anything,' she said, hoarsely. 'Anything! Name me, I beg you. I cannot stand it! I must move! I beg to be named!' I felt her fingernails digging into my flesh. Her eyes were wild. 'Name me, my Master,' she whispered, begging, 'name me, name me, please, name me!'
'Very well,' I said, and began to move within her. Immediately she was clutching me and shuddering. She looked at me, wildly. Then she threw back her head, helplessly. 'I name you 'Beverly',' I said.
'I am Beverly!' she cried. 'I am Beverly!'
Then, in a few moments, she was sobbing, and clutching me. 'I am Beverly,' she sobbed. 'I am Beverly!' Then, after a time, still holding to me, she lay trembling in my arms. 'I am Beverly,' she whispered. Then, in a few minutes, she lay softly on her side on the furs, facing away from me, her knees drawn up. 'My Master has named me,' she said. 'I am Beverly.'
I stood up and looked down at her. She rolled to her back, and looked up at me.
'What is your name?' I asked.
'Beverly,' she said.
'I do not think you will forget your name,' I said.
'No, Master,' she smiled.
'Do not forget, either,' I said, 'that you wear it now as a mere slave name.'
'No, Master,' she said. 'I shall not forget.'
She knew that, as a slave, she had no more right to a name than a tarsk or sleen, or any other form of domestic animal. She then rolled to her stomach, and began to kiss my feet. Then, tenderly, she rose to her knees, still kissing my feet, and then began to kiss my ankles, and calves.
'I love you, Master,' she whispered. When she lifted her head, tears in her eyes, she seemed suddenly startled, troubled. She put up her hand to my left arm.
'Master,' she said, 'forgive me!' I have hurt Master!' There was blood on my arms, from the gouging of her nails, and blood at my left shoulder, from the cut of her teeth.
'It is nothing,' I told her.
She rose to her feet, and kissed the wounds. 'Am I to be punished, Master?' she asked.
'No,' I said. Masters are commonly indulgent of the uncontrollable spasms of their female slaves.
'Thank you, Master,' she said.
I then held her by the upper arms. She was so beautiful!
'Doubtless I must soon be released from the slave ring,' she said, 'that I may attend to my work.'
'Oh!' she cried, thrown brutally to the furs at the foot of the couch. She looked up at me, frightened, the chain on her neck.
'That decision is mine,' I said, 'not yours.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'Do you hear?' I asked.
'Yes, Master!' she said.
'Who hears?' I asked.
'Beverly!' she said.
'Who does Beverly hear?' I asked.
'Beverly hears her Master!' she said.
I then crouched down, and took her in my arms.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
It was pleasant to hold her, as a yielding slave.
'It is evening, Master,' she said, lying beside me.
'Yes,' I said.
I had refilled the ravishment lamp and then had had her relight it. She was beautiful in its soft light, lying on the furs, the heavy stone of the couch and the iron of the slave ring, to which she was still attached, behind her.
'All last night, and all today,' she said, 'you have kept me at your ring.'
'I have waited long to own you,' I told her.
'Yes, Master,' she said. She rolled onto her back, looking up at the beams in the ceiling. 'Callimachus has selected you to be his second in command, in the forces of the Vosk League,' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
'I am the slave, then, of an important man, am I not?' she asked.
'Perhaps,' I said, 'but remember that you are only his slave.'
'Yes, Master,' she said, 'that is well understood by this enslaved female.'
'You may serve me wine,' I said.
She reached to the wine, a sweet Ka-la-na of Ar, and filled the goblet to the third ring. Then, as I sat back against the couch, she knelt before me. She, head down, pressed the heavy metal goblet deep into her lower abdomen, and then she lifted it to her lips and, holding it with both hands, kissed it lingeringly and lovingly. Then, kneeling back on her heels she put down her head and, humbly, her arms extended, her head down between them, proffered me the goblet. 'Wine, Master?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said. I then took the goblet from her, and drank.
She lifted her head, and watched me.
'I think you know how to serve wine well,' I said.
'Master should know,' she laughed.
I indicated that she should approach me. 'Keep your hands on your thighs,' I told her.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
I then, crouching beside her, my hand in her hair, controlling her, gave her to drink from the goblet, letting her finish the last ring. I then gave her the goblet, and she put it to the side, with the wine vessel.
I then sat back again, against the foot of the couch.
She, kneeling to the side, in the lovely position of the pleasure slave, watched me.
'Lie down here,' I said, 'beside me.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
She lay beside me, in her chained softness, and beauty. She kissed me on the hip and then, with a rustle of chain, put her head down to the furs. 'Do I please Master?' she asked.
'You are not entirely displeasing,' I told her.
'That pleases me,' she said. She laughed.
'What is wrong?' I asked.
'Nothing,' she said. 'It is only that I thought it amusing. On Earth many boys, I think, would have liked to get me to their bed. But here, on Gor, you have not yet even permitted me to ascend to the surface of your couch.'
I smiled. She had served only at its foot, at the slave ring.
'Will Master permit me sometime to ascend his couch?' she asked.
'We shall see what progress you make in your slavery,' I said.
'I shall endeavor to make progress,' she said. A Gorean slave girl, incidentally, does not simply take a position on a couch as might a free person. Commonly she will kneel at its lower left side, or bottom, and then kiss its furs, or covers, after which she will crawl into it on her belly. Unless otherwise instructed she will remain near its foot, rather in the manner of a pet sleen. She may also, of course, be whipped or beaten to the couch, or forced to it, her arm twisted high, and painfully, behind her back, or carried to it, or thrown upon it, perhaps chained or bound.
'Master,' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
