"I wished to avoid the imminent and obvious fate of the debutante," she said,"to be bartered, for position and power on the marriage market."

"This was the occasion, doubtless, in which your aunt expressed her view thatsuch, in effect, was all you were good for."

"Yes!" she said. "Oh!" she said.

"You have lovely curves," I said.

"Are you warming me for my taking?" she asked.

"They would bring a high price," I said.

She moaned.

"Your aunt," I said, "surely had a very limited conception of your utilities. Itprobably never even entered her ken, for example, that you might one day be ascantily clad, branded slave."

"Master?" asked the girl.

"On the other hand," I said, "she knew you very well, and, in some way, may havebeen touching on something of importance."

"I do not understand," said the girl.

"I do not mean to insult you, a girl from Earth," I said, "but you an obviouslyextremely feminine. You have, doubtless, a large number of female hormones inyour body."

"Master?" she asked.

"Your aunt was then, perhaps, trying to convey to you that your most congenialand appropriate destiny, what might be best for you, what might be most naturalfor you, would be for you to find yourself naked in the arms of a man."

"As little more than a slaver she asked.

"As perhaps no more than a slave," I said.

"I cannot help it that I have a feminine face, that I have feminine body," shesaid. "I cannot help it that I am feminine nine" Why would you want to help it?" I asked.

"It is wrong to be feminine!" she said.

"That is obviously false," I said. "What is your next point?"

"I know that I am feminine," she wept. "I have known for years, from my desiresand feelings, even from before the interior truths of my reality manifestedthemselves so unmistakably, so unrepudiably, in my body, shaping and curving mefor the destiny of the female, and for the lustful, appraising eyes of men."

I regarded her, not speaking.

"I am afraid to be feminine!" she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because," she wept, "I sense that it is, ultimately, to be the slave of men."

"You desired to prove your aunt wrong," I said.

"Yes," she said. "I would prove that I was independent, that I was capable, thatI could achieve success on my own. My talents would be obvious. I would be hiredpromptly. I would be rapidly advanced. I would become a female executive. Thatwould show my aunt! That would show myself! That would show men!"

"What happened?" I asked.

"I took money and left home," she said. "I scarcely informed my family as to mydecision or whereabouts. I went to a great city. It is called New York. I rentedexpensive quarters. Confidently, I sought a significant position business."

"And then?" I asked.

"Alas," she said, ruefully, "I found my credentials sorely lacking. I could findno work of the sort in which I was interested.»

"I see," I said.

"After weeks of misery and frustration," she said, "I contacted my family. Aposition was immediately arranged for me.

"I see," I said.

"It was not, however, at all, what I had hoped for," she said. "I became, ineffect, the secretary to a female executive, her "girl' in the office. She tookcharge of me and, in effect, prescribed my mode of dress and behavior."

"It was largely due to her, then," I said, "that you wore the attractivegarments you did, when you were stripped for the buyers at the house of RamSeibar?"

"Yes," she said, "and she even prescribed that the pearls I wore must besynthetic, as being more befitting than real pearls a girl in my position."

"I see," I said. "Did you protest this?"

"I did not wish to lose my job," she said.

"I see," I said. I was pleased to learn that she had not worn the false pearlsof her own volition. That would surely mitigate her culpability in the matter,at least to some extent, in Gorean eyes. She had, of course, agreed to wearthem. That they might regard as important. That agreement, of course, had beenformed, in a sense, under duress. The Goreans, on the whole a fair folk, woulddoubtless take that into consideration. The degree of duress might be regardedas significant. The matter was surely subtle. Grunt, in any case, as I knew him,would not be interested in punishing her for that action, as it had taken placewhen she was free. That life was behind her now. Her whippings, now, doubtless,would be functions of such things as whether or not she was sufficientlypleasing as a female slave. Still, I would inform Grunt of this development. Hewould find it of interest. Masters find almost everything about their slaves ofinterest. Too, it would please him.

"And so," she said, "I continued to run her errands, to answer her telephone ina pretty voice, to do her biding, to bring her her coffee, to address herdeferentially, to smile at her clients and walk in a certain way past them."

"I understand," I said.

"Doubtless she enjoyed having me do this," she said, bitterly, "my station insociety having been so superior to hers."

"Perhaps," I said. "I do not know."

"It was to be made clear to all her colleagues," she said, angrily, "that I wasonly a girl, fit for lowly labors and being pleasing to her superiors. Clearly Iwas a different sort of woman from her! ' "Perhaps you were," I said.

"Dressed as I was, forced to behave as I was," she said, "how could men see meas executive material?"

"Doubtless it would be difficult," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"You are very feminine," I said, "perhaps you are not executive material."

She squirmed, angrily.

"She well used my femininity, my meaninglessness, MY prettiness," she said, "tohighlight, to point up and accentuate, by contrast, her own quite differentimage, that of strength and competence, of decisiveness, of command, ofauthority and power."

I have seen such women naked," I said, "in a collar, kissing the feet of men."

"Oh?" she said.

"But they are not so beautiful as you," I said.

She was silent.

"Do you feel that your treatment by her was motivated by some insecurity on herpart, by fear for her position or status, that she may have seen you as athreat?"

The girl was silent for a moment. Then she said, "No, I do not think so."

"That is interesting," I said.

"I could not have begun to compete with her," she said.

"You were not that sort of woman," I said.

"No," she said.

"Do you think she disliked you, or hated you?" I asked.

"I don't think so, really," she said, slowly.

"Can you conceive it possible that she may have seen you rather more as youwere, than as you saw yourself?"

"Master?" she asked.

"She may have dressed you as she did," I said, "and treated you as she did, andmade you do the things you did, for a very good reason."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you are feminine," I said.

She was angrily silent.

"Did you enjoy doing the things you were told?" I asked. "Did you enjoyobeying?"

"Sometimes," she whispered.

"Did you object, truly, to the clothing you were expected to wear?" I asked.

"No," she said, "not truly. I like pretty clothes, and the, eyes of men on me."

"As a Gorean slave girl," I said, "you will often find the eyes of men on you,though whether or not you will be permitted clothing will be a function of thedecision of your master."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"How were you taken?" I asked.

"After work," she said. "It was dark. I was driving back to my building. Istopped at a red light. Suddenly, to my horror, a narrow chain was looped aboutmy throat. "Drive as I direct, said a male voice, from behind me. I could notscream. The chain was tight. I was terrified. He had been hidden in the car,behind the back seat. He tightened the chain a quarter of an inch. I could notbreathe. I realized he could, if he wished, strangle me in an instant. A carhonked behind us. "The light has changed, be said. He relaxed the chain,slightly. "Continue on this street, he said, "in the outside lane, at a speednot exceeding twenty-five miles an hour. I pulled away from the intersection.