back. I could still feel its print there. I was frightened. I could feel the rough, flattened coarseness of the carpet beneath me. I noted the difference between the feel of it, from lying upon it on my back, before, and as I did now, on my stomach. It had seemed plain, hard and scratchy to my back, a suitable surface, I supposed, on which a girl's virginity might be tested, but as I lay on my stomach, to my softness, to my breasts and belly, to my thighs, it seemed oddly different. I was now much more conscious of it, the irregularities of its surface, the tiny, abrupt roughnesses, where a shoe might have moved the pile. I had walked upon that carpet thousands of times. Never before, however, had I lain on it, on my stomach, naked.
"Kneel," said my captor.
I struggled to my knees. My body was still sensitive to the feel of the rug. Taurog had not been gentle with me. I could still feel the print of his heel on my back. I gathered that I was not the sort of thing to which gentleness need be shown.
(pg. 43) I looked at my captor.
"It might interest you to know that you have been on our list for some time," he said.
"List?" I said.
"Yes," he said, "lists, actually. You have been on our scouting list for a year, on our consideration list for six months, and on our active list for some three months."
"I am not a slave!" I cried.
Slowly the man approached me and I shrank back. Then he took me by the upper arms and pulled me up, from my knees, before him, until I was half standing. "On the contrary," he said, "my hateful little charmer, you are. I assure you of it. There is not the least doubt about the matter. We know our work. To a practiced eye, a discerning eye, one which is trained to look for, and recognize, such things, you are obviously a slave. The suitable condition for a woman such as you is perfectly clear, deny it and squirm though you might."
"No, no," I whimpered, turning my head away from him.
"Do you think I cannot recognize slaves?" he asked. "It is my business."
I moaned.
He shook me, and my head snapped back, and I cried out with misery.
"Look at me," he said.
I did so, terrified.
"I, like many others," he said, "can recognize slaves, and, have no fear, I have recognized you as one."
"No, I whimpered, not wanting to look at him.
"Look at me," he said.
Again I looked at him, terrified.
"It is in your eyes," he said.
"No," I wept.
"Even months ago," he said, "when I looked into your eyes, when you sat in those silly garments, behind that foolish desk, I saw that you, beneath all that cotton and wool, were a naked slave."
"No," I wept.
"And I look into them now," he said, "and see that it is true."
"No, no, no!" I wept, turning my head away. I dared not meet those fierce eyes which so frightened me, which seemed somehow to look through me, burning through me like fire, bringing unwelcome, frightening torches to my secret darkness, (pg. 44) penetrating to my deepest and most closely guarded secrets, to what lay in the most secret belly and heart of me.
"Shall I have you dance again, before men?" he asked.
"No," I said. "No!"
"Do not fear," he said, "you will dance again before them, and dance as you have never dreamed a woman could dance before men!"
"No!" I wept. "No, no!"
He released me, and I subsided weakly to my knees before him. It seems that one could do little but kneel before such a man. Then, angrily, he thrust silk in my mouth, my own, that which he had made me take off earlier. I was silenced.
"On all fours," he said.
I went to all fours before him. A loop of the chain leash hung down by my neck, to the right, a foot or so, and then lopped up to its attachment. I could feel its weight. It turned the collar a little to the right.
The men then spoke for a few moments among themselves. I could not understand the language. It seemed expressive, and highly inflected.
The leader turned to me. I saw him remove the whip from his belt. I put my head down. I bit into the silk,
"Kneel," said my captor.
I struggled to my knees. My body was still sensitive to the feel of the rug. Taurog had not been gentle with me. I could still feel the print of his heel on my back. I gathered that I was not the sort of thing to which gentleness need be shown.
(pg. 43) I looked at my captor.
"It might interest you to know that you have been on our list for some time," he said.
"List?" I said.
"Yes," he said, "lists, actually. You have been on our scouting list for a year, on our consideration list for six months, and on our active list for some three months."
"I am not a slave!" I cried.
Slowly the man approached me and I shrank back. Then he took me by the upper arms and pulled me up, from my knees, before him, until I was half standing. "On the contrary," he said, "my hateful little charmer, you are. I assure you of it. There is not the least doubt about the matter. We know our work. To a practiced eye, a discerning eye, one which is trained to look for, and recognize, such things, you are obviously a slave. The suitable condition for a woman such as you is perfectly clear, deny it and squirm though you might."
"No, no," I whimpered, turning my head away from him.
"Do you think I cannot recognize slaves?" he asked. "It is my business."
I moaned.
He shook me, and my head snapped back, and I cried out with misery.
"Look at me," he said.
I did so, terrified.
"I, like many others," he said, "can recognize slaves, and, have no fear, I have recognized you as one."
"No, I whimpered, not wanting to look at him.
"Look at me," he said.
Again I looked at him, terrified.
"It is in your eyes," he said.
"No," I wept.
"Even months ago," he said, "when I looked into your eyes, when you sat in those silly garments, behind that foolish desk, I saw that you, beneath all that cotton and wool, were a naked slave."
"No," I wept.
"And I look into them now," he said, "and see that it is true."
"No, no, no!" I wept, turning my head away. I dared not meet those fierce eyes which so frightened me, which seemed somehow to look through me, burning through me like fire, bringing unwelcome, frightening torches to my secret darkness, (pg. 44) penetrating to my deepest and most closely guarded secrets, to what lay in the most secret belly and heart of me.
"Shall I have you dance again, before men?" he asked.
"No," I said. "No!"
"Do not fear," he said, "you will dance again before them, and dance as you have never dreamed a woman could dance before men!"
"No!" I wept. "No, no!"
He released me, and I subsided weakly to my knees before him. It seems that one could do little but kneel before such a man. Then, angrily, he thrust silk in my mouth, my own, that which he had made me take off earlier. I was silenced.
"On all fours," he said.
I went to all fours before him. A loop of the chain leash hung down by my neck, to the right, a foot or so, and then lopped up to its attachment. I could feel its weight. It turned the collar a little to the right.
The men then spoke for a few moments among themselves. I could not understand the language. It seemed expressive, and highly inflected.
The leader turned to me. I saw him remove the whip from his belt. I put my head down. I bit into the silk,
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