Beasts of Gor Read Online Free PDF Page A

will you mark her?” I asked.
    “The common Kajira brand,” he said.
    “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Give me my clothing,” she demanded angrily.
    Again the points of the two spears pressed against her abdomen. Again they penetrated the loosely woven cloth. Again she stepped back, for the moment disconcerted.
    I gathered that she had been accustomed to having her demands met by men.
    When a woman speaks in that tone of voice to a man of Earth he generally hastens to do her bidding. He has been conditioned so. Here, however, her proven Earth techniques seemed ineffectual, and this puzzled her, and angered her, and, I think, to an extent frightened her. What if men did not do her bidding? She was smaller and weaker, and beautiful, and desirable. What if she discovered that it were she, and not they, who must do now what was bidden, and with perfection? A woman who spoke in that tone to a Gorean man, if she were not a free woman, would find herself instantly whipped to his feet.
    Then she was again the woman of Earth, though clad in Gorean slave livery.
    “Return me to Earth,” she said.
    “Take her below to the pens,” said Samos, “and sell her off.”
    “What did he say!” she demanded.
    “Is she to be branded?” asked the guard.
    “Yes,” said Samos, “the common brand.”
    “What did he say!” she cried. Each of the two guards flanking her had now taken her by an arm. She looked very small between them. I thought the common Kajira mark would be exquisite in her thigh.
    “Left thigh,” I suggested.
    “Yes, left thigh,” said Samos to one of the guards. I liked the left-thigh branded girl. A right-handed master may caress it while he holds her in his left arm.
    “Give me back my clothing!” she cried.
    Samos glanced at the bundle of clothing. “Burn this,” he said.
    The girl watched, horrified, as one of the guardsmen took the clothing and, piece by piece, threw it into a wide copper bowl of burning coals. “No!” she cried. “No!”
    The two guards then held her arms tightly and prepared in conduct her to the pens.
    She looked with horror at the burnt remnants, the ashes, of her clothing.
    She now wore only what Gorean men had given her, a scrap of slave livery, and a ring hammered about her neck.
    She threw her head about, moving the ring. For the first time she seemed truly aware of it.
    She looked at me, terrified. The guards’ hands were on her upper arms. Their hands were tight.
    “What are they going to do!” she cried.
    “You are to be taken to the pens,” I said.
    “The pens!” she asked.
    “There,” I said, “you will be stripped and branded.”
    “Branded?” she said. I do not think she understood me. Her Earth mind would find this hard to understand. She was not yet cognizant of Gorean realities. She would learn them swiftly. No choice would be given her.
    “Is she to be sold red-silk?” I asked Samos.
    He looked at the girl. “Yes,” he said. The guards grinned. It would be a girl who knew herself as a woman when she ascended the block.
    “I thought you said I would be stripped and branded,” she said, laughing.
    “Yes,” I said, “that is precisely what I said.”
    “No!” she screamed. “No!”
    “Then,” I said, “you will be raped, and taught your womanhood. When you have learned your womanhood, you will be caged. Later you will be sold.”
    “No!” she cried. “No!”
    “Take her away,” said Samos.
    The guards’ hands tightened even more on the beauty’s arms. She might as well have been bound in steel. She must go as they conducted her. “Wait! Wait!” she cried. She struggled, squirming in their grasp, her feet slipping on the tiles. Samos motioned that they wait, momentarily. She looked at me, and at Samos, wildly. “What place is this?” she asked.
    “It is called Gor,” I told her.
    “No!” she said. “That is only in stories!”
    I smiled.
    “No!” she cried. She looked about herself, at the strong men who