John Norman Gor 14 Fighting Slave of Gor

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.I had seen her, in that instant, not inwonder and pleasure, as I had before, but from the point of view ofuncompromising manhood, in triumph and pleasure, as the most suitable and fitobject possible for the exercise of masculine power and desire, as what shenow was, and only was, a beautiful female slave.The masters, and the servants, laughed.Even some of the draft slaves laughed.The girl was sobbing.Again I shook my head, to clear away the violent andexciting memory, that recollection of the instant in which I had seen the girlas what she now was, and only was, a slave.It struck me with incredible forcethat not only could she be owned, but that she was owned, literally.When Ihad looked at the girl several of the other girls had quickly sucked in theirbreath.The breasts of some were rising and falling with excitement.Thebodies of others, in their brief tunics, had blushed crimson.I saw more thanone girl looking at me.Doubtless they, too, from time to time, here and there, had been looked uponhonestly, as slave females. Did you see that? asked one of the men in the palanquins, he whom I took tobe the girl s owner, to his friend. Yes, said the other.I blushed in shame, that I had, though only for an instant, looked upon thegirl as a slave.How shamed, and offended, she must have been! But, of course,she now was a slave, only a slave. Granus, Turus, said the man in the palanquin, that to which the gins cofflewas chained.I looked to the girl, but she would not meet my gaze.How sorry I was thenthat I had looked upon her as might have a Gorean male.She was not a Goreangirl.She was of Earth.Did I not know that? Yet she was surely beautiful, and a logally imbondedslave.I heard a grunt near me.I spun about.A fist struck me in the side of thehead.Then Iwas kicked, and punched in the side.I gasped, stumbling back.Two of thedraft slaves were upon me, pounding and kicking.I rolled under one of them,and leaped to my feet, bloody. Granus struck him a goodly blow, said someone.Page 111ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html I saw, said another. And he is again on his feet, observed another. Interesting, said someone. He is a strong fellow, said another.I wiped blood from the side of my head.I stood, unsteadily.The man in the palanquin gestured toward me with his glass, that on thepearled wand.The first of the two draft slaves again approached me, his great fists balledinto hammerlike weapons. When I strike you again, he said, do not get up.It will be enough for the masters.I gasped for breath.Then he lunged toward me.I tried to defend myself.His left fist struck intomy stomach, doubling me over, and then his right fist struck me against theleft side of the face.Isprawled sideways, losing my footing, slipping to the stones.I was halfkneeling, half lying, on the stones.The draft slave turned away from me. Look, called someone. He is on his feet againlI stood, unsteadily.The draft slave, he whom I took to be Granus, turned again, surprised, to faceme.He and his fellow looked at one another. Run, said the servant, the fellow with the whip, who stood near to me. Run.I saw that none blocked my alley of retreat. No, I said. It is a fight! called someone, excitedly.Again the fellow in the palanquin indicated me, bemused, with the glass on thepearled wand.Again the large draft slave lunged toward me.Twice more, brutally, he struckme, as Istumbled backward, and then I had seized him, holding him, trying to clear myhead, trying not to let him gain again the leverage to strike such tellingblows.I heard him grunt.My arms were tightening on him.I began to bend himbackwards.There was blood on his body then, mine, and on my tunic. No, hegrunted.Suddenly I saw he was frightened.Further I pressed him backward.Then, suddenly, terrified, I realized what I might do to him. Stop! called the man with the whip.I let the draft slave fall.His back had not been broken.I knew nothing offighting, butI had discovered, it frightening me, that there was in me, somehow, strengthwhich I had not understood.I recalled lifting the bench in the cell in theHouse of Andronicus.The exercises and the physical trainings to which I hadbeen subjected there I had, not really thinking about it, kept up. Are you a fighting slave? asked someone. No, I saidThe man with the whip looked to the man in the palanquin. Interesting, saidthe man in the palanquin. Is it enough? asked the man with the whip. Yes, said the man in the palanquin.I suddenly realized that he did not wishto risk a slave.The man in the palanquin lifted the glass on the pearled wand and, again, thedraft slaves took their places.The man with the whip joined other servantsbeside the palanquin.In a moment the two palanquins, with their respectiveretinues, were taking their respective departures.I stood, bloody,unsteadily, in the street.The crowd dissipated.Suddenly, angrily, I ran after the departing palanquin, that behind which theexquisite, dark-haired girl, she to whom I had been earlier speaking, was onePage 112ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlof the chained, displayed beauties.I slipped, unnoticed by the man in thepalanquin and his servants, behind the blond-haired girl, she who had told me she had once been free, who was the last inthe right-hand coffle, that lovely string of chained women.My hand closed on the back of the blond girl s neck.She gasped, startled. Who is your master? I asked. We are not permitted to speak in coffle, she said. Oh! she said.My handhad tightened on her neck. Who is your master? I asked, walking behind her. Oneander of Ar, she said, of the merchants.He does business in Vonda.I did not release her neck. You are not a silk slave, she said, in pain, held. Oneander of Ar? I asked. Yes, she said. Yes, what? I asked.My grip tightened. Yes-Master! she said.I released her, and she stumbled ahead, following inher place.She looked back, frightened.Then she again set her eyes ahead.She was not anEarth girl, of course.She was only a Gorean girl, and a slave, a woman fit tobe done with as men please.I walked to the side of the street, looking after the palanquin.with itsattached coffles.I knew I should return to the shop of Philebus.If my mistress emerged fromthe shop and I was not there, she would not be pleased.But, on an impulse.Ifollowed, for a time, behind it and on its left, the double coffle.Doubtless I attracted some attention, for I was bleeding and, as I discovered,the silk tunic I wore had been soiled from the street and torn at the leftsleeve; too, it was stained with my blood; but no one said anything to me.Perhaps they were wary of one who looked as though he might be distraught, ordangerous.I followed the double coffle on its left, for it was on the left side of herbody that the exquisite, dark-haired girl s short, loose silk had been hitchedup, baring her branded thigh to the hip.I observed her in the coffle,neck-chained, her small wrists, above the rounded flesh of her palms and belowthe sweet, rounded flesh of her small forearms, locked in the steel of slavebracelets.She was surely the most exciting, and desirable and beautiful womanI had ever seen.Earlier I had been almost stunned with the sight of herbeauty.I smiled to myself.I now knew who owned her, Oneander of Ar, a merchant who apparently didbusiness in Vonda.It would have been in Vonda, I supposed, that he hadpurchased her.It seemed a shame that he apparently kept her primarily as adisplay item.Perhaps, upon occasion, he used her, and the other girls, or hadthem thrown to his men.I wondered if she would make a good love slave [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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