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His eye looked to the slave flower, on the foot of the bed. She followed his eye.

“Punish me,” she said. “I am yours to do with as you will.”

“Do you care for your master?” he asked.

“I love him,” she said.

“A slave can love?” he asked.

“No woman who is not a slave can know what love truly is,” she said.

“I have heard that love makes a slave of a woman,” he said.

“That is why such feelings are forbidden to sames,” she said, “that women not be weakened, not be placed in such chains, not be so enslaved.”

“And yet,” she said, “it is only in such bondage that they are truly themselves, and truly free.”

“Interesting,” he said.

“And think how much more so is this the case when the woman is truly slave, legally, and in all respects.”

“Surely you fear the labors, the terrors, of slavery,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she said. “For we cannot choose our masters, and are owned, and must serve, unquestioningly. Yet, too, in such a condition, for all its miseries and terrors, we know ourselves the most needful and open to love, the most sexual, the most free, the most ourselves.”

He put aside the ship, and bent down, freeing her wrists.

“You may offer me the slave flower,” he said.

Timidly, confused, she took the flower from the bed, and, kneeling before him, with two hands, lifted it to him.

“I offer you my slave flower, Master,” she said.

“Stand,” he said, “turn about, cross your wrists behind your back.”

Startled, the slave did as she was told.

She felt her hands tied together, not gently, but rudely, tightly, behind her back. One hand still clung to the slave flower. She was tied in such a way that her hands were fastened rather at the center of the black, cloth cord, the ends of which were then brought together before her belly, and tied there, this holding her hands rather at the small of her back.

“Master?” she said.

“You have complied with the orders of your master,” he said. “You have come to my room, and have offered me the slave flower.”

“Master?”

“Perhaps you will come again, sometimes, to the room,” he said, “and will serve me, and I will see to it that you do it well, indeed, with perfection, but now, now I think I will spare you for your master.”

“I do not understand,” she said.

“I do not accept the flower,” he said. “I reject you. I am sending you back to your master.”

“Am I not of interest?” she asked.

“Vixen,” said he, “I am hastening you from the room before I cannot help myself, but throw you to the slave ring.”

“Master!” she cried, joyfully.

“Once, too,” he said, “you were of the honestori, of the empire, and a patrician.”

“But not now!” she said.

“No, not now,” he smiled.

He took the flower from her and thrust it in the cord at her waist. He put the bandeau, the bits of silk, and the ribbon, too, beneath the cord, but at the left hip.

He went to the door and opened it.

She regarded him, wonderingly, gratefully.

“Get out!” he said, hoarsely.

“Master!” she cried.

“Is it necessary to whip you from the room?” he inquired.

“No, Master!” she said.

At the door she stopped, momentarily, and lifted her lips to his cheek, and kissed it, lightly.

“Thank you, Master,” she said.

“Now, shapely slave girl,” he said, “get out!”

“Yes, Master!” she said.

“Oh!” she cried, sped forth into the hall, stung by a slap below the small of the back.

The guard looked up, from his chair, and then rose to his feet.

“She is rejected,” said Tuvo Ausonius to the guard.

“Do you want another?” asked the guard.

“There is one I would like,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“Who is she?” asked the guard.

“It is not important,” said Tuvo Ausonius, and retired within the room, and shut the door.

Flora hurried past the guard, to return to the lower floor.

CHAPTER 32

“Is it as she has spoken?” asked Otto.

“Yes,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

Flora knelt before the table, at which were seated Tuvo Ausonius, and a seeming same, the smaller individual who had accompanied him to the holding in the mountains, Julian, who was the master of the house, and Otto, her master.

Two slaves were in attendance, who would serve the table. One’s name was Renata, the other’s Gerune.

The individual seated by Tuvo Ausonius, she in same garb, seemed troubled, and fearful.

It was the evening following the visit of Flora to the room of Tuvo Ausonius.

Flora trembled.

Her master has summoned her before the table.

She knelt there, naked, save for a collar, her knees spread, in the fashion of a pleasure slave, her wrists crossed, her hands tied together before her body.

Her master wished, it seemed, a full account of what had occurred in the room of Tuvo Ausonius. The slave, for example, had returned early, rejected, the slave flower thrust in the black cord, it then serving to bind her, holding her wrists to her back.

She had been taken immediately to her cell, and unbound only within it, and then had been locked within.

She had been denied her garment.

Tuvo Ausonius had not objected to the interrogation of the slave, and had graciously acceded to Otto’s request that he monitor her testimony, in order to assure its absolute fidelity to what had occurred.

At times Otto’s eyes had blazed with fury, and his fists had clenched on the table.

But the slave fully, tearfully, honestly, gave an account of what she had done.

“Such behavior is to be punished surely, and terribly,” said Otto.

“You see,” said Otto, turning to Julian, “she is utterly worthless.”

“Then sell her,” said Julian.

Renata and Gerune exchanged frightened glances. They, too, could be sold on a whim.

The lip of the individual seated by Tuvo Ausonius, she in same garb, trembled.

Otto turned to Tuvo Ausonius. “You are he who was most abused by the impudence of this embonded slut,” he said. “What punishment do you recommend?”

The individual beside Tuvo Ausonius regarded him wildly, frightened.

“There are complicated circumstances involved,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “I would recommend lenience.”

Flora looked at him, wildly, gratefully.

“Show your gratitude,” said Otto.

Flora sprang to her feet and hurried to kneel before Tuvo Ausonius. She put down her head and covered his feet with kisses.

“Enough,” said Julian, clapping his hands. “Let us feast. Too, I have a surprise for you, my friend, Otto, later. But now, let us have food and drink.”

“Slaves, serve!” said Julian, and Renata and Gerune hurried to a buffet, on which were placed numerous delicate viands and rare, precious wines.

“Shall we withdraw?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.

“By all means, remain,” said Julian, “as you are both honored guests.”

Tuvo Ausonius and she in same garb, with him, looked at one another.

Renata and Gerune began to place food upon the table.

Both slaves were in brief slave tunics, and collars.

“We are still, I gather,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “under arrest.”

“Certainly,” said Julian.

“I do not think my life is worth much outside this holding,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“New identities might be arranged,” said Julian.

“My ultimate allegiance,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “is to the empire.”

“So, too, is mine,” said Julian.

Gerune placed a goblet before Tuvo Ausonius, and poured wine into it.