"Oh!" she said.
"It is difficult to conjecture how beautiful you might be, if you were truly a slave."
"Do you think I would be a beautiful slave?" she asked.
"yes," I said.
"I thought I might be," she said, cuddling down in the furs, "but let men despair, for I shall never be a slave."
I then withdrew from the alcove, closing the curtains behind me. I heard a small sound of the chain, from within, as she moved her ankle.
I conjectured that it must now be about the eighteenth Ahn. Flaminius, probably with his men, would be arriving in the neighborhood of the nineteenth Ahn. This did not give me a great deal of time for all I wished to do. I looked about the inn. The Tassa powder which I had placed in the wine had already, mostly, taken its effect. One of the Lady Yanina's men lifted his head from the table, looking at me groggily, and then tried to rise to his feet. His legs failed him and he sprawled back, over the bench, and then, half catching himself, slipped to the tiles of the inn floor. I had had little difficulty in locating the Tassa powder. It had been contained among the belongings of the lady Yanina. I had discovered it on my first full day as her servant, while tidying her tent. It had been contained in a small chest of capture equipment, such as weighted slave nets, ropes, hoods, gags and manacles. Similarly I had had access to the general stores of the camp, that I might more conveniently wait upon and serve her and her guards. With the aid of the lamp taken from the table, about which the guards now lay sprawled, I soon located, in one of the farther alcoves, what I was looking for.
I then returned to the table about which the guards lay and replaced the small lamp on its surface. The things I had taken from the alcove I put to one side. I then went to the curtained threshold of the alcove wherein lay the Lady Yanina. I jerked apart the curtain.
"Brinlar!" she said, startled, drawing back on the furs, her legs under her, with a movement of chain, against the back wall of the alcove.
I regarded her.
"You startled me," she said.
I did not speak.
"Is he here?" she whispered.
"yes," I said. "He is here."
"Where?" she asked, in a whisper.
"Just outside the alcove," I said. "I suggest you compose yourself. I suggest you prepare yourself for him. I suggest you invite him to your arms."
"Yes," she whispered, frightened. "Yes."
I stepped back a bit, as though to yield the threshold, that it might admit the entrance of another.
The Lady Yanina now lay seductively on her side. She was quite beautiful in the slave silk, and the chain, in the light of the tiny lamp. She gathered together her powers of concentration. Then she extended one hand. "I love you, Bosk of Port Kar," she called, softly. "I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. At the very thought of you I am helpless and weak. Do not be dismayed that someone whom you do not know and whom you have perhaps never even seen is madly in love with you!" I have fought my passion for you! But it has conquered me! I am yours!"
She looked at me. "Very good," I said, nodding.
"Permit me to confess my love for you," she called. "Permit me, too, the dignity, as I am a free woman, of using your name in my doing so, before perhaps, if it pleases you, you impose upon me the discipline of a slave."
I nodded.
"I love you, Bosk of Port Kar," she cried. "I love you!
There was silence.
"What is wrong?" she whispered to me.
I shrugged. "Perhaps he intends to make you wait a moment or two," I said.
She make a small movement of impatience.
I frowned.
She then again composed herself, seductively. Again she extended her hand. "I lie here panting with passion," she called, "as submitted as a slave."
Many of the things which she had said, incidentally, were not different from the genuine, heartfelt declarations of women in love, particularly those so much in love that they find themselves, in effect, the slaves of masters. One the other hand, of course, the Lady Yanina was acting. It is not difficult for a skilled master, incidentally, to discriminate between such declarations which are genuine and those which are not, usually in virtue of incontrovertible body clues. The lying female is then punished. Soon she learns that her passion must be genuine. She then sees to it, with all the consequences, physical, psychological and emotional, attendant upon it, consequences which, at first, are sometimes found horrifying or disturbing but which, ultimately, because of their relation to her depth nature, when she surrenders to this, are found joyfully and gloriously fulfilling. She is then herself, fully.
"Hurry to me, Bosk of Port Kar!" she cried. "I desire your touch! I desire to serve you! I beg to please you! I plead to please you! Take pity on me! Do not torture me so! Do not make me wait longer! Hurry to me, Bosk of Port Kar, my lover, my master!"
"Good," I said.
"Enter my alcove!" she cried. "I am yours!"
I entered the alcove. I did not have a great deal of time.
"Brinlar," she cried, drawing her legs under her, "what are you doing!"
"What do you mean, 'what am I doing!?" I asked.
"Where is Bosk of Port Kar?" she asked.
"He is here," I said.
"Where?" she asked.
"Here," I said, jerking my thumb toward my chest. "I am he."
"Do not be absurd!" she said.
"Kneel," I said.
"Is this some form of mad joke, Brinlar?" she asked. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"
"I believe you received a command," I said.
"Men!" she cried, leaping to her feet. "Men! Men!"
I let her run to the threshold of the alcove, where the shackle on her left ankle held her up short. She looked wildly out into the main hall. From where she stood, at the curtains, in the light, and shadows, of the small lamp on the table, she could see the slumped, fallen, senseless figures of her guards.
"Tassa powder," I explained. "It was your own. I believe you are familiar with its effects."
I then took her by the upper arms and hurled her back into the alcove, with a rattle of chain, onto the furs.
She scrambled about, and looked at me, wildly. "You are not Bosk of Port Kar!" she cried. "You cannot be Bosk of Port Kar!"
"I am Bosk of Port Kar," I assured her.
"You have gone mad, Brinlar!" she cried. "This is an outrage! Release me!"
I smiled.
"Sleen! Sleen!" she wept.
"You are a female," I said, "and you are in slave silk, and chained. I suggest you keep a respectful tongue in your head, unless you wish to have it removed."
She looked at me, frightened.
"Do you recall having received a command earlier?" I asked.
She knelt.
"How does it feel to be kneeling before a man?" I asked.
She clenched her fists.
"You are wearing slave silk," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"Remove it," I said.
"No," she said.
I reached to the wall and took a slave whip from its hook. Such things are common in the alcoves of inns and taverns on Gor. They help a girl be mindful of her duties.
"Now," I said.
` She jerked the silk angrily from her body.
"You are quite beautiful," I said, "for a free woman."
She tossed her head, angrily. "Thank you," she said.
"Kiss the whip," I said.
"Never!" she said.
"You will kiss it now, or after you have felt it," I said. "It does not matter to me."
"I will kiss it," she said angrily.
"More lingeringly," I said, "and lick it, as well."
She complied.
"Now, kiss it again," I said.
She complied.
"Now say, 'I have licked and kissed the whip of a man, " I said.
"I have licked and kiss the whip of a man!" she said. "Now what are you going to do with me?"
I do not have much time," I said.
"I do not understand," she said.
"Turn about," I said, "and lean forward, resting on the sides of your forearms."