"The brunette four sales ago," said the man next to me, "was she not superb?" Yes," I said. She had indeed been stuning. In this market to her indignation, she had gone for only fourteen copper tarsks. She had been sold to an agent of Clark of Thentis. The next brunette, in my opinion, had been even more stunning. She had gone for a mere fifteen copper tarsks. She had been sold to a Cleanthes ofTeletus.
"Sold to Var, of Port Cos!" called the auctioneer and a redhead was taken from the platform."And here," called the auctioneer, "we have one of the cathces of Kliomenes, taken near Lara. He tore the sheet away from the girl on the block, throwing it to the side. She wore only her sales collar with her sales disk on which was written her lot number, wired to the steel.
"A cold, prissy, little Earth slut," called the auctioneer, "and yet one not without interst as you can see." he bent her back, his hand in her hair, exposing the bow of her beauty to the men. There was a sound of pleasure from the crowd.
"She is already branded," said the auctioneer, "but has served primarily as a display slave, and not a use slave."
He then turned her, still keeping his hand in her hair so that those on his left might better see her. "Accordingly," he said, "she is not yet fully broken to the collar." There was laugher fromthe crowd. He then turned her so that those on his right might better see her. "In my opinion," said he, "it is now time for this girl to learn the various uses to which a slave can be put." Yes!" shouted more than one fellow. He then, as she gasped, bend her back a bit more, turing her again toward her left, so that she was presented exquistitely to the men. "Does she not appear ready for taming and heating?" inquired the auctineer.
"Yes," shouted several men, "yes!" The girl trembled. She knew she nmight belong to any one of them. "What am I bed?" called the auctioneer. "Two copper tarsks," called a man. "Four!" cried another. "Six!" "Seven!" Nine!" "Eleven!"
"This is an exquisite little slut!" called the auctioneer. He then released her hair. "Stand straight," he ordered the girl. She did so. He walked about the platform with the whip.
"Twelve!" Thirteen!" She was beautiful enough to be a display slave," said the auctioneer. "Fourteen!" was called out. "Now you can have her for your own work and use slave!" "Fifteen!" I heard."Consider her, surrendered, squirming in your furs!" he said. "Sixteen!" I heard.
"Do I heard only sixteen tarsks for this equisite little bargain?" inquired the auctioneer, incredulously. "Sixteen," repeated the man.
The auctioneer spun to face the girl. "Kneel, and kiss the whip he ordered her. Swiftly the girl, frightened, knelt before him. She took the coild of the whip in her small hands and lowering her head kissed them.
"On your feet," barked the auctioneer. "I will have a fit price for you." The girl, terrified, sprang to her feet. "Put her through her paces!" called a man. "Let us see what she can do!" called another.
The auctioneer shook out the coils of the whip. He then, rapidly, loudly, clearly, in a seris of orders, sometimes cracking the whip, commanded the girl, one by one, swiftly to assume an intriately patterened series of postures and attitudes. Seldom, I think in so brief a compass could a woman be displayed so fully as a female. He then cracked his whip and ordered her to stand straight upon the platform, sucking n her gut. She was breathing heavily; there were tears in her eyes; she was trembling; she was covered with sweat and saw-dust. He had permitted her no respite or quarter. The buyers now well understood the nature of the goods on which they were bidding.
"Twenty-two tarsks!" called a man. "Twenty-three!" called another.
So stunned I was that I had not even entered the bidding. I had never dreamed she could be so beautiful. What fools are the men of Earth, I thought, for the woman on the block was an Earth woman, to let their women off so lightly. What fools they are not to own their women and force them to manifest the true fullness and desirability of their beauty. The woman on the block was an Earth woman. Did she not show, in her own person, how beautiful the women of Earth could be.And yet I knew that on Earth such women commonly languished, their beauty denied its meaning and fulfillment, their beautiy not summoned forth, not commanded forth, for the pleasure, the sport, and service of strong men.
Twenty-five tarsks!" Twenty-six!" Twenty-seven!" Twenty-eight!" "Thirty!"
"Buy her," a voice seemed to say to me."Buy the slave! Make her yours!" "No, no!" I said, half aloud. "I cannot!". "What did you say?" asked the man next to me. "Nothing, nothing!" I said.
"Thirty-five!" I heard. "Forty!" I heard.Forty-two!" I could not even enter the bidding. I could scarcely breathe. My heart was pounding. I had never dreamed she could be so beautiful. It seemed I could not een speak. I could not take my eyes off the girl under the torches, the collar and slaves disk at her throat. I was trembling.
"Forty-four!" I heard. "Forty-six!"
I trembled. I had seen Miss Beverly Henderson kiss the whip. I had seen her put through slave paces.
"Forty Seven! I heard. "Ninety tarks!" called a man. The auctioneer stepped back from the girl, the whip inhis hand.
"I have ninety tarsks," he called. "She is not so cold," said the man next to me. "No," I said, "no."
"Ninety-two tarsks!" called a man. "Ninety-Four!" called another.I have ninety-four tarks," called the auctioneer. "I prepare to close my hands," called the auctioneer."Ninety-eight!" I cried out suddenly. I was startled to hear my own voice. The girl lifted her head dully.
"Ninety-eight, I have ninety-eight!" called the auctioneer. "Do I heard more? Do I hear more?"
There was silence. "I prepared to close my hand," said the auctioneer. "I close my hand!"
I owned Miss Henderson.
10. We Leave the Sales Barn of Lysander; Miss Henderson Will Share my Lodgings
Miss Henderson was thrust from the block. I made my way toward the foot of the block. My head seemed to swim. I was scarcely conscious of my movments. I moved as through in a dream.
"Jason?" she asked, from within the bars of the holding cage at the right of the sales block. Already her left ankle had been shackled. "Jason?" I handed the receipt to the cate attendant. At the table I had paid ninety-eight tarsks.
I saw the sales disk removed from her collar and put ina small, wooden box. I saw the shackle removed from her ankle. I saw the door to the cage open and saw her pushed forth, before me.
"Do you not know enough to kneel before your master?" asked the attendant. Swiftly she knelt.
I lifted her to her feet and held her in my arms. "Is it you Jason?" she whispered. "Is it truly you?" "Yes," I said, "it is I."
She began to weep and I held her close to me. She shuddered inmy arms. She sobbed. I felt her tears through my tunic. "Jacon," she sobbed, "Jason, Jason."