Dancer of Gor – Page 82

  • Posted on June 20, 2011 at 1:09 am

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The back of my calves, where I had been struck, now felt better. That had really been foolish of me, standing in a slovenly manner in the coffle, when there might of been men about, and, indeed, had been one, and with a whip. That I had been lashed, however, showed me that I was, in one way, important, and the men cared about me. I was a female. I made some sort of difference to them. That were genuinely interested in females, and liked them, and were concerned with them. They wanted us to be charming and beautiful as we could be, and would, frankly, hold us accountable for such things. How many times, I wondered, had a man on earth, irritated with an earth woman, or girl, been tempted to seize her and, say, pull gum from her mouth, or straighten her hair, or adjust her halter, or tell her to straighten her body or to change her posture, or to sit or kneel in a certain way, but, of course, had not done so? Here, however, men, I gathered, at least with women such as I, felt few reservations, inhibitions or compunctions about taking immediate and often direct action in such matters. They tend to view us with a certain propriety interest, even, in certain cases, with a certain possessive zeal and zest, and seemed determined to see to it that we were as marvelous as we could be. We were, after all, the females of their species.

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