Slave girl of Gor
Book 11 : Chapter 7

 Later I lay in his arms, an owned slave girl, content beside the mightiness of her master.

How I loved him!

"Strange," he said, looking up at the Gorean stars.

"Master?" I asked.

"You are obviously only a common girl," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said. I began to kiss him gently about the shoulder.

"Only a common girl," he said.

It was true. He was Clitus Vitellius, a Captain, of the city of Ar. I was only Dina.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"I fear that I might begin to care for you," he said.

"If Dina has found favor with her master," I said, "she is pleased."

"I must fight this weakness," he said.

"Whip me," I said.

"No," he said.

"It is not you who is weak, Master," I said. "It is I, Dina, in your arms, who am without strength." I kissed him.

"I am a captain," he said. "I must be strong."

"I am a slave girl," I said. "I must be weak."

"I must be strong," he said.

"You did not seem weak to me, Master," I said, "when you laughed, and took me, and named me Dina. Then you seemed magnificent in your power and pride."

"It was only the conquest of a slave girl," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said, "I am your conquest." It was true. Dina, the Earth girl, she who had once been Judy Thornton, a lovely college student and poetess, was now the enslaved love conquest of Clitus Vitellius of Ar.

"You trouble me," he said, angrily.

"Forgive me, Master," I said.

"I should rid myself of you," he said.

"Permit me to follow at the heels of the least of your soldiers," I said. I truly did not fear that he would rid himself of me. I loved him. I was confident that he, too, in spite of himself, cared for me.

"Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Has Dina pleased you this night?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"I want your collar," I said.

There was a long silence. Then he said, "You are an Earth girl. Yet you beg to wear a collar?"

"Yes, Master," I said.

It is said, in a Gorean proverb, that a man, in his heart, desires freedom, and that a woman, in her belly, yearns for love. The collar, in its way, answers both needs. The man is most free, owning the slave. He may do what he wishes with her. The woman, on the other hand, being owned, is institutionally and helplessly subject, in her status as slave, to the submissions of love.

I sensed my master feared his feelings for me. This gave me power over him.

"Dina wants Master’s collar," I whispered, kissing at him. The collar would make me the equal of Eta.

"I decide what slaves will wear my collar," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said, chastened. If he saw fit to put me in his collar, he would; if he did not, he would not.

"Does Dina love her master?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, Master!" I whispered. I so loved him!

"Have I given you choice in this?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said. "You have made me love you, helplessly and wholly."

"Your feelings, then," he asked, "have been fully engaged, and you are now mine, at my complete mercy, fully and vulnerably, with no shred of pride or dignity left?"

"Yes, Master," I whispered.

"You acknowledge yourself then hopelessly in love with me, and as a slave girl?"

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Amusing," he said.

"Master?" I asked.

"I, and the men, and other girls," lie said, "will leave Tabuk’s Ford in the morning. You will remain behind. I am giving you to Thurnus."