Kajira of Gor Read Free Page A

not. Too, I can sense that
    you lack her incisive intellect, her ferocity, her hardness, her cruelty.”
    “I am busy,” I said.
    “No,” he said, his eyes suddenly bard. “You are not.”
    I shrugged, as though irritated. But I was frightened, and I think be knew it. I
    was then terribly conscious of his maleness and power. He was not the sort of
    man to whom a woman might speak in such a manner. He was rather the sort of man
    whom a woman must obey.
    “May I help you?” I asked.
    “Show me your most expensive perfume,” he said.
    I showed it to him.
    “Sell it to me,” he said. “Interest me in it.”
    “Please,” I said.
    “Display it,” be said. “Am I not a customer?”
    I looked at him.
    “Spray some of it upon your wrist,” he said. “I shall see if it interests me.”
    I did so.
    “Extend your wrist,” be said. I did so, with the palm upward. This is an
    extremely erotically charged gesture, of course, extending the delicate wrist,
    perfumed, to the male, with the tender, vulnerable palm upward.
    He took my wrist in both his hands. I shivered. I knew I could never break that
    grip.
    He put down his face, over my wrist, and inhaled, deeply, intimately,
    sensuously.
    I shuddered.
    “It is acceptable,” he said, lifting his bead.
    “It is our most expensive perfume,” I said. He had not yet released my wrist.
    “Do you like it?” he asked.
    “I cannot afford it,” I said.
    “Do you like it?” he asked.
    “Of course,” I said.
    He released my wrist. “I shall take it,” he said. “Wrap it,” he said, “as a
    gift.”
    “It is seven hundred dollars an ounce,” I said.
    “It is overpriced for its quality,” he said.
    “It is our best,” I said.
    He -drew a wallet from his jacket and withdrew several hundred-dollar bills from
    itg recesses. I could see that it held many more hills.
    Trembling, I wrapped the perfume. When I had finished I took the money.
    “There is a thousand dollars here,” I said, moving as though to return the extra
    bills.
    “Keep what you do not need for the price and tax,” he said.
    “Keep it?” I asked.
    “Yes,” he said.
    “It is over two hundred dollars,” I said.
    “Keep it,” he said.
    While I busied myself with the register he wrote something on a small card.
    “Thank you,” I said, uncertainly, sliding the tiny package toward him with the
    tips of my fingers.
    He pushed it back towards me. “it is for you,” he said, “of course.”
    “For me?” I asked.
    “Yes,” he said. “When is your day off?”
    “Wednesday,” I said.
    “Come to this address,” he said, “at ten o’clock in the morning, this coming
    Wednesday.” He placed the small white card before me.
    I looked at the address. It was in Manhattan.
    “We shall be expecting you,” he said.
    “I do not understand,” I said.
    “It is the studio of a friend of mine,” he said, “a photographer. He does a
    great deal of work for certain advertising agencies.”
    ”Oh,” I said. I sensed that this might be the opening to a career, of great
    interest to me, one in which I might be able to capitalize, and significantly,
    on my beauty.
    “I see that you are interested,” he said.
    I shrugged. “Not really,” I said. I would play hard to get.
    “We do not accept prevarication in a female,” he said.
    “A female?” I said. I felt for a moment Iliad been reduced to my radical
    essentials.
    “Yes,” he said.
    I felt angry and, admittedly, not a little bit aroused by his handling of me.
    “I hardly know you. I can’t accept this money, or this perfume,” I said.
    “But you will accept it, won’t you?” he said.
    I put down my bead. “Yes,” I said.
    “We shall see you Wednesday,” he said.
    “I shan’t be coming,” I said.
    “We recognize that your time, as of now,” he said, “is valuable.”
    I did not understand what he meant by the expression ‘as of now.’
    He then pressed into my band the round, heavy, yellowish object which I had
    later