chained
by the neck, kneeling down, heads down, in the street. I forced from my mind,
angrily, the memory of the women in the market, naked, chained in place,
awaiting the interest of buyers.
I twisted on the great couch, in misery.
Nowhere more than on this world had I felt my femininity, and nowhere else,
naturally enough, I suppose, had I felt it more keenly frustrated. I wondered
what it was, truly, to be a woman.
I had had a strange dream. I had awakened into it, or had seemed to awaken into
it, from another. In the preceding learn I had been on my hands and knees on the
tiles of a strange room. I was absolutely naked. There was a chain on my neck
and it ran to a ring in the floor. Drusus Rencius, standing, was towering over
me. He carried a whip. He was smiling. I looked up at him, in terror. He shook
out the long, broad, pliant blades of the Whip. It was a five-stranded Gorean
slave whip. I looked at the blades, in terror. “What are you going to do?” I
asked. “Teach you to be a woman,” he said. I had then seemed to awaken into
another dream. In this one was Ligurious. I felt portions of the coverlet being
wrapped about me, between my shoulders and thighs. My arms were pinned to my
sides, within the coverlet. I whimpered. It seemed that I was only partially
conscious. Then I became aware of someone else in the room, bearing a small,
flickering lamp. Ligurious held the coverlet with his right hand, holding it
together, holding me in place, helplessly within it. With his left hand, it
fastened in my hair, he pulled my head back painfully. This exposed my features
to the lamp. I sobbed, responding to this domination.
“Do you see?” he asked. “Is it not remarkable?”
“Yes,” said a woman’s voice. I gasped. It was as though I looked upon myself.
She, as I had, earlier in the day, wore the robes of the Tatrix. She, too, as I
had, wore no veil. In the madness of the dream, in its oddity, it was surely I,
or one much like myself, who looked upon me. How strange are dreamsl
“I think she will do very nicely,” said Ligurious.
“fbat, too, would be my conjecture,” said the woman.
Ligurious moved his right hand, grasping the rim of the coverlet, tight about my
breasts.
“Do you wish to see her, fully?” he asked. I whimpered. I realized he could
strip the coverlet away, baring me in the light of the lamp.
“You are not so clever as you think, Ligurious,” she said.
“Do you think I do not see that you, in stripping her, would be, in effect, and
to your lust and amusement, stripping me, and before my very eyes?”
“Forgive me,” smiled Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus.
“Pull the lower portion of the coverlet down further,” she said. “You have
revealed too much of her thighs.”
“Of course,” he smiled, and adjusted the coverlet, drawing it down, over my
knees.
“Men ate beasts,” she said.
“You well know my feelings for you,” he said.
“They will go unrequited,” she said. “Content yourself with your slaves.”
I feared the woman bending over me. I could sense now that even if she seemed
superficially much like me, at least in appearances, she was in actuality quite
different. She seemed highly intelligent, doubtless more so than I, and severe
and decisive. She seemed harsh, and hard and cold. She seemed merciless and
cruel; she seemed arrogant, impatient, demanding, haughty and imperious. Such a
woman I thought, as I am not, is perhaps a true Tatrix. Surely it seemed more
believable that such a woman might hold power in a city such as Corcyrus than I.
The lamp again approached more closely. Again my head was pulled back,
helplessly, firmly, forcibly.
“She is not as beautiful as I,” said the woman.
“No,” said Ligurious. “Of course not.”
Then my hair was released and the two figures took their way from the room.
I had then twisted on the couch, freed myself of the confinements of the
coverlet, and, sensible
by the neck, kneeling down, heads down, in the street. I forced from my mind,
angrily, the memory of the women in the market, naked, chained in place,
awaiting the interest of buyers.
I twisted on the great couch, in misery.
Nowhere more than on this world had I felt my femininity, and nowhere else,
naturally enough, I suppose, had I felt it more keenly frustrated. I wondered
what it was, truly, to be a woman.
I had had a strange dream. I had awakened into it, or had seemed to awaken into
it, from another. In the preceding learn I had been on my hands and knees on the
tiles of a strange room. I was absolutely naked. There was a chain on my neck
and it ran to a ring in the floor. Drusus Rencius, standing, was towering over
me. He carried a whip. He was smiling. I looked up at him, in terror. He shook
out the long, broad, pliant blades of the Whip. It was a five-stranded Gorean
slave whip. I looked at the blades, in terror. “What are you going to do?” I
asked. “Teach you to be a woman,” he said. I had then seemed to awaken into
another dream. In this one was Ligurious. I felt portions of the coverlet being
wrapped about me, between my shoulders and thighs. My arms were pinned to my
sides, within the coverlet. I whimpered. It seemed that I was only partially
conscious. Then I became aware of someone else in the room, bearing a small,
flickering lamp. Ligurious held the coverlet with his right hand, holding it
together, holding me in place, helplessly within it. With his left hand, it
fastened in my hair, he pulled my head back painfully. This exposed my features
to the lamp. I sobbed, responding to this domination.
“Do you see?” he asked. “Is it not remarkable?”
“Yes,” said a woman’s voice. I gasped. It was as though I looked upon myself.
She, as I had, earlier in the day, wore the robes of the Tatrix. She, too, as I
had, wore no veil. In the madness of the dream, in its oddity, it was surely I,
or one much like myself, who looked upon me. How strange are dreamsl
“I think she will do very nicely,” said Ligurious.
“fbat, too, would be my conjecture,” said the woman.
Ligurious moved his right hand, grasping the rim of the coverlet, tight about my
breasts.
“Do you wish to see her, fully?” he asked. I whimpered. I realized he could
strip the coverlet away, baring me in the light of the lamp.
“You are not so clever as you think, Ligurious,” she said.
“Do you think I do not see that you, in stripping her, would be, in effect, and
to your lust and amusement, stripping me, and before my very eyes?”
“Forgive me,” smiled Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus.
“Pull the lower portion of the coverlet down further,” she said. “You have
revealed too much of her thighs.”
“Of course,” he smiled, and adjusted the coverlet, drawing it down, over my
knees.
“Men ate beasts,” she said.
“You well know my feelings for you,” he said.
“They will go unrequited,” she said. “Content yourself with your slaves.”
I feared the woman bending over me. I could sense now that even if she seemed
superficially much like me, at least in appearances, she was in actuality quite
different. She seemed highly intelligent, doubtless more so than I, and severe
and decisive. She seemed harsh, and hard and cold. She seemed merciless and
cruel; she seemed arrogant, impatient, demanding, haughty and imperious. Such a
woman I thought, as I am not, is perhaps a true Tatrix. Surely it seemed more
believable that such a woman might hold power in a city such as Corcyrus than I.
The lamp again approached more closely. Again my head was pulled back,
helplessly, firmly, forcibly.
“She is not as beautiful as I,” said the woman.
“No,” said Ligurious. “Of course not.”
Then my hair was released and the two figures took their way from the room.
I had then twisted on the couch, freed myself of the confinements of the
coverlet, and, sensible
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