"Later," I told her. "I have not yet begun to warm you."

"Yes, Master," she whispered, frightened.

Later, toward morning, near dawn, I awakened, Evelyn's lips so intimate upon me.

During the night I had unchained her, save for the steel and chain on her left ankle.

She awakened me as I had instructed her. It is pleasant to be awakened in that fashion. I put my hands down to her hair, as she pleasured me.

During the night I had taught her some small things, some techniques, little, simple things, for her mouth and hands, and breasts, her hair, her lips, and feet, and tongue. They might help her, I thought, to survive in Pembe's tavern. Most importantly I had tried to impress upon her the fundamental importance of submission, and that she was a slave girl. All else, for most practical purposes, follows from that.

I cried out, softly, and she looked up, pleased that she had made me do that.

"Finish your work, Slave," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

My hands knotted in her hair, tightly, holding her helplessly to me. Then I released her.

I pulled her up to me, and, in the dim light of the alcove, filtering through the red curtain from the slatted grilles in the roof of the main room, wiped her mouth with her hair.

"It is morning, Master," she whispered.

"Yes," I said.

I held her arms, as she looked down at me.

"Speak," I told her.

She then, whispering, said the following. I had taught it to her last night.

He is Master, and I am Slave.

He is owner, and I am owned.

He commands, and I obey.

He is to be pleased, and I am to please.

Why is this?

Because he is Master, and I am Slave.

I took her and put her to her back, beside me. I looked down into her eyes.

"Good morning, Slave," I said.

"Good morning, Master," she said.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked.

"In the little time you permitted me to sleep," she said, "I never slept better before in my life."

"Did you dream?" I asked.

"I dreamed I was a slave," she said. "And then I awakened, and found that it was true."

I smiled at her.

"I am a slave," she said, "you know."

"Yes," I said.

"When I awakened this morning," she said, "I knew that it was true. You taught it to me last night."

"Do you think free women could have felt what you felt?" I asked.

"Never," she said, "for they are not slaves." She looked up at me. "What I felt were the feelings of a slave in the arms of her master. Those are feelings no free woman will ever know."

"Unless she is put in bondage," I said.

"Yes, Master," she smiled. Then she said, "How I pity them, those poor free woman, such as I was. How ignorant they are. No wonder they are so hostile to men. Would not any woman hate a man who did not have the strength to put her in a collar?"

"Perhaps," I said. I thought of a girl once known, one who once had been my free companion. I thought of her cruelty to me once, in the house of Samos, when she had thought me helpless and crippled. She had once been the daughter of Marlenus of Ar, but he had disowned her, for once, when she had been the helpless slave of the forest girl, Verna, she had begged to be purchased, a slave's act. Rather than submit to this stain upon his honor he, the Ubar of glorious Ar itself, had sworn against her, upon his sword and upon the medallion of his office as well, the fierce oath of disownment. She lived now, free, but deprived of citizenship, sequestered in Ar. Her left thigh would still bear the brand of Treve, for once, long ago, she bad fallen slave to Rask of Treve, a captain and tarnsman. I wondered if he had made her yield well as a slave, when he had owned her. I did not doubt it. I thought the brand of Port Kar might look well upon her body, placed above that of Treve. I wondered how she might look in scarlet silk, dancing as a slave before any men.

"We belong in collars," said Evelyn.

I heard, outside the curtain, the sounds of the early morning. Tables were being moved aside, that the floor might be cleaned. This work is usually done by paga attendants. The girls, at this time, are usually asleep, chained in their kennels.

"It is morning," I said.

"You are going to go in a moment, aren't you," she asked, "leaving me behind, a chained slave?"

"Of course," I told her, "paga girl."

"Don't go yet," she said. "I beg you, Master."

"Very well," I said.

"I wear Pembe's collar," she said, touching the encircling steel on her neck. "I would wear yours."

I looked at her.

"Surely what you did to me last night," she said, "means something to you?"

"It was only a night's pleasure with a paga girl," I said.

"Oh," she said.

"Any Gorean male could do it to you," I said.

"Make me yield like that," she asked, "as such a slave?"

"Of course," I told her, "Slave Girl."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"What do you think now of your collar?" I asked.

"I hate it," she said. "And I love it!"

"You love your collar?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "I love it" She looked up at me. "I love being a slave," she said. "I love being enslaved. I love being forced to yield, and to obey men."

"I see that it is appropriate that you wear a collar," I said.

"Yes." she said, defiantly. "It is fully appropriate."

"You know why it is fully appropriate?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, "because I am a true slave."

"Yes," I said, "Slave."

"And yet," she said. "I am an Earth girl." She put her bands at the collar. "How cruel that I should be put in a collar!" She looked up at me. "Will it never be taken off?" she asked.

"Undoubtedly," I said.

"Ah," she said.

"To be replaced with another," I said.

"Oh," she said. She looked up at the wall, to her right, at the slave whip hanging there, on its peg. "You did not whip me," she said.

"Do you wish to be whipped?" I said.

"No," she said, "no!" She had felt the whip. She then looked again at me. "I suppose," said she, "that I will be bought and sold many times."

"Doubtless," I told her.

"Do you think men will ever free me?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"The collar is right on you," I said.

She touched it. "Yes," she said, "it is right on me. And you knew it immediately, didn't you, you beast? That is why you made me, when I thought I was free, serve you as a naked paga slave."

"It seemed fitting," I said, "that your slavery be made manifest."

"Of course," she said. "You are a Gorean master."

"Any Gorean male looking upon you," I said, "whether you wore a collar or not, would see that you should be a slave."

"And now I am a slave," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"I do not object," she said.

"It does not matter whether you object or not," I said.

"True," she smiled.

I heard men moving about, outside, cleaning the floor. I sat up.

"Do not go, Master," she begged.

"I must be on my way," I told her.

"Leaving me here?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Please remain but a bit longer," she begged.

"Would you detain me?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "with the charms of a slave."

"You do not speak as an Earth girl," I said.

"I am no longer an Earth girl," she said. "I am now only a Gorean slave," she said.

"It is true," I said.

She slipped down my body and began, piteously, to kiss me.

"I do not have time," I told her.

"Dally, please dally," she begged, "if only for a few moments more."

I saw that she feared to be left behind. She looked up at me, miserably.

"You now begin to understand, do you not," I asked, "something of the meaning of your collar?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Surely now," I said, "you would choose freedom."