Sunday 27 August 2023

The Emma of Gor Trilogy: An Introduction


The 'Emma of Gor' trilogy is a series of fan-fiction books set on John Norman's Counter Earth world of Gor. Chronologically speaking, they occur in the following order:

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Nine

 

I was still tied helplessly between the tree trunks as darkness fell. I had tried for several ahn to wriggle a hand free from the binding fibre, but Sally had done a very good job of tying me up. I don’t think I could have done a better job on her, if I’m being honest. No one had found me, if anyone was even looking for me, and I had been too embarrassed to begin with to make any attempt at shouting for help. My dumb pride had surfaced. After all, I’d been captured by a woman; any man on Gor would be ashamed of that. To be a woman’s capture is humiliating in the extreme. And even if I did call out, I wasn’t sure anyone on the distant road would hear me, or if they did, would dare to venture into the deep copse of trees for fear it was a trap. Travellers do not leave the safety of the road to plunge into dense woodland, especially not to rescue a man. A woman screaming for help might inspire thoughts of a pretty captive, but who wants to risk their life because a man called for help?

 

You don’t need me to state the obvious that it's not safe to be staked out in the dark in the Gorean wilderness. The wildlife on Gor can be vicious. If there were sleen in the vicinity I was as good as dead and would never see the sun rise. Tied here, unable to flee, I would be eaten alive. Not an enticing prospect.

Thursday 24 August 2023

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Eight

 

“How are my capture knots?’

 

I couldn’t feel my hands when I woke. I was naked, stripped, and tightly tied between a couple of trees. My wrists were tied together and then lashed to a trunk. My ankles were tied separately to trunks either side, so that my legs were widely spread. And, as is always the case when I wake from sleep – whether naturally induced or not – I had a stiff morning glory erection. I’ve never understood why that happens to men. It’s not as if I’m always dreaming erotic dreams.

 

Though on Gor those dreams do come a lot more frequently than they ever did on Earth.

 

“You’re actually the first man I’ve had to tie as a captive. I’m just wondering how I did?” she asked. “Please, I’m curious. Indulge me.” 

 

“They’re good knots,” I said through gritted teeth. Leda was dressed again in the simple peasant gowns belonging to Laetitia. She sat in Tower position beside me, unveiled, and bereft of the slave collar. She had found the key, then. My pouches and sword lay close by. Hidden in one of the pouches was the precious serum I had to give to Laetitia before she might be tested for slave responses by physicians in Torcadino. No doubt Leda had been through everything. I had to hope she hadn’t given the vial any due consideration.

 

“You’re not just saying that to make me happy?” asked Leda. “You can be critical if you want. Women rarely master the art of capture knots.”

Wednesday 23 August 2023

State of the Nation August 2023!

 

Hello lovely readers.

 

Apologies for my recent absence. While the long term readers know I routinely take a bit of time off now and again, the circumstances this time around were a bit different.

 

I did decide to take a few weeks off after Christmas/New Year, and as always once I stopped writing for a while it grew to about three months. Not my worst absence, but I decided then to get cracking with finishing Outcast of Gor and posting the final chapters I’d received from Tracker and Arizona Wanderer. 

 

Only… no sooner had I begun than I finally came down with Covid. Yes, I’d been spared it up to that point. The Covid itself wasn’t too bad, but I seem to have what’s commonly referred to as ‘Long Covid’ following my bout with the virus. This has left me very drained – a bit like suffering from ME, I suppose, and it very much affected my ability to get much done. I had just about enough energy to deal with the day job, but not much else. I’m still suffering from the after effects, though in recent weeks have been a bit more clear headed, hence why I’ve kick started the next book, but I confess I’m writing slower than before, when I routinely knocked off a chapter a day in-between meals. 

Tuesday 22 August 2023

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Seven

 

How difficult can it be to help a woman escape from a travel Inn, when in actual fact the Innkeeper would allow her to walk free anyway?

 

Not particularly difficult, it has to be said.

 

But I had to make it seem difficult. 

 

“A man has arrived,” said pretty Leda. “I think he is a metal worker.”

 

Of that there was little doubt. I saw him drop a heavy leather hold all containing all manner of tools and implements onto the flagstones of the inner courtyard. He was here to work. 

 

Leda stood before me in the corridor that connected the main room of the Inn to the kitchen. She was barefoot, wore a white tunic with light blue trim, and sported a steel collar about her throat. “Do not be overly concerned,” I reassured her. She was perhaps five feet four inches tall, with wavy light brown hair and a slightly upturned nose that was endearingly cute. Her lips were wide and expressive. Her breasts were beautifully formed and straining within the softness of the rep cloth tunic, where the plunging neckline offered an enticing vision of her bosom. “There are many reasons why a metal worker might call on this Inn at short notice.”

 

I watched as Leda looked furtively around. She was loitering beside me instead of working. A slave might be punished for such laziness. Leda, of course, wasn’t a slave, but she feared the Innkeeper might make her one.

 

“A metal worker brands women.” She flexed the toes of her left foot as she stood there.

Monday 21 August 2023

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Six

 

“The situation is even more dire than I may have previously suggested,” I whispered through the side of my mouth as pretty Leda served breakfast to our table, on her knees.

 

When she looked up in alarm, her hands shaking slightly as she held a tray of bowls and plates, I quickly added, “do not acknowledge anything I tell you. Not a thing! The Innkeeper’s eyes may be upon us at this very moment!”

 

Pretty Leda lowered her eyes submissively, the way a slave might. She had seen the other girls do so when awaiting a master’s command. She did it quite well, even though she was a proud free woman. No doubt it would come more naturally to her if she found herself enslaved, wearing a collar, and a kef brand marked upon her thigh.

 

“Early this morning the Innkeeper sent word to the outlying village for the services of a metal worker,” I explained.

 

“Oh!” she gasped. Her hands trembled as she placed the tray on the floor beside her knees and poured black wine into a small cup beside me. A metal worker is of course skilled in branding the left thigh of a woman. The implication from my words was no doubt obvious to pretty Leda. She seemed intelligent enough to grasp the obvious. 

Thursday 17 August 2023

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Five

 

I lay in one of the common rooms of the Inn, unable to sleep. Outside, a soft rain continued to fall on the cobblestones of the walled courtyard. I find the sound of rain soothing, and usually it aids a night’s sleep, but tonight I felt my nerves wound up, and I felt tense and aware of everything around me.

 

Felix lay nearby, as did Adamus. They both seemed to be sound asleep. Perhaps they were.

 

I rose to a seated position, casting aside my rough spun woollen blanket as I observed the other sleeping forms in the room. Common rooms in roadside Inns are the cheapest way of spending a night safely when travelling. Here, men can rent simple wooden floor space for a few copper tarsks and know they will wake up in the morning without their throats slit. Free women, of course, rarely choose to sleep in common rooms, or if they do, it would be a common room reserved exclusively for the use of women. In times of war, though, all things become scarce, and, with the passing of war torn refugees, even room in an Inn becomes a precious commodity. I observed a couple of free women sleeping to the side of the room. They had made a low wall with their travel bags to delineate their area. Men, of course, were not permitted to cross it. I suspect the women slept little, if at all, conscious of snoring males close by. They slept in their robes and gowns, not daring to so much as remove a stitch.