I screamed suddenly under it awakening under it startled not believing it not expecting it the suddeness it was like lightning the cracking sound like the sky breaking the snap like fire my body wrenching I pulling upwards the chain on my neck I fell to my side I pulled at the chain then the snap again no no please no so sharp so loud the fire the pain I screamed I was naked the chain cut my neck "Kneel," he said, "head to the floor," I obeyed then the snap the cracking sound again the lightning I fell to my stomach "Kneel," he snarled, "head to the floor," I sobbing obeyed.

"So," said he, "the modern woman under the whip."

I trembled, kneeling, my head down, the palms of my hands on the floor.

"Now, slut," said he, "your power is gone, all of it, that mistakenly given to you by foolish men."

I moaned, bent over, small before him, in a position of obeisance to his manhood, in pain.

"You are no longer on your world," he said.  "You are now on my world."

I trembled.

"Look up," he said.  "Kneel, kneel straightly.  Put your hands on your thighs.  Head up.  Split your knees.  More widely, slut!"

I obeyed.  I was then kneeling before him, straightly, my head up, my hands on my thighs, my knees widely spread, the chain from my collar dangling down before me, between my breasts, I could feel it on my body, and going back, between my knees, to a ring.  I was terrified.  I thought I must be mad.  My body was in pain.  There seemed something different here.  The air was different, a thousand times, it seemed, cleaner and fresher.  I had never known such air existed to be breathed. It made me feel somehow charged, and alive.  The whip seemed still, hot and terrible, to burn on my body.  And something else was different, too, something subtle, something I supposed I might quickly become accustomed to, but that now frightened me, terribly, in its implications.  Literally the world had a different feel.  Its gravity,  preposterously enough, seemed less than that with which I was familiar.  I dismissed this from my mind as some sort of confusion, or illusion.  But I knew that I was in p, sharp miserable pain, fiery, burning pain, put on me by a man, and that that was real.  I was an educated, civilized woman, a modern woman, I supposed, in some sense, but I found myself kneeling before a man!  Too, this startling me, this strangely affecting me it seemed that this was somehow appropriate for me, that it was rightful for me, that it was where I belonged.  I felt incredibly alive, and rightful there.  Too, he had whipped me awake.  What did that mean?  What must be my nature here, then, I wondered, or my condition or status, in this place, that I could be so awakened?  Though I was an educated, refined, civilized woman, a contemporary woman, a modern woman, I supposed, in some sense, I had been awakened by a whip!  I had felt the lash!

"Where am I?" I begged.

"On my world," he said, simply.

"Please do not lie to me," I begged.

"Interesting," he said.  "Are you accusing a man of lying to you?"  He shook out the whip's coil.

"No," I said.  "No!"  I understood then that sexuality was important in this place, wherever it was, and that we were not of the same sex.

"Ah, I see," he said.  "Of course.  You are merely still simple, and naive.  Yes, I suppose it would be hard for you to believe, very hard, particularly with your banal, sly, limited intelligence, my delicious, nasty, little animal."  To my relief he recoiled the whip.

"Your world?" I said.

"Your life is going to be different now," he said, "quite different, dramatically different in a number of ways."

"Your world?" I begged.

"Yes," he said.

"Another planet?" I asked.