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wondered that her master had not then, in his vanity, chosen to show them off. Gorean masters tend to be very proud of their slaves, rather as men of Earth are proud of their dogs and horses.
    I thought she was nicely figured, though the size, weight and texture of the tunic tended to conceal this to some extent.
    The tunic would be slipped on, over the head. There was, accordingly, no disrobing loop at the left shoulder.
    On the other hand the “strip” command may be obeyed, even so, with grace and alacrity. The garment is usually slipped back over the head as the girl kneels.
    Even in response to a simple, direct command, as suggested, the girl is expected to be graceful. Clumsiness is not acceptable in a slave; she is not a free woman. She is quite different, you see; she is a slave.
    There are, of course, a number of disrobing commands in Gorean, which are less curt and brutal than the direct, blunt, unadorned “Strip.” For example, one might hear “Remove your clothing,” “Bare yourself,” “Disrobe,” “Show me a slave,” “I would see my slave,” “Why are you clothed before me?” “Exhibit my property,” “Display yourself,” “You need not wear your tunic at the moment,” “Remove the impediments to my vision,” “You are lovelier stripped than clothed, are you not?” “What do I own?” “To the collar and brand, girl,” “How were you on the block?” And so on.
    There was, as noted, a collar on her neck.
    I wondered if it was locked.
    I supposed so.
    If locked, I wondered who held the key.
    Surely not she, as she was a slave.
    In her way, she was not unattractive, but that was to be expected, in one who was a slave, or expected to pass as a slave.
    Personally, on the other hand, I thought most Goreans would not have bid on her, as, clearly, she was not yet slave soft, or slave ready. There are enormous differences among women in these matters.
    Although, as I have suggested, she was not unattractive, it must be understood that this was in an Earth sort of way, the way in which many Earth females may be accounted attractive, attractive more in the sense of what they might become, how perhaps they might be, rather than in the sense of what they currently are. By this I mean, despite certain suitabilities of face and figure, she had something of the tightness, the apparent inhibitions, the uncertainties, and confusions, masked with the compensatory arrogance, nastiness, and insolence, of many Earth females, afflicted with the customary ambivalences toward their sex, comprehensible enough, one supposes, given their backgrounds, educations, and conditionings, their subjection to an environment seemingly engineered to produce, depending on a variety of circumstances, and the person, symptoms or tortures ranging from anxiety and neurosis to ill temper, misery, nastiness, pettiness, boredom, and depression.
    “The soup is hot,” said Constantina. “Surely you can tell that, stupid slave. Hurry, wrap the tabuk strips on their skewers, and put them to the fire. Are the suls and turpah ready?”
    “If my eyes do not deceive me,” said Cecily, testily, “my neck is not the only neck which is encircled with a slave band.”
    Constantina drew back her hand, as though to strike Cecily, but she stopped, suddenly, angrily, as Cecily, eyes flashing, was clearly prepared to return the blow, or worse. Fights amongst slave girls can be very disagreeable, with rolling about, clawing, biting, scratching, and such. One is reminded somewhat of the altercations that sometimes take place between sleen, in territorial disputes, mate competition, the contesting of a kill, and so on. In such frays, in the tangling, snarling, twisting, and swirling about, it is sometimes difficult to tell where one beast leaves off and the other begins. It can be worth an arm to try to separate fighting sleen.
    “Why not have her serve naked,” said Constantina. “Is that not commonly done with collared sluts?”
    “Why