"Have me again, Master," she begged. "Very well," I said.
And as she moaned and gasped in my arms, and cried out, and I held her so closely she could not escapel, I pondered the nature of human beings. And then I too, cried out and with force owned her as a woman. In those obliterating movements, I knew who I was and who she was. "Be had, Slave!" I told her. "You give me pleasure." "Yes, Master," she wept.
Later we lay quietly together side by side.
Perhaps it is wrong to be men and women. But on the other hand, perhaps it isnot wrong to be men and women. It is what we are. Perhaps it is not wrong to be what we are. That is a genuine possibility. Perhaps it is not wrong to be what wer are. If that is so, then it may quite possibly be right, or at least morally permissible to be what we are. And if that is true, we may be entitled to our own natures, and the happinesses attendant upon the fulfillment of those natures. How then I envied the Gorean brutes to whom such question couldscarcely arise. The Goreans, for example, have not been conditioned to exalt thirst or to wonder if it is morally permissible to drink water, and if so, under what conditions and subject to what restrictions. In the dehydration they find nothing morally commendable. Indeed, naive folk, it does not even occur to them to debate such questions. They are, however,in viture of this attitude, at the least, spared certain eccentric neuroses.
"On Gor," whispered the girl next to me, "I have learned that men and women are not identical."Yes," I said. I smiled to myself. I knew at least one culture in which this obvious biological truism would count as political heresy, to be punished by ostracism, slander, and when possible economic penalties. What a tragic world and culture that was. How I pitied those who, in order not to jeopardize their careers in an antibiological environment, were forced to subscribe publicly to such doctrines. How rare is courage.
"And men," she said, "or Gorean men, or men of a Gorean type are the masters."Yes," I said."And women such as I are their slaves," she said. "yes, I said. "Lick and kiss me." "Lick and kiss you?" she said. "Yes," I said. "You command me like a Gorean slave girl," she said.
"That is what you are," I told her. "Yes, Master," she said. "You do it well," I told her. She trembled. "Tasdron taught me," she said. I smiled. I could well imagine Tasdron teachng her and she, knowing him to be her legal master, desperately striving to learn. If she did not do well she would know that she might be whipped to within an inch of her life or fed, alive, to hungry sleen. Under such circumstances, girls learn quickly and well.
"Ah," I said. "Is Master pleased?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "Then Peggy too is pleased." "Complete your work," I said. "Yes Master," she said.
Later she lay beside me, her head at my thigh. My hand wandered to her hair, and then to her neck, inclosed in the narrow steel collar. I fingered the lock at her back. She put her mouth to my thigh. I felt the warmth of her breath on my thigh. I felt her lips, the pressing of her teeth. Then she kissed me, and lay again, quietly beside me.
"You treated me like a Gorean slave girl," she said. "That is what you are," I told her. "Yes, Master," she laughed. "It is true." She kissed me again. "I knew that I had convinced you," she said. "How did you know?" I asked. "In the past Ahn," she said, "you commanded me as casually and thoughtlessly as you might have any Gorean slut in a collar. Thus, in joy, I recognized that you had come to regard me, quite properly, as one of them." "I see," I said.
"You see," she said, "I am the same. I am no different. I am only another girl in the collar, another woman who must obey you and serve your pleasure." "Are you content?" I asked. "Yes, Master," she said, "as would any woman in the arms of a man such as you."
"Are you happy?" I asked. "I am joyful in the fulfillment of my nature." she said. "I am a slave. At last I have come to a world where there are men who wish for me to please them, and will see that I do so, and want me, and will have me, a world where there are masters."
"I must be going," I told her. She looked up frightened."Do not go yet," she said, "let me please you again." "Appetitious slave," I said. "On Gor, she said, "my appetites have been ignited. It has pleased men to ignite them."
"Are you dismayed?" I asked. "No, Master," She said. "On this world I need not be ashamed of my appetites. On this world it is appropriate that I am hot and belong to men." "In your belly there is slave fire?" I asked. "Yes, Master," she said, "In my belly there burns slave fires. I do not pretend that it does not." "Shameless slave," I said. "Yes, Master," she said."For whom in this moment," I asked, "do your slave fires burn?" You Master," she whispered. I hesitated. "Be merciful, Master," she bgged. "Satisfy me."
I put her beneath me in the capture position, and subjected her to swift slave rape. She cried out with pleasure, yet used to harshly and brutally.I struck her away from me and drew on my tunic. I must to work early at the sharves. At down I wished to be in the hiring yard. I looked down at her.
"Are all women such slaves as you?" I asked. She smiled up at me, curled on the furs. "Yes, Master," she said. I turned to go.
"Master," she said. I turned again to face her. "You have made much of the fact that I am an Earth girl and a slave," she said. "Yes," I said. "there is another girl in whom you are interested, isn't there," she asked, "an Earth girl?" Perhaps," I said. "Is she a slave?" she asked.
"No," I said. I had freed her. "That is unfortunate," she said. I shrugged.
"Does she have a Home Stone?" she asked."No," I said."Then enslave her" she said. "She is different from you," I said."Is she pretty?" she asked. "Yes," I said."Then she is not so different," she said, "Have I seen her?" "Long ago, once," I said, "at the restaurant. She was with me."
"She!" laughed the girl. "Yes," I said. "She was very pretty Master," she said. "Is she on Gor?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "And free?" she asked. "Yes," I said.
"I do not like that," said the girl, "Why should I be a slave and she be free?"
"If she were here," I said, "you would have to kneel before her, and obey her."The collared girl shuddered. Slave girls fear free women, greatly. There is little to wonder about in this. Free women, perhaps envying them their collars, are often extremely cruel to them.
"Do you think she would make a good slave?" I asked.The girl smiled. "I think she would make an excellent slave, Master."I shall have to keep that in mind." I said.Swiftly the girl knelt before me. "I assure you that she is a slave," she said. "I remember her. She is a slave. It is wrong for her not to be put in a collar. She is a slave, truly. Thus she should be made a slave, and be used, and treated and handled accordingly."You do not know her," I said."Perhaps it is you who do no tknow her," she said… I smiled."I am an enslaved woman," said the girl. "Do you now think that one slave knows another?"