There was a sudden, loud knock at the door. I cried out, startled. The girl turned white, and then,
There was a sudden, loud knock at the door. I cried out, startled. The girl turned white, and then, facing the door, immediately dropped to her knees. She cried out something, frightened. The door opened. A large man stood framed in the doorway. He seemed agile and strong. He glanced about. His eyes seemed piercing. He had broad shoulders and long arms. His hair was cut rather short, and was brown, flecked with gray. He wore a white tunic, trimmed in red. He looked at me and I almost fainted. It was something in his eyes. I knew I had never seen a man like this before. There was something different about him, from all other men I had seen. It was almost as though a lion had taken human form. “It is Ligurious, my Master,” said the girl, her head now down to the floor, the palms of her hands on the tiles. I swallowed hard, and then tried, desperately, to meet the man’s gaze. I must show him that I was a true person. “Get on the bed,” he said. His voice had an accent. I could not place it. I fled to the bed and crept obediently upon it. He came to the edge of the bed and looked down at me. I half lay, half crouched on the bed. I was very conscious of the shortness of the robe I wore. He said something to Susan and she sprang up and came to the edge of the bed. He said something else to her. I did not understand the language, or even recognize it. “He says he thinks you will prove quite suitable,” she said to me, in English. “For what?” I begged. “I do not know, Mistress,” she said. “Get on your back,” he said. Immediately, obediently, I lay supine before him. “Raise your right knee, and extend your left leg,” he said, “palms of your hands at your sides, facing upward.” I immediately assumed this position. I felt very vulnerable, particularly, interestingly, as the palms of my hands were exposed. I began to breathe deeply. I was terrified. I also realized, suddenly, that I was very aroused, sexually, obeying him. I moaned. I hoped that he was not displeased. It had been safe to displease the men I had hitherto known, or most of them. They might be displeased with impunity. I was afraid, however, to displease this man. I did not think he would accept being displeased. He, I was sure, would simply punish me, and well. He might even kill me. How far this place seemed to me from the culture with which I was familiar, and yet how close was this place to my dreams. Something deep, and ancient, in the relation of male and female, then spoke to me. What woman’s sexual responses are not aroused most profoundly by the vigorous, vigorous, commanding, aggressive, uncompromising dominant male? What woman does not sense in him he whose role it is to rule? Better to kneel at the feet of one such man than manipulate a thousand indoctrinated, pusillanimous cowards. Better to sleep at the slave ring, naked and chained, of such a man than share a weakling’s couch. I lay trembling on the great couch, in the posture that had been commanded of me, under the scrutiny of a male such as I had never guessed could exist. He looked down at me. I was much aroused. I whimpered. I expected him to rape me. I was even eager to be raped, anything to please him. I felt his hand take my ankle. I was so charged with sensation that I almost fainted at the touch. Then I became aware that his grip was like steel. Then I saw him take a string from about his neck. On this string there was a tiny key. Startled, I felt the key inserted in the lock on my anklet. Then the anklet was removed. I lay trembling on the bed. He stood there then, looking down at me, the anklet, string and key in his hand. I then realized, partly in relief, and, in a part of me, with disappointment, that I was not then, or at least not then, to be raped. I was not then to feel his strong hands on me, forcing me, as a woman, imperiously to his will. “Speak,” he said. “Who are you?” I asked. “Who is she? Where am I? What am I doing here? What do you want of me?” “I am Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus,” he said. “She is unimportant. Her name is Susan. She is a slave.” “No,” I said. “I mean, who is Ligurious? Who are you? I have never heard of you.” “You need know little more of me than that I am the first minister of Corcyrus,” he said. “Where am I?” I asked. “In Corcyrus,” he said. “But where is Corcyrus?” I begged. “I do not even know in what part of the world I am!” He looked at me, puzzled. The girl said something to him. He smiled. “Am I in Africa?” I asked. “Am I in Asia?” “Have you not noticed subtle differences in the gravity here,” he asked, “from what you have been accustomed to? Have you not noticed that the air here seems somewhat different from that with which you have hitherto been familiar?” “I have seemed to notice such things,” I said, “but I was drugged in my apartment. Obviously such sensations are delusory, merely the effects of that drug.” “The drug,” he said, “does not produce such effects.” “What are you telling me?” I asked, frightened. “After a short while,” he said, “you will no longer think of these things. You will not even notice them, or, at least, not consciously. You will have made your adjustments and accommodations. You will have become acclimated, so to speak. At most you may occasionally become aware that you are now experiencing a condition of splendid vitality and health.” “What are you telling me?” I asked, frightened. “This is not Earth,” he said. “This is another planet.” “Does this seem to be Earth to you?” he asked. “No,” I whispered. “Does this seem to be a room of Earth to you?” he asked. “No,” I said. “You have been brought here by spaceship,” he said. I could not speak. “The technology involved is more sophisticated, more advanced, than that with which you are familiar,” he said. “But you speak English,” I said. “She speaks English!” “I have learned some English,” he said. “She, however, speaks it natively.” He turned to the girl. He said something to her. “I have been given permission to speak,” she said. “I am from Cincinnati, Ohio, Mistress,” she said. “She was brought to this world more than two years ago,” he said. “My original name was Susan,” she said. “My last name does not matter. When I became a slave, of course, my name was gone. Animals do not have names, except as their masters might choose to name them. The name ‘Susan’ was again put upon me, but now, of course, I have it only as a slave name.” “Why was she brought here?” I asked. “For the usual reason for which an Earth female is brought here,” he said. “What is that?” I asked. “To be a slave,” he said. He then turned to the girl and said something. She nodded. He then turned again to me. “You may break position,” he said. I rolled to my stomach, on the couch, clutching at it. I shuddered. I was not on Earth. “Why have I been brought here?” I asked. “To be a slave, to be branded, to wear a collar, to serve some man as though he might be my master.” “He would be your master,” said the man, very evenly, very quietly, very menacingly. I nodded, frightened. It was true, of course. If I were a slave then he who was my master would indeed be my master, and totally. I could be owned as completely, and easily, as Susan, or any other woman. “But I think you will be pleased to learn what we have in store for you,” he said. “What?” I asked, turning to my side, pulling the robe down on my thighs. “In time,” he said, “I think things will become clearer to you.” Ligurious then turned and left the room. As he had left the room, though he had scarcely noticed her, Susan had knelt, with her head to the tiles. She now rose to her feet. -- source link