Vagabonds of Gor (coc-2) by John Norman

Author:John Norman [Norman, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_fantasy
Published: 1987-03-19T05:00:00+00:00

22 Blankets

"Captor!" she said, pleased, as I strode up the sunny sand of the small bar, coming upon our camp. Immediately she knelt, spreading her knees. It was in this fashion that I had trained her to greet me. She might also await me, kneeling, or lying down. I carried two marsh grunts, caught on the other side of the bar. I put the grunts on a rock, to be cleaned and boned. She could attend to this. I snapped my fingers, and beckoned that she might approach me. She rose to her feet and approached me, backwards, as I had taught her. I gave her a slap, and put her to the sand. She squirmed delightfully, making small noises. After a moment or so I got again to my feet. She sobbed, that I was done with her so soon. "Prepare the grunts," I told her.

"Yes," she said. For this purpose she would use a small, sharp stone.

A transformation had come over her in the past few days. She had begun to wish to be useful, and to serve. She now addressed herself eagerly, happily, to small domestic tasks. Sometimes she sang softly to herself, in their performance. She seemed even concerned, oddly enough, as she was not my slave, with my comfort, this evidencing itself in such small matters as preparing my bed in the sand. To be sure, she found herself often enough on her belly on the blankets. This was very different from her early days in my keeping, when she, as a typical free woman of high station had regarded herself as too good for the performance of such homely tasks, addressing herself quickly enough to them only to avoid the imposition of sanctions upon her, attendant on her condition as captive. In the past few days a world of improvement had taken place within her. She responded well to male dominance, kept now in her place in nature. Only in that place, where she belongs, can a woman be truly happy.

I watched her kneeling by the stone, working on the grunts. She might have been a rence girl, and not Ina, the lovely scion of one of Ar's oldest and finest families.

For five days, as I had promised, I had tied her during our sleep periods, when not using her, in the same fashion in which I had been kept by the men of Ar, in effect, staked out, foot and neck, supine and helpless. That had been done as a discipline, and might, of course, if I chose, be promptly reimposed as such. Lately, however, I had given her a much more merciful tie, binding her ankles together with the center of a length of binding fiber, then bringing the two ends up and, still avoiding its ends, tying her hands together before her body, then pulling her hands back, close to her belly, and fastening them there, this accomplished by bringing the two ends of the fiber back about her and knotting them there, behind her back.

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