Magicians of Gor by John Norman Page B

shadows,
    difficult to make out, a slave girl, I could see the glint of her collar,
    writhed in a fellow’s arms. I wondered if he owned her, or had simply caught her
    in the darkness. She was gasping, and squirming, and clutching at him. Her head
    twisted back and forth in the dirt. Her small, sweet, bared legs thrashed. Such
    responsiveness, of course, is not unusual in a female slave. It is a common
    function of the liberation of bondage. It comes with the collar, so to speak.
    Indeed, if a new slave does not soon exhibit profound and authentic sexual
    responsiveness, which matter may be checked by the examination of her body,
    within, say, an Ahn or so, the master’s whip will soon inquire why. One blow of
    the whip is worth six months of coaxing. I though again of the captured free
    woman, she taken in the net. Doubtless, she, too, soon, given no choice, would
    become similarly responsive. Indeed, she, like other female slaves, would soon
    learn to be, and discover that she had become, perhaps to her initial dismay and
    horror, helplessly responsive to the touch of men, any man.
    The pair thrashed in the darkness. She was pinioned, she sobbed with joy.
    To be sure, if one prefers an inert, or frigid, or anesthetic, so to speak,
    woman, one may always make do with a free female, inhibited by her status, and
    such. They are plentiful, dismally so. Goreans, incidentally, doubt that any
    female is, qua female, (pg. 43) irremediably or ultimately frigid. It is a
    common observation, even on Earth, that one man’s petulant and frigid wife is
    another man’s, to be sure, a different sort of man’s. passionate, begging,
    obedient slave.
    “I yield me, Master!” wept the slave, softly.
    “It is known to me,” he said.
    “Yes, Master,” she said.
    I heard the sound of a tabor several yards away, and the swirl of a flute, and
    the clapping of hands.
    I went in that direction.
    “Marcus,” I said, pleased, finding him in the crowd there.
    “Women are dancing,” he said.
    “Superb,” I said.
    Behind Marcus was Phoebe, standing very straight, and very close to him, but not
    touching him. She was holding her lower lip between her teeth, presumably to
    help her keep control of herself. Also there was a little blood at the left side
    of her mouth. I gathered she must have dared in her need to brush hopefully or
    timidly against her master, or whimpered a bit more than he cared to hear.
    Indeed, perhaps she had even dared to importune him. Her wrists were still bound
    behind her. The lead on her leash looped up to Marcus’ grasp.
    “The camp is in a holiday mood,” I said.
    “Yes,” he said.
    I saw more than one fellow looking at Phoebe. She had marvelous legs and ankles,
    and a trim figure. She stood very straight. It was not difficult to tell now,
    even by glancing at her, that she was in need. One of the fellows looking her
    over laughed. Phoebe trembled, and bit her lip a little more.
    A fellow tore off the tunic of a slave girl and thrust her out, into the circle.
    “Aii!” cried men.
    The female danced.
    “I entered Phoebe in “meat catch,” ” said Marcus, “but she failed to catch even
    a single morsel.”
    “I am not surprised,” I said. “She can hardly stand.”
    “That one is pretty,” said Marcus. He referred to a redhead, thrust into the
    circle.
    “I had thought you might have taken Phoebe to the tent by now,” I said.
    “No,” said Marcus.
    There were now some four or five girls in the circle. One wore a sigh that said,
    “I am for sale.”
    Phoebe made a tiny noise.
    “I think Phoebe is ready for the tent now,” I said.
    “She did not even want to leave it,” said Marcus.
    “True,” I said.
    “Perhaps you should take Phoebe back to the tent,” I said. “She is hot.”
    “Oh?” asked Marcus.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “Perhaps I should put her into the circle,” he said.
    “She can scarcely move,” I said.
    “Oh,” he said. I think he was pleased.
    “She is in desperate