I did so. I was then helpless, bound by his will.
He went to the door and opened it A slave was there. She was. naked., her hands were behind her back. About her neck, tied, was a key, doubtless to her bracelets, and a whip. There' were' two guards at the portal, but they were those who had been guarding it. The girl had apparently come alone through the hails to the portal, obediently, as I had. Ligurious indicated that she should enter. She did, and he closed, and locked, the door behind her.
He freed her of the bracelets and tossed them, and the key, to the side. He then removed the whip from about her neck. He regarded her. Their eyes met.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Kneel, Slave," said Ligurious, defining the relationship between them. "Yes, Master," she said.
"Is that the fashion in which I have my women kneel before me?" he asked. "Forgive me, Master," she said, and put her head down to the tiles before him, the palms of her hands flat on the floor.
"Lift your head," he said. She did so.
"Kiss the whip," he said. "Again, lingeringly!"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Now lick and kiss it," he said. "Yes, Master," she whispered.
He then hurled the whip from him. It slid back across the tiles, until it stopped, at the door.
"Fetch," he said.
The girl, on her hands and knees, went to the whip. She put down her head at the heavy, locked door and picked up the whip, delicately, in her teeth. She then, the whip in her teeth, turned from the door and, head down, on her hands and knees, returned to the center of the room.
"Kneel," he said, "in the position of the pleasure slave." She knelt, then, back on her heels, her knees spread widely, her back straight, her shoulders back, her belly sucked in, her head up, her hands on her thighs. Between her teeth was the staff of the whip.
"Whip," said Ligurious.
She gave him the whip, extending her head towards him, opening her mouth, letting him take it from between, her teeth. She then, unbidden, resumed the erect, graceful, beautiful position of the Gorean pleasure slave.
He shook out the blades of the whip and dangled them before her eyes.
She swallowed, hard.
"Face that direction," said Ligurious, pointing.
She rotated her body about a hundred degrees to her left.
"On your belly," he said.
She went to her belly, her hands at the sides of her head. he changed his position a little. He was now a bit behind her, and to her left. He was right-handed.
She began to tremble.
He looked down at her.
I, kneeling, tightened the grasp on my ankles. I was sweating.
I looked at the branded female on the tiles.
Sheila, who had once been the Tatrix of Corcyrus, now a slave girl, lay at the feet of Ligurious, who had once been her first minister, positioned.
How she had used him, and tortured him! How cleverly she had manipulated him, how insidiously and cunningly she had exploited him!
He let the blades of the whip, idly, brush her back. She whimpered. I recalled her words, two evenings ago, in the banquet hall, how she had said that she had made him dance like a puppet to her will, how she had deprived him of his leadership and manhood.
He drew the blades back, away from her body. "What are you?" he asked. "A slave, Master," she said.
"And what else?" he asked.
"Naught else, Master," she said.
I wondered if she retained power over him yet. I saw the whip swing back now, and to the side.
He held it with both hands. On Earth a woman may reduce, diminish and destroy a man with impunity. This, however, was not Earth; it was Gor. I saw the whip pause at the height of its arc.
I wondered if she retained power over him yet. Then I saw his eyes. In them I saw that the spell which she had exercised over him was broken.
I cried out and averted my eyes, swiftly, as the whip fell. The beating lasted only a few moments.
Then I looked back. Sheila was on her side, her body flaming with burning stripes; she was gasping and sobbing; she looked wildly up at Ligurious, a Gorean master. Then she looked away from him, not daring to meet his eyes. She, a female, lay now at the feet of a male, he totally dominant over her. She was now in her place in nature.
"Do you wish to be whipped further?" he asked.
"No, Master!" she sobbed.
"You will serve well, and yield perfectly," he said.
"Yes, Master!" she said, fervently Ligurious turned to face me. "You may break position," he said.
Swiftly I released my ankles and slipped from the surface of the couch, to stand beside it.
"Bring furs from the surface of the couch, and spread them here, on the tiles," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I saw that, in his use of her, he would not permit Sheila the dignity of the couch.
"Kiss the furs," said he to her, "and crawl upon them." She did so. "On your back," said he to her, "split your legs, part your lips, lift your arms to me."
The slave complied. He forced her to hold the position for a few moments and then he crouched down near her and took her head in his hands, pulling her up to a seated position, and crushed her lips beneath his. She murmured and moaned, and then, when he thrust her back, I saw there was blood at her mouth. She whimpered, frightened. I think he had waited years for that kiss.
Then, patiently, and with uncompromising authority, he addressed himself to her beauty. In moments, choiceless, she was a sobbing, aroused, begging slave. "You amuse me," he said.
"Please, Master," she begged. "Please!"
But he continued to tease and torment her, toying with her emotions and passions She writhed in his arms, pleading, helpless and needful, performing and commanded. She might have been a paga slave or a girl rented on a mat in the back streets of Argentum.
"You juice well," he informed her.
"Thank you, Master," she sobbed. "Please, Master! Please!"
I lay on my side, at the edge of the furs, near them. I watched with fascination, learning what a man could do to one who was how no more than one of my sisters in bondage.
Then, after a time, at last, he permitted her her slave's yielding, and in it she cried out her slavery, and her submission to men, and, specifically, to he who was her master of the evening.
Then she lay in his arms, softly and tenderly, an over-whelmed, submitted slave. I thought the vengeance he had taken on her had been exquisite. In his arms she had found her bondage well confirmed upon her.
Ligurious, Sheila in his arms, looked over at me. I then lay, my belly sucked in, my legs slightly flexed, my toes pointed, as seductively as possible before him. I, too, was a slave, and at his disposal this evening.
He rolled to his back, looking up at the ceiling.
"I did not know that you were such a man," she whispered.
"Nor I," he smiled, "that you were such a woman."
"You were harsh with me, Master," she smiled.
"Do you object?" he asked.
"No," she said.
I then crawled to him, and kissed him gently on the thigh. I did not wish to be forgotten.
"A fortunate man am I," said Ligurious, "to be served by two Tatrixes. "Two slaves, Master," she smiled.
Twice more that night did he make use of her, and, at various times, he had one or another of us, and sometimes both, please and serve him. Toward morning, when she slept, he made use of me again, and I yielded to him once more, gasping softly, as a slave to the master.
Then later we lay together, quietly. It felt good to lie close to such a strong man, a master.
"Sheila will make Hassan a fine slave," he said.
"He will see to it," I smiled.
"She loves him," he said.
"With the profundity of the slave," I acknowledged.
"He loves her, too, I think," he said.
"I think so, too, Master," I said. "Do you love her?"
"No," he said. "That infatuation was an illness. I am cured now. I retain, however, of course, a fondness for her as might anyone for a pleasing slave." "Then, too," I said, "it is my hope that you have some fondness for me." "Yes," he said, "I am also fond of you."