Plunder of Gor by John Norman Page B

world!”
    â€œYour serious training will take place in one of several houses,” he said. “We supply such houses. Some houses conduct their own sales; others commonly have arrangements with independent markets.”
    I shuddered.
    â€œAre you cold?” he asked.
    I nodded. I wore only the silk nightgown.
    He removed his jacket, and put it about me.
    We then remained silent, as before. We had not been permitted to speak.
    The van sped on.

Chapter Five
    The van had slowed, and turned, and was now jolting over a rough surface. We drove for some twenty or thirty minutes. There were apparently dips in the road. We occasionally heard branches brush the sides and roof of the vehicle.
    The van stopped.
    â€œWe must clear the gate,” said the fellow with us. “There are hidden surveillance cameras, the fence is charged.”
    I assumed that this, the clearing or whatever it might be, would be done from the outside, or that the men in the cab would attend to it. Certainly our captor showed no indication of leaving us alone in the van. Unattended, even handcuffed together, might we not have attempted flight?
    But I was afraid that Paula, even given such an opportunity, might have dallied, or, if she ran, it would have been merely for my sake, that I might not have been impeded.
    Did she long to be on a chain? Did she hope to belong to a man, categorically, as no more than his possession?
    He lifted the lid of a box to his left.
    I did not understand this.
    We heard a creaking, as of the swinging of two large objects, presumably the leaves of a gate.
    The man with us reached into the box to his left, and withdrew two objects, apparently of pliant, folded leather.
    The van moved a little ahead, and then stopped again.
    One of the two men in the cab, I gathered, had left the vehicle.
    â€œWe have cleared the gate,” said the man with us. He shook out the two objects he had removed from the box to his left. They were leather and sacklike; each had a short belt threaded through leather belt loops. I noted, as well, on each object, two rings, and what appeared to be a small lock of some sort.
    I was uneasy.
    We heard the creaking sound again, followed by a sound of joining and locking metal, and a rattle of chain.
    â€œYou are going to be hooded,” said the man with us. “Hold still.”
    The leather, sacklike thing was drawn over my head, and, with the belt, drawn shut under my chin. It was apparently buckled shut. Then I heard a tiny sound of metal, and the click of a small lock.
    I could see nothing. I felt helpless. I wanted to scream with fear. I put my right hand to the apparatus, fumbling at the buckle behind my neck.
    â€œPut your hand down, kajira,” he said. “You cannot remove it. It is locked on you.”
    I would soon grow accustomed to such devices, and how helpless I would be in them.
    I lowered my hand. My name was not ‘Kajira’. It was ‘Phyllis’, ‘Phyllis’!
    I could clearly hear Paula being served with a similar device.
    A moment or two later the fellow who had left the vehicle returned. We heard the door of the cab close.
    The van then lurched ahead, again.
    A minute or two later it stopped, again, and, a moment later, we sensed the fellows in the cab leave the vehicle.
    I felt the jacket removed from my shoulders. I felt chilly. I wore only the nightgown. My knees were drawn up, as I sat on the van floor. I was barefoot. I supposed our captor then donned the jacket.
    Shortly thereafter we heard the gate at the back of the van lifted. I felt cold air rush into the vehicle. It might still be dark. I did not know. I shivered.
    â€œTwo,” said a voice.
    â€œOn your feet, kajirae,” said our captor. “Move to the door; you will be lifted to the walkway.”
    I moved gingerly toward the opening, Paula drawn hesitantly, cautiously, after me, by her right wrist.
    I was taken into someone’s arms, powerful, masculine arms,