"I am not a pet,” she snapped.
Slaves are sometimes permitted wine, if they beg prettily enough for it. The slave is dependent on the master for all things, including her food. The master takes the first bite of shared food; if he should be seated, say, on a bench or chair, the slave commonly eats at his feet, kneeling beside him; sometimes she is fed by hand, particularly the first bites of food; sometimes she must eat from dishes on the floor, her head down, on all fours.
"Bread,” said the blonde, and it was fetched for her, again, by the shambling hulk of Grendel.
"How came you here?” asked Grendel.
"I was drunk, in the Pleasure Cylinder,” said Cabot, bitterly. “Peisistratus betrayed me. I awakened in the breeding shackles."
"You would decline the offer of Agamemnon, to arm and lead the humans of Earth against the Sardar,” said Grendel.
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"Honor?"
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"How then,” asked Grendel, “were you betrayed by Peisistratus?"
"I was given no opportunity to flee, to fight,” said Cabot.
"Fruitless opportunities,” said Grendel. “Would you wish Peisistratus to risk his own life, and that of his men, to abet a brief, fruitless escape, a gesture of meaningless defiance, on your part?"
"He is my enemy,” said Cabot.
"No,” said Grendel.
"He is the human of Agamemnon,” said Cabot.
"He is his own human,” said Grendel, “and one of us."
Cabot looked at him, puzzled.
"Those who would overthrow Agamemnon,” said Grendel. “As was Lord Pyrrhus, and as is Lord Arcesilaus."
The blonde looked at him, suddenly.
"You spoke unwisely, friend Grendel,” said Cabot. “She has heard, and to save her own skin, she will betray you, and Peisistratus, and Arcesilaus."
"No,” said the blonde. “No, no!"
"She is speeched,” said Cabot, “and speech enables betrayal."
Grendel turned slowly to regard the blonde.
"No!” she said. “I will not speak. And I heard nothing, nothing!"
"Secrets,” said Cabot, “are lightly revealed by free women."
"Do not fear,” said Grendel to the blonde. “I will not harm you. Though you betray me to sleen or tharlarion, to a hundred deaths, I will not harm you."
"I wish to go to Gor,” she said. “I will be safe there. I will be rich there! I will win my way with beauty, for I am beautiful and men will do as I bid them. On Gor I will be Ubara!"
"On Gor,” said Cabot, “beauty is found more often on the chain of taverners than on the thrones of states."
"I am not so stupid as to be a slave,” she said.
"Slaves,” said Cabot, “are commonly chosen not only for their beauty but for their intelligence. High intelligence much improves a woman's price on the slave block."
This is, of course, not surprising, for the higher a woman's intelligence, provided it be conjoined with profound feminine needs, the better the slave.
"I will not tell,” she said.
"It would be well to take precautions,” said Cabot.
"They will not be necessary,” she said.
"Perhaps we could arrange ticket for you,” said Cabot, “on the next transport to Gor."
"Do so!” she said.
"That is a joke,” said Cabot.
At that point, in the distance, a bar began to ring, and its ringing was taken up by other bars, and the cylinder itself seemed to ring.
"They have found the body,” said Grendel, “that of he from whom I obtained the key to your chains, he who managed the sheds in which the breeding shackles are stored."
"I shall wish you well then,” said Cabot, “for we must go our diverse ways."
"You have plans?"
"Of course."
"I think, too,” said Grendel, “that that is best, for if you are not with us, as though we were conspirators, or in league, I may purchase her life."
"How so?” asked Cabot.
"They will kill me,” said Grendel, “or capture and destroy me, but if she appears innocent in all this she may be spared."
"And how shall she appear innocent?” asked Cabot.
"I have brought rope for the purpose,” said Grendel.
"Excellent,” said Cabot. “She will then appear your innocent, hapless prisoner."
"That is what I would be!” she cried.
"Yes,” said Grendel.
"Rope me!” she cried.
Grendel turned about, and went some feet away, in the grass.
"You have never felt ropes, have you?” asked Cabot.
"No!” she snapped.
"You will find the experience interesting,” he said, “the constricting, enwrapped coils tightened on your body, the specialness of the consequent sensations, they enveloping you, the feeling of being utterly helpless, the knowledge that you are then totally at another's mercy, and such."
"He will do my bidding!” she said.
"But he need not,” said Cabot.
She turned white, and trembled.
In a moment Grendel had returned, with several light coils of rope. Of these supple circlets he freed some loops.
"Do not rope me!” she said, suddenly.
"It will be better,” said Grendel.
"Then let him rope me!” she cried, pointing at Cabot.
She is a clever little she-sleen, thought Cabot. She has a sense of what may be done. She is still aroused. In my ropes, she senses she may be irresistible to me. And perhaps she might be! All men desire absolute power over a woman, and all women desire to be in the absolute power of a given man, one to whom they long to yield, one who will see her as a helpless, possessed female, and one in whose ropes she well realizes herself such, no more than that, a helpless, possessed female, to be done with uncompromisingly as he pleases, and one who will see to it that she yields well. The female longs to submit, and the male to master.
"Have him rope me!” she said to Grendel.
How delicious and perfect to the male is the female whom he finds in his bonds!
How beautiful she is!
And the bonds need not be of cord, nor of metal or leather, of such things. Ideally they are the bonds of slavery itself.
That is how the female is in his power, truly and perfectly, and she knows herself such, in every fiber of her well-curved, embonded being.
"Now!” she cried.
She is so clever, thought Cabot. So very clever!
Grendel looked at Cabot, loops of rope dangling from one paw.
"No,” said Cabot. “Rope her."
"No!” she cried, but already the loops were being put about her, and drawn tight, pinning her small, lovely arms to her sides.
"Forgive me,” Grendel begged her.
"Make them tighter,” said Cabot.
"Oh!” she cried, squirming, regarding Cabot with fury.
"Now,” said Cabot, “look upon her. She is yours."
"Yes,” said Grendel.
"Beast!” she screamed at Cabot.
She was now well swathed with rope.
"Now make her a leash, and draw her away, behind you,” said Cabot.
"Beast, beast!” she screamed at Cabot.
A length of rope was knotted about her throat.
"In the arena,” said Cabot, “two Kur females fought, competing for the seed of a champion, and the bloodied winner was roped and led away, as might have been nothing, a mere female slave, and was joyful, that the seeding would be hers."
"So it is often done,” said Grendel.
"Do not seed me!” cried the blonde.
"The bars have rung,” said Cabot.
"Yes,” said Grendel, looking about, his ears lifted.
"Lead her away,” said Cabot. “Lead your pet away."
"I am not a pet!” she said. “I am a free woman!"
"A free woman, on a rope,” said Cabot.
"What will be done with me?” she begged.
"If you are fortunate,” said Cabot, “you will be sent to the Pleasure Cylinder, to be branded and collared, and learn to please men."