'Yes,' I said, 'I can see how a man might find you of interest.' I was also interested to note how well she had obeyed.
'You want me,' she said. 'Free me!'
'To be sure,' I said, 'it is a long time since I have had a woman.'
'I am a prize!' she said, angrily.
'You are not even a slave,' I said.
She threw her head back, angrily.
'Are you a virgin?' I asked.
'No,' She said. 'I am not a virgin. I have permitted men to make love to me twice. I assure you I can stand it.'
I smiled.
'Would you prefer that I was a virgin?' she asked. 'No,' I said. Virgins presented special problems, particularly of a psychological nature. Also, their sexual responses usually required lengthening, deepening and honing. On the whole, I, like most Goreans, preferred opened women. And, of course, most women are opened. Virgins, for example, are almost never available in the slave markets.
She looked down at me.
'I assure you, I said, 'there would have been little point in lying about the matter.'
'I suppose not,' she said.
'On the other hand,' I said, 'you would seem to be, for most practical purposes, having to do with the furs, a virgin.'
'No,' she said, 'twice I permitted men to make love to me.'
'They were lucky fellows,' I said.
'I never permitted either of them to do so again,' she said.
'Doubtless they have spent years in repining.'
'Perhaps,' she said. 'I do not know.'
'You are sure you can stand it?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said, 'I can stand it.'
She shrank back a little but I, carefully, with the tip of my knife, inserting it between her ankles and the thongs, freed her legs.
'Ah,' she said, relievedly. One could still see the several deep imprints of the thongs in her ankles. These marks, in an Ahn or two, or a few Ahn, would disappear. The thongs had not cut into her, nor burned her deeply.
I looked up at her.
'My arms,' she said. 'I am still helpless!'
'Perhaps I shall leave you now,' I said.
'No, no!' she said.
'Do you beg to be freed?' I asked.
'Yes, yes!' she sobbed.
'Speak, then,' I said.
'Please free me,' she said. 'I beg it! I beg it!'
I then, the knife in my teeth, climbed to the lower crossbar, on which I put my foot.
'Why have you sheathed your knife?' she asked.
'One can see over the rence from here,' I observed. I steadied myself with my left hand on the pole.
'Free me,' she begged. 'Oh!'
She looked at me, wildly. Then she looked away, swiftly. 'Please!' she protested. 'Please!'
'Look at me,' I told her.
She turned her head to face me. Her eyes were very wide. Then she turned her head away again, desperately. 'I am a free woman!' she wept.
'It is only my hand,' I said.
'But it is on me in such a way!' she said.
'Can you stand it?' I asked.
'I do not know!' she said.
I withdrew my hand. Her body shuddered. She looked at me, in protest, almost piteously, but also, interestingly, questioningly, and, in a manner, in consternation and amazement. I gathered her feelings were profoundly ambiguous. Among them seemed to be at least resentment, surprise, and curiosity. Too, I think there was fear. I gathered that she might be trying to understand, and cope with, unusual things which had occurred in her body, perhaps for the first time, things which, even in their incipience, even in the first and most inchoate forms, had profoundly stirred her, things which had perhaps hinted at profound latencies of scarcely suspected feelings, and had, perhaps to her dismay or terror, suggested to her what might be done to her, what she could, if a man wished, be made to feel. To be sure, she had probably never been in a man's power before, at least in this way. Her slave reflexes, I noted, were not far below the surface. I did not think it would do to tell her this, of course. She was, at least as of now, and in a way, a free woman.
'What is that called,' she asked, 'what you did to me?'
'It is one of the ways,' I said, 'in which one may put one's hand on a woman-in the manner of the master.'
' 'In the manner of the master'!' she said.
'Yes,' I said.
'No one ever touched me in that way before!' she said.
'I would suppose not,' I said.
'Surely that is a touch commonly reserved for slaves!' she said.
'True,' I said.
'Owned sluts, mere chattels, to whom anything may be done!'
'Yes,' I said.
'But I am a free woman!' she said.
'True,' I said. 'It was highly inappropriate that I touch you in that fashion. I apologize, profoundly.'
'Very well,' she said, uncertainly.
'You accept my apology?' I asked.
'And if I do not?' she asked.
'Then I will leave you here,' I said.
'I accept your apology,' she said.
'Sincerely, eagerly?' I asked.
'Yes,' she sobbed. 'Yes!'
'And you forgive me?' I inquired.
'Yes,' she said.
'Profoundly, sincerely, and with no hard feelings?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said. 'Yes! Yes!'
'Perhaps I will then free you,' I said.
' 'Perhaps'?' she asked, in dismay.
'Yes, perhaps,' I said. I then took the knife from the sheath and, carefully, put it between her belly and the three thongs which, dark, half buried in her flesh, in collusion with the crossbar, held her wrists in place at her sides. With one motion the straps flew apart.
'Steady,' I said to her. I resheathed the knife. She moaned as I slowly, and carefully, lifted her left wrist back and over the bar. I then, similarly, steadying her, freed her right arm of the bar. I then held her, that she not fall forward; she was doubtless in pain. 'Hold to the bar,' I said. She grasped it. I then dropped to the sand. I took her then about the upper legs and lowered her to the sand. She sank to her knees, and crawled away a few feet in the sand. Her wrists were still encircled by thongs, of course, with the free ends of thongs dangling from each. She rose unsteadily to her feet, and faced me. It was hard to read her eyes. I did not doubt, of course, that she would bolt. I decided I would give her the opportunity to do so. 'It would not do for rencers,' I said, 'to find this pole empty. I do not wish to spend the next several days, or weeks, attempting to elude their pursuit. Accordingly,
