Some fifty yards away, in the street, another palanquin passed, borne by draft slaves, some lovely enslaved girls, in brief tunics, chained by the neck to a bar at its back. Their hands, too, were locked behind their backs in slave bracelets. Perhaps the display was a bit ostentatious, but I did not object. The girls were slim-thighed and sweetly breasted.
I looked down to the girl who, wrists bound, on the shortened neck-leash, sat at the slave ring in front of the shop of Philebus. It was later in the afternoon now, and it was hot. I was surprised to see, though I gave no sign of this, that she had been looking at me. She turned her head away. I continued to regard her. I think she was aware of this. She sat a bit more straightly against the wall, putting her head back. I thought again of the girls chained behind the palanquin I had just seen, and the girl before me now, at the ring, fastened there. How marvelous I thought to be on such a world, where such women might be owned. I was not displeased then to be on Gor. I regarded her ankles, her calves and thighs, the sweetness of her belly and breasts, her throat, her face, her hair.
"I am thirsty," she said.
"Kneel," I said.
"Never," she said.
I looked away.
"I am kneeling," she said.
I looked back at her. She was now kneeling.
"Slave!" said the male silk slave, fastened at the wall, at the next ring.
Somehow I had known the girl would kneel to me. It is difficult to say how I had known this. Indeed, perhaps I had not known it. Perhaps I had only expected it.
She was kneeling. She had obeyed.
I recalled our earlier exchange, in which she had told me that she was not for the likes of me, but for free men. "Do you yield well in their arms, Slave?" I had asked her. "I expect you yield well indeed, Slave," I had said to her. She had flushed crimson, and had sobbed. Our relationship was now quite different than it would have been, I sensed, had that exchange not taken place. In that exchange I had made it clear to her that she was a woman, and that, if she were to relate to me, she must do so as a woman. I would have it no other way. I had seen fit, by an act of my will, that of a male, to deny to her the convenient refuges of deceit, pretense and fraud. She now knelt at my feet. I had, by an imperious word, put her there.
She looked up at me. I saw that her eyes were angry. I saw, too, in her eyes that she knew she belonged at the feet of a man.
"I am very thirsty," she said.
"What of it?" I asked.
Her eyes flashed.
I looked away, out into the street.
"I am very thirsty," said the girl, after a time. "I am chained. Would you bring me water from the fountain, please?"
"You must pay me," I said.
The male silk slave at the next ring cried out with outrage.
"You must pay me," I said. "Do you understand?"
"Clearly," she said.
I went to the fountain and, from the lower bowl, scooped up a brimming, double handful of water which I carried, carefully, to the girl. I lifted it to her lips and she, kneeling, hands bound before her body, her neck on its chain leash fastened to the ring behind her, drank. My hands were in position, when she had drunk, to hold her head. She looked at me, frightened. "I know the feel of such hands," she said. "You are not a silk slave," she whispered.
"I," said the silk slave fastened at the next ring, "if I had been free, would have fetched you the water for nothing."
"I know your sort," said the girl. "You ask nothing, but you expect much." I thrust the girl back against the wall. I thrust my lips to her throat. "I prefer a man," gasped the girl, to the silk slave, "who takes command of a girl, and takes what he wants from her." Then she said to me, sucking in her breath, turning her head to the side, "And what do you_ want of me?" "Everything," I told her, "and more"
"I feared so," she laughed. I thrust up her bound hands, to get them out of my way. I then understood why Goreans commonly bind the hands of women behind their back. Then her bound wrists, crossed, were behind the back of my neck, and her lips began to meet mine, eagerly. "Take me," she whispered, "Master!"
"Stop!" cried the silk slave at the next ring. "Stop! I shall tell!"
"Take me, Master!" begged the girl. "Please take me!"
"Stop!" cried the silk slave. "Stop! I shall tell! I shall tell!"
I had been had numerous times on Gor by free women, usually chained or obedient to their commands, but I had not been permitted, myself, to take a woman, to hold her in my arms, owning her, and transform her into an obedient, squirming slave. Uncontrollable, wild, starved for the ownership of a woman, I thrust her back, brutally, against the wall. Then I dragged her, half lying, holding her helplessly, from the wall. Her head was up in the leash collar. "Oh," she cried, "oh!"
"Disgusting!" I heard from a free woman passing in the street.
"Animal!" I heard another woman say.
But these passers-by, and others, did not order us apart. We were slaves. Such scenes are not unknown on Gorean streets. They would attract little more attention than would the writhings of pet sleen. It is for such reasons that slave girls are sometimes sent from their houses locked in the iron belt. To be sure the slave girl is more likely to be attacked by young ruffians than male slaves, who are often closely supervisor.
"Oh," moaned the girl in my arms. "Oh, Master."
"Please take me home, Publius, and touch me," I heard a woman, in robes of concealment, say to he who walked with her upon that street.
They hurried away.
I cried out with the glory of having her.
"Master!" she wept.
I withdrew from the girl, lifting her arms from about my neck, shuddering, gasping.
"You are ruthless. Master," she said. Then she reached out to me with her mouth, and kissed me, again and again, on the left forearm.
I stood up, and left her at my feet. I was breathing heavily.
"Wait until your Mistress comes," said the silk slave at the ring. "I shall tell her."
The girl, half sitting, half kneeling, her neck in the leash collar, her hands still bound before her, put her head against the wall. She was covered with sweat, and the smell of her pleasure. Her body was covered with deep crimson blotches. Demurely she smoothed down the hem of her tunic.