As our canoe moved away we looked back. “After them!” cried the girl. She slipped from her chains and bent to the grass beside her, seizing up a light
spear. From the, brush about her appeared numbers of girls similarly. clad and armed. We saw canoes being thrust into the water.
“Perhaps now you will paddle with a better will,” I said.
“Yes, Master!” said Janice.
There were now some eight canoes behind us. In each canoe there were five or six girls. In the prow of the first canoe was the blond girl who had
seemed to be chained at the post. In the prow of the second was the slender-legged, dark-haired girl whom we had seen earlier. She still had the
dangling ropes knotted on her wrists.
“Will they overtake us?” cried Alice.
“It is unlikely,” I said. “In no canoe there are there more than six paddlers. In this canoe, too, there are six paddlers, and three of these are men.”
In less than a quarter of an Ahn we had considerably lengthened our lead on our pursuers;
“Do you not recall, Janice,” I asked, “in one of the villages long ago, one of the men inquired if you were a taluna?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Those behind us,” I said, “are talunas.” Explorers of Gor, page 388
Then, to my surprise, when she stood safe, trembling beside me, the small men crowded about her and knelt down, putting their heads to the ground.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
“They are showing you respect or obeisance,” I said.
“I do not understand,” she said, frightened.
“Of course!” I said. “Now it is clear!”
“What?” she asked, frightened.
“Stand! Stand!” I told the small men. “Get up! Get up!”
Terrified, the small men rose to their feet.
I looked at Janice, harshly. “Are you not a slave girl in the presence of free men?” I asked.
“Forgive me, Master,” she cried. Swiftly she knelt. The small men regarded her, startled and frightened.
“Put your head to their feet,” I said. “Kiss their feet. Beg their forgiveness for the affront you have shown them.”
Janice put down her head and kissed the feet of the small men. “Forgive me, Masters,” she begged.
They looked at her in wonder.
“Get up,” I told the girl. I then, roughly, tied her hands together behind her back. The small men gathered around, seeing that her hands, truly, were
“This is a slave,” I told them.
They spoke quickly among themselves. It was not in Gorean.
“We are the slaves of the talunas,” said one of the men. their leader.
I nodded. I had thought so, from their behavior. It was from the talunas, too, doubtless, that they had learned their Gorean.
“We fish and hunt for them, and make cloth, and serve them,” said one of the men.
“Men should not be the slaves of women,” I said. “Women should be the slaves of men.”
“We are small,” said a man. “The talunas are too large and strong for us.”
“They may be taken. and made slaves, as any women.” I said.
“Help us to rid ourselves of the talunas,” said the leader.
“I have business on the river,” I said. Explorers of Gor, page 392-393
Lightly I dropped down within the stockade of the talunas. It contained several small, thatched huts. It was not difficult to see in the light of the three
I made my way quietly, crawling, stopping upon occasion to listen, toward the more central huts. In one of the huts, one with a door tied shut from the
outside, I heard a rustle of chain.
I picked that hut which seemed the largest and most impressive, one in the center of the camp.
On my belly, quietly, I entered it. Moonlight filtered in through the thatched roof and between the sticks which formed the sides of the hut. She was
sleeping within, in her brief skins. Her weapons were at the side of the hut. She lay on a woven mat, her blond hair loose about her head. I examined
her thighs, moving back the skins she wore. They had never been branded. She turned, restlessly. She was the girl who had feigned being chained at
the post, to lure us into a trap. She was, I was sure, the leader of the talunas. She had given commands in our pursuit. She did not share her hut with
another girl. She threw her arm restlessly over her head. I saw her hips move. I smiled. She was a woman in need. She moaned. I waited until her arms
were again at her sides, and she lay upon her back. I saw her lift her haunches in her sleep. She was starved for a man´s touch. Such women, in their
waking hours, are often tense and restless; it is not unusual, too, for them to be irritable; and many times they are hostile toward men; many times
they are not even fully aware of the underlying causes of their uncomfortable conscious states; how horrified they might be if they were told that they
were women, and desired a master; yet must they not, on some level, be aware of this; would not their hostility toward the male who does not
understand their needs or is too cowardly or weak to satisfy them not be otherwise inexplicable; what other hurt could the uncooperative male be
inflicting upon them; the more he tries to please them the more they demand; the more he tries to do what they claim to wish the more he finds himself
disparaged and despised; can he not see that what they really want is to be thrown to his feet and subjected, totally, to his will? They wish to be
women, that is all. But how can they be women if men will not be men? How cruel a man is to deny to a woman the deepest need of her womanhood.
Can they not care for them? Can they not see how beautiful they are, and how marvelous?
But I steeled myself against thoughts of mercy for the blond beauty. She was an enemy.
Her head was then turned to the side. She twisted restlessly in her sleep.
I waited until her head was back, and she lay upon her back, her arms at her side. Her small fists were clenched. She whimpered, needing a man.
She was indeed beautiful. I thought she would look well naked, on a slave block.
Swiftly I knelt across her body, pinning her down, pinning her arms to her sides. Almost instantly, frightened, she wakened. The trapped girl´s first
impulse is to scream. This may be depended upon. As her mouth opened I, with my thumb, thrust the rolled-cloth wadding deep into it. In a moment I
had lashed it in place. I then threw her to her stomach and tied her hands behind her back. I then put her again on her back. Her eyes were wild,
terrified, over the gag. With my knife I cut the skins from her. “You will not be needing these,” I told her. I regarded her. Such women bring high prices. I
took her in my arms. Her eyes were frightened. She shook her head fiercely, negatively. But her body, as though in sudden relief, desperately clasped
me. She twisted her head to the side, and then, again, looked at me. She shook her head, negatively. But her body thrust itself against me, asking no
quarter, piteously and helplessly soliciting its full impalement. “Very well,” I told her. She looked at me in fury. “Your eyes say, ‘No,´” I told her “but your
body says ‘Yes.´” Her hips and thighs then began to move. She put back her head in misery on the mat. Then, in a moment, there were tears in her
eyes, and she tried to lift her head and gagged mouth to touch me. When later I crouched over her she sat up, shuddering, and put her cheek to my left
shoulder. I felt the lashings of the gag against my shoulder.
I thrust her to her back on the mat. “You are only bait,” I told her. I then tied her ankles together and, putting her over my shoulders, her head hanging
down over my back, left the hut. I left by way of the stockade gate. I would leave an obvious trail.Explorers of Gor, page 395-396-397
I took two pair of slave bracelets from the foot of the taluna camp. Girls such as talunas keep such things about in case slave girls should fall into their
hands. They are extremely cruel to slave girls, whom they regard as having betrayed their sex by surrendering as slaves to men. Actually, of course, it
seems likely that their hatred of slave girls, which tends to be unreasoning and vicious, is due less to lofty sentiments than to their own intense jealousy
of the joy and fulfillment of their imbonded sisters. The joyful slave girl, obedient to her master's wishes, is an affront and, more frighteningly, an
unanswerable and dreadful threat to their most cherished illusions. Perhaps they wish to be themselves slaves. Why else should they hate them so?
I slipped the straps on the wrists of the blond girl a bit higher on her wrists. I then, below the straps, snapped her wrists into one of the pairs of slave
bracelets from the loot of the taluna camp. I then untied the straps which had, hitherto, confined her wrists. Her hands, then, were still fastened behind
her, but now in slave bracelets. Explorers of Gor, page 407
The wharves were busy. I saw two slave girls, nude and chained, being delivered to a ship.
The talunas, last night, in a lot, had been sold to the black slavers of Schendi. The entire lot had gone for only two silver tarsks. I had then seen them,
one by one, heads down, crawl to the slave circle. There they had rendered submission to men. They were then placed in wrist and throat coffle, their
left wrists linked by one chain, their fair throats by another, and led away. They would be kept for a time in one of the underground pens beneath one
of the fortresses of the black slavers. They would be given balms for their backs and oils for their blistered hands, and taught the duties of slaves. In a
few weeks they would be ready, healed and cleaned, and to some extent trained, for the northern markets. Girls such as talunas, silked and perfumed,
and placed under the iron will of a man, make superb slaves. Explorers of Gor, page 458
|This research is done on the series of books written by John Norman, the comments in italics are mine and my point of view.
Woman of Gor
|Free Women of Different Cultures