She pulled a bit, against the bracelets.
I am braceleted, she thought.
Even in the house of Mirus, long ago, she could not help but respond to her braceleting. Even then, however reluctantly, she had found the bracelets stimulatory. How delicious it was, how exciting it was, that feeling of being braceleted, of being helpless, utterly helpless, of having her small wrists fastened together, locked together, particularly behind her back, her beauty then so exposed, so unguarded and defenseless, in those linked, obdurate, sturdy, uncompromising bracelets — slave bracelets. It spoke to her of her vulnerability, her helplessness, of her subjection to men, of her condition, slave, of her nature, female.
I love being braceleted, she thought.
Ellen sensed that her master was then standing before her, the leash presumably in his hand, she gathering that from the tiny draw on the hood’s strap ring. Too, she did not feel the leash against her body.
“Master, may I speak?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“There is confusion in the camp,” she said. “I heard men speak. The gold for the troops in Ar has been stolen!”
“You look well,” he said, “kneeling before me in suitable position, naked, hooded, leashed, back-braceleted.”
“Master!” she protested.
“Do not concern yourself with such matters,” he said. “They are not the concern of slaves.”
“But men may seek you, for you possessed gold, coins which, it seems, may have borne the quality and weight certifications of Jad, on Cos!”
“Do not concern yourself with such matters,” he said.
“You may be seized, Master!”
“Then you will doubtless be resold, and will have another master, slut. Do not forget that you are a mere chattel. As such you are trivial and meaningless. These matters have no more to do with you than they would with a tarsk, a creature more valuable than yourself.”
“Few tarsks go for as much as five gold pieces, Master,” said Ellen.
“The gold was meaningless,” said he, “save as a gesture, as an insult to Cos, which I suspect that only now they comprehend.”
“An insult?” asked Ellen.
“Certainly,” said he. “Thus one of Ar shows his contempt for the coins of Cos, that he uses them to buy no more than a worthless slave.”
“There were silver tarsks bid for me!” said Ellen.
“That is true,” he said. “Perhaps you are worth a handful of silver tarsks.”
“Surely you purchased me for something!” said Ellen.
“Perhaps you will amuse me for a time,” he said, “until I tire of you.”
“Yes, Master,” said Ellen, sobbing.
“Know yourself a slave, little vulo,” said he.
“Yes, Master,” said Ellen. “Master.”
“Yes,” said he.
“It is your collar on me, is it not?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Perhaps you care for me a little, to put your collar on me?”
“It is common to collar slaves,” he said.
“Do I have a name?” asked Ellen.
“‘Ellen’ will do,” he said. “It will serve to summon and command you as well as any other name.”
“Is that name on my collar?” she asked.
“Do you think that would be wise?” he asked.
“No, Master,” said Ellen. She knew she had been sold under that name, that that name was on the records of scribes.
“Also, that way,” he said, “the collar may be used for an indefinite number of female chattels.”
“Yes, Master,” said Ellen, angrily.
“To be sure,” he said, “one could always use the name ‘Ellen’ for any number of kajirae.”
“Certainly, Master,” said Ellen, angrily. “May I ask what the collar says?”
“Perhaps you can make it out one day, deciphering it in a pool or mirror,” he said.
“Please, Master!” protested Ellen.
“Ah,” he said, “I had forgotten that you are illiterate.”
“Master?” she asked.
“It says,” said he, “‘I am the property of Selius Arconious, of Ar.’”
For a moment Ellen’s heart leaped within her bosom, incomprehensibly, with joy, that she would be such, and publicly designated as such. She had forgotten, for the moment, it seems, that she hated him. But then she asked, “Is that wise, Master?”
“They do not know me,” said he. “Too, a blank collar might arouse even more suspicion. Besides, it pleases me to have the little barbarian slut in my collar, and in one which identifies her as mine.”
“I hope to wear your collar worthily, Master,” said Ellen.
Then she cried out within the hood as she was drawn roughly to her feet. “Do not lie to me, little slut,” said he.
“No, Master!” she cried.
“Do you think I do not know what the women of Earth do to the men of Earth?” he asked. “You, Earth slut, will be a slave amongst slaves!”
“As Master wishes,” said Ellen. “I am his!”
“It is pleasant to own women,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” said Ellen.
“Did the leash warm you?” he asked.
“Yes, Master!” sobbed Ellen.
“Good,” he said, angrily. And then he cupped her, casually, possessively, holding her in place with his left hand behind her back. She sobbed, and whimpered, and squirmed, helpless in the bracelets. “I see that it is true,” he said.
“Please, Master,” cried Ellen, “be kind to me!”
“Be silent,” said he, “female.”
It seemed he had little intention of treating her with gentleness. He then held her by her upper left arm, not even bothering with the leash, and drew her forcibly, she stumbling, beside him. She was thusly dragged for some twenty yards. Seldom had she felt more female, thus helpless, thusly imperiously handled. What men can do with us, she thought. Then she was thrust down, on her stomach over some surface, that of seemingly a large, felled log. She felt the rough bark on her belly. She was helpless. She squirmed. He pushed up her braceleted wrists and entered her. He had told her she would be a slave amongst slaves. “Oh!” she cried. “Oh!”
He growled like an animal and she was claimed.
Then he withdrew and she sank to her knees beside the log, pressing the hood against it. She could feel particles of bark on her belly, and grass beneath her knees. She was aware of his collar on her neck.
“Oh, Master, Master,” she sobbed softly.
“There is no time,” he said. “Do not fear, Earth slut. I am looking forward to pegging you down and having you writhe and scream yourself mine. I will bring you to the point of yielding a hundred times before I permit you relief, if I choose to do so at all. I will impose a domination on you that you will never forget. When I am through with you, Earth slut, you will know who your master is.”
She wept in the hood.
“Please do not be cruel to me, Master,” she whimpered. “I am only a slave.”
“So the little barbarian slut acknowledges herself a slave?” he said.
“Yes, Master!”
“Say it,” he said.
“I am a slave, Master,” said Ellen.
“Are you obedient and docile?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Are you hot, devoted and dutiful?” he asked.
“I will do my best to be so, Master,” she said.
“Earth woman,” he laughed.
“No, Master,” said Ellen. “No more am I an Earth woman. I am now only a woman, and a slave.”
“Stand,” said he, “kajira.”
Ellen rose to her feet. She quivered. She was unsteady. She pressed her thighs together. She whimpered. “Master muchly denies me,” she whispered.
“Follow,” said he, and she felt a tug on the leash.