The beauty looked at him, startled, puzzled, as though for an instant she could not believe what she had heard, that she had been dismissed. I thought that anger then, for just an instant, suffused her countenance but then, suddenly terrified, as though she might suddenly have realized the unacceptability of her reaction, she hurried over to the fellow Borton had indicted, to fling herself to her stomach before him, desperately and zealously licking and kissing at his feet. "You will be whipped tonight," Philebus assured her. "Yes, Master," she moaned. She had been slow to obey. The female slave is to obey instantly and unquestioningly.
"Thank you," I said to the other helper, taking a sausage from the plate.
"It serves her right!" whispered Temione.
"The lash?" I asked.
"Of course," she said. "She was slow."
The girl on her back, she stretched over the knees of the burly fellow, cried out, hot juice having fallen on her body from the joint of tarsk.
"Paga for all, from our host, the noble Borton!" called Philebus. Girls rushed about, serving. I put out my hand, keeping Temione in her place. "Master?" she asked. "You are serving me," I said.
Philebus unlocked even the holding collars on the neck chains of the girls at the post, that they, too, might participate in the serving. Swiftly, as soon as they were freed, they leaped up to do so. He glanced once at Temione, who moved, frightened, but he did not signal to her to rise. Clearly she was with me.
I took a piece of bread from the platter of the second assistant, as he came by again. "Thank you," I said. Had Marcus been with me he, too, might have obtained a free supper.
The burly fellow had now had what he wanted from the joint of tarsk and had thrown its residue to friend a few feet away. He wiped his hands on the body of the slave across his knees.
"What a brute he is!" exclaimed Temione, softly.
"But a skillful one, it seems," I said.
The girl across the burly fellow's knees squirmed and made small sounds. She could now no longer control her body.
"What a crude, brutish fellow he is!" said Temione, angrily. "Are you angry," I asked, "that it is not you who are in his power?"
"A toast to Borton the noble, Borton the generous!" called a fellow, rising unsteadily.
"A toast, a toast!" called others.
I joined, too, in this toast. It pleased me to do so.
I saw that Temione could not take her eyes off the bearded fellow. Long ago, Temione, like Amina, Klio, Elene, Rimice and Liomache, had been one of those women who makes her living off men. She, like the others, however, when I had met her, probably due to the war, the scarcity of genteel travelers, the crowds of impoverished refugees, the high prices, and so on, had fallen on hard times. Their bills unpaid, and their evasions not satisfying the inn's attendants, they had been taken, ropes on their necks, before the keeper. He had put them on a bench in a wheeled cage, honorably clothed, near the checkout desk, where they might importune men to pay their bills. This proving unavailing he had had them stripped and searched by powerful free women and then returned to the cage, on the bench much as before, though now unclothed and absolutely coinless. Later he had had them taken from the cage and ankle-tied, on their knees, near the checkout desk, their hands freed that they might the more piteously and meaningfully supplicate guests of the inn. At the seventeenth Ahn the keeper, perhaps tiring of their presence near his desk, and despairing of them being immediately redeemed, had had them cleared away. For the first time in their lives they had then worn chains. In particular, I had met the former Lady Temione, of Cos, in the Paga Room, where, naked, and shackled, she had served as my waitress. It had been in the Paga Room, too, that she had first made the acquaintance of the fellow I now knew as Borton. He had cruelly scorned her, as she was free, and refused even, and in rage, to be served by her. "Bring me a woman!" he had cried. "Bring me a woman!" This had been a great blow to her vanity, her self-esteem and pride, as she, like most free women had regarded herself as some sort of marvelous prize. Then, in effect, she had found herself, by this magnificent brute of a male, a warrior, doubtless a superb and practiced judge of female flesh, for such commonly frequent the markets, rejected as a woman, flung aside with contempt. She had even watched him, later in the Paga Room, with fascination and horror, and, I think, with jealous envy, use a slave, skillfully, lengthily, exultantly and with authority. There had been little doubt about the slave's superiority to her. That night, after I had left the Paga Room, I had arranged for the Lady Temione to be brought to the space I had rented. It seemed to me that she might be able to use some reassurance as to her femininity, even if she was a mere free woman. Also I had noted that she had been much aroused by the brute's uncompromising mastery of the slave. Why should I not capitalize on that? Too, I had wanted her, and she was cheap. She would serve to relieve my tensions, if nothing else. It had pleased me to put her through some paces, mostly suitable for a free woman, though, to be sure, one who is a debtor slut. As luck would have it, given our late arrivals at the inn, Borton and I had been rented nearby spaces. In this way, the Lady Temione had come once more to his attention. He had been somewhat rude to her, as I recall, referring to her as fat, stupid, a she-tarsk and not worth sleen feed. To be sure she was then only a free woman. He had also requested me, as I recalled, to remove her from his presence. "Get that thing out of my sight," was the way he put it, I think. I thought him somewhat rude. Fortunately the keeper's man arrived in time to prevent an altercation. After the keeper's man had shouldered the Lady Temione and carried her off, head to the back, as slave is commonly carried, presumably to a chaining ring or kennel for the night, I had not seen her until she, with others, blindfolded, were kneeling before me, naked and in coffle, in the camp of Cos, not far from Ar's Station. When women are not redeemed from an inn, or such, they are commonly disposed of to slavers. When one pays the redemption fees, of course, the woman is yours, to do with as you please. For example, you may free her, or, if you wish, sell her, or make her your slave. Before the arrival of the keeper's man the burly fellow had much scorned and abused Lady Temione, intimidating and terrifying her. He had even had her, though she was free, use the word «Master» to him. This had startled myself and Ephialtes, who had been present, and perhaps the woman, as well. It was apparently the first time she had ever used the word «Master» to a man. I looked now at Temione, the slave. I suddenly realized she had never forgotten the burly fellow. She was looking at him. Yes, doubtless, he was the first man to whom she had ever addressed the word "Master."
The burly fellow now permitted the trembling, gasping woman across his knees some surcease of his attentions. He quaffed paga. She then arched her body, lifting it up to him, piteously, pleadingly, moaning. "Lie still," he said to her. "Yes, Master," she wept. He brushed back the other woman, too, who lay beside him, as she tried, with her lips and tongue, to call herself to his attention, to importune him. I did not think either of those women would have to be kept again in the tiny cages, unless perhaps for punishment or to amuse the master. They were both now, obviously, ready to serve men.
"Let slaves present themselves!" called the fellow, lifting his vessel of paga.
"The parade of slaves!" called a man. "The parade of slaves!"
"Yes, yes!" called others.
The "parade of slaves," as it is sometimes called, commonly takes place in venues such as paga taverns and brothels. It may also, of course, take place elsewhere, for example, in the houses of rich men, at dinners, banquets, and so on. It is a presentation of beauty and attractions. The slaves present themselves, usually one by one, often to the accompaniment of music, for the inspection of the guests. It is in some ways not unlike certain fashion shows of Earth, except, of course, that its object is generally not to merchandise slave wear, though it can have such a purpose, but to present the goods of the house, so to speak, for perusal. Whereas in the common fashion show of Earth the woman considers the clothing and the man considers the women, and the women serve the ulterior purposes of the designer, in the parade of slaves there are generally no free women present, and the men, openly, lustily, consider the beauty of the women, as it was meant by nature to be considered, as that of slaves, and the women serve the ulterior purposes not of a designer, but of a master, who will, in the event of their selection, collect their rent fees, or such. To be sure, the women serve themselves, too, but not in the trivial sense of obtaining money, but in the more profound senses, psychological and biological, of expressing and fulfilling their nature. To be sure, the women must fear, for they may be taken out of themselves, so to speak, and forced helplessly into ecstasy.