The girl with the leash drew back her hand, it then no longer shielding the opening on the coin box. "You understand the conditions?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Please, Please, Master," said the kneeling girl, tears in her eyes, "put the coin in my coin box. You will not regret it."
I hesitated. I looked at her.
"I beg to please Master," she said clearly.
"You," I asked, as though disbelievingly, "you beg to please a man?"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Whom?" I asked.
"You, my Master," she said. "I beg to please you, my Master."
"As a slave?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said, "I beg to please you-as a slave."
I dropped the coin into the narrow, metal coin box. I thought the girl would almost faint with relief, and pleasure. Too, I saw another emotion in her eyes, which was harder to fathom.
The girl with the leash bent down to a nearby slave ring. Such things are common in Gorean streets. They are usually mounted in a wall, a foot to a yard above the walk or pavement. This one was mounted about a foot above the street, and was ahead of me and to my right, a bit behind the kneeling girl, and to her left. "There," said the girl, knotting the end of the leash about the ring. Usually, at such rings, slaves are on a short leash or chain, and are fastened to them on their knees. If the slave is braceleted to the ring and the ring is in the neighborhood of a yard high her hands are braceleted before her face, and her belly faces the wall, or behind the back of her head, and her back or side faces the wall; with the lower ring her hands are braceleted before her lower body if she faces the wall or has her side to it, and roughly at the small of her back, if she has her back to the wall. But the girl who had controlled the kneeling girl's leash had left her a good deal of slack. She might lie, fully, on the stones, and be moved about on them, if I chose.
"I shall withdraw," said the girl who had controlled the leash. "But understand clearly," she said, meaningfully, "that when I return her body will be closely examined."
"I understand," I said.
The girl who had controlled the leash then withdrew.
I looked at the girl, kneeling on the stones before me. I crouched down, before her.
"You know that you must use me fully," she said. "My body will be carefully examined, for the signs of your use."
"I know," I said.
She then, demurely, unbelted her tunic, and brushed it back.
"You must have me, and fully," she said. "You have no choice."
"I know," I said.
She dropped her tunic behind her, on the stones. "It is my hope," she said, "that I may please my Master."
I grinned. "Who are you?" I asked.
"Your Linda," she said.
"If I choose to have you by that name," I said.
"Yes," she said. "You may have me by any name you care to fix upon me, or nameless, if it pleases you."
"I know," I said.
"In all this time," she said, "you have never had me."
"No," I said.
"You wanted to, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"And now I am only a leashed slut before you," she said, "one for whom you have paid your tarsk bit."
"Yes," I said.
She leaned forward, and kissed me, softly. "I will endeavor to be worthy of my tarsk bit, my Master," she whispered.
"Have no fear," I told her. "I shall see that you are."
"Master?" she asked, drawing back.
I then put my hands on her arms.
She winced, in pain. She looked at me, disbelievingly. "That is not the grip of a man of Earth," she said, "that of one who treats women with respect." She squirmed.
"You are a slave," I told her.
"It is the grip of a Gorean male," she said, "of one who is the master of a woman."
"Is it?" I asked.
"Yes!" she said. "Release me! I mean, 'Please release me, my Master! "
"No," I told her.
"No?" she asked. "But you are a man of Earth! You must do whatever a woman asks!"
"Why?" I asked.
"I do not know," she cried. "I do not know!"
"Do you wish me to release you?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "Yes!"
"Lying slave," I sneered.
"Please do not punish me, Master," she whimpered.
"The brutes of Gor have their way with you, as it pleases them," I said, "and you serve them well. Do you think the men of Earth should be content with less?"
"No, Master," she whimpered.
"If the men of Earth choose to surrender the birthright of their dominance, to exchange it for the garbage of a political perversion; if they should choose to deny their genes; if they should choose to subvert and violate the order of nature; if they should choose self-castration to manhood, that is, I suppose, their business."
"I do not know, Master," she said.
"Provided, of course, that they are willing to accept such penalties as anxiety, guilt, misery, frustration, sickness and shortened life spans."
"I do not know, Master," she said.
"A subverted nature cannot be expected not to retaliate," I said.
"No, Master," she said.
"Does a man have a right to be a man?" I asked.
"I suppose so," she said. "I do not know."
"And are there not hierarchies among rights, and some which take priority over others?"
"Be kind to me, Master," she begged.
"And is not the right of a man to be a man the highest right of such a sort that man possesses?"
"Yes," she said.
"What right takes precedence over that?" I asked.
"None, Master," she said.
"Has man," I asked, "the right to bring about his own downfall, to destroy himself?"
"He has the capacity, Master," she whispered, "but I do not think he has that right."
"He does not have that right," I told her, "for it conflicts with the higher right."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Rather," said I, "he has, beyond rights, duties; and high among his duties is his duty to be true to himself, his duty to be a man."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"The denial of his manhood, then, by a man, is not only irrational, but morally pernicious. Men have not only a right to preserve their manhood, but a duty to do so."
"Perhaps there is no such thing as manhood," she whispered, "or womanhood."
"Tell that," I said, "to strong men and yielding women, and history."
"Perhaps there are no such things as duties, and rights," she said, "perhaps there are only the words, used as the instruments of manipulative rhetorics, devices of conditioning, cheaper and more subtle than guns and whips."
"That is an interesting and profound possibility," I said, "but then there would still remain needs and powers, forces and desires, and the facts of the world, that certain courses of action lead to certain results, and that other courses of action lead to other results. And in such a world who will argue with the larl as to whether or not it should feed, or with a man as to whether or not he should be a man? In such a world the larl hunts, and the man is a man."
"Gor, I fear," she said, "is such a world."
"It is," I told her, "Slave Girl."
"I'm frightened," she said.
"As well you might be, rightless slave," I told her.
"Rightless slave?" she asked.
"Of course," I told her, "you are a rightless Gorean slave girl, leashed and ready for having."
"Is that all I am?" she asked.
"Yes," I told her.
"To you?" she asked.
"Yes," I told her.
She shuddered.
"What is wrong?" I asked.
"I dare not speak," she whispered.
"Speak," I said.
"I am aroused," she said.
I continued to hold her right arm with my left hand, and placed my right hand on her body. She squirmed. "It is true," I told her.