"It is not just such things," she said. "Even more, it is my entire condition!"
"Interesting," I said.
"I have become hot, submissive, sexual and obedient," she said.
"I see," I said.
"I am a slave and needful," she said.
"I see," I said.
"You have done this to me!" she said.
"I?" I asked.
"You, and others," she said. "Men, masters."
"These things are within you," I said. "They are born in you. Surely you have sensed them in yourself, or hints of them, even when you were a free woman."
"Then I have always been a slave," she said.
"Yes," I said. "It was only that you were waiting for a master, or masters." She was silent.
"Too," I said, "even though these things are within you, they did not have their beginning with you. They are very ancient things. They go back at least to the cave and the stone knife."
"Master?" she asked.
"Never mind," I said.
"As master wishes," she said.
How far we were from the cave and the stone knife, I thought, and yet. Again, in a way, how close! Could one not see in the blade of steel, so much keener and more dangerous, the knife of stone? Could one not recollect in the spacious courts of the palace the dim recesses of limestone caves? And who moves barefoot and graceful upon the tiles of the palace? Is it the hunter's mate, clad in her skins, kept, and cuffed and obedient, cowering lovingly at her master's feet, his in the sense of rain and stones? No, it is the curvaceous, perfumed, silked, collared slave, owned in law, hurrying to do her master's bidding.
"You may now again move," I said.
"Oh, yes, Master!" she said, gratefully.
But in a short while I counseled her once again to desist, which she did, reluctantly.
"Surely you did not learn to move and moan like that as a free women," I said. "No, Master," she said.
"Speak," I said.
"I am excited, and cannot help myself," she said. "It is muchly reflexive, involuntary."
"I see," I said.
"I beg my master's pardon," she said. "The sensations, the feelings, are incredible! Then my movements become such that I cannot even control them. It is not like it is I who move, but rather than it is I who am moved. It is like hands jerking me about. I am wild inside and helpless and my body cries out silently and moves as it wishes! Sometimes it is almost as though I were being beaten, or struck!"
"They are simple slave reflexes," I said. "I effect nothing critical."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"Have you even seen slave dance?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said. "But I have heard of it."
"You have no idea, then," I said, "of its incredible sensuousness and beauty, and of how a woman appears in it, how exciting, desirable and owned, and of how men, seeing it, can cry out with need?"
"Only what I have heard," she said.
"As you were in the house of Appanius, who is a rich man," I said, "it is surprising that you never observed such dancers."
She was silent.
"Surely he could have afforded to bring them in, or even to own his own."
"I would think so, Master," she said.
"Not even at the banquets?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"Or at the small suppers, later to be chained to rings near the guests?"
"No," she said.
"I see," I said.
This information fitted in with certain surmises I had formed earlier. If my surmises were correct, it would fit in well with my plans.
"Why does Master ask?" she asked.
"Curiosity is not becoming in a kajira," I said.
"Forgive me, Master," she said.
"My question was suggested to me," I said, "by the helplessness of your slave responses."
"I do not understand," she said.
"There are various movements in slave dance," I said, "of the hips, the belly, and such, indeed, of the entire body, which are clearly akin to, and reminiscent of, the movements of love and need."
"Yes, Master?" she said.
"To be sure, in the dance," I said, "these movements tend to be under much stricter control. The dance is, after all, an art form. Nonetheless it is clear that the sexuality of the dancer is not uncommonly aroused. After all, it is hard for a woman to be beautiful and sensuous without having her sexuality ignited. Indeed, few are the dancers who have not upon occasion, even in the dance itself, succumbed to orgasmic helplessness. This can occur to them while they are on their feet, but more often it will occur during floor movements or when they are on their knees."
"Yes, Master," whispered the girl.
"And your movement," I said, "suggested to me that you might make a dancer."
"I see," she said.
"You also have an excellent body for a dancer," I said.
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Would you like to trained for the dance?" I asked.
"I do not know, Master," she said, frightened.
"Or would you dare to be so beautiful?"
"I am a slave," she whispered. "It will be done with me as masters wish."
"But would you like it?" I asked.
"Perhaps, Master," she whispered, fearfully.
"It is something to keep in mind," I said.
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
Phoebe was moaning to one side, locked in the arms of Marcus.
I moved a little.
The girl in my arms gasped. "Oh," she whispered. She looked at me, beggingly. "Please," she whispered.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Please continue my subjugation," she said.
"Are you certain you wish it?" I asked.
"Yes!" she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I am a slave," she said. "It is appropriate that I be subjugated!"
"I see," I said.
"I understand my sex, and its meaning," she said.
"In bondage," I said, "you have discovered these things?"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"I see," I said.
"And I have been given little choice, Master," she smiled.
"True," I said.
"Please!" she suddenly wept.
"Incidentally," I said, "when you kneel before the free woman, in your carefully prepared modest garb, fit for a lowly slave, as you must soon do, to convey to her the message which will be inserted in the message tube about your neck, be certain to kneel with your knees closely together."
"Certainly, Master," she said. "She is a female, not a male."
"But even more importantly," I said, "insofar as you can, before her, and before any other free woman who might be in attendance upon her, conceal your sexuality. Do not let them suspect it. Let them think that you are as inert and meaningless as they are."
"That is common by slave girls before free women, Master," she said. "It does not take us long to learn that, once we are in the collar."
"I see," I said.
"But I do not think they are always fooled," she said.
"Perhaps not," I said.
"Even as long ago as in the house of Appanius," she said, "I was twice switched by free women who had come to see him on business."
"Do the best you can," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Seem to be merely a modest, deferential girl, demurely clad, awed perhaps, discharging your errand."
"Have no fear," she said, "but what I shall be awed in such a presence."
"She is only another woman," I said, "and if she were stripped and in a collar, she would be no different from you."
"Master!" protested the slave.
"Indeed, you might be first girl over her," I said.
"Please, Master!" she protested.
"It is true," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Another thing," I said. "I do not think it would be in your best interest for you to convey to her in any way, inadvertently or otherwise, even in feminine vanity, the hint, to be sure, the false hint, that there might be anything between you and the putative master of the note you bear."