Gor 20 - Players of Gor by John Norman

Author:John Norman [Norman, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, General, Science Fiction, Historical, Thrillers, Fiction
ISBN: 9780759219328
Google: KRu-73T5GJ4C
Amazon: 075921932X
Publisher: e-reads.com
Published: 2007-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Are you comfortable, Lady Telitsia?” asked Boots.

“Yes,” she said. She knelt, her wrists tied together over her head, fastened by a short strap to a transversely mounted, sturdy wooden bar. It was about five feet from the ground. It was the morning after he had acquired her.

“Surely you are bluffing, and you have no intention of going through with this,” she said. She was naked, except for a collar. The legend on the collar said, “If you find me, return me to Boots Tarsk-Bit. Reward.” It was the same collar as was worn by Boots’s other girls. He had put it on her immediately after returning to the camp last night. He had then chained her in the girl wagon, on one of the open, steel-floored, steel-sided kennels, and retired. This morning, early, he had dragged her forth and bound her in her present position. He had then had a large breakfast. Doubtless she was quite hungry. Still she had not yet been fed. That was just as well, considering what was to be done to her.

Boots shook out the blades of a five-stranded Gorean slave whip.

“As I recall,” said Boots, “you said, at the fair, that you were not afraid of men.” She was silent.

“How proudly you said that,” marveled Boots, swinging the freed lash blades loosely. “To be sure, at that time, you probably had never had any reason to be afraid of men. Now that you are a slave, however, you will find that you do have reason, and ample reason, and not only to fear men, but, indeed, any free person.”

“I am hungry,” she said. “Am I to be fed?”

“Perhaps when you learn to beg for it,” he said.

“Never,” she said.

“Did you enjoy your night in the girl wagon?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “The steel was cold. I did not even have a rag to put between myself and the steel.”

“To be sure, the nights are chilly,” said Boots.

“I would like to have a blanket in the future,” she said.

“There might be a shred of a blanket somewhere about,” said Boots. “Perhaps you could beg for it.”

“Never,” she said.

“I gave you some time last night, while you were chained in the girl wagon,” said Boots, “to consider your up-coming beating this morning. Did you give it much thought?”

“No,” she said.

“Why not?” asked Boots.

“You would not dare to beat me,” she said.

“Why not?” asked Boots, eager to be informed.

“Because of the kind of person I am,” she said. “I am above being beaten. That is for low females.”

“Such as slaves?” asked Boots.

“Yes,” she said.

“I see,” said Boots.

“As it turns out,” she said, “I am right.”

“How is that?” asked Boots.

“If you were going to beat me,” she said, “you would have already done so by now.”

“I have been giving my breakfast some time to digest,” said Boots. “I would not wish to upset my stomach.”

“Of course not,” she said, ironically.

“But now,” said Boots, “I think I will be all right.”

“What?” she asked, half turning about.

“You have been a nuisance, Lady Telitsia,” he said.

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