'Yes, Master,' she said.
'And you are such a girl,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'I am now going to put you with the others,' I said. I stood up, thrusting theblankets to one side. She drew her legs up, feeling the coldness of the air. Ilooked down at her, she looking up at me. She was very beautiful.
'I am at your feet,' she said.
'How do you feel?' I asked.
'Very feminine, very female,' she said.
'How do you explain these feelings?' I asked.
'That I am a woman, at the feet of a strong man,' she said, 'one who dominatesme, one who masters me, one whom I must obey.'
'You do not speak like a woman of Earth,' I said.
'I have learned much on Gor,' she said, 'and I have learned much this night.'
I looked down at her, arms folded.
She put out her fingers, touching the dark blankets. Then, spinning, she lookedup at me. 'It is where we belong, isn't it, Master?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'I have always known it in my heart,' she said, 'but I never thought it wouldcome true.'
I went to pick up her tunic. I felt the blades of wet, cool grass cut at myankles. I tossed her the tunic. She knelt, holding it. It was tiny, in herhands. On it, dark and wet, moist in its fibers, were the marks of dew.
She clutched the tunic, looking at me. She did not draw it on.
'I am no longer a virgin, Master,' she said.
'That is known to me, I assure you,' I said.
'I am now only a full and opened slave,' she said, 'no different from othergirls, one, like them, readily available at the master's least desire.'
'Yes,' I said.
'I am not sore, Master,' she said.
I nodded.
'But that does not make any difference, does it?' she asked.
'No,' I said.
'Master,' she whispered.
'Perhaps now you should garb yourself,' I said.
'This is garb?' she asked, smiling, holding out the tunic. 'It is scarcely ascanty rag.'
'It leaves little doubt as to your charms,' I admitted.
'It does not even have a nether closure,' she said.
'It is not supposed to,' I said. 'Do you know why?'
'That I may be reminded that I am a slave,' she smiled, 'that my vulnerabilitymay be heightened, that I may be invaluable to masters.'
'Ginger and Evelyn have taught you that,' I said.
'They have taught us many things,' she said.
'What about intimate secrets of slave love-making?' I asked.
'No, Master,' she said.
'The little she-sleen are doubtless guarding such secrets from you,' I said. 'Ishall speak to Grunt in the morning. It will not prove to be in their interestto persist in this particular reticence.'
'Yes, Master,' she said, frightened.
'They will teach you, and the other jewels on the coffle, all they can, andquickly,' I said. 'Failure will be cause for severe discipline.'
'Yes, Master,' she whispered.
'An ignorant free woman is a commonplace,' I said. 'An ignorant slave is anabsurdity.'
'You mean I am actually to be taught how to please man, trained?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said, 'trained, as the lovely animal you are.'
She looked at me, frightened.
'And I advise you to learn your lessons well,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'You are doubtless familiar, from your former world, with arts such as sewingand cooking, commonly thought appropriate for women,' I said.
'Of course, Master,' she said.
'Can you cook and sew?' I asked.
'No, Master,' she said. 'Such arts, I thought, were for lower women.'
'You will learn them,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'But beyond such arts as cooking and sewing, arts commonly thought appropriatefor women, arts with which you are familiar, there are, obviously, many otherarts. It should thus come as no surprise to you that among these other should becertain delicate, delicious and intimate arts, particularly appropriate to thefemale slave.'
'I suppose not, Master,' she said.
'You are not a wastrel free woman,' I said. 'You are a slave. You must earn yourkeep.'
She trembled.
'Why do you think you were purchased?' I asked.
She put her small hand before her mouth, fearfully.
'Take your hand away from your mouth,' I said. 'I would see the lips of theslave.'
Swiftly she lowered her hand.
'Straighten your back,' I said.
She did so.
'The free woman,' I said, 'lies down, and waits to see what will happen. Thefemale slave kneels beside her master, and begs to please him. The free womandeems it sufficient that she should exist, the slave girl, on the other hand, isexpected not only to exist, but to excel; indeed, she fears only, commonly, thatshe may not be sufficiently marvelous for her master. It is little wonder thatmost men find the free woman, in her inertness, her ignorance and arrogance,boring. It is little wonder that most men prefer to order her rival to theirfurs, the helpless, collared, curvaceous, lascivious, feminine slave.'
'I was once a free woman,' said the girl.
'There is hope for the free woman,' I said. 'She may put in a collar, andstripped, and made subject to the whip. She may then, enslaved, be trained, too,for the pleasure of men.'
'Yes, Master,' whispered the girl.
'Training, then, should not come as a surprise to you,' I said. 'It is quitenatural for female slaves to be given training.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'Expect, then, to be trained,' I said.
'I shall, Master,' she said.
I regarded her.
Suddenly she flung herself on her belly across the dark blankets. She reached tomy left ankle and holding it with her small hands, began to kiss at my foot.
'Slaves may beg to please their masters, may they not?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'I beg to please my Master,' she said. Her lips were warm and soft on my foot.
'I am not your master,' I said.
'All free men are my masters,' she said, 'as all free women are my mistresses.'
'That is true,' I granted her.
'I beg to please you, as my Master,' she said, 'and, indeed, tonight, in theseblankets, you are my master, for
