'Is it so wrong for her to know that her mother is a hot slut?' I asked. 'Please,' she begged.
'You are, you know,' I said, commending her.
'I can't help it!' she wept.
'You are like a she-sleen in heat,' I said. 'You squirm well. You are almost as hot as a slave. It is interesting to consider what you might be like when truly in bondage.'
'Please,' she wept.
'You belong in a collar,' I said.
'I must try to resist,' she whispered tensely.
'You could, instead, of course,' I said, 'provide your daughter with an instructive exhibition of how a female can give incredible rapture to a man. She might profit from this lesson, carrying it to her advantage into slavery with her. You might even give her your impression, as far as your current understandings of such things might go, of such things as will soon be expected of her, of how a slave might respond to a master.'
'If you take me,' she said, 'I will remain inert. I will not participate in your pleasure.'
'You do not seem very inert to me,' I said.
She squirmed.
'Was that a threat?' I asked. I lifted her head up by the hair, with both hands. The padlock on the collar swung free. I could dash her brains out on the marble bench.
'No,' she said. 'No, Master!'
I let her put her head down. The padlock again lay on the marble bench. There was a sound from the chains on her wrists. Beneath the bench the chain linking her ankles moved on the floor of the Semnium.
'There are many ways to take a woman,' I said. 'All of them are pleasurable. Much depends on the situation, and the time of day, and the preferences of the master. If you think that the pleasure of the man is inextricably linked with the pleasure of the woman you are naA?ve. That is a common misunderstanding of the free woman. That is much (pg.194) like thinking that the fruit cannot be enjoyed if it has not first begged to be plucked from the tree. That is simply not true. One can simply take it and enjoy it. Indeed, there is something to be said for such takings. In them one simply imposes one's will upon the helpless other. In them one senses imperiousness and power. Those who have felt such things know their value.'
'I am yours to do with as you wish,' she said, 'and you know it well.' 'I wonder if I should force you to yield,' I mused.
She lay quietly now, tense, muchly aroused, not knowing what my decision would be. Whatever it was, helpless as she was, she would abide it.
Her wrists suddenly jerked up, and were then stopped by the chain. The chain under the bench, on her ankles, moved, too, as her feet moved under the bench. 'Lie still,' I told her.
I then began, with care, and exquisite delicacy, not hurrying, to exploit her profound needs, and the remarkable vitality of her body. I thought she would, in time, make a splendid slave. It would be a lucky fellow, who would have her in his collar.
'He is making me yield!' she said.
I continued to draw her gently, and as implacably as though she were bound and on a leash, up the long stairwell of her need and helplessness. It was as though, then, that I had brought her, whimpering and needful, with me, again in the Gorean fashion, down a long, patient, narrow-walled, heavily carpeted corridor, one in which her bare feet could feel the deep, soft piling of the carpeting, and through a heavy, barred door, one which I had locked behind me, showing her that there was no escape for her, and had then put her, mine, to her place at the foot of my couch.
'Take me! she cried. 'I beg you to take me!
'I wonder if I should force you to yield,' I said.
'I beg to yield! she wept.
'Mother!' cried the girl.
'But your daughter is present,' I reminded her.
'I beg to yield! she wept, 'I beg to yield!' 'No, Mother!' cried the girl. 'Do not permit him to so degrade you!' 'Be silent,' wept the mother. 'He has put me in his power.'
'When you are instructed to do so,' I said, 'you will yield.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'Do not yield, Mother!' cried the girl.
'You will now yield,' I told her.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
I now rolled again in my blankets. It was an Ahn or so until dawn. I must try to catch a bit of sleep. I felt content. I felt good. The female on the bench had now been returned to the common chain. She had been the last placed on that bench this night. When I had finished with her I had sat for few Ehn on the bench, beside her, and had put my hand down before her. She had licked and kissed it, in gratitude, the padlock on her collar moving gently on the marble. I gathered that she had desperately needed what I had done to her. This was particularly interesting, as she was not even, as yet, a slave.
'What a slut your are! the daughter whispered chidingly, angrily, to her mother. Her mother now lay near her, on her side, her legs drawn up.
'Yes, my daughter,' said the mother.
'You were like a slave!' said the daughter.
'I will soon be a slave, truly,' said the mother, 'and so, too, do not forget, will you, my darling daughter.'
'I do not respect you any longer,' said the daughter. 'You do not deserve respect any longer.'
'I do not ask for your respect,' said the woman. 'Neither do I need it, nor any longer want it. There are things better and deeper than respect. That I have now learned. Too, when we are both enslaved, neither of us will be entitled to that commodity. Our conditions then, I assure you, will be far deeper and more biological than respect. I ask, rather, your understanding, and a little love.' 'I hate you!' cried the girl. 'As you will,' said the woman.
Suddenly the daughter lashed out and struck her. The mother cried out, softly, and drew her legs up more, but did not attempt to defend herself, nor to return the blow.
'Hateful slut! hissed the daughter.
'Is it so hard for you to understand that I, like you am a female,' asked the mother, 'only that, and one now, like you, naked, and in a collar?'
'Slut!' hissed the daughter.
'Are you angry,' asked the woman, 'that some men might prefer me to you?' 'No!' said the daughter, intensely.
'Did you wish it was you, and not I, who was chained on your belly to the bench, helplessly put out for the pleasure of strangers?'
'No!' she said angrily.
'Are you truly so jealous of me?' asked the woman.
'No, no!' said the daughter, almost crying out, wildly.
'Be silent,' said another woman on the chain. 'You will get us all whipped.' 'Mother,' whispered the girl. 'I am chained, and naked, and afraid.' 'Of course you are, my dear,' said the woman. She then sat up. 'Come here, sweet,' she said. She took her daughter gently in her arms, and held her head against her shoulder.
'What is to become of us?' asked the girl.
'We are to become slaves,' said the woman softly, kissing her gently on the side of the head.
'Men will have their way with us, fully,' whispered the girl.
'Of course,' said the mother.
'We will exist merely for their service and pleasure,' said the girl.
'Yes,' said the mother, kissing her.
'I want it, Mother,' whispered the girl.
'I know,' said the mother, soothingly.
'How terrible I am,' whispered the girl.
'No, no, you are not,' smiled the mother, caressing the girl's head. 'Are we slaves, Mother?' asked the
