"Do you understand now, just a little, what it might be to be a slave on Gor?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Get on your hands and knees," she said.

I did so.

One of the men, the strong fellow with brown, shaggy hair, said something to her. She laughed, and shook her head. They exchanged a remark or two, and then the two men, the fellow with brown, shaggy hair and the other man, the large Oriental fellow, turned about and left.

"He was asking," she said, "if I wished him to accompany me back to the cell." She hung the whip on her belt, folding back its blades. There was a small ring on the butt end of the whip which fitted over a hook on the belt. The blades of the whip fitted under a clip, also on the belt. She turned the collar on my throat, so that the metal attachment, or ring, was at the back. "I told him it would not be necessary," she said. She unslung the metal chain from her belt. "I told him you were tame," she said. She then snapped the chain on the collar. She jerked it. I was on my hands and knees, leashed. "You are tamed, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Come along now," she said. "We are returning to the cell."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Kneel here," she said.

I knelt where she indicated. She took the shackles from the rear ring and snapped them on my ankles.

She came around in front of me, and crouched down. "Put your wrists here," she said.

I put my wrists where she had indicated and she snapped them into the waiting manacles, those attached to the forward ring. She had already removed the chain leash from my collar and, coiling it, slung it on her belt.

I then knelt chained before her. I was again in my cell. Again my ankles were shackled to a ring. Again my wrists were manacled to the forward ring. Things were much as they had been before, before she had called the men to fetch me forth from the cell. There was, however, one important difference. Before there had knelt on that spot a free man in chains. There knelt there now only a chained slave.

She stood up and backed away a bit, and stood there, regarding me.

"You will commonly," she said, not unkindly, "when kneeling before a free woman, keep your knees spread, unless your lady wishes otherwise."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"That is right," she said. "I find that good. But remember, the whim of the Mistress is everything."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"You are, as far as I know," she said, "the first male of Earth brought to Gor as a slave."

"It is an accident that I am here," I said. "I fell across the path of slavers. Please send me back to Earth."

"Be silent, Slave," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

She walked around behind me, where I could not see her.

"I was once, for a time, on your planet," she said.

"Oh?" I said.

I heard a very tiny sound, almost inaudible, metallic.

"Did you hear that sound?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"It is the sound of the whip being removed from my belt," she said.

I said nothing.

"You will learn to know it well," she said. "Yes," she said, "a year and a half ago, in the service of my superiors, I spent several months on your world. Are you afraid you are going to be lashed?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"It was there," she said, "that I learned the nature of the males of Earth, and to despise them."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

I heard a tiny sound again, very similar to the first.

"I have replaced the whip on my belt," she said. Then she came again in front of me, where she might look down on me. The whip hung again at her belt.

"I'm not going to whip you now," she said.

"Thank you, Mistress," I said.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Jason," I said. "Jason Marshall."

"You have no name," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"But `Jason' will do," she said. "You are Jason."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"The name is now a slave name," she said, "put on you because it pleases me."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. I was now a named slave.

She went to the side of the cell. There, on a shelf, were two shallow pans. They had been there before. She carried one of them over to me. It contained, as I now saw, pieces of meat. She held the pan in her left hand and, with her right hand, picked out a piece of meat.

She looked down at me.

"The transition to slavery will be easier for you than for a true man," she said, "but it will still, doubtless, not be easy for you."

I looked up at her, miserably.

"Feed, Jason," she said, putting the piece of meat in my mouth.

"I have been to Earth," she said. "I have seen the males there. There are so few men among them. Is it so hard, I wonder, to be a man. Why is it that so many of the males of Earth have given up their manhood, and pretend to rejoice in their mutilation. Doubtless there are complex historical causes. It is interesting, the grotesque shapes into which culture can shape a tortured biology."

As she spoke, she continued to feed me.

"But I feel no pity for you sorry males of Earth," she said, "for you have permitted this to be done to you. What despicable weaklings and cowards you are. You have little left to you but the vestiges of your manhood, and you let even those, bit by bit, be taken from you."

She thrust another piece of meat in my mouth.

"Poor, pretty Jason," she said. "He does not know what to think." She smiled at me. "I will tell you a secret, Jason," she said, "you were a slave before, but did not know it. You were the slave of a culture, of values, of propaganda and women. Your chains were invisible, so you pretended they did not exist. But did you not, nonetheless, feel their weight? Are things so different here than there for you? There is, surely, little true difference. The whips here, of course, are of real leather, and the chains of honest iron. When you feel them you need not pretend they are something other than what they are." She stopped feeding me. "They are precisely what they seem," she said, "true leather and iron. And you are precisely what you seem to be, a slave."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, miserably.

She then put the pan of meat down on the stones, where I might reach it. She then went back to the shelf and brought the other pan to where I knelt. She placed it within my reach, on the stones. It contained water.

"Put your head down and drink," she said. "Do not use your hands."

I put my head down and drank.

"Stop," she said.

I stopped

She then, with her foot, white in that high, bootlike, thonged sandal, slid both the pan of meat and the pan of water out of my reach.

"The slave is completely dependent on the master or mistress," she said, "even for food and drink."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

She then, again, with her foot, slid the pan of meat and the pan of water to where I might reach them.

"Say `Thank you, Mistress,'" she said.

"Thank you, Mistress," I said.

"Put your head down again, and drink," she said.

Again I put my head down and, frightened, drank.

"Oh," she said, "how I despise you, and how I shall enjoy working with you."

I trembled.

"Look up, Jason," she said.

I looked up.

"Look into my eyes," she said.

I did so. It was difficult to meet her gaze.

"Who is stronger?" she asked.

"You, Mistress," I said. I had never encountered such inflexible resolve in a human being. I knew I could not begin to match the power and strength of her will, her stern character. I could only bend helplessly before it. She was totally superior to me. She was mistress; I was slave.

"Do I frighten you, Jason?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"You need only try to be totally pleasing," she said. "You will then, to some extent, improve your chances for life."