about eighteen inches long, and then cutting it off a bit below and behind the cord. She now wore two slave strips, each about eighteen inches long, one over the cord in front, one over it in back.
'Face me,' I said.
She obeyed.
'What have you done?' she asked.
'Exactly what you think I have done,' I said.
'You have removed nether shielding from me!' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
'Restore it,' she said. 'Quickly! There is enough left of the cloth! Please!' She gasped.
I had thrown the remaining portion of the cloth into the fire.
She watched it burn, in dismay.
'Do you feel vulnerable?' I asked.
'Yes!' she said.
'In such ways may one increase the passion of a female,' I said.
She shuddered.
'You are aware, of course,' I said, 'that these pieces of cloth might be pulled away, easily.'
'Yes!' she said.
'Keep your hands clasped behind the back of your neck,' I said.
'Now what are you doing?' she cried.
'In the future,' I said, 'the cord will be tied in this fashion, or in some equivalent fashion.'
She moaned, looking down.
I had refastened it in a simple bowknot, a sort of knot which on Gor, in certain contexts, as in the present context, is spoken of as a slave knot. It is called that, I think, because it is sometimes prescribed by masters for the fastening of slave garments. Its advantage, of course, is that it may be easily undone, by anyone. It is fastened at the left side of the girl's waist, where it is handy for a right-handed male, facing her. 'Now,' I said, 'it is possible not only to remove the pieces of cloth singly, but, if one wishes, one may easily, with a casual tug, remove the cord and, with it, both cloths together, simultaneously, expeditiously.'
'Stripping me!' she said.
'Keep your hands clasped behind the back of your neck,' I said. 'yes.' She looked at me, tears brimming in her eyes.
'Do you object to your new garmenture?' I asked.
'Surely I am entitled to object!' she said.
'Turn about,' I said.
She obeyed. 'Oh!' she said.
'You may again face me,' I said.
She turned about, again, quickly, on her knees. She looked in dismay at the strip of cloth which I had taken from the back of the cord, as it now flared, and then turned black and crumbled, in the fire.
'Do you still feel that you are entitled to object?' I asked.
'No,' she said. 'No!'
'And why not?' I asked.
'I am your captive, and servant, your full servant!' she said.
I removed my hand from the strip of cloth tucked behind the cord, at her belly. 'Keep your hands behind your neck,' I said.
'Why are you doing this?' she moaned.
'You still have more to wear than most women in this camp,' I said. She choked back a sob.
'Tomorrow morning,' I said, 'your neck will be in a coffle collar.' She looked at me, wildly.
'You will be on a chain, with other free women. You will be in the keeping of my friend, and agent, Ephialtes, as sutler. He will take care of you, or sell you, or whatever, as seems appropriate. It was my intention that you be put in slave strips in order that your sense of vulnerability, and your passion, suitably, might be increased. Too, in this fashion, I am, to some extent, preparing you for the terrors and exposures of the coffle. I have removed one slave strip as a punishment, and a sign of my power over you. To be sure, this will even further increase your sense of vulnerability, and your passion. Too, it may also better prepare you for what you might experience on the coffle, the scrutiny and attentions of men, for example. The other women, incidentally, will be stripped, totally, and their heads have been shaved. As you will, at least for a time, have a slave strip, and your hair, you will be regarded as the 'first' of the free women. All of you, however, will be subject to Liadne, a slave. She will be first girl over you. She has whip rights, and so on, over you, and behind her is the power of men.'
'I understand,' she said.
'She has also been given a slave tunic,' I said.
'How often,' smiled Phoebe, 'did I, as a free woman, feel repulsion and horror at even the sight of such scanty, revealing garments, in which slaves were put. Not I would be grateful for so much.
I smiled. The tunic, in its way, put Liadne a thousand times above her charges. 'But she is a slave, is she not?' asked Phoebe.
'Yes,' I said. Thus Liadne, tunic or not, was infinitely far beneath her. Indeed, they were not even comparable. They were not even on the same scale. One was a person, the other was an animal.
'I would that I were as she,' she said.
'Perhaps, someday, you will be,' I said.
'My arms are weary,' she said. 'May I lower them?'
'No,' I said.
'May I confess something to you?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'When in Cos, and elsewhere, as a free woman,' she said, 'I saw slaves in slave tunics I told you that I felt horror and repulsion.'
'Yes?' I said.
'But even more,' she said, 'I wanted myself to be put in such a tunic, and be similarly subject to men!'
'I understand,' I said.
'As I am a free woman,' she said, 'I am shamed, keenly, to wear what I now wear, but, if I were a slave, I do not think I would be shamed. I think, rather, I would be grateful, for I might as easily have been accorded nothing. Similarly, I do not really think I would object, if I were a slave, and not a free woman, to being naked on a chain. I think, rather, I would feel grateful and very proud, that men had found me attractive enough, and exciting enough, to put me there.'
'There are many aspects to slavery,' I said.
'I think I am aware of aspects, from the point of view of my female fulfillments, that you, as a man, may not fully understand,' she said. 'Perhaps,' I said. 'I do know that woman make excellent slaves.' 'Have you never wondered why?' she asked.
'Perhaps because they are slaves,' I said.
'Yes!' she said.
'Such as you?'
'Yes!'
'Yet even so,' I said, 'I suspect that there are senses of slavery, and aspects of slavery, that one can never fully fathom or anticipate until the experience is real for one.'
'Doubtless,' she said, shuddering.
I regarded her. She was lovely, kneeling before me, in the slave strip and cord, her hands clasped behind the back of her neck.
'May I lower my arms now?'
'No,' I said.
'You are training me, aren't you?' she said.
'Perhaps,' I said.
'I am afraid,' she said.
'Do you know why I had you kneel as you are?' I asked.
