07Captive

~Captive of Gor~
Written by John Norman
(Copyright 1972 by John Norman)
(Ballantine Books)

~Back Cover~
Spoiled, rich young Elinor Brinton was no longer on Earth. She had been kidnapped from her New York apartment and carried across space to Gor by alien slavers.
Then the ship was wrecked and she was stranded on the strange world of Counter-Earth, where women were only property, to be beaten and subjugated at the will of the men who were their Masters.
Life to her became a never-ending nightmare.
In the great luxury city of Ko-ro-ba, she was trained in the provocative skills of a pleasure slave. In the Northern Forests of Gor, she was captured by the fierce outlaw Panther Girls.
And finally came Rask of Treve to teach her what all women should learn!

~Inside~
The Panther Girl carried herself arrogantly before the bound and helpless men, taunting them with her beauty and her spear. She jabbed at them, and a stain of blood showed on more than one tunic.
"Men!" she laughed contemptuously, and turned away from them.
I saw the men struggle, but they could not free themselves.
Then she was standing before me. She appraised me, as might have a slaver. "Kajira," she said. "Slave!"
Without looking back, she strode from the camp. Her girls followed her. The choke leash slid shut on my throat. Stripped and gagged, my hands bound behind me, I was dragged after them toward the darkness of the forest.

~Quotations from the book, Captive of Gor~

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"Laura is a small trading city, a river port, whose buildings are largely of wood, consisting mostly it seems of warehouses and taverns."
~Captive of Gor, page 59~

"A Gorean slave, incidentaly, always addresses free men as "Master" and all free woman as "Mistress."
~Captive of Gor, page 73~

"A Gorean slave girl in the presence of a free man or woman, always kneels unless excused from doing so." ~Captive of Gor, page 73~

"Where you ever happy with a master?" I asked acidly.
"Oh yes," said Ute. Her eyes shone.
I looked at her disgustedly. "What happened?" I asked.
She looked down. "I tried to bend him to my will," she said. "He sold me."
~Captive of Gor, page 83~

"The Building where I would wait on these days was the house of a physician. I was taken through a corridor to a special, rough room, where slaves were treated. There my camisk would be removed. On the first day the physician, a quiet man in the green garments of his caste, examined me, thoroughly. The instruments he used, the tests he performed, the samples he required were not unlike those of Earth……………. Further, certain pieces of his instrumentation were clearly far from primitive. For example, there was a small machine with gauges and dials. In this he would place slides, containing drops of blood and urine, flecks of tissue, a strand of hair. With a stylus he would note readings on the machine, and, on a small screen at the top of the machine, I saw, vastly enlarged, what reminded me of an image witnessed under a microscope. He would briefly study this image, and then make further jottings with his stylus………..When he was finished he mixed several powders in three or four goblets, adding water to them and stirring them. These I was ordered to drink."
~Captive of Gor page. 92 & 93~

"When he was finished he mixed several powders in three or four goblets, adding water to them and stirring them. These I was ordered to drink. The last was particularly foul.
"She requires the Stabilization serums," said the physician. The guard nodded.
"They are administered in four shots," said the physician.
He nodded to a heavy, beamed, diagonal platform in a corner of the room.
The guard took me and threw me, belly down, on the platform, fastening my wrists over my head and widely apart, in leather wrist straps. He similarly secured my ankles. The physician was busying himself with fluids and a syringe before a shelf in another part of the room, laden with vials.
I screamed. The shot was painful. It was entered in the small of my back, over the left hip.
They left me secured to the table for several minutes and then the physician returned to check on the shot. There had been, apparently, no unusual reaction."
~Captive of Gor; Page 93 and 94~

“Perhaps you will be purchased as a serving slave or a tower slave”………“I think I will be purchased for a pleasure slave.”
~Captive of Gor, page 101~

"Others played "Stones," where one player guesses the number of stones held in the other's hand."
~Captive of Gor, page 107~

"He suddenly snapped his fingers and, in the swift double gesture of the Gorean Master, pointed to a place on the dirt floor before him, almost simultaneously turning his hand, spreading the first and index fingers, pointing downwards.
I fled to him and knelt before him, my knees in the dirt, in the position of the pleasure slave, my head down, trembling."
~Captive of Gor, page 143~

"I knelt on the low wooden platform, while one of the leather workers, with a long needle, approached my face. ............I closed my eyes.
No anesthetic was used, for I was a slave, but it was not particularly painful....The leather worker then went to the other side of the platform. There were tears in my eyes, for my eyes smarted. I felt the second pain, sharp, followed by an unpleasant burning sensation.
The leather worker stood up. My ears had been pierced.
The girls, in line, kneeling, cried out, whimpering and shuddering. Guards stood on either side of the line.....He then fixed two tiny steel rods, with threaded ends, through the wounds. To each end of each of the rods he threaded a tiny steel disk, that the tiny rods might be held in the wounds. The disks and rods would be removed in four days."
~Captive of Gor, page 157~

"In his hand he held something which looked like a pair of pliers, except that the claws were extremely slender, and bent in such a way as to touch one another, at the tips scarcely more than a needle's width.
“What is that?” I asked.
“A punch,” said Targo.
“Put your head back,” said the leather worker.....
I felt the back of the claws of the punch enter my nostrils, distending them. There was a tiny, sharp click. Tears burst into my eyes. I felt acute pain for an instant, and then a prolonged, burning, stinging sensation.…...
I saw the leather worker approaching my face with a tiny, steel ring, partly opened, and a pair of pliers.
As I was held he inserted the ring in my nose. It was painful. Then, with the pliers, he closed the ring, and turned it, so that its opening, where the closed edges met, was concealed within, at the side of the septum."
~Captive of Gor, pages 163-165~

"The piercing of the ears is far more terrible.....Nose rings are nothing. They are even pretty. In the south even the free women of the Wagon Peoples wear nose rings."
~Captive of Gor, page 166~

"There is little known even of the city of Treve. It lay somewhere among the lofty, vast terrains of the rugged Voltai, perhaps as much a fortress, a lair, of outlaw tarnsmen as acity. It was said to be accessible only on tarnback……..The location of the city, it was said was known only to her own. Even girls brought to Treve as slaves, did not know wherein lay the city in which they served. And even should they be dispatched to the walls, they could see, for looming, remote pasangs about them only the wild blead crags of the scarlet Voltai, and the sickening drop below them, the sheer fall from the walls and the cliffs below to the valley, pasangs beneath."
~Captive of Gor, page 191~

"I went to Targo, trembling and knelt at his feet, my head to the boards of the floor......I crossed my wrists beneath me and touched my head to the floor, exposing the bow of my back. It is the submissive posture of a slave girl who is to be punished. It is called Kneeling to the Whip."
~Captive of Gor, page 200~

"Who?" she demanded.
"I did" I cried, "I did!"
"Speak as a slave!" demanded Ute.
"El-in-or betrayed Ute!" I cried, "El-in-or betrayed Ute!"
~Captive of Gor, page 287~

"Four men held me, naked, near the brazier. I could feel the heat blazing from the cannister. The sky was very blue, the clouds were white.
    “Please, no!” I wept.
    I saw Rask, with a heave glove, draw forth one of the irons from the fire. It reminated in a tiny letter, not more that a quarter of an inch high. The letter was white hot. “This is a penalty brand,” he said. “It marks you as a liar.”
   “Please, Master!” I wept.
    “I no longer have patience with you,” he said. “Be marked as what you are.”
    I screamed uncontrollably as he pressed in the iron, holding it firmly into my leg. Then, after some two to four Ihn, he removed it. I could not stop screaming with pain. I smelled the odor of burned flesh, my own. I began to whimper. I could not breathe. I gasped for breath. Still the men held me.
    “This penalty brand,” said Rask of Treve, lifting another iron from the brazier, again with a tiny letter at its glowing termination, “marks you also as what you are, as a thief.”
    “Please, no, Master!” I wept.
    I could not move a muscle of my left leg. It might as well have been locked in a vise. It must wait for the iron.
    I screamed again, uncontrollably. I had been branded as a thief.
    “This third iron,” said Rask of Treve, “is, too, a penalty iron. I mark you with this not for myself, but for Ute.”
    Through raging tears I saw, white hot, the tiny letter.
    “It marks you as a traitress,” said Rask of Treve. He looked at me, with fury. 'Be marked as a traitress,' he said. Then he pressed the third iron into my flesh. As it entered my flesh, biting and searing, I saw Ute watching, her face betraying no emotion. I screamed, and wept, and screamed.
    Still the men did not release me.
    Rask of Treve lifted the last iron from the fire. It was much larger, the letter at its termination some one and a half inches high. It, too, was white hot. I knew the brand. I had seen it on Ena's thigh. It was the mark of Treve. Rask of Treve decided that my flesh should bear that mark.
    “No, Master, please!” I begged him.
    “Yes, Worthless Slave,” he said, “you will wear in your flesh the mark of the city of Treve.”
    “Please,” I begged.
    “When men ask you,” said he, “who it was that marked you as a liar and a thief, and traitress, point to this brand, and say, I was marked by one of Treve, who was displeased with me.”~Captive of Gor, page 310~

"I slipped on the bit of silk. I looked in the mirror and shuddered. I had been naked before men, many times, but it did not seem to me that I had been so naked as this. It was Gorean pleasure silk. Not naked, I seemed more than naked."
~Captive of Gor, page 322~

"I got to my feet and went outside the shed. There was a mirror there, and cosmetics, and silks and bells. There were no men about. The girls were preparing themselves."
~Captive of Gor, page 322~

"The absolute truth must be spoken to a Gorean master. It is forbidden to a girl to hide her feelings."
~Captive of Gor, page 346~

“The companionship is gone,” said Telima. “More than a year has passed,” she pointed out, “and you have not, together, repledged it.”
“That is true,” I admitted. By Gorean law the companionship, to be binding, must, together, be annually renewed, pledged afresh with the wines of love.
“And,” said Telima, “both of you were once enslaved, and that, in itself, dissolves the companionship. Slaves cannot stand in companionship.”
~Captive of Gor, page 367~

~Memorable Passages~