Hunters of Gor Read Online Free PDF Page B

today.
    Sheera is selling. How much am I bid?”
    “I had hoped to meet Verna,” I said.
    “Verna I have heard,” volunteered Rim, “sells by far the best merchandise.”
    I smiled. I recalled that it had been Verna and her band that Rim had been sold.
    Rim, for an outlaw, was not a bad sort.
    “We sell what we catch,” said Sheera. “Sometimes chain luck is with Verna,
    sometimes it is not.” She looked at me. “What am I bid for the two slaves?” she
    asked.
    I lifted my eyes to regard the two miserable wretches bound in the frames.
    They had been much beaten, and long and heavily worked. The fierce women had
    doubtless raped them many times.
    They were not my purpose in coming to the exchange point, but I did not wish to
    leave them at the mercy of the panther girls. I would bid for them.
    Sheera was regarding Rim closely. She grinned. She jabbed at him with her knife.
    “You,” she said, “have worn the chains of panther girls!”
    “It is not impossible,” conceded Rim.
    Sheera, and the girls, laughed.
    “You are an interesting fellow,” said Sheera, to Rim. “It is fortunate for you,
    that you are at the exchange point. Else we might be tempted to put our chains
    on you.” She laughed. ”I think I might enjoy trying you,” she said.
    “Are you any good?” asked one of the girls, of Rim.
    “Men,” said Sheera, “make delightful slaves.”
    “Panther girls,” said Rim, “do not make bad slaves either.”
    Sheera’s eyes flashed. She jabbed the knife into the sand, to the hilt. “Panther
    girls,” she hissed, “ do not make slaves!”
    It did not seem opportune to mention to Sheera that, aboard the Tesephone, nude,
    chained in the first hold, in gags and slave hoods, were two panther girls. I
    had kept them below decks, secured, and in gags and slave hoods, that they not
    be seen, nor heard to cry out, at the exchange point. I did not wish their
    presence, nor an indication of their presence, to complicate our dealings at the
    point. After I had interrogated them thoroughly, I would sell them in Lydius.
    “You mentioned,” said I to Sheera, “that you are an enemy of Verna?”
    “I am her enemy,” said Sheera.
    “We are anxious to make her acquaintance,” said I, “Do you know perhaps where
    she might be found?”
    Sheera’s eyes narrowed. “Anywhere,” she said.
    “I have heard,” I said, “that Verna and her band sometimes roam north of Laura.”
    The momentary flash in the eyes of Sheera had told me what I wanted to know.
    “Perhaps,” she said, shrugging.
    The information about Verna’s band I had had from a girl who had been recently
    slave in my house, a wench named Elinor. She now belonged to Rask of Treve.
    The inadvertent response in Sheera’s eyes had confirmed this belief.
    It was, of course, one thing to know this general manner of thing, and another
    to find Verna’s band’s camp, or their dancing circle. Each band of panther girls
    customarily had a semi-permanent camp, particularly in the winter, but, too,
    each band, customarily, had its own dancing circle. Panther girls, when their
    suppressed womanhood becomes sometimes too painful, repair to such places, there
    to dance the frenzy of their needs. But, too, it is in such places, that the
    enslavement of males is often consummated.
    Rim had been captured by Verna and her band, but he had been chained, raped and
    enslaved, not far from the very exchange point where he was sold, this very
    point. He knew less than I of the normal habits of Verna and her band. We both
    knew, of course, that she, with her girls, ranged widely.
    “Verna’s camp,” I said to Sheera, matter-of-factly, “is not only north of Laura,
    but to its west.”
    She seemed startled. Again I read her eyes. What I had said had been mistaken.
    Verna’s camp, then, lay to the north and east of Laura.
    “So you wish to bid on the slaves or not?” asked Sheera.
    I smiled.
    “Yes,” I said.
    I now had as much information as I had