in the flashes of lightning, in the explosions of thunder.
She was small, naked and cuddly. Her thigh, as I determined, in turning her about, and caressing her, first, by feel, and then, in a flash of lightning, wore the common Kajira brand, the small, delicate 'Kef,' for 'Kajira,' sometimes called the staff and fronds, suggesting beauty subject to discipline. On her neck, beneath the coils of the heavy, padlocked chain, was a common, close-fitting Gorean slave collar.
'Alas,' she wept softly, in misery, in frustration, 'my ankles are chained!' I gathered she might not have been a slave long.
'Oh!' she cried, softly.
I thrust up her legs and slipped between them, and hen her legs were tight about me, I within their chained circuit. I lifted her up, and lowered her. 'Ohh,' she said, softly. She clutched me.
The storm was fierce.
Then, after a time, I lifted her up and slipped back, freeing myself.
There are various ways, of course, to use a woman whose ankles were bound. I had utilized one of them.
'If a question comes up,' I said to her, 'you were warned to silence, and were helpless.' To be sure, this was even true. 'You were merely utilized by a casual passer-by.' I said. Such things, incidentally, are not that unusual with female slaves, particularly if they are put out, without an iron belt, in effect for the taking.
'I cannot believe the feelings I had,' she whispered.
'You must endure such feelings and more,' I said, 'When men choose to impose them upon you.'
'Yes, Master,' she whispered, in awe.
The extent and nature of such feelings, I think, are largely a function of the individuals involved. To be sure, they are usually, too, a function of many other factors, as well. For example, in this particular case, I suspected that her chaining might have been a factor. Restraining the female, sometimes symbolically, sometimes in fashions which are literally, physically coercive, making her absolutely helpless, for various reasons, psychological and physical, intensifies her orgasm. This sort of thing, I suppose, is largely unknown to free women, though many seem to suspect it, dimly or otherwise. Its reality, of course, can become clear to them, for example, as they might find themselves on their knees, bound, kissing a man's whip. The most significant restraint, of course, it the condition of bondage itself, in which the woman knows that the male is dominant over her and that she must submit to him, that she is owned, and must, in fear of very life, be obedient and pleasing. Slavery institutionalizes, in an organized, social, civilized context, the natural biological relationship between men and women. It also, of course, as one would expect, by means of various devices, legal and otherwise, clarifies it and renders it more efficient.
'Oh, buy me, Master! Buy me!' she begged.
'Only a slave,' said I, 'begs to be bought.'
'I am a slave,' she said. 'That was taught to me weeks ago by the slaver who captured me!'
'You are probably not for sale,' I said.
'My master does not care for me,' she said. 'He bought me only to anger his companion, who is terribly cruel to me. During the day, when my legs are open, he even rents me out to strangers for a tarsk bit!'
'Does his companion grow more attentive and concerned?' I asked.
'I think not,' she said.
'Perhaps it should be she who is chained beneath the wagon,' I said. 'She is a free woman!' protested the girl, in horror.
'Your master charges a tarsk bit for your use?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said.
'Open your mouth,' I said.
She did so, and I drew forth a tarsk bit from my pouch, this one not a separate coin in the sense of round or square coin, but a piece of such a coin, a narrow, triangular, chopped eighth of a copper tarn disk, and placed it in her mouth. 'That is for your master,' I said. Many Goreans, particularly those of low caste, on errands and such, carry a coin or coins in their mouths. Most Gorean garments, a notable exception being those of artisans, lack pockets.
She looked at me.
I pulled the tarpaulin up about her, as it had been before, to protect her from the storm.
In placing the coin in her mouth, I had not only, having discovered he was interested in such things, and the price was not too much, compensated her master for her use but had precluded further importunities on her part. I kissed a little at her face. I had thought the streaks there might have been rain, but they had a salty taste.
I moved from beneath the wagon and picked up my pack.
She looked up at me. She understood, the coin in her mouth, that she was now to be silent.
I looked up to the height of the stony plateau, and the palisade. In a flash of lightning, illuminated clearly for a moment, I could see, over the palisade, hanging from its chains, the crosspiece on the high pole, swinging in the storm, the huge sign with its emblematic representation of a bird, that with the vulturelike neck and the distorted, grasping right leg and talons, the sigh of the Crooked Tarn.
I looked back to the girl.
She was still looking at me.
I pointed to the gravel before her, under the wagon.
Immediately, kneeling, she lowered her head to the gravel, in obeisance. I then turned away, and began to ascend the bridge, leading up to the gate. I put the girl from my mind. She was, after all, a slave, and her use had been paid for.
2 The Court; Chained Women
'You are not a female,' said the voice from behind the door, a small, narrow door cut in the left panel of the gate, the eyes peering out from a small sliding hatch in the door. 'Show that you have money!'
I lifted up a copper tarsk. The fellow inside lifted up a small tharlarion-oil lamp to the opening. I held the coin where he could see it but I did not put it through the aperture.
'Not enough!' he said.
I then held up a silver tarsk. The door opened.
I entered.
He locked the door behind me.
I then followed him through a high, shedlike tunnel, walled with wood, about forty feet long, to the interior gate. There he turned about. 'Something for the porter,' I said.
'You are paid by the keeper of the house,' I said.
'Times are hard,' he said. 'And it is late. I have opened the door late.' 'That is true,' I said. I put a tarsk bit into his hand.
'Times are hard,' he said.
I put down my pack. I took out a knife and pushed it a bit into his gut, pushing him back against the inner gate. He turned white. I lifted up his purse, on its strings, and, with the point of the knife, opened it. There were several coins within it. I could see in light of the small lamp he carried. 'Times are not as hard as you thought,' I said. 'How much would you like?'
'A tarsk bit is quite sufficient,' he said.
'You have it,' I said.
'Yes, Sir,' he said. 'Thank you, Sir.' He put the tarsk bit from his hand into his purse, as I held it, and then took the purse gingerly from me, and, sensing he was permitted, dropped it, on its strings, so that again it hung from his belt, on his left. If one is right-handed, one normally lifts the purse with the left hand and reaches into it with the right. The weight of the purse, on its drawstrings, closed it.
'It is a violent night out,' I said.
'It is, Sir,' said he. 'What have you heard from the north?'
'I have come from the south,' I said.
