She lay on her side, her back to me. I tied her hands behind her back.
"You are Janice," I told her, naming her.
"Thank you, Master," she said, putting her head back.
I had used her several times during the night. And several times she had, squirming in the helpless throes of the slave orgasm, screamed and sobbed herself mine.
"I had not known such sensations could exist," she had said.
"They are attainable only by the slave," I told her. 'They are the surrender and submission spasms of the owned woman, the girl who must yield absolutely and totally, holding nothing back, to her master."
"I see, Master," she had said.
"They cannot, in the nature of things, be attained by the free woman," I said, "for she is her own mistress, not the slave of a master."
"Yes, Master," had said the girl.
"Did you like them?" I asked.
"I loved them," she said.
"Do you like being a slave?" I asked.
"I love it," she said. Then she had said, "Please, Master, rape me again," and I had done so.
I checked the knots on her wrists. The girl was secured.
"Thank you for naming me 'Janice'," she said.
"It is a pretty name," I said. "And it will give me a means by which to summon you, when I wish you to fetch and serve."
"Yes, Master," she said. Then she turned about, to lie on her right side, to face me. Her hands were tied behind her back. "I love wearing that name as a slave name," she said.
I looked at her.
"It was the name of that girl on Earth whom I was," she laughed, "that pretentious, foolish little slut, so haughty and smug, so proud of herself, so concerned to deny that anyone so lofty as herself could possibly be a slave. It gives me great pleasure to see that her master now puts her own name on her and forces her to wear it, openly and publicly, as a slave name."
'The name 'Janice'," I said, "apart from such considerations, is a beautiful name for a slave."
"I will try to be worthy of it," she said.
"If you are not," I said, "it may be soon changed."
"Yes, Master," she said. A free woman's name, of course, tends to remain constant. A Gorean free woman does not change her name in the ceremony of the Free Companionship. She remains who she was. In such a ceremony two free individuals have elected to become companions. The Earth woman, as a consequence of certain mating ceremonials, may change her last name. The first and other names, however, tend to remain constant. From the Gorean point of view the wife of Earth occupies, a status which is higher than that of the slave but lower than that of the Free Companion. The case with slaves, of course, is much different from that of free women, either those of Gor or Earth. Their names are simply given to them, as the names of animals. They may be altered or changed at will. Indeed, sometimes a slave is not even given a name. The names a slave wears, of course, are functions of the master's pleasure. They can own a name no more than they can own anything else. It is they who are owned. Some masters have favorite names for girls. Some masters may reward a hard-working girl with a lovely name; others may torment a slave who has been insufficiently pleasing with a cruel or ugly name. Most girls, of course, are given beautiful and exciting slave names, for the masters wish the girl, too, to be beautiful and exciting. She is, after all, a slave. What names count as being beautiful and exciting, of course, is partly a cultural matter. For example, many women of Earth might be astonished to learn that their names, which they may regard as simple or common, names such as 'Jane' or Alice', are found extremely beautiful to the Gorean ear. To be sure, the Gorean commonly alters the pronunciation somewhat, to conform with phonemic variations with which he is more familiar. Further, as I may have mentioned, many Earth-girl names are found extremely provocative to the Gorean male. This probably has to do with emotive connotations resulting from his familiarity with such girls in his markets. Such names may suggest to him, usually correctly, that their lovely bearer is going to be an unusually helpless and delicious slave. I once saw a girl in her chains dragged from the very market block and raped in the aisle for no other reason, apparently, than that the auctioneer had mentioned that her name was Helen. Needless to say, a slave girl, as she changes collars, may change names. Most girls, In passing from the hands of one master into those of another, will have had various names.
"The name 'Janice', on Gor, is a slave name, isn't it?" asked the girl.
"Yes," I said. "Do you object?"
"No, Master," she said. "I find that delicious, and wholly appropriate."
She leaned to me, her hands tied behind her back, and kissed me, gently.
"Let us rest now, Slave Girl," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I awakened, suddenly, startled for the instant. Then I realized what was happening.
It was perhaps an Ahn before dawn.
She lifted her head from my body. It was hard to see her in the light. The fire had burned down. "Please do not whip me, Master," she said, frightened.
"You may continue," I told her.
She again bent her head to my body. She knelt beside me in the darkness. Her hands were tied behind her back. The tether was on her throat.
"Stop for a bit," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said. I felt her cheek against me. Thee she put her head down, on my belly.
"Forgive me for disturbing your rest, Master," she said. "I know that I should not do that. Beat me, if you must."
"I am not angry," I said.
"I could not help myself," she said, "though I feared I might be beaten. You do not know what it is to be a female slave. I am so weak. I was so overcome with desire for my master."
"I am not angry," I told her, "But do not let it happen too often. It is I who will instruct you as to when to serve my pleasure."
"But what of my needs?" she asked.
"Your needs," I said, "will be satisfied if, and when, I please."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"It is perfectly acceptable for you to lie alone in the darkness, miserable, tormented by your needs," I said, "for you are a slave."
"Yes, Master," she said. "But may I not, upon occasion, beg to be used?"
"Of course," I said.
She then, lifting her head, began to lick and kiss softly at my body. I looked up at the stars. I listened to the noises of the jungle night. "How sweet, and strong and beautiful it is," she said.
I said nothing.
"Are you angry with me, Master?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"I love to kiss you," she said. Then she again put her head down on my belly.
"Do not stop, Slave," I said.
Again she lifted her head.
Then I took her by the hair and drew her close to me.
"Master?" she asked.
"Perform," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I then forced her head downward and held her in place, as is common with slaves.
"You are skilled," I told her.
She moaned softly.
"Quite skilled," I said.
She moaned again, a sweet, soft, piteous moan.
"Aiii," I whispered, softly, and, not releasing her, holding her head to me, reared to my feet, half crouching. She was gasping, sobbing. She was half lifted from her knees. I looked down at her. How incredibly beautiful she was in the jungle night, so small, so white and soft, her small hands tied behind her, the tether on her throat. I gasped, and put my head back, taking air into my lungs. Then I lowered her gently to the ground. She looked up at me. "I love you, Master," she whispered. I forced myself to remember that she was only a slave. Then I lay beside her. I wiped her mouth with the back of my forearm. I held her head in my hands and kissed her on the forehead. Then, shuddering, I clutched her. In a few minutes I was calm. In a quarter of an Ahn she felt me move against her thigh. "You are strong, Master," she said. "You are beautiful," I told her.