They would come to long for the chain, and the caress.
Even to beg for it.
“And she is only a slave,” I said.
“Of course,” said Astrinax.
“Then,” said I, “I would steal the candy. Who would not?”
“Many,” said Menon, regretfully.
“I think she will do very nicely,” said Astrinax.
“I fear so,” said Menon.
“Master?” I said, uneasily.
“Eventually,” said Menon, “you will have to grow more moral.”
“Master?” I said.
“You are a slave,” said Menon. “One expects a greater morality from a slave than a free woman.”
“Because they are afraid of being beaten?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” he said.
“But, Master,” I said, “is the testimony of slaves in courts not taken under torture, that they will not dare to lie?”
“It would be better,” said Menon, “for the testimony of free women to be taken under torture, for they are famous for saying whatever pleases them.”
“Under torture,” said Astrinax, “one speaks not to say the truth, but to say whatever will stop the pain.”
“I am disappointed in you, Allison,” said Menon.
“Forgive me, Master,” I said.
“She is a barbarian,” Astrinax reminded Menon.
“True,” said Menon.
“I am pleased to hear your response to my question,” said Astrinax.
“A slave is pleased if Master is pleased,” I said.
Surely a girl is entitled to look out for herself, avail herself of opportunities, improve her place, take advantage of things, and so on.
“I think you are a clever slave,” said Astrinax.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
“Though perhaps not intelligent,” he said.
“Master?” I said.
“But clever, surely,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
I wished he had said ‘intelligent’. ‘Clever’ had a suggestion of pettiness, of cunning, of smallness about it.
“And pretty,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
“A pretty slave, and a clever one,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said. I was not sure I had been complimented. Was I not intelligent, was I not beautiful, at least amongst women of Earth, if not compared to Gorean collar girls?
But is the word ‘clever’ not a mere disparagement, on the part of some, of true intelligence, that which is expedient, and prudentially wise, that by means of which one may pursue one’s best interests with the least regard to extraneous impediments, principles, codes, rules, and such?
I was annoyed.
I knew myself to be quite intelligent. The girls in the sorority had not been selected merely on the basis of appearance, carriage, dressing smartly, being economically well stationed, and so on. We were selected, at least in part, to enhance the reputation of the sorority, as an established avenue to wealth and power. Membership, this presenting us as rare prizes in marital competitions, above lesser advantaged girls, much increased the likelihood of our obtaining an enviable match.
“On your former world,” said Astrinax, “one supposes you were adept in certain familiar female practices, commonly associated with free women, for example, that you were skilled in flattering males, in teasing them, manipulating them, playing on their feelings, raising their hopes, encouraging them to pursuits in your interest, or perhaps in the interest of your superiors, inducing them to certain activities, by glances, smiles, words, and such.”
“Perhaps, Master,” I said.
I had enjoyed such games, sometimes for gain, sometimes for sport. It was easy to find gratification in my effect on males, boys, and men.
Then, of course, I was not a vulnerable slave, owned, subject to discipline, and such.
Then I was free. I was not in a collar.
What one did then one might not dare in a collar.
“Do you think you could engage in such activities now,” asked Astrinax.
“I do not understand, Master,” I said. I did not want to be lashed.
“Could you smile upon men, bring them drinks, brush against them, be at their side, smile, laugh, pretend to share their anxieties, their joys, their disappointments, and keep them engaged in certain activities?”
“Master?” I said.
“Could you lie, if commanded, pretend interest where interest was not felt, simulate affection where none exists, use your beauty, for you now have beauty, yes, beauty, such as it is, to whisper, wheedle, stimulate, instigate, and influence men, even to their ruin, collapse, or destitution?”
“I do not think I understand Master,” I said.
“Astrinax,” said Menon, “is seeking slaves for a gambling house. It is one of several on the Street of Chance. In such a house, there are commonly slaves, beautiful slaves, to wait upon the men, to serve drinks and food, to contribute to the decor and pleasantness of the setting, to mingle with the patrons, to encourage betting, even to the point of recklessness.”
“I see,” I said.
“In the beginning,” he said, “you would be a lesser slave, though not hard to look upon, and might assist the other girls.”
“Yes, Master,” I said. I was pleased, at least, to learn that I was not hard to look upon. Perhaps in such a place I might attract a man and win for myself a private master. I could make my choice judiciously, finding a fellow both handsome and strong, and, in such a place, quite possibly one of wealth. A girl has ways of course, of influencing a fellow to think of buying her.
It was lonely in my chains, at night. Sometime I clutched them, hurting my hands, in frustration, those metal fastenings on me so fixedly, and thrashed on my mat.
“I think I know the house,” said Menon to Astrinax. “If it is the one I think it is, it is rumored to be dishonest.”
“If so,” smiled Astrinax, “I think our little Allison might fit in quite nicely.”
I remembered my response to the question about the candy.
“Doubtless,” said Menon.
I feared I had disappointed my master.
“You understand the sort of thing we have in mind, do you not, Allison?” asked Astrinax.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Do you think you could well fulfill your duties in such a place?”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“I thought so,” he said.
“Slaves, there,” said Menon, “exist to loosen the strings on pouches, urge fellows to shower gold on the tables, to risk much, beyond reason, to pout and look away if there is evidence of hesitation or circumspection, to cry out in pleasure if an extra tarn disk is put in the plate, another card drawn, another flash of dice cast.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
I did not see that that was my concern.
“Some will ply them with drink,” he said, “and bring them food, to keep them at the tables.”
“I understand,” I said.
“You may be expected to do such things,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“And,” said Astrinax, “you would be expected to do such things well, with an appearance of delight and enthusiasm. Do you think you could manage that?”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
In such a place might one not secure a suitable master, perhaps even one rich, though, to be sure, I would hope to be his only slave.
“The price agreed,” said Astrinax, “as I recall, was a silver tarsk.”
I looked up, startled.
I had originally sold for forty-two copper tarsks.
“The price, now,” said Menon, rising, looking down on me, “is fifty, fifty copper tarsks.”
“Oh?” said Astrinax, smiling.
“She is not worth a silver tarsk,” said Menon.
I knelt between them while the tarsks were counted out.
When the transaction had been completed, I dared to look up at Menon. “It is a shame,” said Menon, looking down upon me, “that the slavers consider little more than intelligence, beauty, and helpless, latent passion. Perhaps they should concern themselves more with the character of their prey.”