Free Mariners of Gor by John Norman Page B

fellow who had spoken to me had not been more careful, or more suspicious. It seems he had, without a second thought, taken me as a slave. I found this incomprehensible, and annoying, but I was grateful that he been so negligent, so undiscerning.”
    “Taking you for a slave,” I said, “it never occurred to him that you would not obey.”
    “But I was a free woman,” she said.
    “True,” I said.
    “Why would he suppose that a slave would obey?” she asked.
    “Were you more of a slave,” I said, “you would understand.” The obedience of a slave is to be unquestioning and instantaneous. It does not take an intelligent woman long to learn this, usually no more than a first hesitation, following which they are apprised of their lapse by the switch or lash.
    “What would they do with the gathered slaves?” she asked.
    “I would suppose,” I said, “as confiscated goods, they would become the property of the state, later to be distributed, put on sale or such.”
    “Suitable for slaves,” she said.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “How meaningless and worthless they are,” she said.
    “They have their uses,” I said.
    “Though there were many in the streets,” she said, “almost no one paid attention to me. It was almost as though I might have been a loose verr.”
    “Or tarsk,” I suggested.
    “I made my way through crowds,” she said. “There was only one untoward incident. Most unpleasant! Only a hundred yards from the walls, I was accosted by a large female slave. ‘High slave!’ she sneered. ‘Give me your sandals!’”
    “You wore sandals?” I said.
    “Of course,” she said.
    I nodded. It was not that unusual for a favored slave, a high slave, a spoiled slave, or such, to be granted sandals.
    Most masters, subject, of course, to conditions of weather and terrain, keep their girls barefoot. This is because they like to see the feet of slaves bare, as they like, generally, bareness in slaves. Too, the feet of slaves are often attractive, small, and pretty. Too, of course, being barefoot helps the slaves to keep in mind that they are slaves. The barefootedness of the slave also tends to draw a further distinction between her and the free woman, for the free woman, even of low caste, almost always has footwear of one sort or another, even if it is only a wrapping of cloth. Too, who would put sandals, slippers, or such, on verr, tarsks, kaiila, or such?
    “Did your girls have sandals?” I asked.
    “Certainly not,” she said.
    I raised the broth, again, to my lips, surveying her over its brim. She seemed uneasy, my eyes upon her.
    “Master?” she said.
    She seemed uncertain, as to whether she might continue to speak. I found that encouraging. She was not sure of herself before me. That was appropriate. It seemed clear she wished to speak, but was reluctant to ask permission to do so, for what that might signify, not so much to me, as to her.
    I put the bowl to the floor, beside me, with its residue of fluid.
    “Master?” she said, again.
    I suspected it had been long since anyone had listened to her, long since her hunger, that of a woman, to be heard had been satisfied. To be denied speech is a torment for them. Indeed, the control of their speech, as that of their food, and garmenture, muchly impresses on them what they are. It leaves them in little doubt that they are in a collar. They want so much to speak! I think that we should indulge them in this. Certainly it is another pleasure, that of listening, derivable from them. So put one such as she, a highly intelligent, articulate, aware, sensitive, literate woman, such as obviously belongs in the collar, before you, and listen to her, and with care. She is, of course, to be naked and kneeling, with her hands braceleted or thonged behind her. There is, I assure you, a special flavor or ambiance to such a conversation. Afterwards, when one wishes, one terminates the conversation, and does with her what one wishes.
    “Continue,” I