"Slut! Animal! Slave!" I cried.

"Yes, Master," she said, laughing.

She rose to her hands and knees and looked up at me, delighted. "I do not think you will resist me now," she laughed.

"Slave!" I cried, angrily.

"Yes, Master," she laughed.

I then, to her horror, strode to the side of the lodge and picked up the kaiila quirt which lay there.

"Please no!" she said, frightened. "Do not whip me!"

But I laid the quir to her well, five times, first striking her from her hands and knees to the robes, and then, as she twisted and rolled, helpless to avoid the blows, lashed her upon them.

"You wanted to be punished," I said.

"I did not want the punishment of the whip!" she wept.

"You will take what punishment your master decides to give you," I said.

"Yes, Master," she wept, her body marked, at my feet.

"On your back," I snapped. "Make slave lips. Throw apart your legs!"

Swiftly the girl complied, tears in her eyes. She then lay there, her lips pursed to kiss, her ankles widely spread.

I looked down at her. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes.

A girl who is commanded to make slave lips, or who receives the command, "Slave lips," must form her mouth for kissing. She then, commonly, is not permitted to break this lip position until either she kisses or is kissed. Needless to say, a girl cannot speak when her lips are in the unbroken, fully-pursed slave-lips position. The command which commonly followes the «Slave-lips» command is, "Please me."

I threw the quirt down beside the girl. She looked at it, there, gratefully. No longer was it in my hand. To be sure, it was where I might easily seize it up.

I then crouched beside her and lifted her to a half-sitting position. She closed her legs somewhat. I then kissed her, and this permitted her to break the slave-lips position.

"I do not think you will now hesitate to have me," she said.

"I do not think so," I said.

"It will be a great indignity for me, a great punishment, to be had by you," she said, "for you, too, are only a slave."

"Doubtless," I said.

"Following the instructions of my master, Canka," she said. "I am to yeild to you, fully, irreservedly, as a slave to her master."

"Yes," I said.

"I am to hold nothing back."

"No," I said.

"But even were I not under such commands," she said, "I know I could not help but yield to you. I have felt your hands before. I know that you can, if it pleases you, make me cry myself your slave."

"Perhaps," I said. I had handled this slave before. We both knew what I could do to her.

"I am ready," she said. "Please being my punishment."

"Very well," I said.

She lay back, softly, in my arms. "That was a splendid punishment," she said, "Master."

I said nothing. To be sure, I had enjoyed administering it to her. It was pleasant to take a woman and reduce her to a cringing, cuffed, orgasmic slave.

"I am yours for the afternoon," she said.

"That is true," I said.

"It is still early," she said.

I doubted that it was that early. Still the cooking fires had not yet been lit for the evening meal.

"Master," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Punish me again," she wheeled, putting a finger on my shoulder, and then kissing me, "-please."

"Do you beg it?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "I beg to be punished again."

"Very well," I said. I took her and threw her again beneath me. She cried out with delight.

"I love my master, Canka," she said.

"I know," I said.

"I want to fully pleasing to him."

"You had better be," I said.

"That is true," she laughed. "It is strange," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"I am Canka's slave," she said. "Yet, I love him so nuch that even if I were not his slave, I would want to be his slave."

"Interesting," I said.

"I am only his enamored slave," she said.

"I know," I said.

"Do you want to know something?" she said.

"Surely," I said.

"Love," she said, "puts any woman in bondage, and the more deeply she is in love, the more deeply she is plunged into bondage."

"Perhaps," I said.

"I think it is true," she said.

"Perhaps you are right," I said. "I do not know."

"But if this is true," she said, "it would seem to follow that no woman could be truly in love who is is not a female slave."

"What follows, I think," I said, "is that any woman deeply and truly in love is, in effect, a female slave."

"Imagine, then," she breathed, "the loved that might be felt by an actual female slave, a woman acually owned, for her master. How helplessly she would be his!"

"Bondage," I said, "with its ownership and domination of the woman, is a soil in which it is natural for love to blossom."

"I know that that is true," she said.

"And the bondage of chains is then, not unoften, succeeded by the bondage of love."

"And think how deep is the bondage of the female slave," said the girl, "whose bondage is the bondage of both chains and love."

"Yes," I said. Her bondage was indeed the deepest bondage in which a human female could conceive of her self being placed, being only, strictly, the property of her beloved master.

"Do you know something else?" she asked.

"What?" I asked.

"You are my friend," she said.

"Beware that you are not quirted, a hundred strokes," I said.

"You are my friend," she said. "I know that it is true."

I did not bother responding to her. How preposterous was the girl's conjecture. Did she not know she was naught but a female slave?

"Can masters and slaves be friends?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "But the girl, of course, is always to be kept in the perfection of her slavery."

"Of course," she said. "Master," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"I love Canka," she said. "But I displeased him. What if he doesn't want me any longer? What if he sells me or gives me away?"

"I do not think he will do that," I said.

"How am I to act when I return to his lodge?" she asked. "What am I to do?"

"You are a slave," I said. "Be loving, obedient and pleasing, fully."

"I shall try," she said.

I then explained to her what she might do upon her return to the lodge of Canka.

"Oh, yes," she whispered. "Yes!"

It would be important for her to convince him that she had learned something from her travials of the day.

"I smell cooking fires," she said, happily. She made as though to rise, but I thrust her, roughly, back down on the robes. "Master?" she asked.

"You are eager to return to the lodge of your master," I observed.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"But until I choose, within reason, to relinquish you," I said, "you are still to me as my slave, are you not?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Well," I said, "I do not choose, at this moment, to relinquish you."

"Please, Master," she wept.

"You are nude, and attractive," I said. "I am going to have you again now, and at my leisure."

"Please, Master!" she protested.

"Do you object?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said, frightened.

"And how will you yield to me?" I asked.

"With perfection," she said, "as my master ordered." She looked at me, and laughed. "You brute," she said. "You know you will make me yield with perfection, whether I wished to or not!"

"Perhaps," I said.

"Modest tarsk!" she laughed. "Oh!" she cried. "Oh! Oh!"

"It seems to be true," I said.

"Yes," she said, "yes!"

"You will, further," I said, "utter low-volume sounds, indicative of arousal."

"Yes," she said. "Yes."

This device, forcing the slave to furnish an audible analogue or correlate for her sensations, has three principal utilities.

It helps to inensify the slave's responses, she responding in part to, and being in part aroused by, her own sounds of arousal. Secondly, the sounds, her helpless moans and cries, her whimpers, her sighs, her gasps, please, and can be stimulatory to, the master. Thirdly, the sounds aid him in his management and control of her. By means of them he can, in effect, map her beauty, guiding himself in his ownership of her, detecting the zones of her greatest sexual helplessness and, by varying the nature of his rhythms and touches, how they can be most effeciently and brilliantly expolited, the end in view, of course, being to produce the most yielding and orgasmically helpless slave possible.