"No, Master," I said.
"You are a worthless slave girl," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You can be bought or sold in any market," he said, "for a handful of copper tarsks."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Why then," he asked, "do I concern myself with you?"
"I do not know, Master," I said.
"You may move, Slave Girl," he said.
With a wanton cry I pressed myself against him.
"You see," he said, "the women of Earth are natural slaves."
"Yes, Master," I wept.
"You are obviously only a common girl," he said.
"Yes, Master!" I cried softly.
I began to lick at him beneath the chin and kiss him. I clutched at him. I wept and laughed and writhed, holding him.
"Only a common girl," he said. "Only a common slave." I put my tear-stained cheek against the hardness of his chest, holding him. I could feel the hair on his chest between his body and the softness of my cheek. "Yes, Master," I whispered.
"You do not even have a name," he said.
"No, Master," I said.
"Of what importance is a nameless animal?" he asked.
"None, Master," I said.
"How can you be of interest?" he asked.
"I do not know, Master," I said.
"And yet you are a pretty little animal," he said.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"I shall conquer you," he said.
"You have conquered me long ago," I said.
"I shall conquer you anew," he said.
"Every time you look upon me, or touch me," I said, "I am conquered anew." I felt his chest beneath my cheek. I held him in the darkness. "I am your conquest, fully and completely, Master," I said. "I am your slave."
"Perhaps my slave should have a name," he said.
"As Master wills," I said.
He took me by the shoulders and lifted and turned me. He put me beneath him. I felt the furs and the ground beneath my back. I felt his arms about me. I moaned as my body received and clasped him.
"Do not move," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I wanted to yield.
"I shall name you," he said.
I lay in the darkness, helpless, imprisoned in the strength of his arms, waiting to learn whom I would be.
"The name," he said, "for you are a common girl, and worthless, should be an unimportant name, one plain and simple, one fitting for a valueless girl, an ignorant, branded she-slave such as you."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"You are even a barbarian," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Some men," he said, "enjoy putting a barbarian girl through her paces."
"Put me through my paces, I beg of you, Master!" I wept.
"Do not move," he cautioned.
"Yes, Master," I wept. I so wanted to yield to him. I was on the brink of yielding, but he would not let me move. It was as though I wanted to burst.
"I myself," he smiled, "enjoy putting any girl, civilized or barbarian, through her paces."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Did you know," he asked, "that in the throes of slave orgasm there is no difference between a civilized and barbarian girl?"
"No, Master," I said.
"It is interesting," he said. "In slave orgasm they are spasmodically identical."
"We are all women, only women," I said, "in the arms of our masters."
"Doubtless that is it," he mused.
"Permit me to yield!" I begged.
"Do not move," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, through gritted teeth. I was so much his! Why would he not have me?
"You speak Gorean with an accent," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master," I begged.
"Do not change," he said. "The accent becomes you. It marks you as different and makes you more interesting."
"Perhaps that is what Master finds interesting about his girl," I said.
"Perhaps," he said. "But I have owned barbarian girls before."
"Other girls from the planet Earth?" I whispered.
"Of course," he said. "Do not move."
"No, Master," I said. Suddenly I resented and hated those other girls from the bottom of my heart. How angry and jealous I was!
"The little slave is angry," he said. "Do not move."
"No, Master," I said.
I lay in the darkness, in his arms, trying not to move.
"What became of the Earth girls whom you owned before me, Master?" I asked.
"Was a slave given permission to speak?" he asked.
"Forgive me, Master," I said. "May a slave speak?"
"Yes," he said.
"You owned other Earth girls," I said. "Where are they?"
"I do not know," he said.
"What did you do with them?" I asked.
"I have had five such women, not including yourself, my dear," he said. "I gave two away, and sold off three."
"Are you going to sell me, or give me away?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he said.
I moaned. He could do what he wished, of course.
"Did they love you?" I asked.
"I do not know," he said. "Perhaps. Perhaps, not."
"Did they protest their love to you?" I asked.
"Of course," he said. "That sort of thing is common among slave girls."
"And yet you gave them away, or sold them?"
"Yes."
"How could you do that, Master?" I asked.
"They were only slaves," he said in explanation.
I uttered a cry of anguish. I could be discarded as easily. "You were cruel," I said, "Master."
"How can one be cruel to a slave?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "How can one be cruel to a slave?"
"You're crying," he said.
"Forgive me, Master," I said.
We lay together in the darkness, I not permitted to move. I heard the peasant boys finishing with my sisters in bondage. Afterwards they would be put in slave hobbles.
"What was your barbarian name?" he asked.
"Judy Thornton," I said, "Master."
"How came you into my possession?" he asked.
"You won me in challenge, Master," I said. "Then you made me your slave."
"Ah, yes," he said. What a beast he was, me so naked, so helpless in his arms.
"Barbarians have such complicated names," he said.
"It is two names, Master," I said. "My first name was Judy, my second name was Thornton."
"Barbarous," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"I do not like those names," he said. "Therefore they will not be yours."
"Yes, Master," I said. I supposed such names did sound unfamiliar, and barbarous, to a Gorean ear.
"What was the name of your barbarian master?" he asked.
"I do not understand, Master," I stammered.
"The barbarian who owned you on Earth," he said. "Perhaps we can use his name."
"But I was not owned on Earth, Master," I said. "I was a free woman."
"Women such as you are permitted to be free on Earth?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Of what sort are the men of Earth?" he asked.
"Of a sort other than Gorean, Master," I said.
"I see," he said. "Are the men happy?" he asked.
"No," I told him.
"Are the women happy?" he asked.
"No," I told him.
"I see," he said.
"Do the men of Earth not find you beautiful and desirable?" he asked.
"They have been weakened," I told him. "I did not know what it was to be desired until I came to this world." I clutched him. "It is only in the arms of true men, such as you, Master," I said, "that I have learned what it is to be a woman."