I danced out, only the porch, overlooking the city, the lights. I now saw that some of the lights, indeed, were on the distant walls of the city. They were beacons. Their primary purpose is to guide in the warriors, mounted on the gigantic saddlebirds, to enable them to safely negotiate the defenses of stakes and wire on the walls. The stars were very beautiful. I looked up and gasped, for then, for the first time, I saw the three moons. I had learned there were three moons here but this was the first time I had seen them.One does not see the moons in the pens, or in the depths, and, if they were visible, I had not noticed them during the light of the day.
“Return, slave,” I heard.
I swiftly whirled about, and re-entered the room there were three moons here! But then, in a moment, I was, again, before he upon the divan.
He lifted his finger and the music stopped, and I, too, stopped.
There is one aspect to slave dance to which I have neglected to call explicit attention, but it is one which, I suspect, at least implicitly, is clear to all. Slave dance is arousing to the female who dances it. Once cannot move as in slave dance without becoming sexually aroused. In this sense, twofold effect occurs when we dance before masters. One has not only an arousal display but an arousal activity. And there is a reciprocal, mutually reinforcing, interaction between these things, as one understands that one is arousing, and he understands that you are also being aroused, and you know that he understands this, and so on. Indeed, slave dance can function as a cure for frigidity. It relieves inhibitions, improves confidence, and, I suppose, to some extent, literally stirs and stimulates organs. It is difficult for a body which has been trained in slave dance, for example, to be stiff and unresponsive. To be sure, there are many cures for frigidity. An obvious one is the condition of bondage itself. Another is the whip, and switch.
“Remove your upper silk,” he said.
I undid the halter, and slipped it away.
I saw that I would, indeed, dance as an Earth-girl slave before her Gorean master.
For a time I danced in this fashion, and then, again, he lifted his finger and the music stopped, and, I too, stopped.
I looked at the remains of the food on the low table. I was very hungry.
“Remove your silk,” said he, “Earth woman.”
My hands went to the hip band and undid the clasp there. I lifted the silk to the side. I dropped it to the tiles.
He indicated to the musicians that they should again play. This time, doubtless in virtue of some arrangement with, or signal conveyed to, the musicians, it was an extreme adagio melody to which I must move. I remained in place, so dancing, almost without movement.
He picked up the whip, and walked about me, scrutinizing the slave.
I was terribly afraid I would be struck.
Then he was again before me, back some five feet or so, that he might have an excellent view.
The whip, coiled, was in his right hand.
“Do the women of your world often dance thusly, naked before their males?” he asked.
“I do not know, Master,” I said.
“Doubtless they will have them dance thusly, for they are men,” he mused.
I was silent.
“And do they whip the women if they are not pleasing?” he asked.
“I do not know, Master,” I said.
“You seem to know very little of your world,” he said.
“It is very different from this world, Master,” I said.
“But you know that you will be whipped, here on this world, Earth woman, if you are not pleasing, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master!” I said.
With a motion of his wrist he flicked out the blade of the whip, uncoiling it. He observed it. The end of the blade, snakelike, narrow and tapering, was upon the tiles. He then, with another movement of his wrist, lifted it from the tiles.
“Please, do not whip me, Master,” I begged. “I will try to be pleasing!”
“I am sure you will,” said he, “Earth woman.”
He then returned to the divan, and reclined thereupon. He indicated to the musicians that they might increase the tempo, which they did.
I danced.
How helpless we are!
How these men master us!
I wore my collar. It was narrow, close-fitting, locked. It was a state collar. On it was my name, that name which had been given to me, ‘Janice’. I had been a free woman of Earth. I had then been brought to this world. I was now only a slave.
I danced.
How incredibly free and female I felt.
I danced.
I had been sent to his quarters.
I danced before him.
I wondered how I looked to him. I hoped desperately that he might find me pleasing. I wondered how women such as I looked to males. Well, I conjectured, in our collars, obeying, hoping to please, striving desperately to please. How exciting, how glorious, how joyful, how real, how meaningful it must be to be a male on a world such as this, I thought, a world in which they had such power, at least over such as I. Here, you see, they had kept their mastery, in the order of nature. Here males were men, and here females, at least those such as I, could only be women, their women. How was it, I wondered, that these men had never relinquished their nature, that they had never surrendered their manhood, that they had never betrayed their blood, that they had never permitted themselves to be diminished and reduced, destroyed and crippled? I did not know. But they had not. Did they sense the danger we might pose to them, if they were weak, or permissive, or lenient? Was that why they were as they were? Was that why they put us in collars and kept us at their feet, because they knew us so well? But how could we be women if they were not men? Or had they profited from some hideous illustration of nature gone awry, from the dismal instruction of some tragic lesson, from the clear example of some pathological mistake, one they would simply not permit to occur in their won world? Or, perhaps, it was merely that this world had developed as it had, drawing strength and meaning from nature, rather than trying to live, dry and rootless, apart from her? But, as I danced before him, I did not think merely how exciting, how glorious, how joyful, how real, how meaningful it must be to be a male on this world but also, despite its dangers, its terrors, how exciting, how glorious, how joyful, how real, how meaningful it was to be a woman on this world! I had never begun to feel so fulfilled on my old world as I had here. It was only on this world, it seemed, that I had, in my small, lowly way, begun to feel fully meaningful. It was here that someone, deeper and more real than names, had found herself.
I knew who she was.
It was fully fitting that she danced as she did, before such a man. It was not merely he who knew this, you see. It was I, as well.
“To the floor,” said he, “Earth woman.”
The Earth woman then, to the music, slowly and gracefully lowered herself to the floor, and there, to those sensuous strains, speaking so unabashedly to the blood of men and women, continued her dance.
He clapped his hands, ending the music.
I rose to all fours, before hi, on the glossy tiles.
“You are not now closely silked,” he said.
So I knelt now before him, my back straight, my head down, the palms of my hands down on my thighs, my knees properly, widely spread.
I heard him speak to the musicians. I head the clinking of what was doubtless a small sack of coins. One by one the three musicians left. One said, “A pretty slave.” Another said, “Yes,” He before whom I had performed said, “She has much to learn.” “Doubtless she will be well taught,” said the leader of the musicians.