“Yes, Master,” she said.
“There is a bucket, surely, for your wastes,” I said.
“I must use the dung cart,” she said.
“I see,” I said.
“Why has Master Pertinax not come to see me?” she asked.
“I do not know,” I said. “Would you like to see him?”
“As I am now?” she said.
“How else?” I said.
“I am collared!” she wept.
“You were collared before,” I reminded her.
“But now I am truly collared,” she said. “I am a slave.”
“You think of Pertinax?” I said.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Doubtless you are distressed, should he see you as you are now, but, I think, still, you would like to see him.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Perhaps you think he would sympathize with you, would be horrified at the fate which is now yours?” I said.
“I do not know,” she said.
“I suspect,” I said, “he would think it a fate you have earned, and one which you richly deserve.”
“I do not know,” she said.
“Perhaps you recall,” I said, “kneeling before him, and ministering with your lips and tongue to his feet?”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
In the performance of even so simple an act, a woman, to her uneasiness and astonishment, so before a male, can sense herself in her proper place in nature, and can sense herself becoming irremediably aroused.
“May I speak, Master?” asked Cecily.
“Yes,” I said.
“I could speak to Master Pertinax,” said Cecily, to the slave. “I could ask him to visit you.”
“I am no longer a free woman,” she said. “He could no longer respect me.”
“True,” I said, “nor should he, but he might find you of interest.”
“Of interest!” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” I said, “as a slave.”
“I dream of myself at his feet,” she said. “I dream of myself naked in his arms!”
“In a collar?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “in a collar!”
“I could ask him to see you, when the grooms are out,” said Cecily.
“Tell him to bring a switch,” I said.
I was reasonably sure that Saru, whatever might be the momentums and the future of the journey on which she was embarked, would try to turn Pertinax to her will, perhaps even to the foolishness of attempting an escape.
She had not yet learned that there is no escape for the Gorean slave girl.
To be sure, I suspected that she now thought of Pertinax rather differently than she had in the earlier phases of their relationship, being now much aware, in the manner a slave will find herself aware, and must be aware, that he was a man.
I would be curious to know, if he saw fit to call on her, if she would immediately, in his presence, go to first obeisance position.
If she did not, I trusted he would use the switch on her, liberally.
“I do not know if you would now recognize Pertinax,” I said.
“Master?” she asked.
“He is different now,” I said. “He helps with the logging. He uses the ax, mightily. He is becoming bronzed. His muscles harden. Were he now to take you in his arms you would know yourself helpless, and held.”
“And would I know myself slave?” she asked.
“You would be slave, and would know yourself slave,” I said.
She regarded me, frightened.
“Would you like for me to invite Master Pertinax to visit you?” asked Cecily.
“Yes,” said the slave. “Please! Please!”
“You would like to see him, I gather,” I said.
“Yes!” she said.
“Do you beg?” I asked.
“‘Beg’?” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes,” she said, “I beg it.”
“As a slave?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Who begs?” I asked.
“Saru begs,” she said.
“Humbly?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“As the slave she is?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“With lowered head?”
“Yes,” she said, putting her head down. “Please tell Master Pertinax that Saru, the slave, as the slave she is, with lowered head, begs Master Pertinax to see her, humbly begs it.”
“Cecily,” I said, “you may inform Pertinax of the petition of a stable girl.”
“Yes, Master,” said Cecily, happily.
I heard, outside, the bellowing of a tharlarion.
“We shall withdraw,” I said.
“May I kiss your feet, Master?” said Saru.
“No,” I said. “You are filthy.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
I then left the stable, followed by Cecily.
“Do you think, Master,” asked Cecily, “that Master Pertinax will attend on the slave?”
“I suspect so,” I said, “and I trust he brings his switch.”
“Yes, Master,” said Cecily, delighted. “Whence now we?”
“There is a warm pool in the forest, nearby, within the wands,” I said. “Several use it, the “strange men,” and others. It was shown to me by Tajima, for he often visits its vicinity, though for what reason other than the water I know not. You may bathe me there, and freshen yourself, as well, and then we might, in a shallow place, splash a little.”
“Yes, Master!” she laughed.
“We will later,” I said, “return to the hut and you will then cook for me.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“And after your work,” I said, “we will devote the evening to blanket sport.”
“I trust I will be found pleasing on the blanket,” she said.
“If you are not,” I said, “you will be lashed.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“I am thinking of buying a slave for Pertinax,” I said. “There was a brunette on the chain of a fellow named Torgus, whom I met on the beach. She seemed ready for a master.”
She was a former high woman of Ar, who, with several others, all embonded, and their hair shortened, had been taken from Ar, when the rising had occurred in the city. Had they been caught in the city they would have doubtless been impaled, or worse, as profiteers, traitresses, collaborators, and such.
“I think, Master,” she said, “Master Pertinax might prefer another slave.”
“Another slave,” I said, “might be otherwise owned.”
“True,” she said.
“One slave is as good as another,” I said.
“I doubt that,” she said.
“It is true,” I said, “that some sell for more than others.”
“Would you sell me?” she asked.
“What am I offered?” I asked.
“I shall endeavor to be so good on the blanket,” she said, “that you would have no desire to sell me!”
“You do fit well in my arms,” I said, “and you do have a luscious cubic content, and you moan and squirm well.”
“I cannot help such things, Master,” she said.
“Nor should you,” I said.
“No, Master,” she said. “Master.”
“Yes?” I said.
“Tomorrow,” she said, “may I seek out Master Pertinax, and inform him of the petition of a stable slave?”
Pertinax was currently housed in one of the barracks occupied by the loggers.
“You will wait three days,” I said.
“Master!” she protested.
“Three days,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Give her some days to fear,” I said, “that you have forgotten, or were forbidden to contact Pertinax, or that he, informed of the petition, chose to ignore it. Let her ponder such possibilities, and others.”
“But she will be tormented, will be in misery,” said Cecily.
“Yes,” I said.
“Is it not time we bathed?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “The stable was terrible.”