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.txt over my head, andbuckled under my chin.He threw me forward and I fell on the furs on my rightshoulder.He tied together my ankles.I sensed him move aside some furs.ThenI felt my body doubled up and my feet slipped inside the mouth of a slavesack.The sack was drawn up, over my body; I sat, doubled up; my head waspushed down a bit; the sack was drawn shut over my head and, with a snap,locked shut.Then to my wonder I heard him open a door.It must have been behind thehanging at the rear of the alcove.I felt the sack being lifted through theopening, and then it was dragged along a wooden-floored passage; then he threw it lightly to his shoulder, and began todescend short flights of stairs.I squirmed in the sack but was helpless.He was very strong.19I Bead A Necklace, And Am Then Used For Wench SportI was kneeling.I felt hands untying the binding fiber on my ankles, and at my wrists.The slave hood was unbuckled and pulled up, over and off my head.I could see!Its leather lay against my breasts, held by its attachments to the gag.Thegag straps were loosened.A hand extracted the heavy wadding, letting it fallopen, to dry.I almost vomited, freed of the gag.Then I put my head back, and breathed deeply.The hood and gag were thenpulled away.One of the men put them, with the binding fiber, in his belt.Twoother men crouched beside me.Two others stood nearby.The man on my left, inhis two hands, took my left wrist; the man on my right, with his two hands,took my right wrist.They stood, throwing me upright to my feet, between them.I was unclothed, save for the black, enameled, belied collar, and the black,enameled belled ankle ring, as I had been in the alcove of the Chatka andCurla.My face was red from the slave hood.My body was broken out from themoisture and heat of the slave sack.I stood between the two men, their hands on my wrists.I was in a torchlitanteroom, of large size.A long rug, some forty yards in length, narrow, red,led toward a large pair of white doors, which opened from the center.Twoguards, helmeted, with spears, stood at that door.There were shields andcrossed spears on either side of the door.I shrank back, looking at the tall doors.I felt pressure on my wrists."Come, Animal," said one of the men."Yes,Master," I whispered.By the wrists I was led toward the great door.I was very frightened, for Iknew these must be the men associated with the Mistress, Lady Elicia of Ar.They thought that I bore a message for them, but I did not.They would bedisappointed.They would be angry.Gorean males are not patient withdispleasing slave girls.I did not wish to be disfigured or tortured, orslain.I was innocent! Iwould plead my innocence! Perhaps then I would be only whipped.Page 226ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlThe doors were swung open by the helmeted guards.I was flung to my knees."Kiss the floor, Slave," said one of the men.I did so, my arms held high, straight behind me, thrusting me down.Thenagain, rudely, I was thrown to my feet and led into the room.It was a lofty, beautiful room, as though in a palace.It was floored withpurple, glossy tiles, broad and shining.There were slender, lofty whitepillars, golden hangings.I was led toward a dais on which a large, corpulentman sat, one of enormous weight, reclining on cushions.He wore white robes,stained with wine, swollen with fat, bordered in laced gold.His face washeavy, coarse, pitted where whiskers, one by one, had been pulled from it bytweezers.He was balding, and wore upon his head a crown of grape leaves, fromthe famed Ta grapes of the terraces of Cos.Isensed in him intelligence, vanity, wealth, cruelty and power.I saw that at the foot of the dais, before me, before where I now knelt,released by the men who had held me, there was a low table, and, on this tablethere were strands of thread and, in small cups, beads, wooden slave beads,beads of various colors, of many colors.I looked down at the low, wooden table, the beads in the tiny cups.Itrembled.It seemed I had knelt here before, or somewhere like this, in adream which had once tormented me in Tabuk's Ford.I wondered if I had ever knelt in such a place as this before, or if it weremerely the figment of a slave girl's dream.The dream had seemed real.Iwondered if it were in some odd sense a recollection or anticipation.Idismissed such nonsense from my mind.But the similarity of this setting tothat of the dream was uncanny and frightening.A slave whip, by one of the nearby men, was lifted before me.I then was trulyfrightened, for this, too, had been in the dream."What is this?" I knew a voice would ask.file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Slave%20Girl%20Of%20Gor.txt (169 of 227) [1/20/033:34:32 AM]file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Slave%20Girl%20Of%20Gor [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]