brand?' inquired Marcus.
'Take me there!' she demanded.
Instantly, appropriately, he lashed her head to the side with the back of his right hand.
She was struck to the ground with the force of the blow and at a snapping of his fingers, and his gesture, she struggled again to her knees before us, her mouth bloody. Her eyes were wide. It was perhaps the first time she had been cuffed. Marcus glared down at her. He did not have much patience with slaves. Phoebe had often learned that to her dismay. To be sure, she was scarcely ever struck or beaten now. She had become a superb slave in the past few months, under Marcus' tutelage.
'Forgive me, Master,' she said. 'I was not respectful. It was appropriate that I be cuffed.'
In her eyes there were awe and admiration for Marcus. She saw that he would not hesitate to impose discipline upon her.
'It is common,' I said, 'for a slave to request permission to speak.'
'Forgive me, Master,' she said, putting down her head.
'You said you were no stranger to scrolls,' I said.
'To some, Master,' she said. 'I did not mean to be arrogant. If I have not been pleasing, lash me.'
'Have you read,' I asked, 'the Manuals of the Pens of Mira, Leonora's Compendium, the Songs of Dina, or Hargon's The Nature and Arts of the Female Slave?'
'No, Master,' she said, eagerly. Such texts, and numerous others, like them, are sometimes utilized in a girl's training, particularly by professional slavers. Sometimes they are read aloud in training sessions by a scribe, a whip master in attendance. Most girls are eager to acquire such knowledge. Indeed, they often ply one another for secrets of love, makeup, costuming, perfuming, dance, and such, as each wishes to be as perfect for her master as it lies within her power to be. Also, of course, such diligence is prudential on her part. She will be lashed if she is not pleasing. Also, her very life, literally, is in his hands. Perhaps a word is in order pertaining to the Songs of Dina. Some free women claim that this book, which is supposedly written by Din, 'a slave', which continues to appear in various editions and revisions, because of its intelligence and sensitivity, is actually, and must be, written by a free woman. I suspect, on the other hand, that it is truly by a slave, as is claimed on the title page. There are two reasons for this. First, 'Dina' is a common slave name, often given to girls with the 'Dina' brand, which is a small, roselike brand. Second, the nature of the songs themselves. No free woman could have sung of chains and love, and the lash, and the glory of masters as she. Those are songs which, in my opinion, could be written only by a woman who knew what it was to be at a man's slave ring. As to the matter of the poetess' intelligence and sensitivity, I surely grant them to the free women, but maintain that such are entirely possible in a slave, and even more to expected in her than in them. I suspect their position may even be inconsistent. When a women is enslaved, for example, surely they do not suppose that her intelligence and sensitivity disappear. Surely they would not expect theirs to do so, if they had them. No, she still has them. Also, it has been my personal experience, for what it is worth, that slaves are almost always more intelligent and sensitive than free women, who often, at least until taken in hand, tend to be ignorant, smug, vain and stupid. Also, it might be noted that many women are enslaved nto simply because it is convenient to do so, the ropes are handy, so to speak, or because they are beautiful of face and figure, but actually because of their intelligence and sensitivity, qualifies which appeal to many Gorean men. indeed, as I have suggested, the intelligence and sensitivity of many women actually tends to blossom in bondage, finding within it the apt environment for its expression, for its flowering. This may have to do with such matters as the release of inhibitions, happiness, fulfillment, and such. I do not know. 'What of the Prition of Clearchus of Cos?' I asked.
'A Cosian?' said Marcus.
'Yes,' I said.
'That will not be found in Ar,' he said.
'It used to be,' I said, 'at least before the war.'
'Yes, Master,' she beamed. 'I have read it!'
'You, a free girl, have read it?' I asked. To be sure, the book is a classic. 'Yes, Master!' she smiled.
'Does your father know you have read it?' I asked.
'No, Master,' she said.
'What do you suppose he would do to you, if he found out?' I asked.
'I think he would sell me, Master,' she said.
'And appropriately,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she smiled.
'Stand,' I said. 'Turn about. Cross your wrists behind you.'
'Yes, Master!' she said, eagerly, complying.
'Oh!' she said, bound.
'Turn about,' I said.
Swiftly she did so, and looked shyly up at me. She tested the fiber on her wrists, subtly, attempting to do so inconspicuously, trying its smugness and strength, its effectiveness. She put down her head and suddenly, inadvertently, shuddered, with pleasure. I had used capture knots. She knew herself helpless. I supposed it was the first time she had ever been bound.
'May I speak?' she asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'I am tied as a slave is tied, am I not?' she asked.
'As slaves are sometimes tied,' I said.
This comprehension was suddenly reflected, or exhibited, in her entire body, in fear, and desire and pleasure, she flexing her knees, twisting, her shoulders moving, and then, again, she stood before me, looking up at me, but now trembling.
'It is appropriate, is it not?' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
I regarded her.
She looked away.
She was trying to deal with her helplessness, to understand it, and its import. I wondered what her feelings would have been had she been a legal slave, and known herself totally at our mercy.
'Will it be necessary to leash you?' I asked.
'No,' she said.
I then leashed her. 'Now you will not run away,' I said.
'I will not run away,' she said.
'I know,' I said. I looped the long end of the leash three times. She looked at the swinging loops, apprehensively. Most slave leashes are long enough to serve not only as a leash but also as a lash. The length, too, permits them to facilitate a binding, both of hand and foot. A common technique is to run the leash through a slave ring and then complete the tie as one pleases, simply or complexly. Many leashes, such as the one I had just put on the girl, are cored with wire. This prevents them from being chewed through.
'Tarry here a moment,' I said to Marcus. To the girl I said, 'Precede me.' She went ahead of me some paces down the alley before I stopped her. 'Do not turn about,' I said.
I then turned back to Marcus. I pointed to the remains of the chest and touched the knife at my side.
He nodded and drew his knife. On the lid of the chest he carved a delka, and then set the lid against the remains of the chest, that the sign might be prominently displayed. As we were not in the officer's chain of command, he in charge of the guardsmen of Ar whom we had earlier encountered. I did not (pg. 196) think he would be likely to follow up the matter on the girl's disposition. He would presumably take it for granted, that she might even now be in the loot pits of the district of Anbar, awaiting the technicalities of her enslavement. Had he been interested in the matter he would doubtless have seen to it himself, or had his men see to it. Perhaps, on the other hand, he did not trust them, as they were of Ar. I did not know. If an investigation were initiated, which seemed to me unlikely, as many women were delivered on one pretext or another to the loot pits, and there would not be likely to be much interest in any particular one of them, Marcus and I could always claim that she had come into the power of the Delta Brigade, and we had thought it best not to gainsay their will in the matter, and indeed, I suppose, in a sense, that was true, as Marcus and I, were, or were of, as it seemed better to put it now, given the most recent information at our disposal, the Delta Brigade. Too, even if the matter were not perused further,
