I looked at her.
"You may have your pick!" she said.
"I know," I said.
She looked up at me, trembling.
"Take your clothes off, completely," I told her. "Get in bed."
"No," she whispered. "No!"
"Lie on the bed, on your stomach," I told her.
"No!" she said.
"Must you be beaten?" I asked.
"No," she said, frightened. "No." She stepped from her robes and slippers and went to the bed. She lay down upon it, on her stomach. I sat down beside her on the bed. "You may have your pick," she moaned. I pulled her wrists behind her: "The brigands are about," she wept. I snapped her wrists in the slave bracelets. "Oh," she said, for they were tight. I held her by the arms, from the back. "But you may have your pick!" she wept.
"I know," I told her. I then flung her on her back, on the broad bed. She looked up at me, frightened. "I pick you," I told her.
She who had been my Mistress gasped in my arms, and then she, her head back, breathed deeply. Her small wrists pulled futilely at the slave bracelets and then her struggles subsided.
"Do you know what you have done?" she asked.
"Yes," I told her. "Shhh!" I said to her, suddenly, for I heard men speaking, out-of-doors, near the window. Her body tensed in my arms, frightened.
"Have you caught the stable sluts?" a man was asking.
"One is still at large," he was answered.
"What of the house slaves?" asked the first voice.
"They wear our chains," he was answered.
"Tie them to the saddle rings," said the first voice. "We must soon take flight."
"Where is Orgus?" asked a man.
"He went after the Mistress of the house," said another voice.
"Where is he?" asked the first voice.
"Doubtless he is richly enjoying her," said a voice. I smiled. There was laughter.
"Are you the sort of woman who can be richly enjoyed?" I asked the helpless, braceleted wench in my arms.
"I am not the sort of woman who can be enjoyed," she hissed. "I am a free woman! I am the Lady Florence of Vonda! Oh! Oh!"
I laughed softly to myself. How little she understood the potentialities of her beauty.
"Oh, oh," she moaned.
"You have underestimated yourself, lovely Lady," I assured her.
She glared up at me.
"To be sure," I said, "you are a far cry from a slave."
"Sleen," she said, but then closed her eyes and yielded to the pleasures which I saw fit, she at my mercy, to inflict upon her. "Oh," she wept. "Oh."
"But not too far a cry," I added.
She did not even respond to me, but only cried out softly, moaning. The fullness of a woman's orgasms, of course, in the totality of their physiological and psychological dimensions can be attained only by the female slave, the woman who is fully owned and finds herself at the complete mercy of a dominating and powerful master. Nonetheless I found the responsiveness of the Lady Florence, even though it was still well within the ranges attainable by the free woman, to be quite impressive. I was proud of my former Mistress. I had little doubt but that if she were made a slave she could learn well the arts of pleasing a master.
"By the way," I asked, "where is that new slave whom you sent to please me in the tunnel?"
She looked up at me, frightened. "I sold her!" she said, quickly.
"She was a tasty little pudding," I said.
"A tasty little pudding!" cried the Lady Florence, angrily.
"Yes, rather like yourself," I said.
She looked at me in fury.
"Relax," I said. "For the time be content to be a tasty little pudding."
"Oh!" she said, closing her eyes. "Ah," she said. "Ah!"
"That is it," I said.
"You beast," she said, softly.
I kissed her.
"You shame me in my own bed," she whispered. "Oh, no!" she said. "Do not make me yield again!"
"Orgus! Orgus!" we heard cry.
"Do not make me yield again!" she begged.
"Yield!" I said.
She cried out, yielding, helpless.
"Hear her scream," laughed a man outside.
"Orgus is still busy with her," laughed another man.
"You bold sleen," wept the girl. "Surely we shall both be discovered!"
"Did you catch the other stable slut?" asked one of the men outside.
"Yes," said a voice. "She says her name is `Tuka'. She is a hot one. I beat her well for being troublesome. She is now well chained at my stirrup."
"Good," said the first voice.
"Her name is now whatever we please to call her," said another man.
"Of course," said another.
"Fetch Orgus," said the first voice. "We wish to take flight."
I smiled. The girl looked at me, frightened. Then she gritted her teeth, gasping. We half reared from the surface of the bed. Then we were still. She was sobbing. Then I thrust her back to the covers. The marks of my hands on her arms were deep. I then left the bed. I went to the side of the room and picked up a bench.
The girl had then struggled to her knees on the bed. Her hair was about her face and body. Her body was covered with sweat. Her hands were braceleted behind the small of her back. "What you did to me!" she cried.
"Would you rather have spent the time wandering about the garden?" I asked.
She looked at me with anger.
"Kneel down beside the bed," I said, "facing it, your head down."
"I am a free woman!" she screamed. "You do not command me!"
"Do you want your neck broken?" I asked.
Swiftly she knelt beside the bed, facing it, head down.
"Ah," said the fellow, coming through the door, "there she is, stripped and braceleted." He looked about. "Orgus!" he cried. "What has happened?"
"Greetings," I said.
He spun about. His sword was but half from its sheath when the bench piled into his gut. Then I lifted the bench and broke it across his back.
"May I move, Jason?" asked the girl, not looking about.
"Yes," I said.
She leaped to her feet and turned about.
I was kneeling near Orgus. I tore away his weapons and accouterments. I slipped his tunic from his body and drew it on. I also put on his sandals.
"You are strong, Jason," said the Lady Florence, looking at the broken bench, "very strong."
"When these fellows revive," I said, "I do not think it would be wise for us to be in their vicinity." I drew on the weapons and accouterments of Orgus. I did this primarily that they might contribute to my makeshift disguise. I did not know the uses of Gorean steel. I had little doubt but what one who was the master of such skills could make short work of me.
"When Orgus and Andar return," said a voice outside, "burn the house."
"Have you emptied it of all valuables and slaves?" asked a voice.
"Of all but the Mistress," said another voice, "she whom Orgus has apparently been introducing to her new duties and condition."
There was laughter.
The girl looked at me, frightened.
I drew on the helmet of Orgus.
"What are we to do?" begged the girl.
"Run to me, and turn your back," I said.
"How fierce you look, in the helmet," she said, shrinking back.
"Must I repeat a command?" I asked.
She ran to me, and turned her back. "No Jason," she said.
I freed her of the bracelets and threw the key and bracelets to the tiles.
"Head in leading position," I said.
"I am the Lady Florence!" she said.
I took her head by the hair and held it at my hip. "Oh," she sobbed. It was thus that I had seen one of the brigands leading Bonnie into her new slavery, one in which she would serve not a woman, but men.
"Oh," said the girl, in pain. "Please, you're hurting me. What are you going to do?"
"Be silent," I said. "I have a plan."