the chair and the bed. She would be to the left of the bed, as one would face its foot.
He heard the movement of the sheet, a tiny noise, and the sound of her body, lying to his right, almost within reach.
“Are you naked?” he asked, not looking.
“I have the sheet,” she said. “It covers me.”
“Aside from that?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said.
He still did not dare to look at her. He found the thought of her lying there, naked, within the sheet, on the dark, hard, polished boards of the floor, disturbing.
“You do not care to look at me?” she said.
Brenner did not answer.
“Have I been displeasing?” she asked.
Brenner did not answer.
“There are instruments in the room which may be used in my subjugation,” she said.
Brenner was silent.
“What is it you fear?” she asked.
“Nothing!” said Brenner.
“Do you fear you will be tempted to call me to your side in the night?” she asked.
“No,” said Brenner. “No!”
“I would have to obey you, you know,” she said.
“Do not even speak so,” he said.
“Do you fear rather that it would be I, that it would be I who might approach you in the night,” she asked, “piteous, begging, perhaps even daring to touch you?”
“You?” said Brenner.
“Yes,” she said, “I.”
“That would be absurd,” he said.
“It is not absurd,” she whispered.
Brenner clenched his fists.
“You may prevent that,” she said, “by gagging and chaining me, and putting me where I cannot reach you. I will then be unable not only to reach you but even to beg for the assuagement of my needs.”
“Sexual needs?” inquired Brenner.
“Of course,” she said. “And in the profound and holistic sense in which a woman has such needs.”
“Such needs do not exist,” said Brenner.
“Is that why the home world must go to such lengths to deny them, to thwart, and suppress them?” she asked.
“You may have the bed, of course,” said Brenner.
“It is I who am under contract,” she said, “not you.”
“I shall sleep on the floor,” said Brenner.
“The bed is for the client,” she said, “and for me, only upon his sufferance.”
“I can order you to its surface,” he said.
She was silent. Brenner gathered that he could, indeed, do so.
“Please get into the bed,” said Brenner.
“Yes, sir,” she said. He heard the sound of the bed, receiving her slight weight.
“Please look upon me,” she said.
Brenner turned about. She was small on the large bed, kneeling on its surface, the sheet clutched about her.
“The bed is large,” she said. “There is much room. We can both lie upon it. We need not touch. You can bind and gag me, if you wish.”
“It is early,” said Brenner, uneasily.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I will sit here, and think,” said Brenner.
“May I have permission to leave the bed?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Brenner.
“May I beg to sleep upon the floor?” she asked.
“I suppose, if you wish it,” he said.
She moved gracefully, with a silken movement from the bed, and went to the wardrobe. Brenner refused to watch her at the wardrobe. He heard a tiny noise, as of a glass stopper removed from a bottle. A sudden fragrance, subtle but insinuative, indefinable, exciting, permeated the room. He heard the stopper replaced in the bottle, and the bottle returned to a shelf. She, and this scent, approached, and then she, half sitting, half lying, was again at the side of the bed, to Brenner’s right.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“What have you done?” he asked.
“I have freshened my perfume,” she said. “We often do that, when we have a guest.”
“It is a different perfume,” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
“It seems you desire to appeal to many senses,” he said.
“Of course,” she laughed. “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Even though I am a free woman?” she asked.
“I do not understand,” he said.
“It is a perfume of slaves,” she said. Then she snuggled down on the boards.
Brenner was alarmed. The perfume was heady, and the understanding that it was a slave perfume made him almost scream with need.
“You torture me,” he said.
“I am doing nothing,” she said. “I am just lying here. You may beat me, if you wish.”
“A cuffing might do you good,” he said, angrily.
“Quite possibly,” she said.
“I think you would make an excellent slave,” he said.
“If I were a slave, I would hope so,” she said, “as I would wish to live.”
Brenner growled, angrily.
“I may one day be a slave,” she said. “It is my understanding that that is a common fate for women under contract.”
“Perhaps,” said Brenner.
“If I were a