Smugglers of Gor - By John Norman Page 0,119

switched. We are kajirae. Something was to my left in the forest, behind me, between myself and the broad ribbon of the Alexandra, now some half pasang distant. I could see four or five bodies through the trees, approaching, afoot. Shielding myself in the trees I remained absolutely still. I did not want this group, which seemed small, either behind me, following me, nor ahead of me, impeding my flight. I decided I would move north, and then west, taking care not to lose my relation to the Alexandra again. I moved back in the trees. The group was coming closer. There should be no one here, I thought, not this close to the wands. This must be something, I thought, independent of Shipcamp. I then heard, again, the stroke of the switch, this time twice. But I heard no cry of pain, no begging for forgiveness, no pleading to a master for mercy. This surprised me, for the switch is unpleasant and one will do much to avoid it, and the whip, of course, is worse. We are not free women. We strive to please our masters. It is no wonder we are so seldom punished. We do not wish to be punished. Still it is thrilling to know that one is owned, and will be punished, if one is not pleasing.

I could now see the group, clearly, some seventy to eighty feet from me. There were five in the group. To my astonishment there were no men in the group. Had I not heard the stroke of a switch? Each individual in the group, rather, was a woman, though there the similarity amongst them stopped. It was almost as if one were dealing with two different sorts of life.

The switch fell again, twice again, first on the second slave, and then on the first, hurrying them forward. “Harta!” I heard. “Hasten!” “Faster!” The two slaves were slight, and lovely, briefly tunicked, very briefly, and clearly collared. Both were such as might be well bid upon by men. Both were such, so female, so desirable, that they might expect the contempt and hatred of free women. Both, despite their beauty, were burdened, and, I suspected, excessively so. Marketable beauties, they were being utilized here as common draft slaves, as mere beasts of burden. How they must be hated, I thought. Each, in a common Gorean fashion, balanced her load, a large, canvas-covered, squarish, roped bundle, on her head. I thought they were overburdened. Their size and strength did not seem well proportioned to what they were given to bear. Each was serving as might a pack kaiila. I did not think masters would burden them so, unless as a discipline. They were roped together by the neck. And each, for some reason, was gagged. It was then obvious why I had heard no response to the striking of the switch.

The other women, there were three I saw, were quite different. The differences between the two sorts were radical, fearful, and unmistakable. The others were not burdened. They were large, strong, sturdy women. I was afraid of them for they reminded me, a little, in their stature, and power, of men. And I feared men, at least the men of this world, for they were masters, and I was not only a woman, but goods, a slave. In some respects they seemed neither male nor female, or, perhaps better, discontentedly, unwillingly, or unhappily female. Certainly they were very unlike Gorean free women. Surely they were dressed very differently. There was nothing here of layered, shimmering veils, of golden sandals, of cloaks, hoods and scarves, of jeweled purses, of the rich, flowing, colorful, intricately draped robes of concealment, common to the Gorean free woman. Too, there was nothing here of the grace, and beauty, and femininity, of the provocative softness, of the promise of secret delights, of the implicit, whispered needs, of the typical Gorean free woman, obvious even in, and perhaps even enhanced by, the robes of concealment. Yet I had little doubt that these unusual, different women, or creatures, I now looked upon were both Gorean and free. Certainly they carried themselves much as free men might, but, I thought, pretentiously so. Did they think they were men? They carried knives on a loop slung about their shoulder. They carried light spears. Their hair was bound back in talmits. On their necks there were no collars, but barbaric strings of claws. On their arms and wrists were golden bands.

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