other hand, it is simply that we are human, so very, very human. In the hood, of course, it is hard to know if a man is looking at you or not. It is best to assume, naturally, that one is always doing so. I had been lax. I had been careless. I had been foolish.
I felt a man' s hand on my arm. 'This way,' he said.
That is one of the disadvantages of being last in the coffle, incidentally. It is easiest to strike one in that position. Too, as I, locked in my hood, had foolishly permitted to slip my mind, there is often a guard there, towards its end.
'Stand here,' said a man.
I should have kept myself beautiful, particularly here, in the open, where there were men about.
The backs of my calves still stung.
I hoped I would not be struck again. I was trying to stand well.
I then felt myself lifted up, lightly, in the hood, the chain still on my neck, in a man' s arms, his hands thusly supporting me, one beneath the back of my knees and the other behind my back, and was handed up to another man, who then put me down, kneeling, on a higher, metal surface. I heard the snorting of some beast. I did not know what it was. I did not think it was a horse or ox. It was perhaps some draft animal native to this world. It frightened me. The surface seemed to move a bit under me. There was a girl on my right, linked to me by her neck chain, she who had preceded me on the coffle. No girl was on my left. I was the last on the coffle. I heard a body, doubtless that of the fellow to whom I had been handed, descend from the surface. I then, a moment later, heard the closing, heavy and metallic, of a door or gate. I even felt the vibration of this metal flooring, on my knees and toes. I then heard a rattle of chain, the thrusting home of a heavy bolt and the closure of what sounded like a heavy, dangling padlock, one with a bolt perhaps a half-inch thick. I had seen many such in the house. Several of our kennels, where our blankets and pans of water were kept, had been closed with similar devices. My own kennel, on the other hand, had been closed with two locks intrinsic to the door itself. I could still feel the air on my body so I thought we were not in a solid-sided enclosure, but, probably, a cage. I put back my head. I could then feel the bars. They were heavy, about an inch or an inch-and-a-half thick. I would have supposed, and about three inches apart. This cage, I gathered, from the height of the surface, and its movement, was mounted on a wagon.
I tried to move the leather ball around a bit in my mouth, with my tongue. I managed to adjust it a little, so it was a bit more comfortable. I then heard the sliding of canvas, and its being pulled down and adjusted, and the sound of various buckles. The cage was being covered.
In a moment then there was a cry to some animal and the shaking of a harness. There was also the snapping of a whip. That sound frightened me. I had learned to know it better than I cared to I was thrown off balance a little to my left as the vehicle began to move. It seemed to me we were being held in a great deal of security. We were gagged and hooded; we were stripped, our brands thusly bared; our wrists were manacled behind our backs; and we were attached to one another, in coffle, by neck chains. Beyond this we were caged, and the cage, too, was covered. That may have been, of course, that we not attract too much attention, naked slaves being transported through streets. I wondered if there were any free women on this world. I had never seen one. To be sure, slave girls on this world were often held in great security. One of the most significant securities, of course, was their collars, marking them unmistakably as slaves, and, usually, identifying their masters. It seemed to please these men, so proud, so strong, so uncompromising, so imperious, to keep us in bonds, chains and such. Our strongest bond, of course, that which would hold us if none other, that which we could never hope to break, was our condition itself, that we were slaves. Still, beyond these things it seemed to me that there might be something a little mysterious, if not excessive, in the careful way we were bring treated, handled and moved. I had gathered that it was not really unusual, particularly in certain places, though in others it was apparently regarded as being tactless or vulgar, for slaves to be marched naked, in coffle, through the streets, for example, for their own edification or instruction, that they be helped to understand that they are truly slaves, as the case might be, as a matter of simple convenience. Certainly they were often kept this way, I had been given to understand, on highway and road treks, if only to protect their tunics from sweat and dust. And there seemed little objection anywhere to marching them through the streets in tunics or camisks, a narrow, poncholike garment. To be sure, they were generally transported naked, in closed wagons, their ankles chained to a central bar. But they were presumably not then gagged and hooded, or confined as closely as we. I did not understand these things. I did not question the will of masters, of course, for the will of masters, quite simply, is not to be questioned, but I was curious, or puzzled, to know why it was being done this way. Too, more interestingly, I did not even know where I was. I did not know were the house in which I had been trained was located. I did not even know the name of that house. I did not even know the name of its master. Now I was being taken from it, towards some equally unknown destination. None of the girls, too, as far as I could tell, were any the better informed then I. But whatever the explanation might be for these anomalies, if, anomalies there were, there was no doubt that I was now a slave. Teibar, who had been my captor, had seen to that.
To be sure, interestingly, I did not really object to these various things, neither to the anomalies they were, nor to what might be the more typical or standard subjugation, rigors and strictures, fierce and terrible though they might be, to which I was subjected. Though I would scarcely admit this to myself, I was thrilled to be branded and collared. I was thrilled to have been stripped, and gagged and hooded, and manacled, and put in neck coffle, by the will of men. I pleased that they had taken me in hand and, wishing to do so, had made me their slave. I was inutterably thrilled to be now absolutely and categorically subject, in the order of nature, to their uncompromising domination. It was for this sort of thing that I had longed all my life. It was for this reason, I thought, that I had so despised males of Earth, because they had permitted themselves to be deprived of the birthright of their manhood, because they would not see to it that I was put in, and kept in, my rightful place in nature, where I wanted in my heart to be. My beauty, I felt, belonged to them, if they were strong enough to take it, and put it where it belonged, at their feet. I had wanted to kneel before them, lovingly and worshipfully, and yield them my total submission. They had not been strong enough, however, I had been almost consumed with anguish, and filled with contempt for them, and tortured and torn by loneliness, hatred and misery. Then, to my amazement, I had found myself brought to this world. Here men had no such weakness. Here I found myself, in all my helpless womanhood, whether I was pleased about it or not, whether I wished it or, whether I willed it or not, at the feet of masters. No, I did not object to the collars and brands. They put my womanhood on me. I did not object to the will of men, and to their bonds. Such told me that I was theirs. I did not object to being kept in ignorance, as this was their will, and gave me further evidence that I was only their animal, and slave, as I wanted to be, and to such men, so marvelous and mighty, could be nothing else. Did we, on Earth, take our dogs and cars into our confidence? Similarly, though I did not want to feel their whips, and dreaded then terribly, the knowledge that I was subject to them, and that these men, such men, were fully ready to use them on me, and would, if I were not pleasing, was deeply moving, reassuring me of their mastery over me.
I knelt back on my heels. I moved a bit with the motion of the wagon. The chain moved a bit on my neck, lopping up to the throat of the girl on my right. It was hard to tell in the hood but I thought I detected the smell of salt air. We had now been in the wagon perhaps an hour.
It sounded now, judging from the sound of the metal-rimmed wheels, and felt, judging from the vibrations, like we were moving over cobblestones.
The back of my calves, where I had been struck, now felt better. That had really been foolish of me, standing in a slovenly manner in the coffle, when there might have been men about, and indeed, had been one, and with a whip. That I had been lashed, however, showed me that I was, in a way, important, and that men cared about me. I was a female. I made some sort of difference to them. They were genuinely interested in females, and liked them, and were concerned with them. They wanted us to be as charming and beautiful as we could be, and would, frankly, hold us accountable for such things. How many times, I wondered, had a man on Earth, irritated with an Earth woman, or girl, been tempted to seize her and say, pull gum from her mouth, or straighten her hair, or adjust her halter, or tell her to straighten her body or to change her posture, or to sit or kneel in a certain way, but, of course, had not done so? Here, however, men, I gathered, at least with women such as I, felt few reservations, inhibitions or compunctions, about taking immediate and often direct action in such matters. They tended to view us with a certain proprietary interest, even, in certain cases, with a certain possessive zeal and zest, and seemed determined to see to it that we were as marvelous as we could be. We were, after all, the females of their species.
I was now more sure than ever that I could smell salt air. We continued on our way. Once I heard a sort of
