Mariners of Gor (Gorean Saga, Book 30)

Mariners of Gor (Gorean Saga, Book 30)

John Norman

Language: English

Pages: 377

ISBN: 0759299897

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Many on Gor do not believe the great ship of Tersites, the lame, scorned, half-blind, half-mad shipwright, originally of Port Kar, exists. Surely it is a matter of no more than legend. In the previous book, however, Swordsmen of Gor, we learned that the great ship, commissioned by unusual warriors for a mysterious mission, was secretly built in the northern forests and brought down the Alexandra to Thassa, the sea, beginning her voyage to the “World’s End,” hazarding waters beyond the “farther islands,” from which no ship had returned.

Rediscover this brilliantly imagined world where men are masters and women live to serve their every desire.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J84L3UK/
ASIN: B00J84L3UK

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what it would be like! One stroke and I knew! I cried for mercy after the second stroke. Iole laughed, even in her pain, but she, too, soon, cried out for mercy.” I was not surprised. They were both lovely female slaves. “You fear the whip,” I said. “We all do,” she said. “Some free women,” I said, “think that slaves are weak, that they fear the whip.” “I did not fear it when I was free,” she said, “for I had never felt it.” “Many free women,” I said, “scorn slaves for their fear of the

“It scalds me, and burns me, and each stroke immerses me in fire,” she said. “It shows me no mercy!” “Then you would try to be a good slave, would you not?” I asked. “Yes, yes,” she said, “Master.” “Good,” I said. “How many strokes did you and Iole receive?” “Ten,” she said. “And in the end we were helpless in the ropes, unable to stand, our weight on our bound wrists, shuddering, sobbing, our bodies afire, from the encircling tentacles of the lash, scarcely able to breathe.” “If one of you

the local populace, one could always display them, relate to them, and do with them as seemed appropriate. For example, they should not, at least initially, be so desirable, and exciting, that Pani free women might kill them. The Pani free women must come to understand that they are no threat to them, no threat to their beauty, prestige, station, and power, but only animals, and slaves, work beasts and toys for their men. Having reached the wharf in the second contingent, disembarked, I, and

collar, to serve naked, at another’s feast.” Swiftly, she turned away. I thrust Alcinoë from me, and she slipped to the polished floor, of dark wood, and knelt there, holding my leg, pressing her cheek against it. “Master, Master,” she said. I disengaged her hands and held them apart, looking down on her, she on her knees at my feet. Then, holding her hands, I put my right foot against her left shoulder, and then spurned her to the floor, as the slave she was, and she turned, tears on her

mariners were at the helm. There was an odd tension on the last line, not adjusted to the motion of the ship, as it might ease from its berth. Men were climbing the line. I struck down, frenziedly, at the line, sparks flashing from the cleat, and the line parted, and jerked away. Men, clinging to it, Pani, climbing it, had fallen to the water, between the wharf and the ship. Much canvas had now been spread, but it hung slack. “Well done, fellow,” screamed Aëtius. I looked about, wildly.

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