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Lisa nodded. Perhaps she wasn't convinced."Come in here, Bethany!" Carrie called."Is a wine cooler O.K.?" Lisa asked."Please," I said. I listened to my voice as I said this. For somereason, I had turned that one-syllable word, "please", into a two-syllable that sounded like a question, modifying a simple statementexpressing my wishes into a passive pleading. I looked down at the flatfront of my slacks and sighed."Bethany!" the other girls were calling"Are you sure you're O.K.?" Lisa asked again.I straightened up, threw my shoulders back, smiled, and was nodding whenI felt something being placed on my head. "Now you have to put thison," Ann Marie was telling me. I reached up and touched it. It was aplastic tiara. I went over to a mirror in the hallway to see howridiculous it looked.I was surprised. Adjusting the two small combs on either side, it slidon top of my head rather unobtrusively; it didn't even clash with myearrings. I turned around to see Ann Marie handing me a. I did find a spot next to George. He indicated that Dina was going to be dancing in the first contested dance, 'The Dance of the Newly Collared Slave'.There was a sand pit set up in the middle of the room with a wooden pole in the middle. Apparently, almost all dances took place in a sand pit at most Gorean gatherings. Dina was the first one up. She stood beside the pole and the music started, primarily the beating of primitive drums. She crossed the pit several times, gracefully and lithely back and forth, her red silks flying around her, like she was looking for a way to escape. Each time she was brought up about five feet from the pole, like she was in a cage, or there was a rope or chain attached to her collar, she collapsed to her knees and brought her hands up to the collar on her neck, tugging at it like she wished to be free of it; sinking dejectedly when it wouldn't come off. A clang of a cymbal and she turned, as if a door had just opened. She backed away from the supposed.
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