"No," he said.
"Would you like to rest now?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. His hand was in my hair.
"Would you like me to relax you?" I asked.
"Very well," he said.
I crawled to my knees.
In a few moments, he said, "Is that your idea, as how to relax a man?" I laughed, and continued my work, lovingly.
"Obviously you have been trained," he said.
"I am not one of those women who thinks her part in making love is finished when she lies, down," I said.
"That is clear," he said. The slave, of course, is not permitted the ignorance, inertness and mediocrity of the free woman. She must serve marvelously and totally. Nothing less is permitted her.
"I am a woman of many talents," I assured him.
"Doubtless," he said, half moaning.
"I have attended school," I informed him. "And I am a skilled feast slave. I am also skilled at weaving on a mill loom."
"Marvelous," he gasped.
"Shall I stop now?" I asked.
"Continue," he said.
"But I thought you wished to rest?" I said.
He looked at me, menacingly.
"I shall continue," I said. "I would certainly not wish for a command to have to be repeated. That would be a reflection on my discipline. Too, I have no wish to be beaten twice in one day."
"I wonder who is the master and who is the slave," he said.
"You are the master, and I am the slave," I said. "I am clear on that." "Would you care to mount me?" he asked.
Eagerly I did so.
"Are you now Mistress?" he asked.
"Whatever Master wishes," I laughed. I sensed, suddenly, what might be the sensations of power and pleasure a woman might experience, putting a male to her use, before she was restored to the order of nature, and her servitude. "Would you truly permit me this?" I asked.
"Of course," he said, "but, later, we will do it somewhat differently." "Yes, Master," I said, puzzled.
Then, to my amazement and delight, grinding and tensing, I watching him closely, I transformed him into a squirming slave beneath me, and then, when it pleased me, took his yielding from him.
Later in the afternoon, when we had rested, and he had had food brought in, and we had eaten, he put me again in such a place, but this time I must face his feet and my hands were held behind me. In such a way, sometimes, a captured free woman, stripped, is placed backwards on a kaijia, her hands bound behind her. This is usually done only when she is being led to slavery. In such a way, then, he used me. My slavery was again well impressed upon me. This type of position, it might be mentioned, is also used by Gorean masters with the woman facing forward, when he can see her face, but with her hands tied, say, before her or behind her, or at her collar, bound either with actual thongs or, most cruelly, "by his will," that form of "tie" in which a woman must keep her hands in a given position, for example, holding them as if bound, or, say, keeping them on her hips or clasped behind the back of her neck. If she breaks such a position, of course, she is subject. to terrible discipline. She must then, as he lies slothful' and' recumbent beneath her, at his ease, observing her, perhaps amused, writhe upon command and thus serve, and eventually cap, his volcano. Later he taught me this sort of thing first-hand. He used the' collar tie and, mercifully with real thongs' when he was finished I had not only learned again that I Was a slave but that this general sort of position, even with the female facing forward, has no intrinsic connection with female dominance. He had let me experience it in that fashion to see what it was like. He had then returned me to total bondage.
"Master," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"I have been doing a great deal of thinking," I said.
"Is that what you have been doing?" he asked.
"I mean, in the last few Ehn," I said.
"Yes?" he said.
"I have learned my collar," I said.
"Good," he said.
"You have taught it to me well," I said.
He shrugged. The Goreans have a theory that any man can teach a woman her collar, and perfectly.
"But was it necessary," I asked, "that you used me as you did earlier, after you had whipped me?"
"How was that?" he asked.
"Master!" I protested. Then I saw that he wished to make me speak. "when you made me kneel, with my head down," I said, embarrassed.
"No," he said. "It was not necessary."
"Then why did you do it?" I asked.
"It amused me," he said.
"Surely there was more to it than, that," I said.
"Yes," he said, "it is a useful way to show a woman, one who may be proud, or not clear on the matter, that she is a slave."
"I see," I said. "I find it difficult to forget the experience." "Oh?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Doubtless you were appropriately degraded and shamed," he said.
"No," I said. "To be sure," I said, "it was instructive, but, as I recall it now, I found it very loving and exciting."
"You liked it?" he asked.
"Doubtless it brought my slavery home to me," I said, carefully.
"I would think so," he said. "It would doubtless be difficult to continue to think of oneself as a free woman after having been used in that fashion." "I liked it," I said, suddenly.
"That is interesting," he said. The beast! He knew I had almost screamed with submission and pleasure!
"Are slaves often used in such a fashion?" I asked, as though unconcerned. "Sometimes," he said.
"Might I ever again be put under such a discipline?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he said. I looked at him.
"Perhaps if you beg prettily enough," he said.
"I will," I smiled. "I will!"
"Do you recall the position?" he asked. "Yes," I said.
"Speak," he said.
"The girl kneels, with her head down, her hands clasped behind her neck," I said.
"You recall the position perfectly," he admitted.
"Yes," I said.
"Assume it," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, joyfully.
"Thank you, Master," I said, softly; lying in his arms, thanking him for his touch. It is now evening. Again he had gone to the door and summoned a slave. Again we had had food brought in and had, again, eaten.
"Ohhhh," I said softly. "Thank you. Thank you, Master. You are my master. You are my Master! Thank you. Thank you, my master."
Then, later, he held me closely.
"Master," I said.
"Yes?" he said.
"I have often wondered what was the meaning of a golden cage, and why I, when thought a Tatrix, was placed in one."
"The gold," said he, "is a precious metal, is thought perhaps fitting for a free woman, in particular for one of high station, and certainly for a Tatrix. That it is a cage, on the other hand, signifies that she is taken to be, in actuality, no better than a slave, and only fit to be a slave. To place her in such a cage is then to make a clear statement as to her true and rightful nature."
"I see," I said. "And doubtless the goldensack is of similar import." "Yes," He said.
"Yet Hassan enslaved Sheila before placing her in such a sack."
"True," he said, "and that she as a mere slave was yet placed in such a sack must have induced exquisite emotions m her, emotions of fear, of outrage and humiliation."
"Doubtless," I said.
"It was a. joke on the part of Hassan," he said, "an exquisite one." "Doubtless," I said.
"But doubtless, too," he said, "it served a useful purpose in her on-going training."
"Doubtless," I said.
"But doubtless, too," he laughed, "it seemed an appropriate modality, did it not, in which to transport a former Tatrix to Argentum?"