"Surely then," she said, "You must be sensitive to our plight, imbonded women ofEarth."
"Women of Earth have often been imbonded," I said. "Bondage is no novelty forthe Earth female. Her fittingness for the collar has long been recognized. OnEarth at this very moment many women are held in public bondage, and manyothers, it is difficult to conjecture their number, serve in secret bondages.
Too, throughout the course of human history, in the past, as well as today, manywomen have found themselves enslaved. Your predicament, or plight, if youplease, is thus far from unique. You, and those with you, are merely anotherhandful of slaves, imbonded females, merely new and fresh instances of ahistorically familiar commodity.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I removed my hand from her throat and face. She gasped, fearfully, but did notstir from my side. Her breasts heaved, under the thin rep-cloth of the slavetunic.
"You may now begin again," I said. "Return to your original position. You mayspeak in English."
"Yes, Master," she whispered. Fearfully she then crept from my side. In a momentshe knelt as she had before, a few feet from me, in the grass" Master," she said.
"Yes?" I said.
"I am a slave girl," she said. "I have been sent to your blankets."
"Excellent," I said. "You are a pretty slave.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"Approach, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said, and, on her hands and knees, crawled to my side.
I then took her in my arms and, as I had before, put her to her back, beside me.
"I am a virgin," she said.
"I know," I said. "The results of your body's testing, shortly after yourpurchase, were made known to me by Grunt, your master."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Such information is public among Masters," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I held the cloth of the slave tunic, moving it between my fingers. "This isthin, flimsy cloth," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"It reveals you well," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"And you have pretty legs," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"You are tense," I said.
"Forgive me, Master," she said.
"Do you know what is to be done to you tonight?" I asked.
"I am to be deflowered," she said.
"That is a ridiculous expression," I said. "It is absurd. Rather, you are to beopened, an act which, in the case of a slave, is in the interest of all men."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"This is unlikely to be painful," I said, "but, if it is, the pain will bebrief, and the soreness will be temporary."
"I understand," she said.
"If you should prove unusual in some respect, although this is extremely rare,"
I said, "we can, tomorrow, grind one of Grunts trading knives into a lancet."
"I understand," she shuddered. This seemed to me better than leaving the matterto the red savages. They tend to be impatient in such respects, even with theirown women. A homemade lancet, sterilized in boiling water, seemed to mepreferable to a sharpened kailiauk bone or a whittled lodge peg.
"But your penetration is, obviously," I said, "only a mere technicality."
"Obviously," she said, I thought a bit ironically.
"But," I said, "beyond that incidental triviality, do you understand why youhave been sent to my blankets, what the purpose is from your point of view, whatis the purpose on which you are to be intent?"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"What?" I asked.
"I am to please you with my body," she said.
"You do not understand," I said.
"Master?" she asked.
"That is far too limited," I said. "You are to please me with the wholeness ofyour womanhood, in the fullness of your slavery."
"The Gorean master, then," she said, "would desire, and own, all of me."
"Yes," I said.
"I had hoped it might be so," she whispered.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing, Master," she whispered.
"It is only on your former world, if anywhere," I said, "that a man isinterested only in a woman's body. "Yes, Master," she said.
"And I doubt that," I said, "even on that muchly perverted dismal orb."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"To be sure," I said, "the bodies of women are not without interest, and theylook well in slave chains."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"But you must understand that what wears the chains, so curvaceous, beautifuland helpless, is the whole woman."
"I understand, Master," she said.
"You do not have a name yet, do you?" I asked.
"No," she said. "My master has not yet named me."
"What was your former name?" I asked.
"Millicent Aubrey-Welles," she said. "Oh!" she said. "Your hand!"
"Do you objects?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I am only a slave. I may not object."
"That is an unusual name," I said. My hand rested, softly, on her left thigh.
"Such names are not unusual in the social stratum which once was mine," shesaid.
"I see," I said.
"My family is from the upper classes, the very upper classes, of my world."
"I see," I said.
"I now lie beside you in a slave tunic," she said. "But I am an upper-classgirl, a very upper-class girl. You must understand that."
"Once you were," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You are now only a nameless slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I smiled.
"I was a debutante," she said.
"I understand," I said.
"We are used to consolidate family alliances," she said, and are given asawards, in matings to energetic young men, often rising in our fathers' companies."
"A form of slavery," I said, "but without the honesty of the collar."
"Yes," she said, bitterly.
"Women have often been used for such purposes," I said.
"My aunt told me that it was all that I was good for," she said.
"Your aunt was mistaken," I said.
She gasped. My hand moved higher on her thigh.
She controlled her breath. My hand, now, was again still.
"We, of course," she said, "would be permitted our clubs, our activities, ourparties, our affairs."
"Yes," I said.
"But it would be a meaningless existence," she said, "meaningless." "Oh!" shesaid.
My fingers now rested on her brand. "What is this?" I asked.
"My brand." she said.
"You must be a slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Your existence on Gor," I said, "you will find far from meaningless. You willfind it quite meaningful, I assure you."
She shuddered.
"It is rather something else which you will find is meaningless on Gor," I said.
"What, Master?" she asked.
"You, yourself," I said.
"Me?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "for you will be only an article of property, a meaningless,purchasable trinket, a worthless bauble, an owned woman, a slave."
She looked at me with horror.
"Surely you are aware that you may be purchased or sold, or bartered, or givenaway, or commanded, as men please, that you are naught but an imbonded woman, atotally meaningless slave?"
"Yes, Master," she moaned.
"Did you wear a white gown, of ankle length, when you were presented as adebutante?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
My hand was now tight upon her brand. "Say," I said, "I am now naught but abranded slave on Gor."
"I am now naught but a branded slave on Gor," said the girl.