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.It was the first time I had ever been struck with a whip."Come, Dina, pull harder," said Thurnus."Yes, Master!" I cried, hurling myself against the trace.He had not beenangry.My back felt as though it had been lashed with a hot cable.I could not believe the pain of the whip.I could not even conjecture what itwould be to feel a true slave whip on my body.Yet I knew a girl could besubjected to a full and lengthy lashing by the true slave whip for so small athing as having failed in some way that she might not even understand to becompletely pleasing to a master.Indeed, she could be subjected to such alashing for no other reason than that it pleased the master to do so.I hadnow, for the first time, the former Judy Thornton, felt a whip.I groaned inmisery.I now had a new insight into the condition of my slavery.I would doanything, eagerly, the masters wanted.But in less than an hour I had collapsed in the traces, unconscious.I dimly remember Thurnus's hand on the back of my neck and Sandal Thong'ssaying, "Do not kill her, Thurnus.Can you not see she is only a pretty slave,that she is only for the pleasure of men and not for the fields?""We can pull the plow without her, Master," said Turnip."We have done it many times before," said Radish."Do not break her neck, Master," pleaded Verr Tail.Thurnus's hand left the back of my neck.I remember him tying my hands behind my back, and tying my ankles together,and leaving me in a furrow.I then again lost consciousness.That nightThurnus carried me, bound, over his shoulder, back to the village, and threwme down between the pilings of his hut."What is wrong?" askedMelina."This one is a weakling," said Thurnus."I will kill her for you,"said Melina.She drew from her coarse robes a short knife.I rose on oneelbow, naked and bound, helpless in the dirt at her feet.I regarded her withhorror.She approached me with the knife."Please, no, Mistress!" Ifile:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Slave%20Girl%20Of%20Gor.txt (99 of 227) [1/20/033:34:31 AM]file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Slave%20Girl%20Of%20Gor.txt wept."Go into thehouse, Woman," said Thurnus, angrily."You are the weakling, Thurnus," snappedMelina.She then put away the knife, and stood up."It was a mistake to have followed you," she said.He looked at her without speaking."You could have been a caste leader for a district," she said."Instead I amonly the companion of a village leader.I could have companioned a districtleader.You stink of the sleen you train and the girls you own."There were slaves present, and yet she so spoke."You are a weakling and a fool, Thurnus," she said."I despise you.""Go into the house, Woman," he said.Angrily Melina turned and climbed thesteps into the hut.At the top of the steps she turned."You do not have muchlonger to give orders in Tabuk's Ford, Thurnus," she said.Then shedisappeared into the hut."Untie Dina," said Thurnus, "and take her to the cage.""Yes, Master," said his girls."Poor little Dina," said Thurnus, looking down at me, as the ropes werePage 135 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlremoved from my small limbs."You make a very poor she-bosk," he said.Then hegrinned.Then he turned away.I struck angrily down at the ground with the hoe.Of course I made a poorshe-bosk! It was not my fault I was not a female bosk, like so many of thelasses of peasant stock.Marla and Chanda andDonna and Slave Beads would have been no better! And I did not think Lehna orEta would have been much better either! How I would have loved to have seenMaria try to pull the plow! She would have done no better than I! Angrily Ihoed the suls.I was healthy and vital, but I was not large, not strong.Icould not help that.It was not my fault.I was small, and slight and weak.Icould not help that.It was not my fault! I was perhaps beautiful, but beautyavailed nothing when one felt the weight of the plow at one's back and knewthat behind you the master was lifting his whip.Thurnus was disappointed in my weakness.I chopped down angrily at the ground with the hoe.It was hard for me even tocarry water to the fields, struggling under the great wooden yoke over myshoulders, with its attached buckets.Sometimes I fell, spilling the water.And I was slow.The other girls, whowere my friends, did parts of my heavier work and I, in turn, did much of thelighter work which was theirs.Yet I did not like this for it was harder onthem.I wanted to do my share.It was only that I was weak, that I was not agood peasant's girl.Sometimes in the fields I hated Clitus Vitellius.It was he who had left me ina peasant village!He had made me love him, conquering me to the last cell of my body, and hadthen, laughing, given me to a peasant
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