Read Online Plunder of Gor by John Norman - Free Book Online

and lifted from the van, and placed on a wooden surface. Almost simultaneously, my left wrist fastened to her right wrist, Paula, doubtless similarly in someone’s arms, was deposited beside me.
    I heard the fellow who had been with us in the van descend to the walkway. “You are going to be ankleted,” he said, “placed in numbered anklets. Do not try to remove the anklets. You will not be able to do so. They will be locked on you. We will keep track of you by means of the numbers. They will identify you in our records, where your hair and eye color, your measurements, and such, will be recorded. It is important to keep track of one’s stock. If it is helpful, you may begin to think of yourselves as what you now are, objects, or animals, stock, only that. You no longer have names, unless we choose to give you names. I wish you well, sweet beasts. May you find yourselves well collared, and subject to the whips of strong masters.”
    How helpless we were, where we knew not, hooded and handcuffed together.
    â€œThis way,” said a voice, and I felt a hand grasp my upper right arm.
    We were conducted along a wooden walkway. I could hear the shoes, or boots, of the men on the boards. We were then stopped. I heard the sound of a key in a lock, and a hasp being freed from its staple. Shortly thereafter I heard a door, I think a wooden door, swung back, and we were led within what I supposed might be a shed. The floor was of wood, as had been the walkway. Then we were stopped again. The next sound I heard seemed incongruous with the others. It did not fit in with the apparent primitiveness, or rurality, I had assumed characterized my surroundings.
    â€œStep ahead,” said the fellow with us.
    I then felt, surprising me, carpeting under my feet, and sensed, below that, a metal surface.
    I gasped, startled.
    â€œSteady,” said the male voice.
    The elevator was descending.
    â€œThe holding area is underground,” said the man, “some floors below. Do not be concerned. It is large, well-lit, pleasant, warm, comfortable.”
    After a bit, the elevator stopped.
    I heard a door, or panel, slide to the side.
    â€œMove ahead,” said the male voice.
    We left the elevator.
    â€œKneel,” said the male voice, “your heads to the floor.”
    I knelt down, and put my head to the floor.
    The handcuffs were removed from us, but my hands were drawn up, behind my back. Metal encircled my wrists. I heard two small, decisive clicks. I jerked at my wrists, but could not part them. They were fastened in place, closely together, behind my back. It was the first time I had been placed in such things. I would grow familiar with them. They are designed for women. Many are plain, but many, too, are lovely, designed, like jewelry, to set off, and enhance, not only the utter helplessness, but the beauty of their occupant. So I wore, for the first time, though I did not know it, slave bracelets. I heard two similar clicks, to my left, and I gathered that Paula was similarly secured.
    I felt something of metal, heavy and sturdy, put about my left ankle, and snapped shut. A moment later, to my left, I heard a similar sound.
    â€œThey are ankleted,” said a man.
    â€œLet us examine the catch,” said another.
    â€œKneel up,” said a third man.
    I obeyed.
    I felt hands about my neck, from behind. The lock was undone, and the hood was unbuckled, and then pulled away.
    I looked wildly about, blinking against the light, my eyes half closed, kneeling, my hands confined behind my back.
    It was a large, rectangular area, uncarpeted, low-ceilinged, lit with fluorescent light. About its periphery, as I was facing, were several doors, doubtless leading to other halls, or rooms. Behind me, though I did not realize it at the time, were several cells, with closely set bars. There were also, here and there, some small kennels or cages, in which I would suppose dogs, or other animals, might be