"John Norman - Gor 12 - Beasts of Gor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

"Position," I said.
Swiftly she assumed the position of the pleasure slave. She knelt back on her heels, her knees
wide, her hands on her thighs, her back straight, her head up. She was terrified. I looked down at
her.
I crouched before her, and took her by the arms. I was covered with the blood of the sleen.
"Master?" she asked. I put her to her back on the tiles in the sleen's blood. I held her so she
could not move, and entered her. "Master?" she asked, frightened. I began to caress her from
within, deeply, with my manhood. The warm closeness of her body, so beautiful, so helpless, that
of an owned slave, clasped me. She began to respond to me, frightened.
"You labor still for Kurii," I said.
"No, Master," she wept, "no!"
I felt her spasmodically squirm beneath me. "Nor she wept. Her haunches shuddered.
"Yes," I said.
"No," she said, "no, Master!"
"The beast must have been put upon my scent," I said.
"I am innocent!" she said. Then she writhed beneath me. "Please do not make me yield to you this
way, Master," she wept. "Oh," she cried. "Oh!"
"Speak," I told her.
She closed her eyes. "Have mercy!" she begged.
"Speak." I told her.
"I was taking the tunics to the tubs," she said. "I would have put them in with the others!" She
half reared up beneath me, struggling, her eyes open and wild. She was strong for a girl, but
girls are weak. I thrust her back down, shoulders and hair into the blood. Her head was back. She
writhed, impaled and held. How weak she was. How futile were her struggles.
"There is no escape," I told her. "You are mine.
"I know," she said. "I know."
"Speak further," I said.


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"Oh," she cried. "Oh!" Then she wept, "Please, Master, do not make me yield this way!"
"Speak further," I said.
"I was tricked," she cried. "Bertram of Lydius, in the halls, followed me. I thought little of it.
I thought only he wanted to see my body move in the livery of the house, that he only followed me
as a man will upon occasion follow a slave girl, idly, for the pleasure in seeing her."
"And this flattered you, did it not, you slut?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said. "I am a slave girl."
"Go on," I said.
"Please, Master," she wept, clutching me. "Oh, oh!" she cried.
"Go on," I said.
"Yes," she cried, angrily. "I was pleased! He was handsome, and strong, and Gorean, and I was a
female slave. I thought he might ask for my use, and that it would be granted him by you in Gorean
courtesy!"
It was true. Had a guest expressed interest in Vella, Elizabeth, a former secretary from Earth,
one of my slaves, I would surely have given her to him for his night's pleasure. And if he were
not fully pleased, I would have had her whipped in the morning.
"He spoke to me," she said. "so I turned and knelt before him, the tunics clutched in my arms.
'You are pretty,' he said to me. This pleased me." Slave girls relish compliments. Indeed, there