Tribesmen of Gor John Norman

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Get on the couch, I told her.
Yes, Warrior. she whispered, again crawling upon the scarlet sheets. I put the
crop beside the couch, at hand. I doubted that it would be necessary to use it.
I went to one of the coffers and picked out two scarves.
What are they for? she asked.
You will see, I told her.
I dropped them to the pillow beside her. You made me fetch a kaiila crop, she
said, on my hands and knees, and in my mouth, as though I might be a she-
sleen.
You are a she-sleen, I said. You will be treated as one.
I am not in the habit, she said, of fetching kaiila crops in my teeth for men.
If you knew more men, I said, true men, the experience would be less
unfamiliar.
I see, she said.
The she-sleen, I said, is a sinuous and beautiful animal, and very dangerous,
one cannot show weakness with such an animal. They will turn and rend the
master. One must keep them under perfect discipline.
And if one keeps the she-sleen under perfect discipline? asked Tarna.
Then, said I, it is a superb, and beautiful, and most pleasing pet.
And I am the she-sleen? she asked.
Yes. I said.
And, she asked, am I, your she-sleen, to be kept under perfect discipline?
Of course, I said.
You are a beast, she said.
Yes, I said.
If I were a she-sleen, she said, snuggling back into the pillow, I think I would
like a master such as you.
You are a she-sleen, I said.
And you? she asked.
I am your master, I said.
Keep me under perfect discipline, Master, she said.
I will, I said.
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10 Tribesmen of Gor
She looked up at me, her lips parted, her eyes bright.
I give you my permission, she said, to do with me what you want.
I do not need your permission, I said.
Her hands were beside her bead, on the pillow. What are you going to do with
me? she asked.
You will see, I told her. I stood beside the couch, looming over her, looking
down upon her.
I saw she wished to say something. I waited. She rose up, on her elbows.
I have never felt this way before, she said.
I shrugged. I had no interest in her feelings.
You are different from the others, she whispered, the docile, weak ones.
It is you, a female, I said, who is weak, and it will be you who will be docile.
A she-sleen? she smiled.
You are not truly a she-sleen, I said.
Oh? she asked. What am I, truly?
What do you feel like? I asked.
I have strange feelings, she said. I have never felt them before.
She looked at me. I feel, before you, she said, weak, vulnerable. I want to be
overwhelmed by you, and held. I imagine a slave girl must have some such
feelings, before a strong master.
I smiled.
You are so different, she said, so different from the others, the weak, docile
ones.
It is you, I told her, who is weak. I held her hands down, pinned, under mine,
beside her head. She could not free herself.
Yes, she said, I am weak. She smiled up at me.
And it is you, I told her, who will be docile.
Yes, she said, I will be docile.
I freed her hands, and looked down at her.
Yes, she said, I am helpless. I will be docile.
You would make a pretty slave, I said.
Would I? she asked.
Yes, I said.
What are you going to do with me? she asked.
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You will see, I said.
I beg your favor, said she. Warrior.
What do you want? I asked.
Tonight----please, Warrior, she said, tonight let me be truly as a female slave.
Treat me not as your mistress, who owns you, but as only a slave girl, whom you
own, at your mercy. Treat me as a slave girl! Please, Warrior, treat me as a slave
girl!
Oh? I asked.
Teach me, she begged, to be a woman!
I do not have time, I said.
She looked at me, wildly.
I have a long kaiila ride ahead of me this night, I said. One of the scarves, which
I had been surreptitiously wadding at the side, I thrust swiftly, deeply, into her
mouth. She could not speak, but twisted, only tiny, fumbling sounds coming from
her mouth. Kneeling across her, pinning her arms to her sides, I then, with the
other scarf, tied the wadding securely in her mouth. Holding both her hands in my
left hand I then dragged her from the couch to the side of the room where, with my
right hand, I tore down some of the soft cords used to arrange the voluminous,
decorative drapes and hangings which adorned the chamber. I then threw her to
the slave ring and, with the cords, tied her wrists behind her back, and then,
passing the cord through the ring, crossed and tied her ankles together, pulling
them rather close to her bound wrists. I then put her on her knees, bound hand and
foot, at the slave ring. She struggled to face me, squirming, her eyes wild with
rage.
I looked to the door, considering the distance.
Swiftly I pulled the binding of the wadding free. I then, moving swiftly, so as to
be in place, went to the door. Head down, furious, Tarna fought to expel the
wadding, It took her a moment longer to do so than I had anticipated, but it did not
disarrange my plans. She spit out the wet, heavy scarf. She threw back her head.
Guards! she cried. Guards!
In a moment the door flew open and the two guards, scimitars drawn, entered the
room.
They saw Tarna at the slave ring. They stopped, startled. I was behind them. I took
the neck of each and, in the instant before they could react, struck together their
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10 Tribesmen of Gor
heads, felling both.
I closed the door.
Tarna was looking at me, wildly. You tricked me, she cried, squirming at the
ring.
I thrust the wadding back, deeply, in her mouth, securing it with the other scarf.
Yes, I said.
I dragged the two unconscious guards to the side. I took the garments of one, and
tied both, gagging them, to one side. One of the luxurious hangings I flung over
them.
I moved swiftly to the door, and, opening it a crack, reconnoitered.
I looked back to Tarna. She was enraged. She struggled. She had, of course, been
bound by a warrior. She was helpless. Near the red silk I had cast aside, when
donning the desert garments of the guard, on the tiles, I saw the vulgar, wooden,
rounded, yellow slave beads, the necklace, which I had not chosen to permit being
placed upon me.
Tarna shrank back. She shook her head. I scooped up the beads, which were in [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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