"I see that you have dismissed a slave," said the free woman, she with the low dA©colletage.
"Yes," I said.
"Are you from out of town?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. The ring was not on her finger now.
"Are you enjoying Ar?" she asked.
I shrugged.
"It can be lonely for a stranger," she said.
"Would you care to join me?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It would not be proper, I do not even know you." "Forgive me," I said. "I did not mean to be forward."
She moved her left foot a little, causing the bangles on her left ankle to move slightly. Most free women, of course, would never wear such things. They are regarded as suitable and appropriate only for slaves. She moved the bracelets on her left wrist up her forearm an inch or two. The tiny noise this made was exciting, slave exciting. With one hand she threw her hair back. It was loose. Slaves commonly wear their hair loose. She moved subtly, charmingly, seemingly inadvertently, within the dress. Then she seemed, suddenly, concerned with it. Could there be something wrong with it? She then, almost apologetically, adjusted one of the shoulder straps of the dress, pulling it up tighter and more to the side. She did this as though not giving it much though, and as though modestly, but in such a way, with such a movement of her body, and with such an effect, that she called dramatic and inevitable attention to the marvelousness of her breasts. Such breasts, I thought, would probably increase her value as a slave.
"That is all right," she said. "No offense was taken."
"I am really very sorry," I said.
"It is my fault," she smiled. "I should not have been so forward. I should not have spoken first."
"Please join me," I said.
She knelt at the table, in the position of the free woman.
"I spoke," she said, "for I was pleased to see that you had dismissed the slave."
"She is only an Earth girl," I said.
"So low?" she inquired.
"Yes," I said.
"I do wish they would put them in clothing," she said.
"They do have their collars," I said.
"True," she laughed.
"Are you sure you could not accept a drink?" I asked.
She seemed to consider the matter, and then, after giving it some thought, smiled. "All right," she said.
"What would you like?" I asked.
"Perhaps a tiny glass of ka-la-na," she said, "among friends."
I looked to the left, Louise, as she had been bidden, was watching. I lifted my finger. The Earth girl then leapt up and hurried to the table. At the table she knelt.
"A small bottle," I said, "of the Slave Gardens of Anesidemus." "I have heard that is a marvelous ka-la-na," said the free woman, her eyes alight.
"So, too, have I," I said.
"It is very expensive," said the woman.
"Are you familiar with it?" I asked.
"Oh," she said, lightly, "I have had it a few times."
"Do you like it?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "Yes!"
"Fetch it," I said to Louise.
"Yes, Master," she said, rising to her feet, and hurrying to the bar.
"That is the slave whom you earlier dismissed, is it not?" she asked.
"I think so," I said.
"You hardly noticed," she said, pleased.
I shrugged.
"I am so pleased to meet a man such as you," she said.
"Oh?" I asked.
"One who understands the value of a free woman," she said.
I supposed free women did have value. Slavers, for example, will pay for them. "So many men," she said, "are interested only in slaves."
"Really," I asked.
"Yes," she said. "There is no understanding it. I find it unaccountable." "I can see you are astounded," I said.
"What can a man see in any of those sluts?" she asked.
"A slave," I said.
"Precisely," she said. "Disgusting!"
"Some men like them," I said.
"Is that what men really want?" she asked. "A woman who is totally theirs, one who is fully in their power, one who must strive desperately to serve them perfectly in all things, one who is absolutely and helplessly at their mercy, one who must lick and kiss at their least word?"
"I am afraid there are some men who do not object to that," I admitted. "I am sure you find free women of some interest," she said.
"Certainly I find them of interest," I said. The most interesting thing about them, of course, was that they could be seized and enslaved. After that they might become of real interest to a man. The female slave, of course, yours in her servitude, is ten thousand times more interesting than a free woman could ever dream of being. In any contest of desirability the free woman must always lose out to the slave, and if she does not seem to do so, then let her be enslaved, and see how she then, suddenly, in a moment, competing then with her former self, becomes ten thousand times more desirable than she ever was as a mere free female.
"Master," said Louise, the nude, slender, red-haired Earth-girl slave, returning. She knelt near the table. She placed the small bottle of ka-la-na on the table, and two tiny cups.
"She is a pretty little thing," said the free woman.
I flicked my finger, dismissing the slave, not bothering to look at her. This pleased the free woman. I wondered how one of the usual, close-fitting Gorean slave collars would look on her own throat. Well, I thought. Such collars set off the beauty of a woman, the encircling steel, significatory of bondage, contrasting nicely with the softness of her throat, shoulders and breasts. "Yes, please," said the woman.
I poured.
"To you," she said, lifting her glass.
"No," I said, "to you."
"Thank you," she said. I saw that she was flattered by this. She glowed. Her breasts were very nice.
We touched glasses. We drank.
"Oh, it is marvelous ka-la-na," she purred. I gathered that she had never before had such ka-la-na. True, it might run the buyer as much as three copper tarsks, a price for which some women can be purchased.
"I am pleased that you like it," I said.
"I am Tutina, Lady of Ar," she said, warmly, intimately, leaning forward. "That is a lovely name," I said. To be sure, if I owned her, I thought I would shorten it to Tina. That is an excellent slave name. Indeed, I had owned slaves with that name.
She basked in my praise.
"I am called Tarl," I said.
"Oh," she said, reprovingly, "that is such a fierce name."
I shrugged.
"It is a northern name, is it not?"
"It is common in the north," I said, "particularly in Torvaldsland." "Men from Torvaldsland frighten me," she said. "They are so strong with women. You are not from Torvaldsland, are you?"
"No," I said. To be sure, I had been in Torvaldsland, and I felt that I knew as much as any fellow there about what to do with a woman at his feet. But then any true master anywhere knows as much. Indeed, although the men of Torvaldsland are find and strong masters, they are generally rather direct and straightforward about what they are doing. In the south, in the cities, in my opinion, because of the richness in history and tradition, and the much greater cultural sophistication and complexity, a female is likely to find herself placed under a much stricter and more exacting bondage than in the north. To be sure, much depends on the girl and the master. Some girls thrive best with uncompromising barbarian masters who will put them on the oar or under the whip at the least sign of their being displeasing and others find that they did not truly understand helplessness and submission until they found their chain fastened to the couch ring of a gentleman.
"That is reassuring, " she smiled. "Where are you from?"
"From the northwest, near Thassa," I said. I saw no reason to tell her I was from Port Kar. She might then have become not feignedly, but actually, alarmed. Most of the fellows of Port Kar have something of the ruthless lust of pirates in their view of females, coupled with some knowledge, because of a popular form of commerce in the city, of sophisticated techniques of slave handling and management.