| “I know females,” said Boabissia. “I am one of them. If you are weak with them, they will take away your manhood and destroy you. If you are strong with them, they will lick your feet with gratitude.” She touched the body of the female slave with the whip. “Is it not so?” she asked the girl.
“Yes, Mistress,” wept the girl. “If you are not strict with slaves,” said Boabissia, “they will grow lax, and then arrogant, and then begin to assume the airs of free persons.” “I suppose that is true,” I said. “They must be kept under perfect discipline,” said Boabissia, “absolutely uncompromising and perfect discipline.” “Of course,” I said. Boabissia drew back the whip. How she hated the female slave. It is sometimes hard to understand the hatred of the free female for her imbonded sister. It has to do, I suppose, with the venomous jealousy of a woman who has taken an unhappy path, a road commended to her by many but one which she has discovered leads only to her ultimate frustration, misery and lack of fulfillment. No woman is truly happy until she occupies her place in the order of nature. “Do not strike her,” I said. “I am a free woman,” said Boabissia, “and I shall do as I please.” “Do not strike her,” said Hurtha. “Come along.” “Men are weak,” said Boabissia. “I will teach you what women deserve, and need.” Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 218 - 219 I fetched the key. I returned to where she knelt, shackled. I looked down upon her. I wondered if there would be point in having her, here, suddenly, on the floor of the insula’s vestibule, before I unshackled her. She was very beautiful. “Master?” she asked. I thrust her back to the floor, in a rattle of chain. “Oh!” she cried. It did not matter. She was only a slave. “Oh!” she gasped, and then was clutching me. “Disgusting,” said a free woman, entering the insula, and then proceeding upstairs. Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 293 “If it is of interest to you,” he said, “I did not simply buy you. Although your mother was a free woman I had her strip, and then put her through slave paces. I would attempt to assess the possibilities of the daughter by seeing the mother, by seeing her naked and performing, attempting desperately to please. When she was reluctant, as a free woman, I used the whip on her. Thus I obtained a better idea of what I might be buying.” “Tell me about my mother, please,” she said. “She was a comely wench, as I determined, when I saw her naked,” he said. “She was curvaceous, and, when she realized I would not compromise with her, moved quite well. She herself, I am sure, under a suitable master, would have made excellent collar meat. She would also make, it seemed to me, an excellent breeder of slaves.” Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 303 “Why not train her?” I asked. “Training would be inappropriate for her, as she is a free woman,” said my hostess. “Too, it might scandalize and horrify her. We would certainly not want that. Too, it is not likely that it would even be fully meaningful to her, as she is free, and would thus not be able to understand it as it is meant to be understood, in the helpless depths of an owned belly.” Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 316 “You are not interested in free females?” she said. “Not particularly,” I reminded her. This is not that unusual in one who has tasted of slaves. As women, there is no comparison between a free woman and her imbonded sister. Perhaps that is why free women so hate slaves. To be sure, there is something to be said for free women. It is enjoyable to capture, enslave and train them. That is interesting. But then, of course, in a matter of time, one is not then dealing any longer with a free woman, but only another slave. Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 319 “Would you care to join me?” I asked. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It would not be proper. I do not even know you.” “Forgive me,” I said. “I did not mean to be forward.” She moved her left foot a little, causing the bangles on her left ankle to move slightly. Most free women, of course, would never wear such things. They are regarded as suitable and appropriate only for slaves. She moved the bracelets on her left wrist up her left forearm an inch or two. The tiny noise this made was exciting, slave exciting. With one hand she threw her hair back. It was loose. Slaves commonly wear their hair loose. She moved subtly, charmingly, seemingly inadvertently, within the dress. Then she seemed, suddenly, concerned with it. Could there be something wrong with it? She then, almost apologetically, adjusted one of shoulder straps of the dress, pulling it up tighter and more to the side. She did this as though not giving it much thought, and as though modestly, but in such a way, with such a movement of her body, and with such an effect, that she called dramatic and inevitable attention to the marvelousness of her breasts. Such breasts, I thought, would probably increase her value as a slave. Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 343 - 344 Page35 |