"Please," I said.

"Few Earthwomen," he said, "have that exquisite pleasure."

"Please," I said. "Do not speak to me so."

"Smoke your cigarette," he said, kindly.

I drew on the cigarette.

"Have you never been curious," he asked, "what it would be like, to be forced to yield yourself, utterly, to a master?"

"I hate men," I told him.

"Superb," he said.

I looked at him with irritation.

"You might be interested to know," he said, "that all indications are that you will be a fantastic pleasure slave for a master.

"I hate men!" I cried.

"Excellent," he commented.

I looked at him with fury.

I drew again on the cigarette. "What do you want with me?" I asked. Suddenly the beast made a noise. It was a rumble, a growl. I stiffened, and turned.

It has lifted its head. Its wide, pointed ears lifted. It was listening. The man and I, watched the beast, I, frightened, he, alert, cautious. His eyes seemed to meet those of the beast, and the beast seemed to look at him. Then it had lifted its lips away from its teeth, and looked away, its ears still lifted. It growled again.

"It is a sleen outside," said the man.

I trembled.

"When I was brought here," I said, "twice the band caught the scent of a sleen." The man looked at me. "It was stalking you," he said, "you, and the others." "Perhaps there were different sleen," I whispered.

"Perhaps," he said.

The beast now crouched on the straw, its nostrils wide in the leathery snout, its eyes bright and black, the ears lifted.

"It is close," said the man. He looked at me. "Sometimes the sleen will follow a quarry for pasangs, before making its strike, lurking, approaching, withdrawing, then at last, when satisfied, attacking from the darkness."

The beast growled menacingly.

To my horror I heard a snuffling behind the door, and then a whining, a scratching.

The man smiled. "It is the sleen," he said.

"Do not be frightened," he said. "We are safe in the hut."

I heard a scratching, as of heavy claws, at the door.

The small hairs on the back of my neck rose.

"The door is stout," said the man. "We are safe in the hut."

I looked to the boards, shuttered across the window. It was a small window, not more than a foot in diameter.

"The sleen was probably following the band," he said. "The trail led here." "Why doesn't he follow the panther girls?" I whispered.

"He might have," said the man, "but he did not." He gestured with his head to the beast. "Also, he may smell the beast. Sleen are sometimes curious, and not infrequently resentful of the intrusion of strange animals into what they choose to regard as their territory." There was an angry whine behind the door. This was answered by a throaty snarl from the collared beast within.

"Why doesn't he go away?" I asked.

"He may smell the beast," said the man.

I took another draw on the cigarette.

"Or," said the man, "he may smell food within."

"Food?" I asked.

"You and I," said he.

My hand shook with the cigarette, spilling ashes.

"We are safe within," he said.

"Don't you have any weapons, powerful weapons," I asked, "with which you might kill it?"

The man smiled. "It is unwise to carry weapons of power on the surface of Gor," he said.

I did not understand this.

"But," he smiled, "we are safe within."

I hoped that he was right.

"You are lovely in your robe," he said.

"Thank you," I said.

I could no longer hear the sleen now.

I ground out the cigarette on the table, and looked at him, coolly. "I was not brought to Gor, was I," I asked, "to be a simple female slave, simply to be given, or sold, to a master?"

"I told you," he reminded me, "that at the age of seventeen you were marked for abduction. In any event, you would have been brought to Gor as a female slave." "But in my case," I pressed, "there were, were there not, additional considerations?"

"Yes," he said.

I leaned back. I suddenly felt sharp, and cool. There was something they needed of me. I now could bargain. I now could negotiate. I might yet be able to arrange for my return to Earth. I must be clever. I must be shrewd. I had power. "Would you like to discuss business with me?" I asked.

"You are very beautiful in your robe," he said.

"Thank you," I said. I felt a certain sense of triumph now.

"Would you like another cigarette?" he asked. I did not want one.

"Yes, thank you," I said.

He gave me another cigarette, and I took it. He closed the small, flat golden cigarette box and struck a small match. I leaned forward, and he bent forward to light the cigarette. The flame from the match was but an inch short of the cigarette. He looked at me. "You are prepared to negotiate?" he asked. I smiled at him. "Perhaps," I said.

He brought the match toward the cigarette, and I bent forward for the light. The match dropped.

I looked at him, startled.

Suddenly, with fury, he, with his full strength, slapped me across the side of the face, literally knocking me from the bench and against the wall. Instantly he was on me and tore the robe from my body. Then, insolently, brutally, he threw me to my belly in the dirt. He knelt across my body and I felt my hands jerked behind my body. With the binding fiber he had earlier removed, he lashed them with ferocious cruelty behind my body. Then he sprang to his feet and kicked me in the side. Terrified, in pain, I rolled to my side, looking up at him in horror. He bend down and seized me by the hair and the left arm and thrust me toward the beast.

"Feed!" he cried.

I screamed, thrust toward the wide, fanged jaws of the beast.

He jerked me back, cruelly, on my knees, and I saw the jaws snapping at me, saw the curved teeth, the hideous tongue and eyes. Again and again the jaws snapped at me, once grazing my body, as I was held just outside the perimeter of the beast's chain. It pulled against the chain and collar, trying to reach me. Then, angrily, the man threw me backward in the dirt, across the room, on my side.

"Do not feed!" he cried to the beast.

Then, from a hook on the wall, he took a large piece of meat, bosk meat, and threw it to the animal. It began tearing at it with its fangs and claws. It could have been my body.

The man approached me.

I lay on my side in the dirt, naked and bound, looking up at him in horror. In his hand he held an uplifted slave whip.

"You told me you were free," he said.

"No! No!" I cried. "I am a slave! A slave!"

"A hundred arrow points is too much for such a slave," he said.

Terrified, I struggled to my knees and put my head down, to his feet. "Kiss my feet," said he, "Slave."

I did so.

"The proud Miss Brinton," he said.

I trembled at his feet.

"Are you prepared to negotiate?" he asked.

I put my forehead against his feet, to the straps of his sandals, my hair falling across his sandals.

"Command me," I begged.

He stepped away from me. I lifted my head. I saw that he took the red-silk robe, and cast it into the fire. Kneeling in the dirt, naked and bound, tears in my eyes, I watched it burn.

He regarded me.

I put down my head. "Command me, Master," I begged, Elinor Brinton, a cowering Gorean slave girl.

"It is our intention," he said, "to have you trained as a slave girl, to give exquisite pleasures to a master. And then you will be placed in a certain house."

"Yes, Master?" I asked.

"And," he said, "in this house, you will poison its master."

I looked at him with horror.

Suddenly there was a horrifying squeal and a splintering of wood.

I screamed.

The head of a sleen, eyes blazing, its long needlelike teeth snapping, thrust through the small, broken window, the shutters splintered to the side. Snarling, it began to wiggle its shoulders, like a cat, through the opening. The beast at the side of the wall went wild.