There is the raising and lowering of the warp threads to form the lines between which the weft is placed. There is the flinging back and forth of the shuttle, inserting the weft. There is the moving of the batten, attached to the reed, thrusting the weft back and locking it in place, Too, one must feed the cloth properly and remove it correctly. One must attend to the rollers, the weights and stretchers.

I suddenly became aware that hands were unlacing the slave sack.

"You are Tiffany, aren't you?" said a voice. "Come out of there." "Yes, Master," I said. It was one of the mill officials. He Was over ten work chains.

"Why aren't you at your loom?" he asked.

"I don't know, Master," I said.

"what were you doing in there?" he asked.

"I don't know, Master," I said. "Perhaps I was being punished." "what for?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"Come along," he said. "Aemilianus, the nephew of Mintar, is in the mill." "What is he doing here?" I asked.

"It is supposedly merely a surprise inspection," he said, "but one supposes there is something more to it."

I then, almost running, hurried after him, returning to my loom.

"Borkon should be trounced," he said.

I quickly obeyed.

Borkon, not looking pleased at all, was standing nearby.

"Step forth, here, child," said the young man, "and turn slowly before me." I complied, inspected as a naked slave. I saw Emily at the loom next to mine. The shackle had been removed from her left ankle. She was standing near her loom, naked. She held her tunic in her right hand.

"Borkon, you sly fellow," chided the young man, "you have been holding out on us."

He who had fetched me from the slave sack, Borkon's immediate superior, cast him a glowering look.

"You are Tiffany, are you not?" asked the young man. said the well-dressed young man, in short, silken mantle, with a golden "Here is the maid from Loom chain her. Now, child, stand here, the silken tunic, clasp at the left "No, do not and remove your tunic"

"Yes, Master," I said.

"You may kneel," he said. Swiftly I did so. "You are pretty, my dear," he said. "You may open your knees.

Swiftly I did so.

He then turned to Emily. "You may kneel, Emily," ~ said. Swiftly she knelt. "You, too; are pretty," he smiled Swiftly she opened her knees, baring to Him tender intimacies, enslaved, and the sweet interior softness of her thighs.

"Your name, "Emily,' is very beautiful," he said. "As you probably know, it is a barbarian corruption of nyge, my name. It seems that fate has thrown us together." The gens name the clan name.

"Perhaps, Master," she said, frightened. "Thank you, Master."

"And you are a barbarian, are you not, Tiffany?" he asked "Yes, Master," I said.

"And a very pretty one," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"Can you believe it, Borkon," asked the young man, "if were not for hearsay information, casual remarks overheard at the office, I would not even have known that two such beauties graced our looms."

Borkon was silent "These are the two beauties of the mill," said the your man to a tall, stout fellow standing nearby.

"They are certainly pretty," said the stout fellow. "But they have, in my opinion, many lovely women at the looms." stout fellow was the mill master. I had seen him only twice before in the previous five months.

"These are the best of the current crop," said the your man.

"Perhaps," said the mill master.

"Have them sent to my house," said the young man, and turned away.

Emily and I looked at one another, frightened.

Borkon looked angry. Luta was beaming.

"I beg to please you, Master," said Luta, putting herself the feet of Borkon. The chain was on her left ankle, go behind her; by it she was fastened to the loom. She had her head down, kissing at his feet. Never before, as far as I knew had she been so bold. It was no secret in the mill, of course that she was the slave of Borkon. Indeed, she had been since that first day in the yard, some five months ago.

"what need have I of a tarsk sow?" he snarled.

She lifted her head to him, lovingly, pleadingly. I saw that the diet and exercise had shaped her excitingly. Her face, in its plainness and homeliness, seemed somehow, now, in its softness, its tenderness, its vulnerability, very beautiful. "Take me then to your lair and rut with me there, Master," she said. "I beg to be the tarsk sow to your boar."

He looked down at her, startled. "Perhaps," he said.

I felt a slave bracelet closed about my left wrist. The companion bracelet, on its three links of chain, was then closed about the right wrist of Emily. We looked at one another, frightened.

"Come along, Girls," said the fellow who had fetched me forth from the slave sack, he who was Borkon's immediate superior.

"Yes, Master," said Emily.

"Yes, Master," I said.

We then, naked, braceleted together, carrying our slave tunics, followed him down the long aisle between the looms.

26 I Must Get Up Early For School

I tried to hold the head of the man in my bands, and kiss at him, and lick at the side of his neck, but he, engaged in conversation, brushed me to the side. I knelt back, restraining a whimper. I wanted to touch him. I was a slave He would not permit me to do so.

Teela, first girl, from across the room, signaled to me, and I, bowing, slipped back, rose to my feet and hurried to her side.

"Wine," said she, "to the master."

I hurried to the serving table and fetched a vessel of wine.

I then went behind the feasting table, behind which the men sat, talking. Some musicians were playing, at one side of the room. I knelt behind the young Aemilianus. "Wine, Master?" I whispered. "Yes," said he, extending his goblet. "Thank you, Tiffany," he said. "Yes, Master," I said, and withdrew. The courtesy of Aemilianus, a habit with him, probably a function of the gentleness of his upbringing, in no way affected the totality of the bondage in which his girls were kept. whereas one need not thank a slave, one may, of course, if one wishes, thank them. From the point of view of the girl, since she knows she is in a collar, being treated with courtesy can sometimes be more frightening than being treated with rudeness or cruelty, or, as is more often the case, with gentle, intimate, absolutely unqualified authority. Being a slave she knows that a master's invitation to remove a garment is equivalent to a categorical command to strip. She hastens to obey.

I went then, at a sign from Teela, after replacing the wine vessel on the serving table, to the side of the room, where I knelt down beside Emily. An Aim or so earlier we had been in the kitchen. "Stand straighter, Girls," had said Teela, inspecting us. "You are not bending over looms now."

"You are pretty in your slave silk, Emily," had said Teela.

"Thank you, Mistress," she had said.

"You, too, Tiffany," said Teela.

"Thank you, Mistress," I had said. We both wore scarlet pleasure silk. It was diaphanous, and left little doubt as to the lineaments of our figures. We wore the collar of Aemilianus.

We now belonged to him. Twelve copper tarsks for each of us had been transferred to the accounts of Mill 7. On our left ankles we each wore a tied string of slave bells. These jangled sensuously when we moved. On our upper left arms we each wore a coiled, barbaric, snakelike arrnlet.

"Although you have been purchased as house girls," said Teela, and surely we need more of them around here, you will also be expected upon occasion, as tonight, to serve at dinner. Indeed, I suspect that the Master has more in mind from you than simple domestic services."