"Oh!" she said. I pulled up her garment and drew it up under her arms and over her breasts, and then hooded her with it. "Kneel here, facing the door," I said. "And wait."
She knelt, braceleted, hooded, in the narrow space betw4en the two bunks, facing the door.
I then left the wagon, padlocking it shut behind me. IN a moment or so, retrieving the plate, I rejoined Boots near the fire. He was still eating. I am not clear whether this was a third breakfast, or a mere continuation of a somewhat prolonged second breakfats. In the case of Boots, such distinctions would occasionally prove difficult to draw. "The free woman has been fed," I announced.
"It is just as well," said Boots. "It is nearly time for lunch."
Boots was given to such jocular hyperbole. It was actually several Ehn until lunch time.
He gazed at Lady Telitsia. She wavered, slightly, and caught herself. I feared she might faint with hunger.
"May I speak, Master?" she whispered.
"Yes," he said.
She put her head down to the dirt. Her wrists were still tied before her body. "I beg for food, Master." she said.
"Are you hungry?" asked Boots.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"How long has it been since you have eaten?" inquired Boots.
"Since dawn, yesterday," she said, "when I, only a lowly slave, and the other woman, she noble and free, were fed in the brigand's camp."
"You are probably hungry, then," said Boots.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do you beg on your belly?" inquired Boots.
"Yes, Master," she said, putting her bound wrists forward and lowering herself to her belly. She lifted her head. It was at Boots's knee.
"Speak," said Boots.
"I beg food," she said.
"Speak more clearly," said Boots.
"Lady Telitsia begs for at the hands of her master," she aid.
"Turn to your side," said Boots.
She then lay on her left side. Boots then, delicately, carefully, bit by bit, by hand, fed her. After a time he let her kneel near him and then he continued, but by bit, little by little, to feed her from his hand. She looked up at him, from the palm of his hand, which she had been licking. She looked up at him in gratitude. It was on him that her food depended. Boots then piled a plate with food and put it down before her. "Head down," he cautioned her. "Do not use your hands." She then put her head down and ate from the plate, not touching it with her hands. Finally she was even licking at the plate. She, like the free woman, the Lady Yanina, had be ravenous. Boots then took the plate from her. "Kneel here," he said. She knelt immediately, obediently, where he had indicated, facing him. "Thank you, Master," she said, "for feeding me."
"What do you think?" asked Boots.
"A pretty slave," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she whispered, trembling.
From her reaction I conjectured she was a virgin.
"On your back!" said Boots. "Put your hands over your head! Throw your legs apart, widely!"
"What do you think?" asked Boots.
"She is clumsy," I said, "but she is prompt and earnest."
"I cannot even use her in a girl tent now," said Boots, gloomily. "They would demand their money back. She is desperately in need of training."
"I think she will learn quickly," I said.
"She will, or she will be regularly lashed," said Boots.
"You will prove to be an apt pupil, will you not, Lady Telitsia?" I asked.
"I will struggle to learn!" she said, "I will try to do my best to please my Masters!"
"You will prove to be an apt pupil, will you not, Lady Telitsia?" I repeated.
"Yes, Master!" she said.
"Kneel," said Boots.
Swiftly she scrambled to her knees.
Boots regarded her. "I suppose you will prove to be troublesome," he mused, grimly.
"No, Master!" she said.
"Or you will fail to be fully pleasing, and it will be necessary to sell you for sleen feed," he said.
"No, Master!" she said.
"You have dared beg for food," he said. "You grow bold. Doubtless next you will wish a scrap of blanket for the girl wagon, or next even, outrageous effrontery, a brief rag to conceal some bits of your beauty, at least provisionally, from the eyes of men."
"Let it be down with me as my Master desires," she said. "I am his slave."
"The slave's response seems suitable," I said.
"Perhaps," admitted Boots, grudgingly. "Lift your wrists," he said to the girl.
She did so, putting her head down, between her then-lifted arms. Boots removed the thongs from her wrists. "Put your hands on your thighs," he said. He then regarded her, kneeling naked, frightened, before him, her hands on her thighs. Her knees were press3ed closely together. This is a natural, defensive posture in a new female slave.
"Perhaps later," said Boots, "when you have had more training, I will permit you to knee with your knees wide."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Are you not grateful?" inquired Boots.
"Yes, Master," said the girl,"Thank you, Master."
"Now seek out Rowena, the blond slave," said Boots. "I am using her now as first girl in the camp. She will put you about your duties."
"Yes, Master," said the girl, rising.
"Slave," said Boots.
"Yes, Master?" said the girl, turning, and dropping again to her knees, addressed by a free man.
"On second thought," said Boots, "go to my wagon, there. Enter it. Inside, facing the front of the wagon, kneel down, putting your head to the floor. I think I will begin your training."
"Yes, Master," she said, frightened, and leaped up, hurrying to his wagon, to obey.
"It seems we will not be leaving this camping area today," I said.
"Tomorrow will be soon enough," said Boots. He then rose to his feet, belched, spit on his hands, wiped them on his tunic, and stalked slowly, ponderously, like a good-natured, rotund, draft tharlarion, perhaps having eaten too much, toward his wagon.
In a moment or two I, too, had left the gray, smoldering ashes of the breakfast fire behind me. I then found myself at my own wagon. I climbed the stairs, taking no care to conceal my approach. I noisily removed the padlock from the door, and let it fall back against the side of the door, suspended on its short chain. I would wait a long moment before I opened the door. Within, inside the wagon, the Lady Yanina would be kneeling. Next she would obey.
11 The Lady Yanina Is Included in the Act
"You cannot do this to me!" cried the Lady Yanina.
"Behold," called Boots meaningfully to the crowd, "not a slave, but a free woman!"
"Stop!" cried the Lady Yanina. "I am free! Save me! Someone save me!"
"Should we attempt to rescue her?" asked one stout youth of another.
"Do not be silly," said his fellow. "It is all part of the act."
"Of course," agreed the first. "How stupid of me to fear otherwise."
"Help!" shrieked the Lady Yanina.
I now fastened Lady Yanina's left wrist in its place on the colorful red, trimmed-in-yellow, backboard. I had already buckled her right wrist in place.
"Gather around, good friends, good people," Boots encouraged the crowd. "Look closely upon her. Examine her!"
The crowd, thus encouraged, pressed in about us.
"See her throat," cried Boots. "It is innocent of the collar! See her thighs! No brand is upon them!"
The crowd pressed closely about, some of the men skeptically, roughly, examining Lady Yanina for slave marks. Certainly her costume, incredibly brief and brightly spangled, bared most of the common brand sites utilized by Gorean slavers in marketing women.
"Help!" cried the Lady Yanina. "Help!"
"You are doing very well," I congratulated her.
"I am not acting!" she cried. "Help! Help!"
One of the men pulled the top edge of her lower garment out and down a bit from her body, peering within. "What are you doing?" she cried.