My hair was combed back, and down, over my ears. It was tied in the back. He looked at me.

For a moment I was afraid he knew.

He lifted his hand a bit toward my throat, but then lowered it.

I sensed what he had wished to do. I then drew away the robing, at my throat.

"Ah," he said, softly. There was no collar there. My throat was bare of a collar!

I stood before him. I think that he found me beautiful. I was face-stripped before him. This is very meaningful to Goreans. His eyes shone.

"Let me loosed my hair before you," I whispered.

"Not here," he whispered, suddenly, hoarsely. "Back. Further back." I backed down the alleyway, before him, watching him. He was now excited. Then my back was at the end of the alleyway, a closed alleyway, a cul-de-sac, against a building.

"No," he said, suddenly. "I must not take advantage of you."

"Let it be the tiniest of kisses then," I said, softly, "once only, and only the merest touch, my lips and yours, that, so little, or all of me, and as you want me, whatever you wish."

He placed his hands, the palms of them, fiercely on the wall, one on each side of me, at my shoulders. He put down his head for a moment, fighting with himself. He then lifted his head, and looked into my eyes.

I was small before him, and weak, and female.

I felt him loosen my belt, and then it, with the attached purse, fell to the stones of the alleyway.

He reached then to the opened collar of my robing.

Of the usual garments of the free female I wore only the outer robe, the street robe. That had been decided by my master. If I were inclined to attempt an escape, even clad merely in such a way, I presumably would not get far. I would not even have been able to disrobe, among free women, to an underrobe, or sliplike robe. Beneath the street robe there would have been only a female, and a brand.

The man" s eyes blazed with the wanting of me.

To be sure, my master, even so, had taken an additional precaution with me. Suddenly, driven in his need, impassioned, he tore open my robe.

"You wear the belly chain of a slave!" he cried.

Almost at the same time he was struck heavily from behind by my master" s men. He was terribly strong. They had to strike him five times before he went down. I stood back against the wall, frightened.

One of my master" s men, from a skin, poured paga on the fallen figure. He would be transported from the alley, his arms over their shoulders. Few in the streets, given his apparent condition, and his smell, the paga souses on his garment, would think much of this. He would be taken to the back entrance of the tavern.

"Get the robe off," said the other of my master" s men.

He had already picked up the belt and purse, and thrust it in a sack. I removed the robe and he thrust if, too, with its hood, and veil, into the sack. I was then naked, except for the belly chain. Its links were heavy. Whereas it is sometimes possible for a male to slip such a chain, because of his straight hips, they stay well on females. About our waists, between the flaring of our hips and the swelling of our bosoms, they find a natural, lovely and secure mounting. This chain was locked on me with a heavy padlock, from the back. in the front, linked to the chain, and dangling down from it, over my lower belly, was a heavy, medallionlike metal disk. On this disk, so that it could be read from the front, was a large, cursive "Kef," for "Kajira," a larger version of the same letter adorning my thigh.

The fellow with the sack put it down and took the disk in his hand. He jerked on it, so that I felt the pull on the chain, and then let it drop back on my belly. He laughed.

"All fours," he said.

I went to all fours in the alley. The metal disk hung down now, swinging, below my belly.

My master" s collar, taken from the sack, was put on my neck. The belly chain was then removed from me and placed in the sack. The fellow, too, held a tunic to my mouth, and I took it in my teeth. When I left the alley there would be little that would be unusual about me. I would be just another girl, well exposed in her skimpy tunic, snugly locked in her collar, nothing unusual.

20 The Key in the Belt

"Please, Master," I said, swiftly kneeling near the entrance to the alleyway, "my master is much occupied with his business, and neglects me."

The tall, strong fellow stopped to regard me. I was the sort of woman apparently not without interest to Gorean males.

"Kind Master," I begged, "have pity on a female slave, desperate in her need." "You are naked," he observed.

"My master punishes me," I said, "for he grew weary of my bellyings and my importunings for love."

"I do not think I would send a slave like you into the streets naked," he said. "Master?" I asked.

"She might be molested," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He laughed.

I looked down, as though confused, and embarrassed.

"How long has it been since you have been touched?" he asked.

"Two weeks," I said.

"Incredible," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I whispered.

"Doubtless he has many women," the fellow speculated.

"No," I said, "only me."

"Then," said he, "it is indeed incredible."

"Thank you, Master," I said, shyly.

"To afford a slave such as you," he said, "he must be well off." "He is rich," I said.

"So why would he not have many women?" asked the fellow.

"He cares more for his business than for women," I said.

"You are quite beautiful," he said, admiring me with the openness and candor of a Gorean master.

"Thank you, Master," I said, even as a slave reddening under that gaze.

"Are you truly in desperate need?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said. That was true. My master kept me starved for sex. It seemed to be his belief that my needs, if painful, would improve me in this sort of performance. Perhaps he was right. Surely if a Gorean master were skillful in reading a woman" s body, as many are, there would be little there, now, at least in this one respect, to suggest deception. I squirmed naked before him, on my knees.

"I am sorry," he said.

I put down my head. I wished he was not truly concerned with me. Gorean masters, incidentally, almost never deprive a girl of sex, though it can, of course, be done with an end in view, for such purposes as punishment, increasing her need for a later time, or bringing her to a good, hot ready point for, say, her sale from a slave block. The deliberate starving of a woman of sex is almost unheard of on Gor. that sort of thing is, I think, more likely to be done on Earth, than Gor, and, on Earth, it seems to be practiced more frequently, interestingly enough, not on slaves, but free women. Indeed, one of the major differences between the slave and her free sister. This is not to say that a slave may not occasionally be made to beg for sex, or that she may not, upon occasion, have to beg for it. These things help her to understand that she has sexual needs, and that whether or not these needs are to be satisfied, is at the option of the master. A formula sometimes used is: "I acknowledge unequivocally and without reservation that I have sexual needs. Similarly I inform you that I want them satisfied. I beg you, Master, to satisfy them." It might be noted in this, of course, that a slave may beg for sexual satisfaction. She is free to do so, and it is quite acceptable for her to do so. Such a liberty, of course, would be unthinkable in the case of a free woman. Needless to say, the master commonly accedes to the pleas of the slave. When he himself desires sex, of course, he simply takes it, or imposes it on the slave. Her will is nothing. And she must strive to be fully pleasing. He is master; she is slave.