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"You have not yet begun to learn your slavery," he said. "Yes, master," I whispered, frightened. "Your name is 'Lita'". "Oh, thank you, master, thank you, master!" I breathed. It was a name I loved. Simple, short, luscious, provocative, suitable, and a common slave name. Who but a slave might bear such a name? Was it not exciting? Did it not hint of the steel of slave bracelets, the smell of thongs, held against the face, the clash of bangles, the rustle of silk? What a delightful joke had Drusus Rencius played upon me, the beast, when he had thought me to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus, and had conducted me to the house of Kliomenes, when he had there introduced me under the name of the Lady Lita! I had understood so little then! On the Viktel Aria, when I had been apprehended, after my escape from the camp of Miles of Argentum, I had innocently given my name as "Lita," and my captors had laughed. - (Kajira of Gor, Chapter )