I went and stood before it, Elinor Brinton, the slave.

Briefly, through my mind flashed the memory of my former riches, of the penthouse, the Maserati, my luxuries, and education and travels, my former status and power, and then of my capture and my transportation to this rude world.

"Kneel," snapped Verna.

I did so.

Verna resnapped the leather and metal choke collar on my throat. She then threaded the leash through the ring, about three and half feet high, behind the post, brought the leash about and looped it, from the left to the right, about my neck and then rethreaded it through the ring, pulling it tight. I was bound by the neck to the post. Then she threaded the free end of the leash through the lower of the two rings, passes it about my belly, and rethreaded it tight, fastening me at the waist to the post. With the free end of the leash, keeping it taut, she then lashed my ankles together behind the post. I was bound, save that my hands were free.

Verna took the length of binding fiber from her skins, that which had formerly bound my wrist.

"Place you hands above your head," she said.

I did so.

She tied the binding fiber securely about my left wrist, took the fiber behind the post, threaded it through the highest of the two metal rings, and then, jerking my right wrist back, bound it, too, fastening me to the post. I knelt, secured.

"Docile slave," sneered Verna.

"Verna!" spoke one of the girls.

"Very well!" said Verna, irritably. "Very well!"

The first girl to leap to the center of the circle was she who had first held my leash.

She had blond hair. Her head was don, and shaking. Then she threw back her head, moaning, and reached up, clawing for the moons of Gor. The other girls too, responded to her, whimpering and moaning, clenching and unclenching their fists. The first girl began to writhe, crying out, stamping in the circle. Then another girl joined her, and another, and another. And then another! Stamping, turning, crying out, moaning, clawing at the moons, they danced. Then there were none who had not entered that savage circle, save Verna, the band's leader, proud and superb, armed and disdainful, and Elinor Brinton, a bound slave.

The first girl, throwing back her head to the moons, screamed and tore her skins to the waist, writhing.

Then, for the first time I noticed, in the center of the circle, there were four heavy stakes, about six inches in height, dark in the grass. They formed a small, but ample, square. I shuddered. They were notched, that binding fiber might not slip from them.

The first girl began to dance before the square.

I looked up into the sky. In the dark sky the moons were vast and bright. Another girl, crying out, tore her own skins to the waist and clawing, moaning, writhing, approached the square. Then another, and another!

I did not even look upon Verna, so horrified I was at the barbaric spectacle. I had not believed that women could be like this.

And then the first girl tore away her skins and danced in her golden ornaments beneath the huge, wild moons, on the grass of the circle, before the square. I could not believe my eyes. I shuddered, fearing such women.

Then suddenly, to my amazement, Verna cried out in anguish, a wild, moaning, anguished cry, and threw from herself her weapons and tore away her own skins and leaped into the circle, turning and clawing and crying out like the others. She was not other than they, but first among them! She danced savagely, clad only in her gold and beauty, beneath the moons. She cried out and clawed. Sometimes she bit at another girl or struck at her, if she dared approach the square more closely than she, writhing, enraged, but fearful, eyes blazing, dancing, they fell back from her.

She danced first among them, their leader.

Then, throwing her head back, she screamed, shaking her clenched fists at the moons.

And then, helplessly, she threw herself to the grass within the square, striking at it, biting and tearing at it, and then she threw herself on her back and, fists clenched, writhed beneath the moons.

One by one the other girls, too, violently, threw themselves to the grass, rolling upon it, and moaning, some even within the precincts of the square, then throwing themselves upon their backs, some with their eyes closed, crying out, others with their eyes open, fixed helplessly on the wild moons, some with hands tearing at the grass, others pounding the earth piteously with their small fists, sobbing and whimpering, their bodies uncontrolled, helpless, writhing, under the moons of Gor.

I found myself pulling at my bonds, suddenly aching with an inexplicable loneliness and desire. I pulled at the fiber that bound my wrists, so cruelly back; my throat pressed against the straps on my throat, almost choking me; my belly writhed under its strap; my ankles moved again one another, helpless in the leather confinement of the knotted strap. I looked up at the moons. I cried out in anguish. I wanted to be free, to dance, to cry out, to claw the moons, to throw myself on the living, fibrous, flowing grass, to writhe with these women, my sisters, to writhe with them in the frenzy of their need.

No, I cried out to myself, no, no! I am Elinor Brinton! I am of Earth! No, no! "Kajirae!" I screamed at them. "Kajirae!" "Slaves! Slaves!"

There was no fear in my voice, but almost hysterical triumph! "Slaves!" I screamed at them. "Slaves!" I then knew myself better that they! I was superior! I was above them! Though I was bound and branded I was a thousand times greater and finer than they. I was Elinor Brinton! Though I might be stripped, though I might be tied to a slave post, I was greater and finer, and of nobler stock, than they. They were naught but slaves.

"Kajirae!" I screamed at them. "Kajirae!" Slaves! Slaves!"

They paid me no attention.

I cried out at them hysterically, and then was quiet. My limbs ached, particularly my arms, tied so cruelly back, but I was not displeased. The moons fled across the black sky, burning with its bright stars. The girls lay now quietly on the grass, some still whimpering slightly, many with their eyes closed, some lying on their stomachs, their face pressed against the grass, the stain of tears on their cheek, mingling into the grass. It was colder now, and I felt chilly, but I did not mind. I was now, though bound and stripped, well pleased with myself. I had regained my self-respect. I now knew myself superior to such women, to such despicable things, as these. At last the girls, one by one, rose from the grass, drew on again their skins, and took up their weapons.

Then, Verna at their lead, they approached me.

I knelt by the post, very straight.

"It seemed to me," I said, "that your bodies moved as might have those of slave girls."

My head leaped to the side, stinging, as Verna, with all her might, slapped me. Then she looked at me. "We are women," she said.

There were tears in my eyes. I tasted a bit of blood in my mouth, where my lip had been struck against my teeth. But I did not cry out or whimper. I smiled. Then I looked away.

"Let us kill her," said one of the girls, she who held my leash before, who had been he first to enter the circle of the dance.

"No," said Verna.

Verna looked about at the other girls.

They were ready to depart.

"Bring the slave," said Verna.

"I am free," I told her.

Verna strode from the area wherein was found the circle of the dance. The other girls followed her, with the exception of the blond girl, who had held my leash. She untied my hands and then, behind my body, but not behind the post, rebound them, cruelly. I did not complain. Then she untied the strap at my ankles, freeing them, and drawing the strap about the post and through the two rings, released me from the post. By the choke leash she pulled me to my feet. I looked at her and smiled. She said nothing, but turned angrily away, and led me from the post, following Verna and her band.