Dancer of Gor

I stirred, uneasily. My nose wrinkled a little. There was some sort of strong smell. I did not care for it. I did not know what it was. It seemed very close, terribly close. I opened my eyes, suddenly. I could not see anything in the darkness. Perhaps I had been asleep for only a few moments. Perhaps I had slept for an hour. I did not know. Then it seemed that I was paralyzed with fear. I had vaguely discerned, or thought I had, a deeper darkness in the darkness. Then I felt something on each side of me, like barriers, a wall, but parts of something alive. I wanted to scream, but was so terrified I could not make the least sound. I was on my back, trapped in the blanket. Its body was above my lower body, close. Its legs, or hind legs, were on either side of me. I was held in place. It seemed enormous. It leaned forward. I almost choked, from the fetid breath. A drop of liquid fell to my face, salivation from its jaws. It seemed excited. Doubtless I was meat. I felt the heat and volume of its breath on my face. Its lungs must be huge. Its oral orifice might well be as large as my head. I could not understand why it did not move. I now realized it was waiting for me to try to scream. This thing over me was not human, but, too, it was no sleen, or larl. It was a beast, and a terrible one, that much I could tell even in the terror of the darkness, but, too, I sensed, from its control, and patience, and the way it had rendered me helpless, it was in some indefinable way, some terrifying way, other than a beast, too, or more than a beast. It was a beast which, like men, I feared, could consider alternatives, envisage possible futures, choose courses of action. It could think, and plan. I lay there. It did not begin to lacerate me. It did not tear at my flesh. It did not begin to feed. It was waiting, waiting patiently. It was waiting for me to try to scream. At the time, of course, I did not know that. I moved a little. There was an almost inaudible growl. Immediately I was again perfectly still. I did not understand why it had not killed me. It was, somehow, however, within the pen. Had it been admitted? Perhaps it was uneasy in such a situation? Perhaps it wanted to carry me to its den, there to feed on me. But why then, would it not have killed me first, and then dragged me away, like a leopard? I did not think this thing would want me as a slave. I was not of its species. Its lusts, and I did not doubt but what such a vital, powerful creature had them, would presumably be triggered by configurations and natures quite other than mine. Indeed, I shuddered to consider what might be the rituals and habits, the courtships and matings, of such a thing. Too, it was not behaving toward me, as might have a master, say, fondling me with possessive audacity or throwing my legs apart, to see how I might look with them spread, or to let me know what my relationship was to be to him. For what, then, could it want me? Doubtless food. But then why had it not killed me? Perhaps it wanted to get me somehow to its den and there make its kill, that the meat might be fresh? Or, perhaps, as it might be a rational beast, with an eye to the future, until it was hungry? It then, slowly, one by one, put the digits of its left hand, or paw, on my cheek. I suddenly shuddered. There had been five, and then, when I had thought them done, terrifying me, there had been another! The thing had six digits! It was then alien, as far as I knew, not only to Earth but Gor. It was from somewhere else! I was suddenly wild with terror, not the numbing paralyzing terror, which I now understand the thing was waiting to pass, but a different sort of terror, now a wild, helpless terror. I put back my head, wildly. I opened my mouth, widely. I took a breath to scream. But no sooner had I opened my mouth, widely, widely, and took in breath to scream, than the creature, with his right hand, or pay, from beside him, took what must have been a small bag, filled with rags, and thrust it expertly, deeply into my oral orifice. He then, as I looked up inthe darkness, in disbelief, in consternation, tied it back in my mouth with cord, pulled back deeply between my teeth wrapped twice about my head, fastened under my left ear. He was apparently right-handed, or right-pawed. He then drew back the blanket from about me, and turned me to my stomach. He then drew my wrists behind my back and tied them. In another moment he had similarly fastened my ankles together. He had bound me, hand and foot. I lay there bewildered, terrified. He had handled me with the dexterity of a human slaver, surprising a woman in her bed. Not only had he seemed apprised of the human female" s reflexive scream reaction, her tendency to cry out with fear, but he had taken advantage of it, exploiting it expertly, using it for the convenient opportunity it afforded for her effective gagging. I could now, the rags in my mouth, utter only tiny, helpless sounds. These were perhaps not greatly different from the small cries a woman might utter in her sleep. How expertly he had taken advantage of my female reflexes! He had also, in his way, tricked me. He had provoked my scream reflex by silently informing me, unexpectedly, and to my terror, of the alien nature of his hand, or paw. He had then gagged me, and, then, without further ado, put back the blanket, turned me to my belly and bound me, helplessly.