"But suppose a man particularly wanted a woman," I said. "Suppose she was, for some reason, very special to him. Perhaps she had been cruel to him. Perhaps he mightily desired her. He might then be tempted to pay at least a little more, might he not, to obtain her?"
"I suppose so," said Drusus Rencius, irritatedly.
"What did you pay?" I asked.
"It doesn't really make a difference, does it?" he asked.
"I suppose not," I said, "but I would like to know."
"I do not recall," he growled.
"Miles of Argentum," I said, "truly at one time believed me, and with good reason, from his point of view, to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus. For that reason he paid fifteen tarsks for me, fifteen silver tarsks."
"What an idiot," said Drusus Rencius, darkly.
I laughed. "Fortunately he was your friend," I said, "and for that reason would cheerfully accept a considerable loss in my resale."
"I paid more than fifteen silver tarsks for you," said Drusus Rencius.
I clapped my hands with pleasure. "I knew it must be so!" I laughed.
The face of Drusus Rencius was black with rage.
"What did you pay!" I asked. "What did you pay!"
"More than twenty tarsks," he said, angrily.
"How much!" I demanded. "How much!"
"I paid fifty silver tarsks for you!" he said, furiously.
"Fifty!" I cried.
"Yes!" he cried, in fury.
"Wonderful!" I laughed. "That is wonderful!"
He scowled at me fiercely.
"I am surely the poorest investment a man has ever made in a slave girl," I laughed. "You will have to keep me forever. You will never recoup that loss!"
"Oh!" I cried, thrown to my stomach on the love furs. Then my legs were thrust apart. Then as I gasped and clutched at the furs, almost before I could move, from behind, handled like the slave I was, I was pinioned, held and entered.
"You need not fear I will sell you," he said. "I have waited too long to possess you."
I squirmed, impaled.
"And do not worry about the economic aspects of the matter," he said. "You are going to make your sales price up to me in value, aren't you?"
"Yes," I said, "a thousand times!"
"Is that all?" he asked.
"A thousand times a thousand times!" I gasped.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"And more, and more, and more!" I cried.
"You will now move as I direct," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. "Yes, Master!"
* * * *
"I love you. I love you. I love you!" I moaned. "I love you so much I could die with the love of you."
Then his lips were again upon me.
It was now in the early light of morning. In a few hours he would leave for Ar. I would accompany him, perhaps even in his chains, his.
"You are doing it to me again!" I moaned.
"Be quiet," he whispered.
Then I melted to him again, soft and lost, held, in his arms, and then he swept me up again, will-less, his collared slave, like a swirling leaf high into the clouds of ecstasy, and love.
37
Afterword
Wars, I suppose, continue.
Who knows what knives are lifted, what secret, stealthy marches may be afoot?
But these things seem far away. Ar, in the evening, seems very beautiful. I must conclude this narrative now. I have been summoned to my master's couch. I hasten to obey.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1983 by John Norman
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-0039-3
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Kajira of Gor Page 57