I was silent.
'Some women do,' he said.
I did not speak.
'It is amusing then to me, sometimes,' he said, 'to abuse them, and make them, despite their will, cry out for my touch.'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'It pleases me to have them crawling on me on their belly, begging piteously to be used.'
'Yes, Master,' I whispered.
'Perhaps you find me gross and loathsome,' he speculated.
I trembled, head down.
'But is doesn' t matter,' he said. 'You are my slave.'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'And at so much as the snapping of my fingers, you will bring yourself running to me, obediently and warmly, desperate to please me.'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'But there is time enough for such things,' he said.
I was silent.
'I was not displeased that your performance on the block was as ambiguous as it was, toward the end of your sale,' he said.
'Master?' I asked.
'A kajira is occasionally entitled to terror,' he said.
'Thank you, Master,' I said, hesitantly.
'And it perhaps confused certain buyers,' he said, 'inhibiting them from submitting higher bids. I turned it thus to my profit.'
I kept my eyes down.
'Come closer,' he said.
I did so, on my knees, 'Ohh,' I said, touched by him. I leaned forward, tears in my eyes, pressing myself toward him, gross as he might be, my hands on the sides of the great chair in which he sat. I put my head down on his left knee. 'I thought so,' he said. 'Look up. Look into my eyes.'
I did so, frightened.
'Yes,' he said, looking into my eyes. 'You are a slave. That is all you are.' 'Yes, Master,' I whispered.
'Kneel back,' he said.
I knelt then, tears in my eyes.
'Keep your knees open,' he said.
'Oh, please, Master!' I begged.
His eyes were stern.
Immediately I open my knees, widely, as was appropriate for the type of slave I was, a pleasure slave.
'One might think almost,' he said, musingly, 'that you are not a virgin. It is interesting to speculate what you will be like when you have been adequately opened and regularly utilized.'
I kept my head down.
'It will probably not even be necessary to encourage you with the whip,' he said.
I did not dare to speak.
'But the whip will be always there, should you require refreshening on your status, or become to any degree less then perfectly pleasing,' he said. 'Yes, Master,' I said.
'You may have fooled others in your terror,' he said, 'but you did not fool me.' 'Master?' I asked 'Beneath the terror,' he said, 'I saw the beauty, and the slave.' I did not speak.
'I saw, too,' he said, 'the dancer, particularly in your transitions between the attitudes commanded of you in the slave paces. I knew then you were either a dancer, or had the makings of a dancer. Too, of course, your response to the slaver' s caress, later, was indicative. That, of course, would have been obvious even to a tharlarion.'
'Yes, Master,' I whispered, head down.
'But it was, of course,' he said, 'for you, a very poor, or limited, response, certainly one far below what might ordinarily have been expected from one with your sensitivity levels.'
I looked up at him, startled. How could he have known that?
'To a discerning eye,' he smiled, 'it was evident, in your subsequent movements, and certain tiny, fleeting expressions, though these were subtle things, as you were inwardly relieved, pleased at how well hidden, you thought, remained the real depth and urgency of your needs.'
I regarded him with horror.
'We are not going to have any secrets between us, are we?' he asked. 'No, Master!' I said, frightened. Before him I realized that it might be not only my body which was naked, but my mind and heart as well. I felt utterly exposed before this man, as only a slave can feel exposed to her master. 'Do not be frightened,' he said.
I trembled, uncontrollably. Too, I remembered his touch.
'In a man' s arms,' he said, 'you are the sort of woman who is so much alive, that you will be splendidly, utterly helpless.'
I sobbed, shuddering naked, in my collar before him.
'Do you think you will like Brundisium?' he asked.
'I think so, Master,' I whispered. I understood that Brundisium was one of the largest and busiest ports of this world. It was a commercial metropolis of sorts. I remembered in the slave wagon that several of the girls had hoped, desperately, not to be taken from this place. They had hoped fervently, it seemed, to wear their collars here. Ironically, it had been I, purchased in Market of Semris, a barbarian, who had been brought back to Brundisium. Many of my chain sisters, surely, would have envied me my good fortune. I was pleased enough to be here, from what I knew. Too, the city had seemed colorful and exciting to me, in my glimpses from the slave wagon. To be sure, at least one district through which we had passed in the wagon was still black with the residues of a great fire, one which had reportedly taken place in Se' Kara, some months ago. If I were never permitted outside the precincts of the tavern, of course, as I had not yet been, I did not think I would much enjoy the city. I had hopes, however, that I might, as several of the girls were now, eventually be granted such a lovely liberty. In such a matter, of course, the masters take little, if any, risk. The girls are collared and branded so there is never any doubt about what they are or where they belong. Too, in Brundisium, as with most Gorean cities, kajirae are not allowed outside the city gates unless in the keeping of a free person. In these peregrinations about the city, of course, the girls were sometimes expected to wear their master' s advertising on their tunics.
'Did you enjoy the trip here?' he asked.
'Master was kind,' I said, 'to provide us with blankets.'
We had spent the night of our sale in the cages located in the exit corridor. The next morning, at dawn, the cages had been opened, and we had been ordered forth, each to our own disposition. My hands had then been manacled behind my back, by my master' s man. He had then given me a handful of slave gruel, putting it in my mouth as I knelt before him, my wrists chained behind me. We were not fed by the house of Teibar, of Market of Semris, that morning, as we were no longer its responsibility. I was then gagged and hooded, utilizing the devices of the ball-gag, the straps, the leather covering, the buckles and lock, as I had been when first leaving the house of my training. There were very good reasons for this, as I later learned. I was to be transported by tarn basket. When a girl cannot see and cannot communicate, it is much easier to manage her. I was taken out into the courtyard, gagged, hooded and manacled. Then I was put on my belly in the dirt. I knew nothing about what was going on. Then I heard a succession of wild, startling sounds, like the snapping of great sheets, and it seemed I was in the midst of a whirlwind, mad, choking dust swirling up and about me. I tried to rise, but a man' s foot pressed me back to the dirt. I also heard a sudden, shrill, terrifying, piercing scream. It was not a human noise, but the cry of something terribly large and fierce. It could only be, I conjectured, some sort of giant bird. I lay trembling in the dirt, helpless, the man' s foot on my back. I would learn it was indeed a large bird, one called a 'tarn.' And, I would later learn, it was not even a warrior' s mount, bred for swiftness and aggressiveness, a war tarn, but a mere draft tarn. I had been gagged, and hooded and manacled. And put on my belly, because the first
