Renegades of Gor by John Norman Page A

left the inn.”
    “There seems a point then in having you chained here,” I said, “aside, of
    course, from such things as having you brought to the attention of fellows who
    might redeem you and making clear the inn’s disapproval of attempted fraud,
    namely, that you might serve as a warning to other free women, women who might
    otherwise have been tempted try similar tricks.”
    “If we are not redeemed, what will be done with us?” wailed the fourth girl.
    “Surely you can guess,” I said.
    “No! No! No!” she cried, in misery.
    “Redeem me!” begged the fifth girl. “I will make it worth your while, handsome
    fellow.”
    “Slave!” cried the first woman, angrily, to the fifth woman.
    “Slave! Slave!” said, too, the second woman to the fifth.
    “Come now,” I said to the first and second woman, “she is not a slave—yet.’
    “Yet!” cried the fourth woman.
    Too, I was amused that the first and second woman seemed to think that slaves
    might bargain. They had a typical free woman’s misconception of what was
    involved in total female slavery. The slave is owned. She does not bargain. She
    owes all to the master, and gives all to the master. She strives to be fully
    pleasing, in all ways, and hopes desperately that she will prove so. Perhaps
    they would learn that sometime.
    “I am not like these other women,” said the first woman, suddenly. “Redeem me!
    Some women, such as these, doubtless, have made a way of life of what you refer
    to as tricks. I (pg. 45) have not! This is the first time I have ever had
    recourse to such fraud!”
    The other women cried out angrily in their chains.
    “Once is enough,” I told the first woman.
    “It costs only forty tarsks to redeem me!” she said.
    “You would probably bring more than that in a slave market,” I said.
    “Please!” she wept.
    “I would cost only twenty-seven tarsks to redeem!” called the fourth girl.
    “Redeem me,” said the second woman. “I am of high caste. Consider the glory of
    redeeming a woman of high caste!”
    “The slave,” I said, “has no caste, no more than a verr or tarsk.”
    The woman cried out in misery, helpless in the shackles.
    “I am shapely, and blond,” said the third woman, suddenly. “Redeem me!”
    “Slave!” chided the fifth woman.
    “Slave!” retorted the third.
    “I do not want to be a slave!” cried the first woman.
    “Obviously you are not a slave,” I said, “for you have no wish to be pleasing.”
    “I have slave needs, I confess it!” cried the fifth woman.
    “I find that of interest,” I said.
    “I, too, have slave needs!” cried the fourth woman.
    I had not doubted that. There was something about her body, which seemed
    lusciously slavelike.
    “I, too!” suddenly wept the third woman. I regarded her. I thought she would
    indeed move well in a man’s bonds.
    “But I do want to be pleasing!” said the first woman.
    I looked at her.
    “Do not consider her,” said the second woman. “Redeem me! I, too, have slave
    needs! I confess it! I have slave needs!”
    “I, too, have slave needs!” suddenly cried the first woman.
    “You?” I asked, as though skeptically.
    “Yes!” she wept. “Yes!”
    The first time I had laid eyes on her, of course, I had seen that she was born
    for silk.
    (pg.46)”Let me kiss you!” cried the fifth woman.
    The others gasped in astonishment, in anger, in protest, in indignation, in
    outrage, at her boldness.
    “Taste me,” called the fifth woman, enticingly.
    “Slut! Slut!” cried the other women.
    It had been a slave’s invitation. I wondered where the free woman had heard it.
    Not all free women are as ignorant as many men believe. There had been many
    indications that the fifth woman’s slavery was very close to the surface. To be
    sure, she may have often fought it. I did not know.
    “The eager lips of a free woman await you,” called the fifth woman.
    I went to stand before the fifth woman and she, pulling at her chains,