Lola then took the first male slave in her arms. She looked up at him. "I am your slave, Master," she said. She then kissed him. "I love you, Master," she said. Then she kissed him again.

"Excellent, Lola," said the Lady Gina. Two of the woman slavers laughed. One of them, with a marking stick, made a notation on a paper she carried. It was clipped on a board.

"Proceed to the next," said the Lady Gina.

Lola, obedient, frightened, proceeded to the next slave. It was a great shame, I knew, for a female slave to even have to touch a male slave, let alone to perform such an act as to address him as master. Female slaves despise male slaves. They regard themselves, and correctly, I suppose, as the rightful property only of free men and women, masters and mistresses.

At last Lola stood before me. Her eyes were filled with tears. She almost choked. "Not him, please, Mistress!" she begged.

"You have hesitated in the performance of your duties, Lola," said the Lady Gina.

Swiftly Lola put her arms about me. Then, suddenly, for an instant, she held me tightly. I had then felt her body, for the instant, spasmodically move against mine. Her cheek was against my chest. "Interesting," said one of the woman slavers. "I think the little slut should be whipped," said another. "Have no fear," said the Lady Gina. "She will be punished." Lola drew back a little. She trembled. I could still feel her body, sweet in its trembling, against mine. She looked up at me. There were tears in her eyes.

"Proceed, Lola," said the Lady Gina.

"With so despicable a slave, Mistress?" asked Lola.

"Proceed, Lola," said the Lady Gina.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl. She then, again, held me more closely. Again she lifted her eyes to mine. "Look at the little slut," said one of the women. "She is excited." "Filthy little slave slut," said another. Lola was stark naked, save for her collar. She was barefoot on the tiles. "I am your slave, Master," she whispered to me. I felt her belly against me, and her breasts. She was the sort of woman a man of Earth would scarcely have dared to let enter his dreams. I recalled that she had once been forced to lie naked before me as a slave girl. I must resist her! Then the hot, sensual, naked, collared she of her pressed to me. I felt her lips on mine, and she kissed me, with the liquid, melting, indescribable kiss of the slave girl, the owned woman. "I love you, Master," she whispered. "Aiii!" cried one of the women. I cried out with misery. The women laughed. "That one is alive!" laughed one of them. "Are you sure he is from Earth, the slave world?" asked another. "It will be a lucky mistress who gets him," said another. I looked at the women, wretchedly, shamed. I looked at the woman with the marking stick and the paper, clipped to its board. She looked at me and laughed. I saw the marking stick move, as she made a notation on her record.

"Do not put your clothing on, Lola," said the Lady Gina. "Go directly to your kennel. You will hear from me later."

"Yes, Mistress," said Lola. Then she looked at me. "I hate you, Slave!" she cried. "Slave!"

"Run, Lola," said the Lady Gina.

"Yes, Mistress," said Lola, and fled from the room.

"What a slut she is," said one of them, "to be excited by a mere male slave."

"Yes," said another.

"Let us retire to a more comfortable room," said the Lady Gina, "and discuss the slaves."

The Lady Gina then left the room, followed by most of the women slavers. One of them remained for a moment, looking at me. It was she who had most closely examined me, she who had worn, beneath her silken sleeve, the metal-studded, black-leather wristlet.

"Are you coming, Lady Tuna?" asked one of the women, pausing at the door.

"Yes," said the woman regarding me. Then she turned and, with the other woman, who waited for her, left the room.

I sat alone in my cell. I now sat on a heavy bench, some five feet in length, before a stout, rectangular table. These things had been put in the cell for me. I wore a light, repcloth slave tunic. On the floor, on straw, was a blanket which I had been given. Though the cell door was locked, I was not chained. On the table was a bowl of cheap wine, some wedges of yellow bread and a wooden bowl containing vegetables and chunks of meat.

Today I had been appraised.

I was still furious with the shame of it. I was not a woman! Then I smiled to myself. The thought had been almost Gorean. I reminded myself I was a man of Earth. How shameful, too, must be such an ordeal for a woman. How piteous it was that such fair beauties should be enslaved for the pleasures of masters.

I wished I owned one. Then, of course, I thrust the thought from my mind.

I chewed on a piece of meat and drank from the shallow, chipped bowl of clay which contained the wine.

My thoughts were mixed and troubled. Today I had been appraised. I was confident, now, that I would not be kept much longer in the pens. But I did not even know the location of the pens. I did not even know the city in which I was kept. Curiosity, I had been told, was not becoming in a slave. I smiled to myself. How faraway seemed Earth now with its pettiness and vanity. I was not even, for some reason, miserable that I had been brought to Gor. I did not understand, clearly, why this should be. Surely my condition was shameful, and I had much to fear. Surely, in many ways, it was a horrifying world to which I had been brought. I remembered the sleen. I had felt the whip. Yet I was not, truly, unhappy. Earth had been a country of pollutions and poisons. The very air men breathed there, the very food they ate, contained recognized, but, incredibly, not removed, toxic elements. It was impossible, really, to do anything about such things, I had gathered. What an incredible world Earth was. Could it not understand that the environmental criminal was far more dangerous than.the lonely madman or assassin, that his crime affected not isolated, tragic victims but communities, a planet, unborn generations. Was his profit so sacred, truly? Was it truly more precious than lives, and the future? The men of Earth congratulated themselves smugly on the power of their democracies, in which the people, purportedly, ruled. But if the people, truly, ruled, why and how could their planet's processes proceed in such obvious ways inimical to their welfare? How could their world be so miserable for the people if they were truly kings within it? But perhaps they were not kings within it. Perhaps they have only been told they are kings, and.that satisfies them. Who, I wondered, were the true kings? Or, perhaps there were no kings, truly, only the madness of the untended machine.

I rose from the bench and walked about the cell. I felt one of the damp walls. I was grateful for the blanket I now had. I went and felt the heavy bars, with the lateral crosspieces, which formed one side of the cell. I gripped them. I was well confined within. I went back to the table. I was a prisoner and a slave. I even wore a steel collar. Yet I was not overly discontent. I was eager to sae this world to which I, a man of Earth, had been brought as a mere slave. It was my hope that if I obeyed my masters or mistresses, and well pleased them; I might be permitted to live.

Why was I not more miserable than I was that I had been brought to Gor? I pondered this. Because of the diet and exercise, enforced on me in the pens, I was now healthier and stronger than I had ever been. Perhaps this had something to do with my feelings. Such homely simplicities as diet, rest and exercise can often work wonders for one's outlook. Too, I was looking forward to the adventures of a new world, even though it might be one in which I was only a slave. I laughed. Perhaps the matter was so simple as even the water and air of Gor, so fresh and pure, so stimulating, compared to that of Earth, even in the depths of the pens.