'Yes, Master,' I said. 'I am a virgin!'
he then seemed to have drawn back for a time, perhaps kneeling there, thinking. I do not think, now, he had believed that I was really a virgin, in spite of the attestation, and such, and I do not think either that my virginity had really been of great interest to him, whether or not it was actual. He had been angry, I now think, that I had been behaving in a timid, or virginal, fashion with him, perhaps to secure some gentleness of treatment, when I was not really a virgin at all. Perhaps mollified then to some extent by my placatory behavior in kissing the whip he had decided to take the time to make test of my virginity rather than simply and with terrible force utilizing me, moving aside whatever obstacle, if any, might have attempted to impede the progression of his mastery. Master?' I asked.
To my surprise, then, I felt a shackle put on my left ankle. he then removed the manacles which had been on my wrists. I heard the whip cast to the side. 'Master?' I asked. I knelt, rubbing my wrists.
He then, apparently crouching near me, took me with extreme gentleness into his arms. I began to tremble. I felt his lips at the left side of my neck, above the steel collar locked there. 'I am afraid, Master,' I whispered.
He soothed me with a kiss on the shoulder. I was grateful, but, too, I could feel the heat of his breath there, it making me uneasy, and disturbing me, and I could sense the strength of his arms.
'Oh, master,' I sobbed. 'Master!'
One of his hands was behind my back. With the other hand he indicated I should rise up a bit, and I did so, and he placed the hand then behind my knees. He then, lifting me, and gently inclining me backwards, supporting me with his hand behind my back, lowered me gently to the furs. I then lay there, on my back, in the hood, before him.
I felt his hands lift up my right ankle, that which did not wear the shackle. I felt his lips on my ankle. his hands were very strong. I tried to pull back a bit, uneasily, but could not do so. He continued to hold my ankle, and kiss my leg. I moved my left ankle, in its shackle. I heard the tiny sounds of the links of the chain, running between the shackle and its ring. I pulled back my left ankle, and lifted it, frightened, alarmed by the sensations I was beginning to feel, and learned what limitations had been placed on its movements, imposed by the metal impedimenta whose prisoner I was. I could not leave the alcove of course, but I had been permitted slack, enough to kick, it seems, as in the throes of passion or, helplessly, as though to hold on for dear life, to clench my legs about a master' s legs or, if I were pulled down, closer to the ring, his body. His touches and kisses were now disturbing me, but he was very gentle. 'Oh, Master!' I said.
The flesh behind the knee and above it was very sensitive.
He was patient.
'Thank you, Maser,' I said, gratefully.
Over the next quarter of an hour or so he also addressed his attentions to my other leg, but desisted in his ministrations when he had come midway up the interior of my thighs.
'Master!' I breathed.
Then he was kissing my hands, their backs, and kissing and licking the palms, and then moving up the interiors of the wrists, and forearms. In another quarter of an hour or so, he had come again to my neck, near the collar, where he had first kissed me, and then, slowly, kissed my shoulders. I lay there, frightened, wanting to respond. I sensed his lips near mine, by the feel of his breath. I lifted my head a little, and kissed him, timidly, gratefully. Then I felt his head, and hair, below my chin. 'Ohh,' I said. Then he kissed and licked, and caressed me about the sides, and back. 'Ah,' he said, appreciatively was not really responding to him, or at least in no overt way I was really aware of, but I think he did not really mind this, or, at the time, expecting anything much different. I think he did find me beautiful. And I think he took pride in the simple handling of such a slave.
Then he was kissing me about my hips and belly, and then, much lower, above the midpoint of the interior of my thighs.
'Master,' I said.
'Oh!' I said. 'Oh!'
His hands, and his tongue, and his kisses, were unbelievable! Suddenly I lifted my hips to him. 'Master!' I begged. 'Master!'
His large hands were on me, gripping me, holding me an inch to two above the furs. I felt his thumbs. They pressed deeply into me, at the sides of my belly, but did not hurt me. They only held me fixed in place. I could feel the strength of him. I could not even think of escaping that grip.
'Master!' I begged.
I knew then that I belonged in a collar, and so, too doubtless, did he. 'Oh!' he said, frightened. I was tense, waiting. 'Oh,' I said, softly, frightened.
He was so strong!
'Oh!' I said, softly.
He kissed me, gently, holding me.
'It' s done,' I whispered. 'It' s done!'
He kissed me again.
What a fool I am, I thought to myself, and what a fool he must think me. Of course, it has been done!
I had sensed the parting of that tissue, its giving way, but it had not hurt. I had expected it to hurt. It had not hurt!
'I am longer special,' I said. 'I am now only another girl.'
He laughed.
What a small thing it had been! There had been nothing to it! What an absurdity to be concerned over so small a thing, so trivial a thing, I thought. I knew that in some women, of course, the matter was not so simple. I was pleased, and relieved, accordingly, that in my case it had all happened so quickly, so simply, so painlessly.
He kissed me again.
I had been opened, I though. I was now 'red silk!'
I was still, of course, locked in his arms. I felt his power and surgency. He then began to make use of me.
'Master!' I gasped.
Perhaps his patience was then at the end, or perhaps he felt he had waited long enough, or perhaps he found me, suddenly, too beautiful to resist. I did not know, but he then began, with apparently little regard for me, to content himself.
I clung to him, startled.
It may be, of course, that this was merely another kindness on his part, that I be now reminded of my status, that I wore a collar, that I was naught but a slave, I did not know.
'Yes, Master!' I whispered.
I suspect I was not the first girl he had opened. He realized, I think, as I did not, at that time, that at this time there would be severe limitations on my capacity to respond to him, limitations finding herself the victim of helpless slave needs.
'Master!' I cried.
I clung to him. I jerked my legs. I felt the chain on my left ankle. What can we be but vessels of pleasure to such brutes, I thought. To be sure, the slave must sometimes expect to be used with complete unilaterally. This feature is attendant on her condition. She is, after all, only a slave. Most slaves, incidentally, welcome this, for they treasure their bondage, many of them dearly than their life, and they know that without it, and such things, they cannot be true slaves. Even such a service, perhaps paradoxically, they find exciting and fulfilling. Too, after one has been a slave for a time, it is difficult to be touched by a man without becoming responsive, and extremely so. Thus a girl is often grateful for her master' s touch, and weeps with pleasure in her usage, even when he is not concerned in the least with her. This is a part of her helplessness, and having been made the prisoner of her slave needs.
'Ah,' he said, as though interested.
Could I actually be responding to him, this brute who had opened me in a Gorean tavern, this monster who had but a moment ago red-silked me!
'Oh, Master!' I whispered, startled.
Oh, he had been patient, he had been kind, I knew. He could have cuffed me and torn me open in an instant
