I lay there, and thought about the feelings I had experienced. Putting aside occasional episodes of chagrin or shame, understandably contingent on my Earth conditioning, as I was faced with various indisputable evidences of my vitality and responsiveness, I had found myself subjected to an astonishing variety of mixed emotions and feelings. Sometimes I had been confused by the unfamiliarity of these feelings, and sometimes delighted, and intrigued. Too, sometimes I had felt a desperate longing for them to continue, and had been eager for them, and others, some charming, and subtle, and some almost overpowering, making me feel weak, and held, to surface in me, like wonders, some bursting up, some rising slowly, in my depths. Too, sometimes I had felt genuine fear, as I seemed to sense, far off, feelings and emotions so incredible and overwhelming that I knew I would be helpless in their grasp, feelings that would be as commanding and irresistible to me as the movements of the earth and the tides of the sea. In short, I was on the brink of learning my femaleness. To be sure, nothing had been done to me at that time, I had not realized something of great importance, namely, how my body and nervous system could change under its uses, how my helplessness and needs could deepen, increase and intensify, how they could grow upon me and make me their prisoner. Although I was now almost ready, as Ina had put it, shocking me at the time 'to beg and scratch for it,' I still had no clear idea as to the extent to which my belly and body could be gripped by 'slave need.' I still had no clear understanding as to how it was that a girl could bruise herself against the bars of her cage, trying to touch a guard, or crawl naked on her belly to a hated master, if only to feel the blow of his hand or foot. In short, though I had come a thousand miles from the naA?ve girl in the library, I still had no understanding, really, of slave sex. I had not yet experienced even a small slave orgasm. But in the context of these reflections, seemingly focused primarily on simple feelings and sensations, let me reemphasize the wholeness of the context. It is in the slave' s life as a whole that these things, so overwhelmingly, find their place. The life of the slave is an entire modality of being, and this modality of being enhances the feelings and sensations just as, in turn, the feelings and sensations enhance and enrich the modality of being. The life of the female slave is a consistent, totalistic and indissoluble whole.
I heard someone part the curtains.
I was frightened.
Someone was there.
I pressed down into the furs, on my belly. Then, it frightening me, and embarrassing me at the time, I felt an involuntary movement, the subtle lifting, just a tiny bit, of my behind, in the furs. Then, swiftly, I lay even lower, more frightened, more closely, in the furs. I had once at a zoo, I recalled, seen a female animal, a female baboon, actually, frightened at the stalking, menacing, meaningful approach of a stern, dominant male, turn about and timidly offer herself to him. I had seen the same sort of behavior among chimpanzees. It is a form of placatory, female-submission behavior.
A man knelt or crouched near me. He felt my flanks. He had very strong hands. Again my body lifted itself, but this time, not so much in fear as in response to his touch.
'Interesting,' said Hendow, my master.
I whimpered and tried to hide lower in the furs.
'Do not be upset, slave,' he said. 'It is for just such things that I bought you.'
I felt the key thrust into the locks on the manacles, and they were removed from me. I was then turned to my back. the only bond I wore now was the half hood. 'Are you sore?' he asked.
'A little,' I said.
'Inside,' he said.
'A little,' I said.
My body, otherwise, though I would not feel it so much for a few hours, would be stiff here and there, and sore in places. I would discover, too, I had some bruises. Some of the men had treated me with great roughness. That was permissible. I was a slave.
I felt a chain belt put about my waist and padlocked shut at my navel. At the back of the belt, attached to it, was a pair of light manacles of the sort suitable for females, which I would learn are called 'slave bracelets.' 'Master?' I asked.
I did not understand why I was being braceleted, now.
'You will wear these at night,' he said, 'for three nights.'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'You will not be put out on the floor again,' he said, 'for three days.' 'Thank you, Master,' I said. I supposed that was what I should be saying. 'That will give you a chance to heal, if you need it, and, too, it will give you a chance to gather your thoughts together and to reflect upon your experiences.' 'Yes, Master,' I said, puzzled.
'You will spend your time during the day,' he said, 'as before, in the kitchen.' 'Yes, Master,' I said, apprehensively.
'Do not be afraid,' he said. 'You will be in the iron belt.'
'Now?' I asked. I was now, after all, red silk.
'Yes,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'Too,' he said, ' in the iron belt, and braceleted at night, and working in the kitchen, you will have a chance to simmer.'
'To simmer, Master?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said.
I did not understand him.
Then he picked me up, very gently, and carried me downstairs, to the basement, and my kennel. There, before my kennel, he put me in the iron belt. He then removed my hood. It seemed light there, even in the dimness of the basement. I saw that there was now a whole blanket, not just a part of one, in my kennel. 'Thank you for the blanket, Master,' I said.
'Crawl into the kennel,' he said. 'And lie down.'
I did so, and he covered me with the blanket, rather gently, I thought. 'Good night, Doreen,' he said.
'Good night, Master,' I said.
He then closed and locked the kennel door. I watched him through the bars as he went across the room, and blew out the small tharlarion-oil lamp there. He then went upstairs. Again I wore an iron belt. I did not understand why until I had slept and, well before dawn, awakened in the darkness. I squirmed. Then I pulled at the bracelets, futilely. I realized then, suddenly, feeling helpless, I would have to wait three days for a man' s touch.
12 The Floor
I knelt at the feet of the handsome fellow and kissed and licked about his ankles. I looked up at him. He was large and strong. 'I would be pleased,' I whispered, 'if master would see fit to take me to an alcove.'
'I am here,' said Tupita, squirming on her knees, nearby. 'Go away!' He looked down at me.
'My use is included already, in the price of master' s drink,' I said. 'I cost you nothing more.'
'Go away,' said Tupita.
'You are Doreen, who dances, aren' t you?' he said.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'Go away!' said Tupita.
'Be silent,' said the man to her.
'Yes, Master,' she said. 'Forgive me, Master.'
'But you do not dance tonight?' he asked.
'No, Master,' I said. 'Tonight I am only a paga slave.'
The red-silk ribbon was no longer on my collar. The girl wears it for only a week.
'I have seen you dance,' he said. 'You are quite good.'
'Thank you, Master,' I said.
'Quite good, indeed,' he mused.
'Let me dance for you, alone, in the alcove,' I whispered.
