She seemed to shrink back in the bonds.

"Please, untie me," she said.

I thrust apart her knees.

"Oh!" she said.

I held her knees apart, not permitting her to close them.

"I do not want to be tied like this!" she cried. "I did not know it would belike this. I am too helpless! Please, untie me! Free me! Loosen my bonds! Do notkeep me tied like this! No! Please!"

I regarded her.

She looked at me in fear. She squirmed, helplessly.

"What do you know of me?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she said, "only that you are my master."

"What might I do to you?" I asked.

"Anything," she said.

I withdrew my hands, permitting her to close her knees, which she did,immediately, clenching them fearfully together.

"You have tied me like a pig," she said.

"The pig," I said, "is not a Gorean animal. To be sure, you are trussed ratherlike a she-tarsk."

"You have tied me, then," she said, "like a she-tarsk!"

"Do not flatter yourself," I said, "that you enjoy a status as high as eitherthat of the pig or she-tarsk. Your status is lower than that of either. It isthat of the female slave."

"You have bound me, then," she said, "as a slave!"

"Now you speak the truth," I informed her.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

"Whatever I wish," I said.

She moaned. She pulled weakly at her wrist tethers, fastening her wrists to herankles.

"Do you begin to sense now," I asked, "what it might for a woman to be bound bya man?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"Can you escape?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.

"Are you powerless?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said. "I am powerless, totally."

"What will be done to you?" I asked.

"I do not know! ' she wept. "I am helpless. I am a slave. I am at your mercy. Itis you who will decide what is to be done with me."

"Perhaps I will whip you, lashing you with my belt," I said. "Perhaps I willkick you, again and again. convincing you of your worthlessness. Perhaps I shallkneel across your body, slapping you, methodically, again and again, until youbeg for mercy. Perhaps I shall merely, for my amusement, beat you senseless."

"Please, Master, no," she said.

"Perhaps it shall be the quirt," I said. "Perhaps I shall us the quirt on you,lengthily, as on a recalcitrant she-kaiila."

"No, Master," she said. "Please, no, Master! ' "Are you recalcitrant?" I asked.

"I am not recalcitrant," she said. "I am docile, and obedient. I am ready toplease you, and I desire to please you."

"Perhaps I will butcher you," I said. "Perhaps I will take you.

She looked at me, in horror.

"Would you prefer to be butchered or taken?" I asked.

"Taken, Master," she said. "I beg to be taken."

"The taking of a free woman," I asked, "in which, to some extent, her dignity,pride and status are respected, or the taking of a slave?"

"I am a slave, Master," she said. "I beg that of a slave."

I looked at her knees, clenched closely together. "Spread your knees apart,widely," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Now beg," I told her.

"I beg," she said.

In moments it was necessary to thrust her hair, balled and wadded, into hermouth, and I put my hand, too, over her mouth. Her eyes were wild. She kickedwildly at the pliant, braided black leather, again and again. Then, mercifully,I unbound her limbs and I let her straighten her trembling in the blankets. Withone finger I pulled the wet hair from her mouth. She was gasping, andshuddering. I held her closely for a few minutes that she might, while thuswarmed and sheltered, make some adjustment to this new dimension, which she haddiscovered in her being.

"What was it?" she whispered.

"It was a small one," I reassured her.

"What was it?" she whispered.

"It was the first, I think, of your slave orgasms," I said. I then rose from herside and threw her the tiny slave tunic. "Put it on," I said. She did so, and Ithen lifted her gently in my arms and carried her to the chain. I put her downthere, on her side, softly, in the grass. When I lifted the opened collar toplace it about her throat, she put her hands on my wrists, and softly kissed myhands. She looked at me, her eyes wondrous, and soft.

"I did not know it could be like that," she said.

"It was only a small thing," I said.

"There could be more?" she asked.

"You have not yet begun to learn what it can be, to be a slave," I said.

She looked at me, frightened.

I then snapped the collar about her throat.

"Do you know, ultimately," I asked, "Who will prove to be your one besttrainer?"

"No, Master," she said.

"You, yourself," I said, "the girl, herself, eager to please, imaginative andintelligent, monitoring her own performances and feelings, striving lovingly toimprove and refine them. You yourself will be largely responsible for makingyourself the superb slave you will become."

"Master?" she asked.

"The collar," I said, touching it, "is put on from without, but what itencircles, the slave, comes from within."

"Master?" she asked.

Slavery," I told her, "true slavery, comes from within, and you, my lovelylittle red-haired beast, I assure you, as was evidenced by your behavior andperformances this night, are a true slave. Do not fight your slavery. Allow itfreely and spontaneously, candidly, sweetly and untrammeled, to manifest itself.

It is what you are."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"It, too," I said, "will save you many bouts with the lash."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I then turned about and left her, on the chain. "Master!" she called, but I didnot turn back. She would stay there, on the coffle, where I bad put her. She wasonly a slave.

I returned to my blankets and lay down again, to sleep for a few Ehn before thecamp began to stir.

Nothing of importance had transpired. I had merely done a favor for Grunt, myfriend, opening a slimly bodied, red-haired girl for him, one of his slaves.

To be sure, she was pretty, and first on the coffle.

14 It is a Good Trading; Pimples; I Learn Something of the Waniyanpi; CornStalks; Sign; Grunt and I Will Proceed East

The red-haired girl cried out in pain and fear, struck from her knees back inthe grass by the plump, scornful woman of the red savages, a sturdy-leggedmatron of the Dust Legs. She looked up at her in terror. Slave girls know thatthey have most to fear from free women.

"Wowiyutanye!" hissed the Dust-Leg woman at the frightened girl lying on herside in the grass before her.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl in Gorean, uncomprehendingly.

The men at the trading point scarcely paid them any attention.

I sat nearby, a blanket spread out before me, on which I had spread out variousof the trade goods, mostly mirrors, dyes and beads this afternoon, which I hadbrought into the Barrens.

The Dust-Leg woman threw the girl to her right side in the grass and pulled upthe tunic on her left thigh. The girl, terrified, did not resist. "Inahan!" called the Dust-Leg woman to the others about, pointing to the brand on thegirl's thigh. "Guyapi!"

"Ho," said one of the men, agreeably. "Inahan," agreed another.

"Winyela!" announced the woman.

"Inahan," said more than one man.

"Cesli!" said the woman scornfully to the girl.

"Please do not hurt me, Mistress," said the girl, in Gorean.

"Ahtudan!" cried the woman at her, angrily, and then she spat upon her.

"Yes, Mistress," said the red-haired girl. "Yes, Mistress!" She then pulled upher legs and looked down, into the grass.

The Dust-Leg woman turned away from her and came over to where I sat behind theblanket. She beamed at me. The Dust Legs, on the whole, are an affable,openhearted and generous people. They tend to be friendly and outgoing.