"The slut is excellent," said another.
Then I realized suddenly that I was actually aroused. The interior of my thighs were hot. My belly, hot and burning, seemed to beg to be touched. I do not know, really, whether I had done this to myself in the dance, which is possible, or if my arousal had merely came upon me in the course of the dance, but I was aroused. I was a helpless, aroused slave! This now was no role. It was what I was.
I returned to the back of the dancing floor, piteously, that I might sway before my master, he in the back, by the beaded curtain, gross, loathsome Hendow. He, I felt, of all those in the tavern, would understand what was now within me. I felt I could keep no secrets from him. it seemed he had a way of looking through me, and seeing whatever was within me, no matter how I might try to hide it. But I did not want to hide this from him. Rather I wanted his understanding. I wanted him to offer me comfort, or perhaps even rescue me from the floor. In my fears it was natural that I should seek him out, gross and loathsome though he might be. He was the one who owned me. He was my master.
Hendow nodded to me, almost imperceptibly. Then, pointing to me, and lifting his finger twice, he indicated I should turn away, and return to my dance, in the center of the floor, facing the crowd.
I knew the music was approaching its climax, and the dance must be concluded. I then, in the coda of my performance, danced helplessness and beauty, and submission, surrendering myself as I, in my collar, must, into the hands and mercies of masters.
As the music concluded I performed floor movements, and the eyes of the men blazed, and fists pounded on the tables, and then the music was done and I lay before them on my back, my breasts rising and fallling as I fought for breath, my body sheened with sweat, my hands beside me, palms up, my knees lifted slightly, my right knee highest, a slave before masters. I heard the roars of triumph, shouts of pleasure. I was frightened. The men were on their feet. There was a thunder of applause, the striking of the shoulders in the Gorean fashion, and, too, the crashing of goblets on the tables. I crept to my knees in the bedlam. I became aware of Hendow standing near me now, and Mirus was to one side. "Back," called Hendow. "Back!" I felt small among the legs of the men. Mirus and Hendow, gently, were forcing men back, away from the floor. Then I was kneeling there, small, between them.
Mirus looked down upon me. Swiftly I pressed my lips fervently, placatingly, to his sandals. "Look up," said he. I looked up, frightened. Would I be punished for altering the dance?
"I did not think you could do better," he said. "I was wrong."
I regarded him, frightened. Would he then be angry? Would I be cuffed, or kicked?
"You did well," he said. "I am pleased."
I almost fainted with relief, and, gratefully, pressed my lips to his sandals. But then a girl is seldom punished for improving her service. Indeed, as I would later learn, girls are encouraged to be rich and creative in such matters. I looked up from my knees at my master. "Is your belly still hot?" he asked. I looked down, blushing. He had known, of course. "Not now, Master," I said. "Well," he said, "you had better start heating it up again."
I turned crimson, my head down, kneeling there, scarcely able to believe what I had heard. To be sure, he was the proprietor of the tavern, and I was his. I felt my head pulled up by the hair, a double handful of it grasped in Hendow" s fist. I was almost pulled up, from my knees. "Did you like her?" he called to the crowd. Most of the men were still standing. There were no women in that crowd other than slaves. Women are on the whole not permitted in paga taverns, unless, of course, they wear collars.
"Yes! Yes!" cried several of the men.
"She will be a dancer in my tavern," said Hendow.
This intelligence was greeted with raucous enthusiasm, shouts, and the pounding of shoulders.
I shuddered.
"Come, see her often!" invited Hendow.
"Have no fear," called a fellow. There was laughter.
"But she is only one of several lovely dancers," said Hendow, "any one of whom is her superior or equal!"
I doubted that that was true.
"All of whom have been chosen to please your senses!"
I would grant the beast, my master, that.
"Come often to the tavern of Hendow," said Hendow, "for the finest paga in Brundisium, and the most beautiful paga slaves, wenches chosen for their luscious beauty and steaming bellies!"
I trembled. Not all paga slaves are tavern dancers, but all tavern dancers are paga slaves.
There was another round of cheering.
"The drawing!" called a man. "Let us have the drawing!"
Hendow nodded to Mirus, and Mirus summoned Aynur to the center of the floor, and near the front, with her copper bowl, laden with the halves of broken ostraka. "Return to your seats!" called Hendow.
As the men sought their places, Tupita, Sita and Ina came forward. Ina brought with her not only the flat, shallow box but a large towel as well. "Sit as you were before," ordered Tupita. I did so, leaning forward, my hands on the floor, my knees up, my right leg advanced. Sita removed the belt from me, with its double loop. Tupita began to take the anklets and bracelets from me, putting them in the box. "Treasure your silly virginity," said Tupita, "for you will not have it long." "Red-silk slut!" I said to her, angrily, adding, "Mistress." "By tomorrow," said Tupita, " you, too, will be only a red-silk slut." "You were beautiful tonight," said Ina.
"Thank you," I said, "Mistress."
With a jangle and shimmering of metal pieces the cord belt, in its length, was dropped by Sita into the box.
Aynur shook the bowl of ostraka. She stirred the contents with her two hands. Delving deeply into the bowl she lifted up handfuls of ostraka again and again, each time letting them fall like showers back into the bowl.
Mirus and Hendow observed her doing this.
The last bracelet was deposited in the box. Sita was lifting the strands of slave beads from my neck, placing them, too, in the box.
"That is enough," said Hendow.
"Yes, Master," said Aynur, desisting mixing ostraka.
I trembled, for the moment of the drawing drew near. Sita lifted the last strand of slave beads from about my neck and put it in the box. Ina, then, began to dry my body, from the sweat of the dance.
I felt very naked then, without even the beads to cover me. "Will I not be given the white sheet again," I asked Ina.
"No," she said, "the time of the white sheet for you is over."
"Let me keep a strand of beads," I begged.
"No," said Ina. "Your use master, in handling you, might break them." "Oh," I said, frightened.
"Too," she said, "we would not want anything to stand between you and your use master when he presses you in his arms."
"No," I whispered, frightened.
"Now you are as nude as any slut," said Tupita, jerking down on the ribbon on my collar, ascertaining that its fixture there was suitably snug.
I saw Mirus, near the front of the floor, draw a red ribbon from his wallet. It was identical in size and shape to the white ribbon I wore on my collar. My use master, I gathered, when he was finished with me, would change the ribbons. This would be significatory of the alteration of my status, informing anyone who might look upon it that I had not been "opened." He also had in one hand the attestation paper. There was a place at the bottom of the paper where a streak of blood, mine, might be smeared.
"Who shall choose the lucky ostrakon?" called Hendow.
"The slave!" cried a man.
"The slave!" "The slave!" cried others.
"Very well!" said Hendow.
I moaned.
Hendow approached me.
"Please, Master," I begged him.
But I saw him draw forth from his belt a half hood. This covers the head to the upper lip.
It was put over my head and drawn back, tightly, and buckled shut. I then heard a lock snapped through rings. It was locked on me, in place. I could not see under the device, at all. In this respect it differed from imperfect blindfolds and resembled the full slave hood. Similarly, although it is usually regarded as inferior to the full slave hood in its security, it tends to be more secure than many blindfolds, particularly makeshift ones, seized up from materials at hand. For example, unlike many blindfolds, it, and in this respect it is similar to the full slave hood, is not likely to become dislodged or loose, even if the girl is handled with great roughness. It does, however, of course, possess certain of the rich and attractive advantages of the blindfold, such as allowing its fair captive to speak, to use her tongue, to lick, to kiss, and so on. "Please, Master," I begged. "Do not make me choose!"