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21 Mercenaries of Gor
John Norman
Chronicles of Counter-Earth Volume 21


1 What Occurred Outside Samnium
“I do not know about other women,” she said, “but I am one who wishes to belong
to a man, wholly,”
“Beware your words,” I cautioned her.
“I am a free woman,” she said. “I can speak as I please.”
I could not gainsay her in this. She was free. She could, accordingly, say what
she wished, and without requiring permission. She stood before me. She had dared
to brush back her hood. She had unpinned her shimmering veils, permitting them
to fall about her throat and shoulders. A soft movement of hands and a shake of
her head had thrown her long, dark hair behind her back. She had dark eyes. Her
face was softly rounded. It was delicate and beautiful.
“You have unpinned your veil,” I observed.
“Yes,” she said.
“You are brazen,” I said.
“Yes,” she said, insolently.
I mused, considering this. It is not difficult, of course, to take insolence
from a woman.
“Why have you unpinned your veil before me?” I asked.
“Perhaps you will like what you see,” she said.
“Bold female,” I observed.
She tossed her head, impatiently.
“Do you have the least inkling as to what it might be, to belong to a man,
wholly?”
“Do you find me pleasing?” she asked.
“Answer my question,” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
I wondered if this is true. It might be. She was Gorean.
(pg. 7) “Now, she said. “Answer mine!”
“Do not court an altercation in your condition, unless you are prepared to
accept it, in its full consequences,” I said.
She shuddered. She lowered her eyes. “It is said that there is in every woman
that which I sense so fearfully, yet longingly, in myself.”
“I wonder if that is true,” I said.
“I do not know,” she said, “but I know that it is in me, passionately, strongly,
irresistibly.”
“You are bold,” I said.
“A free woman may be bold,” she said.
“True,” I granted her.
“I need this for my fulfillment, to be one with myself,” she said.
“Speak clearly,” I said. She was free. I saw no point in making it easy for her.
“I want to be a total woman, in the order of nature,” she said.
I shrugged.
“My heart cries out,” she wept, “with the need to be accepted, to be acquired,
to be owned, to be mastered, to be forced to submit, to be forced to will-lessly
and selflessly serve and love!”