I looked up at Mirus, tears in my eyes. I was now without pride. I was now only a naked, needful slave. I squirmed before him. I could not attempt to relieve my own tensions, as my hands, by his will, had been bound behind me. Yet for all my anguish I would not have wanted to be other than I was. I had not known such needs, such feelings, such emotions could exist. I was a thousand times more alive than I had ever been on Earth. And complementary, of course, to the pain of such deep needs, the other side of the coin, so to speak, are the incredible fulfillments of having them satisfied, fulfillments in the light of which the anguish of the needs, terrible though it was, then seems negligible. We may be totally at the mercy of masters, and as mere animals, and even to our lives, but just as it is within the power of these uncompromising brutes who own us to do as they wish with us, so, too, it is within their power, when it pleases them, to grant us transport to ineffable raptures, to fling us ecstasies of which the free woman can not begin to conceive.
"The woman of Earth begs use?" he said.
"Yes!" I said. "She begs use!"
"That is not typical for a woman of Earth, is it?" he asked.
"I do not know!" I could certainly imagine myself kneeling before a Greek or Roman master, or a harnessmaker in Damascus, his Christian slave, in the 14th Century, or a Barbary prince, a captured, harem-silked English lady who had not had time to learn something of the touch of men, in the 19th, and doing so. Indeed, I had wondered sometime if, in a former life, or lives, I might not have done so. The thought of this sort of thing, oddly enough, did not seem unfamiliar to me. To be sure, I have deep and urgent female needs, and had had them, even on Earth. To be sure, they had not been ignited on Earth as they were ignited now, and, too, at this time, of course, I did not have any idea as to how deep and urgent and progressively overwhelming, they could become later. I was still only, in effect, a new slave, and new to the rigors of my condition. I had not yet begun to learn my collar.
He looked at me.
"Surely I am not the first woman from Earth whom you have had at your feet, begging," I said.
"No," he admitted.
"What?" I asked.
"No," he repeated.
"More than one?" I asked.
"Of course," he said.
"Oh," I said. Immediately I felt a wave of jealousy for those other girls. "We learn quickly enough to beg on Gor, do we not?" I asked. "Yes," he said.
"I am here," I said. "I am at your feet. I am naked, collared and owned. I beg use. I can do nothing more." I looked up at him. I must now wait. He would do with me as he saw fit.
"Perhaps I should send you out on the floor," he said.
"Not tonight," I begged. "Use me yourself!"
"The schedules could be rearranged," he mused.
"As Master wills," I said, bitterly. I was, of course, at the mercy of his schedules.
"Perhaps I could warm you for Hendow" s customers," he speculated. "Warm me?" I laughed, bitterly. "I am already flaming!"
"If I sent you forth on the floor in your present condition," he said, "you would probably belly to the first male whose sandals you saw."
"Perhaps, Master," I said, bitterly. If he was so cruel as to deny me his touch, of course, I would, driven by my needs, have to made do elsewhere. It was Mirus, of course, who had not lit these flames in my belly. It was for him that they burned. The particular man is terribly important to the woman. He is a part of the whole that enflames her. To be sure, the slave is so needful and alive that it is not hard for her to see the beauty in any man. If I were sent forth upon the floor, however, in my condition, as it was, I do not think I would have bellied to the first man I saw. I would still have been able to look about, and select one out, one suitable incendiary to the wholeness of my need, and then prostrate myself before him. no, I was not so desperate that I would have bellied to the first man I saw. At that time, I did not even realize I could ever be so desperate as to do that. I would learn later, however, that I was wrong.
"But if you were to do that," he said, "it might not fit in as well as one might wish with the new image of the tavern, as we have now upgraded our dA©cor, slave silk for the girls, and such, and service."
"Oh?" I asked.
"We would not want them thinking the paga slaves of the tavern of Hendow were too easy," he said.
"Of course not," I said, puzzled.
"They must play hard to get," he said.
"A slave?" I asked. I could imagine being punished terribly for such a thing. We must run to a man eagerly, at his least summons. We could be «gotten» as easily as by a snapping of the fingers.
"Some fellows would like to think that the girls had at least taken a look at him before they flung themselves to their belly at his feet."
"I understand," I said.
"Of course he may simply pick out one that pleases his fancy, and summon her to his table, and command her.
"Of course, Master," I said.
"You seem puzzled," he said.
"How, really," I asked, "are we to play hard to get?"
"You must make certain he has paid for his drink first," he said.
"Ah, I see," I smiled. "Master sports with the slave." I had thought that perhaps he had been referring to something I had heard about in training, the dangerous, "pretended disinterest" sometimes commanded by masters of their girls, usually with respect to supper guests to whom he intends to lend her for the night. She must then, even if her belly is raging for the touch of the guest, attempt to pretend to disinterest in him, and even loathing, if the master wishes, though she must, of course, serve him with perfection. She then, gradually, permits herself to let her true feelings appear, thus attempting to give the impression of having been seduced by him, and then, later, after a suitable time, she is honestly piteous, kneeling beside him, licking and kissing. He then sends her to his room, that she may prepare it, and herself, for him. most masters, however, do not do this sort of thing for it is meretricious, and, at best, a joke. Too, it can be dangerous to the girl, as she is usually under the obligation, at least by the seventh Ahn, if he has not penetrated to the heart of the matter by then, which is usually the case to inform the use master of her master" s jest, which intelligence he might or might not appreciate. Many girls have been whipped for such things, which are not really their fault. They are only obeying, as they must. But then a girl must sometimes expect the whip, I suppose. She is, after all, a slave. On the other hand, few men will whip a girl for having pretended not to be attracted to him, if she is actually attracted to him, particularly if she has done so under her master" s orders. Such devices, of course, but without the authenticity and ultimate surrender, are often resorted to by "lure girls," slaves who serve as bait for captains who need crewmen, masters of work gangs, and such. Such work can be very dangerous, given the astuteness of many Gorean masters. Such a pretense, however, can be maintained with many men for at least a few minutes, and with some men for an hour or so, which is generally more than enough time for the purposes of the master, and the master" s men, unobtrusively, are usually near at hand. It is not unknown, of course, for a girl who serves at such a supper, and is genuinely disinterested, or repulsed, by a given guest, to be given to him for the night. Such things can amuse the master and the guest. Too, they tend to be good for the girl" s discipline.
I looked up at him.
"Yes" he said.
"We are to remain, then, full paga slaves," I said.
"Yes, though now, at least occasionally, silked," he said.
"I understand, Master," I said.
"The only difference," he said, "is that such silk may now be pulled away by the master, or discarded instantly, upon command, by the slave."