"He said to me, 'Come closer. Stand before the coffee table.' I did that. 'You are a pretty one,' he said. 'Perhaps you have possibilities.'"
"What did he mean by that?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said. "I started to tell him my name, but he lifted his hand, and told me that he knew my name. I looked at him, frightened. On the coffee table, before him, there was a decanter of wine and a heavy, ornate metal goblet. I had never seen a goblet of that sort. It was so primitive and barbaric. 'I understand,' I said to him, 'that you may know something of Gor.' 'Kneel down before the coffee table, my dear,' he said."
"What did you do then?" I asked.
"I knelt down," she said, blushing. Suddenly I envied, hotly, the power of that man over the beautiful Miss Henderson.
"He then said to me," she said, "'Pour wine into the goblet. Fill it precisely to the second ring.' There were five rings on the outside of the goblet. I poured the wine, as he had asked, and then placed the goblet on the coffee table. 'Now unbutton your blouse,' he said, 'completely."'
"You then cried out with fury and fled from the apartment?" I asked.
"I unbuttoned my blouse," she said, "Completely. 'Now open your slacks,' he said."
"Did you do this?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "'Now remove your blouse, and thrust your slacks down about your calves,' he said."
"Did you do this?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. " `Now thrust your panties down about your hips,' he said, `until your navel is revealed.' I did this, too. I then knelt there before him in my panties, thrust down upon my hips, that my navel be revealed, my slacks down about my legs, and in my brassiere, my blouse discarded, placed on the rug beside me."
I could scarcely believe what I was hearing.
"Do you understand the significance of the revealing of the navel?" she asked me.
"I believe on Gor," I said, "it is called 'the slave belly'."
"It is," she said. "But Gor, of course, does not exist."
"Of course not," I said.
"'Now take the goblet,' he said, 'and hold the metal against your-body, pushing inward.' I took the goblet and held it, tightly, to my body. I held the round, heavy metal against me, below my brassiere. 'Lower,' he said, 'against your belly.' I then held the goblet lower. 'Press it more inward,' he said. I did so. I can still feel the cold metal against me, firmly, partly against the silk of my undergarment, partly against my belly. 'Now,' said he, 'lift the goblet to your lips and kiss it lingeringly, then proffer it to me, arms extended, head down."'
"Did you do that?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said, angrily. "I had never met a man like him. There seemed some kind of strength about him, such as I had never met in another man. It is hard to explain. But I felt that I must obey him, and perfectly, that there were no two ways about it."
"Interesting," I said.
"When he had finished the wine," she said, "he replaced the goblet on the table. He then said, 'You are clumsy and untrained, but you are pretty and perhaps you could be taught. You may stand now, and dress. You may then leave.'"
"What did you do then?" I asked.
"I stood up, and dressed," she said. "Then I said to him, 'I am Beverly Henderson.' I felt, I suppose, I wished to assert my identity. 'Your name is known to me,' he said. 'Are you fond of your name?' he asked. 'Yes,' I said to him. 'Relish it while you can,' he said. 'You may not have it long.'"
"What did he mean by that?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said. "I demanded, too, to know. But he said to me merely that I might then leave. I was then angry. 'What have you to tell me of Gor?' I asked. `Surely you have learned something of Gor this afternoon,' he said. `I do not understand,' I said. `It is a pity that you are so stupid,' he said, `else you might bring a higher price.' `Price!' I cried. `Yes, price,' he said, smiling. `Surely you know that there are men who will pay for your beauty.'"
"Go on," I said.
"I was terribly angry," she said. " `Never have I been so insulted!' I said to him. 'I hate you!' I cried. He smiled at me. `Being troublesome and displeasing is acceptable in a free woman,' he said. `Be troublesome and displeasing while you may. It will not be permitted to you later: I turned then and went to the door. At the door I turned. `Have no fear, Miss Henderson,' he said, 'we always save one or two capsules, aside from those allotted to our regular requisitions, in case something worthwhile shows up.' He then grinned at me. `And you, I think,' he said, `with the proper training, exercise and diet, will prove quite worthwhile. You may go now.' I then wept and ran out the door."
"When did this happen?" I asked.
"Two days ago," she said. "What do you think it means?"
"I think, obviously," I said, "it is a cruel joke, and it could have been a dangerous joke. I would advise you never to enter into such a rendezvous again."
"I have no intention of doing so," she said, shuddering.
"It is over now, and there is nothing to worry about," I said.
"Thank you, Jason," she said.
"Did you inform the police?" I asked.
"I did," she said, "but not until the next day. No crime, of course, had been committed. There was nothing I could prove. Still it seemed to warrant an investigation."
"I agree completely," I said.
"Two officers and I went to the same address," she said.
"What occurred in the confrontation?" I asked.
"There was no confrontation," she said. "The apartment was empty. It was not even furnished. There were no drapes, nothing. The superintendent claimed it had been empty for a week. There was no reason for the officers to disbelieve him. Perhaps he was paid off. Perhaps he was in league with the heavy man. I do not know. The officers, angry, gave me a stern warning about such pranks and let me go. The entire matter has been a pain and an embarrassment to me."
"It certainly seems an elaborate hoax," I said.
"Why would anyone go to such trouble?" she asked
"I do not know," I said.
"Do you think I have anything to fear?" she asked.
"No," I said, "certainly not." Then I lifted my hand, to call the waiter.
"I must pay half the check and leave half the tip," she said.
"I'll take care of it," I said.
"No," she said, suddenly, irritably. "I will be dependent on a man for nothing."
"Very well," I said. I saw that Miss Henderson had a sharp edge to her. I supposed that a Gorean slave whip, if there were a Gor, would quickly take that out of her.
We then, at the hat-check counter, secured our wraps. The girl behind the counter was blond. She wore a white blouse and a brief, black skirt; her legs, well revealed, were clad in clinging black netting. Miss Henderson received her light cape. She placed a quarter in the small wooden bowl on the counter. I received my coat. I gave the girl a dollar. She had lovely legs. She had a pretty smile. She pleased me. "Thank you, Sir," she said. "You're welcome," I said.
"Scandalous how some women exploit their bodies;" said Beverly, when we had stepped away from the counter.
"She was very pretty," I said.
"I suppose you would not mind owning her," said Beverly.
"No," I said, "I wouldn't mind owning her at all. She might be very pleasant to own."
"All men are monsters," said Beverly.
I donned my coat. She held her wrap.
"Why are you dressed as you are tonight?" I asked. "Are you not frightened that some of your "sisters" in your department will see you? Can you afford the risk?"
She seemed momentarily apprehensive. I had been joking. Then I saw that it was not truly a joke. One student can, subtly, belittle and undermine another student in the eyes of her peers and in the eyes of the faculty. It can be done with apparent innocence in the dialogue in a seminar, by an apparently chance remark at a coffee or tea, even by an expression or a movement of the body in a classroom or a hall. The rules for conformance and the sanctions against difference are seldom explicit; indeed, it is commonly denied that there are such rules and sanctions. They are reasonably obvious, however, to those familiar with the psychology of groups. Such things, unfortunately, can ruin graduate careers. Most obviously they can be reflected in the evaluations of the student's work and in his letters of recommendation, particularly those written by strict professors of the correct political persuasions, whatever they happen to be at the particular institution in question.