Rask of Treve Indicated me. "Chain her," he said "under the moons of Gor."
"Come, Girl," said the guard.
I followed him.
I could now see the moons, beginning to rise over the points of the palisade.
What did I care that the girl, Talena, was tonight sent to the tent of Rask of Treve?
I hated him!
I hated her even more than him!
I wished the guard had not taken my clothes.
But when a girl is chained under tie moons of Gor, she is chained naked.
I did not understand their intention.
I lay back in the grass. I felt it with my hands. I closed my eyes. I smiled.

I was furious of course, with what he had done to me, but also, I could not have helped responding to him as I has. He had, cruelly, mercilessly, unfairly, giving me no option, elicited from me the fantastic depths of sensation of which I had not even realized my body was capable. His touch as that of a master, had commanded my body, totally, and I had swum in sensation, clutching him, fearing that I might drown with pleasure in his arms. Laugh if you will, but I could call him nothing but "Master." Do not scorn me nor mock me until you yourself, perhaps on some distant world someday wear a collar, until you, yourself as a slave have known the touch of such a man as Rask of Treve…………

I wept.
I threw myself against the chain, running toward his tent, and fell in the grass, my ankle burning, scraped, from the steel that obdurately clasped it. On my hands and knees I tried to crawl to the tent. My left leg stretched taunt behind me, held. I cried out with frustration and pounded the grassy earth, weeping, with my fists.

I rolled on my back and looked up at the moons.
I lay there my fist clenched. Then I closed my eyes. I could not dare to look upon them again, the great white. Looming moons of Gor, dominating the skies.
I pounded the grass with the sides of my fists in misery. The I dared to look again upon the vast, looming moons of Gor. What choice had I? I was only a girl who had been chained naked beneath them. I screamed and leaped to my feet, my hands extended to the moons, I stood helplessly beneath them, chained, naked, reaching for them.
Then I began to dance the madness of my need, writhing beneath the moons of Gor, clutching at them, turning stamping my feet, swirling, crying out.
And when I could dance no more I fell to the grass, writhing, tearing at it, whimpering.