Free Kajira of Gor by John Norman Page B

Drink more delicately.”
    I drank from the bowl.
    “Yes, Mistress,” she said. “That is more feminine.” I then realized, even more
    profoundly than before, bow deeply sexuality must characterize and penetrate
    this culture. The differences between men and women were to be expressed even in
    their smallest behaviors. What a significant and real thing it is in this
    culture to be a man or a woman.
    “This is warmed chocolate,” I said, pleased. It was very rich and creamy.
    “Yes, Mistress,” said the girl.
    “It is very good,” I said.
    “Thank you, Mistress,” she said.
    “Is it from Earth?” I asked.
    “Not directly,” she said. “Many things here, of course, ultimately have an Earth
    origin. It is not improbable that the beans from which the first cacao trees on
    this world were grown were brought from Earth.”
    “Do the trees grow near here?” I asked.
    “No, Mistress,” she said. “We obtain the beans, from which the chocolate is
    made, from Cosian merchants, who, in turn, obtain them in the tropics.”
    I put the chocolate down. I began to bite at the yellow bread. It was fresh.
    “Perhaps Mistress should take smaller bites,” she said.
    “Very well,” I said. I then began to eat as she had suggested. I was a woman. I
    was not an adolescent boy. Again, even in so small a thing as this, I began to
    feel my femininity keenly. Too, again, I became very sensitive of the depth and
    pervasiveness of the sexuality which might characterize this world. Men and
    women did not even eat in the same way.
    “Exceptions can occur under certain circumstances, of course,” said the girl.
    “Mistress might, for example, in the presence of a man she wishes to arouse,
    take a larger than normal bite from a fresh fruit, and look at the man over the
    fruit, letting juice, a tiny trickle of it, run at the side of her mouth.”
    “But why would I wish to arouse a man?” I asked.
    The girl looked at me, puzzled. “Perhaps the needs of Mistress might be much
    upon her,” she said. “Perhaps she might wish to be taken and overwhelmed in his
    arms, and forced to surrender to him.”
    “I do not understand,” I said, as though horrified.
    “That is because Mistress is free,” she said.
    I had understood only too well, of course. But I was terrified to even think
    such thoughts.
    “Slaves, I suppose, occasionally have recourse to such devices,” I said. I was
    eager to learn.
    “A device such as that with the fresh fruit,” she said, “is more appropriate to
    a free woman. We do have at our disposal, as slaves, however, a number and
    variety of begging signals, such things as groveling and moaning, and bringing
    bonds to him in our teeth, wherewith we may endeavor to call our needs to his
    attention.”
    “Begging signals?” I said.
    “We are at the complete mercy of our masters,” she said.
    “Are the masters then kind to you?” I asked.
    “Sometimes they consent to content us,” she said.
    “How horrifying to be a slave,” I said.
    “Yes, Mistress,” she said, putting her head down, smiling. I saw that, again,
    she was answering me in the fashion in which, doubtless, I wished to be
    answered, doubtless with deference to my dignity, status or freedom. Sorely then
    I envied her her collar. My feelings now began to alarm me. I decided that it
    would be safest to change the subject.
    “Where are the spaceships?” I asked.
    “Spaceships?” she asked.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “I do not know,” she said. “I have never even seen one.”
    “Oh,” I said.
    “Has Mistress?” she asked.
    “No,” I said. I gathered that Susan, like myself, had been brought to this world
    unconscious. We knew nothing, or almost nothing, of how we had come here.
    “The people of this world have very little evidence,” she said, “that such
    things even exist. The only evidence they have, for the most part, is that of
    certain objects brought from Earth.”
    “Objects?” I asked.
    “Yes,” she said.