He frowned.
"Forgive me, Master," I said.
To be sure, I already wore the most marvelous and joyous bonds of all, those of my womanhood, identical with myself, those of my slavery, natural and legal, and those of my love.
When I saw his eyes upon me I moved my knees a tiny bit further apart. I was a subtle thing. He was not surprised, really, to notice it, or much notice it, at least on a conscious level.
"You are a sly slave," he said.
"Forgive me, Master," I said. I considerably narrowed the gap between my knees. "No," he said. "Open your knees even more widely than they were before." "Yes, Master," I said. Now, of course, I was merely a slave, obeying the orders of her master. How far away then seemed Earth, and the library.
"May I speak, Master?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Fulvius," I said, "who was one of the brigands, did not care, it seems, to leave an enemy behind him."
My master nodded.
"I do not care to do so either," he said.
"But you released Sempronius and Callisthenes," I said. "You even showed them hospitality. You even put Tela and myself to their pleasure."
"They are not enemies," he said.
"I see," I said.
"One must beware of enemies," he said, "and the nobler they are, the more dangerous they are."
"I am surprised that you have kept this camp as long as you have," I said. "I gather this was in deference to Mirus, who was recovering his strength."
"Perhaps," he said.
"But you did not leave with him this afternoon," I said.
"No," he said.
"Perhaps you intend to leave the camp in the morning?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he said.
I looked at my master. He had never used me. On Earth, and in the first house of my bondage, my virginity, it seemed, had protected me. Such was supposed to improve my price on the slave block, at least for certain buyers. Certainly it must have appealed to Hendow, for he had made good money on me, in the selling of chances, raffling it off. Then I had been lost to him for a long time. Then, in the meadow, he had found me. I had come again into his power. He had put sword claim upon me. I was his, his slave! But he had still not used me. He had put me to the pleasure of Sempronius. Later, by another simple exercise of the rights of his mastery, I must serve Mirus. Yet he had sought me for months. Surely that had not been done merely to put me to the purposes of others. I looked at him. Surely he must desire me. He had said as much. I shuddered. I was afraid, a little but terribly excited, to be the object of his desire, Gorean desire. It was so powerful, so ruthless, so absolutely uncompromising. Yet, too, I though, he must care for me. Surely he must! Indeed, he must care very much for me! Perhaps he even loves me, I thought, absurd though that might seem. Was that really so impossible? He must love me, I thought. He must!
"What is wrong with you?" he asked.
"Nothing, Master," I said.
I looked at him. I was sure he loved me!
"Are you sure there is nothing wrong?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said. "Master," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"You own me," I said. "I am your slave."
"Yes?" he said.
"But I am curious to know what my status is, Master," I said. I would try, slyly, to determine his feelings for me.
"Your status?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "What sort of slave am I?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Am I a high slave?" I asked.
"Do you wish to be whipped?" he asked.
?No, Master!" I said.
"Turn about," he said. "Kneel down. Put your head to the ground, clasp your hands together, behind the back of your neck."
"Yes, Master!" I wept. I hastened to obey. This is a common position for slave rape.
"Oh! I cried. Then I shuddered and gasped, and cried out. Then I gasped, again and again. Then he spurned me to the dirt, by the fire, with his foot. I turned about, from my belly, shuddering, to look at him.
"That is your status, the sort of slave you are," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Speak your status, the sort of slave you are," he said.
"I am a low slave!" I said.
"And you are the lowest of the lowest!" he said.
"Yes, Master!" I said. There were tears in my eyes. Obviously I was a full slave to this man. No intention in the least had he of weakening or compromising my bondage. He had not picked me out on Earth to be a half slave. My feelings were very mixed. I was wildly grateful to have been taken, but yet he had given me little time or pleasure. His attentions, and his domination and disciplinary taking, but still I had wept and reveled in it. It was the first such touch, even so arrogant and contemptuous, which my master had granted me. Too, I knew that even though I might be a low slave, as I had little doubt that I was now, and even among the lowest of the low slaves, I was not disheartened, or indeed, even disappointed. First, I knew that women who are kept as low slaves, and even strictly so, are often among the most loved. Many love masters keep their love slaves, for example, as low slaves. I had little doubt that Mirus would keep Tupita as such. She was even braceleted when she left the camp. I knew, too, that even high slaves are occasionally subjected to such imperious uses, which in their way are delicious, just at they might, to their shame, frustration and pleasure, find themselves, occasionally clad in rags and put to disagreeable tasks. Such things remind them that they are slaves, and must obey their masters. Such enforcements, too, tend to be reassuring, and arousing, to a woman. Even if I were not loved, I now had no doubt that I was keenly desired, and that I need not fear that I might not be put to my master" s pleasure and as a slave. The ruthlessness of his use only doubled my desire, that of a slave, to serve and love him. it was clear he had known what he was doing when he had picked me out on Earth.
"You may resume your position," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said, returning to my place, kneeling across the fire from him. I was still shaken and heated from my rape. To some extent I was ashamed and chagrined, for had I not once been a free woman of Earth, but mostly I was very pleased, and grateful, and loving. Too, I was in awe of him. he had wanted me, he had taken me. He would do what he wanted with me. I would be treated as he pleased. There would be no compromising with me. I was his slave. "May I speak?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"How did you know that you might trust Callisthenes and Sempronius?" I asked. "I think I have some skill in reading men," he said.
"Can you read women, as well?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"And what do you read in me?" I asked.
"Straighten your body, and spread your knees more widely," he said. I complied.
"I read that you are an exquisite female slave," he said, "who needs only a strong master to achieve the total perfections of her femininity.
"It is true, Master," I said, reddening, putting down my head. I was sorry I had asked. I was so embarrassed! It was as though he could read my innermost thoughts and needs. Was I truly so open to him? It seemed that my thoughts and needs were as naked to him as now, by his will, was my body.
He then fetched a bit of oil and a sharpening stone from his things and, returning to his place, removed his sword from its scabbard. He then, slowly, patiently, with great care, addressed himself to the blade. Gorean men usually sharpen their own swords. They tend to trust the edge on the weapon to no one but themselves. I regarded the blade with uneasiness, but fascination. I had seen such things at work.
"Be certain that we speak in English," he said, not looking up.
"Very well, Master," I said. We had been speaking in English. I did not understand why he should say that now.
"We must made do, as we can," he said.
"Master?" I asked.
"Had you oil to pour upon the fire, causing it to blaze up suddenly, from the darkness of embers, that might make it difficult to see, for a moment, the light."
"Yes, Master?" I said.
"But it is too early for the fire to have died down as yet," he said. "Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.
I watched the sharpening stone move to the blade, so slowly, so smoothly, so evenly.
"If someone were to approach," he said, "from behind me, you would undoubtedly see him almost immediately."