"Please," I wept.
"Were you given permission to speak?" he asked.
"No," I whispered.
"Perhaps I do not wish to hear you speak," he said. He was opening, and then smoothing out, and folding the bit of wet silk I had had thrust in my mouth. It was then in a soft, damp, layered, folded form some six or seven inches square. He put it beside me, beside my left hip.
"May I speak?" I asked. I then realized that no gag was needed to silence me. It could be done to me as simply and effectively by the will, or mere whim, of men such as there. By such men I could be silenced by a mere word, or a gesture or glance.
"Remove her bells," he said to Hercon. "Anklet her. The virgin anklet." "Please," I said.
"Very well," he said.
"What is this all about?" I begged. "What are you going to do with me, really?" I felt Hercon" s strong fingers working the thong on my left ankle. I heard the rustle of bells.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"Teibar," he said.
I moved my head in frustration. The collar, so close, and heavy, and confining, was on my neck. I heard the movement of the chain, behind me, where it dangled over the edge of the table.
"But what are you?" I begged.
"Human," he said, "as are you, in your petty, nasty way."
"Why do you hate me?" I asked.
"Because of what you are, and what you would do to men," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"Destroy them," he said.
"I am not going to destroy men," I said.
"I know," he said, "now."
"I don" t understand!" I wept.
Then I felt the bells removed from my ankle. Hercon handed them to Teibar, who placed them, on their thong, on the soft, damp silk beside me.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "What are you, really!"
"I am a businessman," he said.
"What is your business?" I asked, plaintively.
"I am an exporter," he said.
I then felt a sturdy metal anklet closed about my left ankle, where the bells had been. It snapped shut. I had no doubt it locked. I gathered there might be different sorts of such anklets. This one, I had gathered, was a "virgin anklet."
"What do you export?" I asked.
"Women," he said.
I reared up on the table, but, by the hair, with a rattle of the chain on my collar, was pulled back onto it, on my back.
"Lie still," he said.
I saw Hercon lift up, and shake out, a large, folded leather sack. It was heavy, dark, long, and narrow. It had straps, and a lock, at one end.
"I have prepared the mask, and solution," he said to Hercon.
I strained to see the sack. Hercon was now folding it three times, and placing it on the table.
"You will be placed in that, head first, gagged, and bound, hand and foot," said Teibar, "but, even if you were not bound, it would be very difficult for you, because of the tightness and narrowness of the sack, to do more than wiggle a little."
I tried to rise up but a conical, stiff, rubberized mask was thrust over my nose and mouth, and, by means of it, I was pushed back on the table. Taurog held my wrists, pinning me back on the table" s surface. Hercon held my ankles. I struggled. My eyes must have been wild over the mask. Teibar poured some fluid from a small bottle into an opening, or through a porous mesh, at the apex of the mask. He held it firmly over my nose and mouth.
"Steady, steady, little slut," said Teibar, soothingly. "There is no use to struggle. Your struggles will avail you not in the least."
I tried to fight the mask but I could not. I was held. I was held, helplessly. My strength, that of a woman, was nothing to theirs, that of men. I wondered what might be the meaning of that, in a natural world.
"Breathe deeply," said Teibar.
I tried to move my head, but, because of the tightness of the mask, over my nose and mouth, and how he held it on me, pressing it down upon me, I could not. I tried to hold my breath. I felt a drop of liquid, and then a trickle of liquid, run on the bridge of my nose, and then its way down my right cheek.
"Breathe deeply," said Teibar, soothingly.
I fought to hold my breath.
Hercon said something.
"Come now," said Teibar, to me, "you are disappointing Hercon." I looked up at him, wildly.
"Breathe deeply," he said. "You do not wish to disappoint Hercon. Taurog too, was so proud of you. You would not wish to disappoint him, too, would you? Not after you did so well, in the matter of the chain. The time will come, I assure you, when you will be extremely concerned that you not disappoint men in any way, in the least."
I sudden coughed, half choking, in the mask. I gasped in air, plaintively, eagerly, desperately, in those tiny, hot confines. There was a closeness, an oppressiveness within them.
"Good," said Teibar. "Now, breathe slowly, regularly, deeply."
I looked up at him over the tight rubber rim of the mask.
"Surely you understand that resistance is useless," he said.
I sobbed. My eyes were bright with tears. I breathed in, deeply.
"Good," said Teibar. "Good."
It seemed there was a kind of heaviness inside the mask. It was not a strangling sensation and then, with my first gasp for air, an obliteration of consciousness, almost like a blow. This was quite different. It was patient, slow and gentle. I breathed in and out, deeply, slowly, regularly, in misery. Too, of course, it would be relentless and implacable.
"Good," said Teibar.
Hercon released my ankles. I sluggishly, groggily, moved my feet. I felt the anklet with my right foot, and tried weakly to push it from my ankle, but, of course, it was useless. It only hurt the side of my right foot a little, and the inside of my left ankle. it was on me. I could not remove it. It was there, on me, until someone else, not me, might want it off. I was "ankleted," whatever that meant.
"Breathe deeply," said Teibar. "Good. Good."
Taurog released my wrists. He put my hands at my sides. I could not lift them. "Deeply, deeply," said Teibar, soothingly.
I felt a key thrust into the lock on the collar I wore. It was then removed from me. I was dimly conscious of Taurog coiling the chain and replacing it in the attachA© case.
"Struggle now, if you wish," said Teibar, "slut."
But I could scarcely move. I could not raise my arms. I could not even bring my hands to the mask, and had I been able to do so, I would have been too weak to push it away. About the peripheries of my vision it seemed dark. It was hot under the tight mask. I felt another drop of liquid within the mask.
"You are ours now, "modern woman,"" said Teibar.
But I scarcely heard him, or understood him. I supposed, in some sense, I was a "modern woman." I remembered, vaguely, that Teibar had said, earlier, that that could be taken away from me. I did not doubt it. Then I lost consciousness.
4 The Whip
I screamed suddenly under it awakening under it startled not believing it not expecting it the suddenness it was like lightning the cracking sound like the sky breaking the snap like fire my body wrenching I pulling upwards the chain on my neck I fell to my side I pulled at the chain then the snap again no no please no so sharp so loud the fire the pain I screamed I was naked the chain cut my neck "Kneel," he snarled, "head to the floor," I sobbing obeyed. "So," said he, "the modern woman under the whip."
I trembled, kneeling, my head down, the palms of my hands on the floor. "Now, slut," said he, "your power is gone, all of it, that mistakenly given to you by foolish men."
I moaned, bent over, small before him, in a position of obeisance to his manhood, in pain.
"Look up," he said. "Kneel, kneel straightly. Put your hands on your thighs. Head up. Split your knees. More widely, slut!"
I obeyed.
I was then kneeling before him, straightly, my head up, my hands on my thighs, my knees widely spread, the chain from my collar dangling down before me, between my breasts, I could feel it on my body, and going back, between my knees, to a ring. I was terrified. I thought I must be mad. My body was in pain. There seemed something different here. The air was different, a thousand times, it seemed, cleaner and fresher. I had never known such air existed to be breathed. It made me feel somehow charged and alive. The whip seemed still, hot and terrible, to burn on my body. And something else was different, too, something subtle, something I supposed I might quickly become accustomed to, but that now frightened me, terribly, in its implications. Literally the world had a different feel. Its gravity preposterously enough, seemed less than that with which I was familiar. I dismissed this from my mind as some sort of confusion, or illusion. But I knew that I was in pain, sharp, miserable pain, fiery, burning pain, put on me by a man, and that that was real. Too, I knew I knelt before a man. That, too, was real. I was an educated, civilized woman, a modern woman, I supposed, in some sense, but I found myself kneeling before a man! Too, this startling me, this strangely affecting me, it seemed that this was somehow appropriate for me, that it was rightful for me, that it was where I belonged. I felt incredibly alive, and rightful there. Too, he had whipped me awake. What did that mean? What must be my nature here, then, I wondered, or my condition or status, in this place, that I could be so awakened? Though I was an educated, refined, civilized woman, a contemporary woman, a modern woman, I supposed, in some sense, I had been awakened by a whip! I had felt the lash!