'Do you recall, long ago, in the restaurant, when I spoke to you, daringly, I think, for a then-unenslaved slave, of the dreams, strange then to my mind, which I had been having?'
'I recall,' I said.
'I had often then dreamed, as I recounted to you, and as you will perhaps remember, that I was a female slave, that I was kept in rags or naked, that a steel collar had been put on my neck, that I had been branded, and that I was subject to discipline-and that I must serve a man.'
'I remember,' I said.
'There was one thing about those dreams, dear Master,' she said, 'which I did not dare to tell you.'
'What was that?' I asked. I recalled that I had suspected, from certain subtle cues, and silences, that she hard not fully expressed herself to me on that occasion.
She looked down.
'What was it?' I asked.
She looked up. 'That the man I must serve was always the same,' she said.
'Yes?' I said.
'And that he was you, my Master,' she said.
I took her gently in my arms.
'You see, my Master,' she said, 'you are, for me, a dream come true.'
'And you, for me, Sweet Slave,' I said, 'are, too, a dream come true.'
'Master?' she asked.
'Many times,' I said, 'did I fantasize you thusly, in my arms, an owned slave, mine to do with as I pleased.'
'I am here now, my Master,' she said.
'I know,' I said.
'And it is where I want to be,' she said.
I looked at her, in the light of the ravishment lamp.
'Gone now,' she whispered, 'are the pains and shames of Earth.'
I kissed her, gently.
'How strange I once would have thought it, on Earth, so long ago,' she said, 'had I been told that I would find my fulfillment only on a distant world-and chained by the neck to the slave ring of a master.'
'You are a woman,' I told her.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
I then caressed her gently into ecstasy.
