He slips into the bed beside her. Suddenly she resolves to try to resist him.

But his hand touches her. It is on her breast, not harshly but with a tenderness and power that alarms her. It seems such a strong hand, so large and rough.

“Your breasts are beautiful, Slave,” he tells her.

“Thank you, Master,” she says.

His hand then slips to her delta, gently but as something he owns and would touch.

She feels a subtle, incredible pleasure.

She lifts her lips to his. “I love you, Master,” she whispers.

I do not think the master will forget this girl. I think it possible she will become one of his favorites.

The light from an open hearth is also very beautiful, of course, and barbaric. It can suggest a cave fire or the blaze in the hall of a Viking chieftain. You need, of course, a heavy rug before the fire, on which you may lie. It should be simple and deeply piled. It may be, if you wish, an animal rug. On this rug, the slave, naked save for her collar and chains, responds helplessly, eagerly, to her master. She makes marvelous love to him. (If she is a captured cave woman, she might begin the game with her hands thonged behind her; when she becomes fully aroused, she is released to roll, to kiss, to laugh and squirm with her captor, to lick and caress and such, one of a pair of deliciously mating animals.) Viking chieftains often kept slave girls. Girls were prize plunder. Heavy collars might be put on their thralls. There could even be a “Viking feast,” at which the prizes, stripped, serve their new masters. Roast meat. What about trying to whip up some mead? Perhaps better stick with warm whiskey.1

1 Torchlight, doubtless, is sexy, too; but most houses and apartments do not come equipped with torches; also, there is no point in smoking up the ceiling or burning down a residence; torches, legally, I would suppose, would count as “friendly fires,” and, accordingly, would not be covered by fire insurance policies; furthermore, most people unfortunately use torches for burning down buildings, not illuminating beautiful women; accordingly, there would be a presumption, I expect, not of imaginative sex, but arson; if you have a private patio, of course, torches on a summer’s night might be lovely. (Various patio “torches” would seem suitable.)