"John Norman - Gor 22 - Dancer of Gor " - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

but there was this to be said, had I lived in another place or time I
might perhaps have found female fulfillments which, categorically,
it seemed, were to be denied to me in my present world, the
neuteristic, anonymous world, so inimical to individuality and love,
in which I found myself a prisoner of time and circumstance.
I looked into the mirror, and smiled. To be sure, I thought,
perhaps you were once an Irish girl tied between the benches of a
Viking ship, bound for Iceland, or a pale, prim English lady carried
to Barbary, in 1802, who will be taught to feel, and serve dark
masters in helpless ecstasy, but perhaps, too, you were not. That was
she, and not really you. But who are you? Is there a ship somewhere
that will come for you? Are the chains forged that will bind your
limbs? Is there an iron, somewhere, waiting to be heated, which will
mark your body? Is there a collar, somewhere, unknown to you, that
you will someday know well, because it had been locked on your
neck? I wonder. You are beautiful. I do not think men would be
patient with you. They would want superb service, with no
hesitation or compromise. You are that beautiful. Be pleased that
men do not exist such as in your dreams, Doreen, for in their power,
and in their arms, you would be raped, humiliated and unspeakable
degraded. You do not know, responding helplessly to them, what
they might make you, what you might become, I laughed,
scornfully. What you might become? How pretentious you are! Do
you think I do not know you, who you are, and what you are?
Perhaps what you are is hidden from all the world, but it is not
hidden from me! I know you, and what you are! Speak honestly or
be beaten! What you might become, indeed! What you might
become, I retorted, you already know in your heart, and know it
fully well, you petty, lovely hypocrite, you already are!
The girl in the mirror looked startled, and then pouting, and
angry.
тАЮIs it not true?тАЬ I challenged her.
тАЮYes!тАЬ she sobbed. тАЮIt is true!тАЬ
тАЮAre you not rather burdensomely garbed?тАЬ I asked.
She drew off the tiny bit of silk. I watched her in the mirror.
тАЮYou may dance,тАЬ I told her.




14
 She looked at me, defiantly.
тАЮYou want to dance,тАЬ I told her. тАЮDance.тАЬ
I then, startled, saw her, myself, in the mirror. тАЮWho are you?тАЩ I
asked, тАЮWho taught you to move like that? Where did you come
from? Can you be truly Doreen? You are not Doreen as I have seen
her before. Are you I? Are we the same? Surely that cannot be I! No
one showed you such a dance! Has there been such a dance lurking
in you all this time? Can we be the same? Surely that cannot be!
Surely I must stop! You are the Doreen I must conceal, the Doreen