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Yes Master, said the girl.
Thank you, Captain! cried the singer.
My retainers cried out with pleasure at my generosity, many of them striking
their left shoulders with their right fists in Gorean applause. Two slave
girls helped the singer from the stool on which he had sat and conducted him
to a table in a far corner of the room.
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I drank more paga.
I was furious.
Tarl of Bristol lived only in songs. There was on such man. There were, in the
end, only gold and steel, and perhaps the bodies of women, and perhaps songs,
the meaningless noises that might sometimes be heard in the mouths of the
blind.
Again I was Bosk, from the marshes, Pirate, Admiral of Port Kar.
I fingered the golden medallion with the lateen-rigged tarn ship, and the
initials of the Council of Captains of Port Kar in its half-curve beneath it.
Sandra! I called. Send for Sandra!
There were cheers from the tables.
I looked about. It was indeed a feast of victory. I was only angered that
Midice was not present with me. She had felt ill, and had begged to remain in
my quarters, which leave I had given her. Tab, too, was not present.
Then there was a rustle of slave bells and Sandra, the dancing girl of Port
Kar, whom I had first seen in a Paga tavern, and had purchased, primarily for
my men, stood before me, her master.
I looked on her with amusement.
How desperate she was to please me.
She wanted to be first girl, but I had kept her primarily with my men.
Beautiful, dark-haired, slender, marvelously-legged Midice was, in my house,
first girl, and my favored slave. As Tab was my first Captain.
But yet Sandra was of interest.
She had high cheekbones, and flashing black eyes, and coal-black hair, now
worn high, pinned, over her head. She stood wrapped in an opaque sheet of
shimmering yellow silk. As she had approached me I had heard the bells which
had been locked on her ankles and wrists, and hung pendant from her collar.
It would not hurt, I thought, for Midice to have a bit of competion.
And so I smiled upon Sandra.
She looked at me, eagerness and pleasure transfusing her features.
You may dance, Slave, I told her.
It was to be the dance of the six thongs.
She slipped the silk from her and knelt before the great table and chair,
between the other tables, dropping her head. She wore five pieces of metal,
her collar and locked rings on her wrists and ankles. Slave bells were
attached to the collar and the rings. She lifted her head, and regarded me.
The musicians, to one
side, began to play. Six of my men, each with a length of binding fiber,
approached her. She held her arms down, and a bit to the sides. The ends of
six lengths of binding fiber, like slave snares, were fastened on her, one for
each wrist and ankle, and two about her waist; the men, then, each holding the
free end of a length of fiber, stood about her, some six or eight feet from
her, three on a side. She was thus imprisoned among them, each holding a thong
that bound her.
I glanced to Thura. I recalled that she had been caught in capture loops on
the rence island, ot unlike the two now about Sandra s waist. Thura was
watching with eagerness.
So, too, were all.
Sandra then, luxuriously, catlike, like a woman awakening, stretched her arms.
There was laughter.
It was as though she did not know herself bound.
When she went to draw her arms back to her body there was just the briefest
instant in which she could not do so, and she frowned looked annoyed, puzzled,
and then was permitted to move as she wished.
I laughed.
She was superb.
Then, still kneeling, she raised her hand, head back, insolently to her hair,
to remove from it one of the ornate pins, its head carved from the horn of a
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kailiauk, that bound it.
Again a thong, this time that on her right wrist, prohibited, but only for an
instant, the movement, but inches from her hair.
She frowned. There was laughter.
At last, sometimes immediately permitted, sometimes not, she had removed the
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