"Yes, Mistress," I said, apprehensively.
I knew Melina did not like me, but I did not think she hated me more than the other girls. I was certainly not Thurnus's favorite. He preferred larger, wider hipped, larger breasted women than I, more of the sort that Melina might have been at one time, before, in her freedom, she had gone slack and fat.
"Come over here, pretty little bird," had said Melina, gesturing to me. She stood among the pilings of the hut, in the shade. I, the Earth-girl slave, obeyed her. I went to her and, for she was free and I slave, knelt deferentially before her, my head down.
"Remove your tunic, Dina," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said. I slipped the short woolen tunic over my head. I was now naked.
"Go to this piling," she said, indicating one of the pilings, "and kneel there, facing it."
I did so.
"Closer," she said. "Put your knees on either side of it, and put your belly against it."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Do you like our village?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, Mistress!" I said.
"Put your arms around the piling," she said, "and cross your wrists, palms up."
I complied.
"Are you happy here?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, Mistress!" I said.
"Would you like to leave our village?" she asked.
"Oh, no, Mistress!" I said. Then I added, hastily, "Unless it be Mistress's will!"
She removed a bit of cord from her robes. I felt my wrists lashed together on the other side of the piling. They were tied very tightly.
"Will that hold you?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
She stepped back from me. She looked at me, and then she went up the stairs into her hut, and, soon, returned, with a coil of rope. She tied one end of the rope on my rope collar and then, leaving me about a foot of slack, tied the rope about the piling, at the level of my neck. The rest of the rope, depending from the piling, she let fall to the dirt.
I looked up at her.
"You are a pretty one," she said.
Because of the rope on my neck I could not stand at the piling.
"Quite pretty," she said.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
I was secured, naked, on my knees, at the piling. I was her prisoner.
"A peddler," she said, "is in the village."
I knew this. His name was Tup Ladletender. Radish had told me this. I had seen his arrival. He drew a handcart. It had long handles, and two large wheels. In the cart were many shelves and racks, on which there was a rich miscellany of cheap goods, and pegs and loops, from which hung many utensils, pans and tools. Drawers in the side of the wagon contained, too, mysteries of goods, such as threads, cloths, scissors, thimbles, buttons and patches, brushes and combs, sugars, herbs, spices, packets of salt, and philtres of medicine. No one knew what all might be contained in that unusual cart.
"I am going to fetch him," said Melina, "to take a look at you."
At the piling, my heart leaped. Melina was going to sell me off, I thought, while Thurnus was out of the village.
"Present yourself to him well, you little slut," warned Melina, "or I will switch you to within an inch of your life."
"I will, Mistress!" I promised. Indeed I would! When might come another chance to escape the slavery of the village? I would do anything to escape peasant slavery! Present myself well? Indeed! I would be a wonder to him of obedient, sensuous female flesh! Then suddenly I was afraid. What sort of man was he? Different modalities of wench excite different men. I wanted to be exactly what he wanted. I was desperate to be exactly what he wanted. But what would he want? What a whore you are, I thought to myself. My wrists squirmed in the bonds in which Melina had fastened me. I did not know what he would want! Would he want a quiet, timid girl, one to throw to his feet and abuse? Would he want a lascivious wench, begging to reach him with her tongue? Would he want an angry, defiant girl, to be brought to her knees in docility and surrender? Or would he want, perhaps, a cold girl, haughty, icy with contempt, to be turned into a writhing slave, screaming piteously for his touch? I did not know. One thing I knew was that I would be presented beautifully, physically, to him. Melina had seen to that. She was a clever, shrewd woman. A girl is most beautiful when she is naked, save perhaps for a collar or chain. And I was tied kneeling, in submission position. And my knees were thrust apart by the piling, about which my hands were tied, against which my belly was thrust. This would suggest, perhaps only subconsciously, my vulnerability, my penetration, and the massiveness and irresistibility of masculine power, to which I, a slave girl, must helplessly submit. Too, my hands, tied as they were, contributed to the carefully calculated effect. When I raised them, tied as I was, the softness of their palms was brought against and about the piling, in an intimate clasp. The piling, thus, would be embraced, and held beautifully. Lastly, there was a rope on my neck, long, a tether. This might easily suggest, again perhaps only on a subconscious level, that I might be removed from the post, have my hands tied behind my back, and be led away, like a tethered tabuk doe, to the master's pleasure. Such a rope might easily be looped on the back of a wagon, and I would follow, naked, barefoot, behind the wagon, in the dust. Melina was clever.
"This is the slave," said Melina.
Startled, suddenly frightened, I clutched the post. It was an involuntary reaction. But, tied as I was, I could not have helped but seize it beautifully. I then realized Melina had wanted to startle me, from the direction from which she had approached, and the suddenness of her assertion. The man had seen the reaction of a beautiful, startled slave girl, bound at a post. It had been completely natural. Melina had intended that it would be.
I decided that I would be an Earth-girl slave, the desirability of whose flesh was being assessed, tied in a peasant village. I did not know what else to do, and that is what I was. On this world I was a beautiful barbarian and alien, from a world quite different, one which had not prepared me for their world. Perhaps Gorean men might find it of interest to own, and tame and train me. Earth girls, I had heard from Eta, made superb slaves. I supposed it was true.
"How are you, little vulo?" he said.
"Well, Master," I said.
"She is barbarian," he said.
"Oh?" said Melina. She knew I was barbarian.
"Open your mouth," said the man.
I opened my mouth.
"See?" he said to Melina. He had his fingers in my mouth, opening it widely. "In the back tooth, on the top, on the left," he said, "a tiny bit of metal."
"Physicians can do that," said Melina.
"Are you from a place called Earth?" asked the man.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"See?" he asked Melina.
"Clever slave," said Meina.
I feared I would be switched.
"I am Tupelius Milius Lactantius, of the Lactantii, of the merchants, of Ar," he said to me, "but we fell upon hard times, and I, though only eight at the time, fell as well, it being my duty, caste discipline, family pride and such."
I smiled.
"She smiles well," he said. "In the villages I am known as Tup Ladletender," he said. "What is your name?"
"What do you think of her?" asked Melina.
The man regarded me. "She is obvious collar meat," he said.
I felt shamed at the post. It was obvious to the eyes of a Gorean male that I was a slave. It was only a question as to my price, and to whom I would belong.
"Is she not pretty?" asked Melina.
"In the cities," said he, "such girls are numerous. In Ar alone, each year, thousands of such girls are vended and procured in the slave markets."
I shuddered.