"Yes, Master," she said. Then she had removed the san-dais. She kissed them, and looked up at me.
"Tonight," I said, "before I leave the room, I will pierce your ears."
'Thank you, Master," she said.
"You will then be," I said, "for all practical purposes, irrevocably a slave."
"Yes, Master," she said. She looked up. "You do understand us, don't you?" she asked.
"It will improve your price," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she smiled.
"I think also," I said, "I will pierce her ears, too." I indicated the sleeping blond girl. She had been an agent of Kurii. I decided that I would guarantee, for all practical purposes, that she would remain in a collar on Gor. I would pierce her ears.
I looked over to the sleeping girl, so worn and exhausted. I went over to her and, with one hand, lifted the blanket away from her. She stirred, troubled, sensing the difference in the temperature, the air, upon her skin. "No," she whimpered, softly, in English. "I do not want to get up." How beautiful she was, lying soft and helpless in the straw. She stirred again, and lifted her knee, shifting the position of her shackled ankle. "No, I do not want to get up," she whimpered, in English. She reached down, searching for the blanket. I then held her by the upper arms. "Oh!" she said, half awakening, twisting. But I held her. "Oh," she said, "oh," suddenly, rudely, returning to a slave's reality, then understanding that she lay in straw, her back on a wooden floor, held in the arms of a man. She moved her ankle, frightened, and felt the shackle and chain.
"Who is it?" she asked. I did not speak to her.
"Is it my Master?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Who is my Master, please," she begged. I said nothing to her.
"Who is my Master!" she cried out, miserably.
"I am," I told her.
"Who owns me?" she begged.
"I do," I told her.
She turned her head to the side, and moaned. Then she again turned her face toward me, its upper portions obscured by the black, knotted blindfold.
"Why are you holding me like this?" she asked.
I said nothing to her.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.
I did not speak to her.
"What do you want of me?" she asked. "Oh, no, please," she said. "I am a virgin!" Her lip trembled. "No, please!" she said. She tensed. "No," she said, "please, no, please do not take my virginity like this, not like this. I am blindfolded! I cannot see you! I cannot even see you. I want to see who takes my virginity from me!" Then she cried out, softly, and wept.
"It was your Master, Slave," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
I held her very still.
"How sweet and strong it is," she breathed. "And how helplessly I am held. I could not escape now, unless you were to release me."
I did not speak.
"Would Master deign to kiss a slave?" she asked.
I put my lips, gently, to hers, and she lifted her lips to mine, tenderly, and kissed me, and then she put her head back to the straw and the floor.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"This first time," I said, "doubtless it is difficult and painful for you."
"It does not hurt," she said.
"Oh," I said.
"I have never been had before," she said. "I did not know what it was like, to lie like this."
"Do you like it?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "yes, Master." She then held my arms. "Master," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"I begin to feel like I want to respond to you," she whispered. "May I move, Master?"
"Yes," I said.
"Oh," she. said, softly, moving, "I did not know it could be like this. Never before have I been locked in a man's arms in this fashion. How sweet it is. How helpless I feel. I am beginning to become excited, Master. I am beginning to become terribly excited, Master!"
She lifted her lips, suddenly, to me, and kissed me, and then she put her head back, and turned it from side to side, lost in her pleasure and in the darkness of the blindfold.
Suddenly she clutched my arms. "Master!" she said.
"Yes," I said.
"We are completely alone, are we not?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"Oh!" she cried out in misery. "Oh, no!" Then she asked, "who else is present?"
"Another woman," I told her;.
"Oh, no, no, no, no!" she wept "No, not"
"Do not fear," I said. "It is only another slave."
"Behold how the brute abuses me!" she called out "What we women suffer at the hands of such beasts!"
I was startled. Sasi looked at me, puzzled.
"Rape me as a slave," she called out "You will get no pleasure from me!"
That seemed to me highly unlikely.
Then the chained girl lay back, pressing her hands against me, her head turned to the side.
"Have your will with me," she said. "I am inert. I can endure. It means nothing to me."
"Are you being troublesome?" I asked her.
"No, Master," she said.
"Have you felt the whip?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do you wish to feel it again?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said.
"You, then," I said, "have my permission to again respond."
"Surely," she said, "you did not think I was earlier responsive to you?"
"You now have my permission to again respond," I said.
"I cannot possibly respond with another woman in the room," she whispered to me. "Surely you must understand that, Master."
"Respond," I told her.
"I am commanded?" she asked, disbelievingly.
"Yes," I said.
"How can you command such a thing?" she asked.
"As I have done," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"And, further," I said, "you will respond as a slave."
"Yes, Master," she said, miserably. She began to move, timidly, slightly, about me.
"I will try to forget that there is another woman in the room," she said.
"No," I said, "keep it clearly in mind."
"Master?" she said.
"Show her your slave heat," I said.
"But should one not be ashamed of one's passion?" she asked.
"Why?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said.
"Is there any rational reason?" I asked. "I do not doubt there may be many irrational reasons, or causes."
"Perhaps because, in a man's arms, it makes a woman a slave," she said.
'That," I said, "is doubtless true, but it is a reservation which, if pertinent at all, is pertinent only, surely, to free women."
"Yes," she said, uncertainly.
"You are already a slave," I said.
"Yes," she said…
"It is permissible, I suppose," she said, "for a slave to be passionate."
"It is not only permissible for a slave to be passionate," I said.
"Master?" she asked.
I held her very tightly.
"Yes Master," she whispered.
"A slave," I said, "must be passionate."
"Master?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, 'the slave girl has no choice. She must be passionate."
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Moreover," I said, "she is to be proud of her passion. It is one of the most splendid, and beautiful and joyful things about her."
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Begin," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said.
She began to move, and try to kiss me.
"Oh, no," she said. "I am too miserable. It is too embarrassing."
"Continue," I told her.
"But if I continue I may become excited," she said.
"You will become excited," I told her.
"But there is another woman present," she said.
"Move," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she sobbed.
"Be proud of your slave heat," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Show her your slave heat," I said.
"Yes, Master," she sobbed. Then, in a few moments, despite her intent, I heard a moan of pleasure escape her. "Oh, no," she added.