Results Details

Was that not to be a secret, denied even to oneself? In my sunglasses they would not even know if I noticed them or not, not until I turned to them, directly, and they quickly turned away. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 1, Sentence #299)

And I was beautiful, very beautiful! I had planned to go to the beach the next day. Would I do so? When I went to the beach, it was not to swim, but to relish the sun, the warm sand, the sight of the water and sky, the crowd, the sound of the surf, and sense the impression one such as I would make in such a milieu, on the young men, so many of them furtive and diffident, so frightened to be noticed in their noticing. How ashamed my culture had made so many of them to be male. Was that not to be a secret, denied even to oneself? In my sunglasses they would not even know if I noticed them or not, not until I turned to them, directly, and they quickly turned away. It was one of the small pleasures allowed to a young woman in the culture, that of intimidating and shaming men, teasing them, taunting them, torturing them, particularly those suitably acculturated, conditioned to view the most natural promptings of their blood with trepidation and remorse. Who did we fear and hate more, I wondered, they, or ourselves? I considered changing my plans for the morrow but then decided I would not do so. I would go forward and do exactly what I had intended to do. - (Plunder of Gor)