Captive of Gor Read Online Free Page B

off my headlights and drove off the road into some
    trees. There were many turn-offs on the road, may bends. They would assume I had
    taken one.
    I sat, heart pounding in the Maserati, with the lights off.
    In a matter of seconds the following car raced past, skidding about a curve.
    I waited for about thirty seconds and then drove back to the road. I drove
    lights off for several minutes, following the double yellow line in the center
    of the road by moonlight. Then, when I came to a more traveled highway, a
    cemented road, well trafficked, I switched on my lights and continued on my way.
    I had outsmarted them.
    I continued generally northward. I assumed they would suppose I had backtracked,
    and was returning southward. They would not suppose I would continue my journey
    in the same direction. They would suppose me too intelligent for that. But I was
    far more intelligent than they, for that was precisely what I would do!
    It was now about four ten in the morning. I pulled into a small motel, a set of
    bungalows, set back from the road. I parked the car behind one of the bungalows,
    where it could not be seem from the road. No one would expect me to stop at this
    time. Near the bungalows, north on the highway, there was a diner, which was
    open. It was almost empty. The red neon lights of the diner loomed on the hot,
    dark night. I was famished. I had eaten nothing all day. I entered the diner,
    and sat in one of the booths, where I could not be seen from the highway.
    “Sit at the counter,” said the boy at the diner. He was alone.
    “Menu,” I told him.
    I had two sandwiches, from cold roast beef, on dry (pg. 22) bread, a piece of
    pie left from the afternoon, and a small carton of chocolate milk.
    At another time I might have been disgusted, but tonight I was elated.
    Soon I had rented a bungalow for the night, the one behind which I had parked
    the Maserati.
    I put my belongings in the bungalow and locked the door. I was tired, but I sang
    to myself. I was exceedingly well pleased with how well I had done. The bed
    looked inviting but I was sweaty, filthy, and I was naturally too fastidious to
    retire without showering. Besides I wanted to wash.
    In the bathroom I examined the mark on my thigh. It infuriated me. But, as I
    regarded it, in fury, I could not help but be taken by its cursive, graceful
    insolence. I clenched my fists. The arrogance, that it had been placed on my
    body. The arrogance, the arrogance! It marked me. But beautifully. I regarded
    myself in the mirror. I regarded the mark. There was no doubt about it. That
    mark, somehow, insolently, incredibly enhanced my beauty. I was furious.
    Also, incomprehensibly I found that I was curious about the touch of a man. I
    had never much cared for men. I put the thought angrily from me. I was Elinor
    Brinton!
    Irritably I examined the steel band at my throat. I could not read the
    inscription on the band, of course. I could not even recognize the alphabet.
    Indeed, perhaps it was only a cursive design. But something in the spacing and
    the formation of the figures told me it was not. The lock was small and heavy.
    The band fit snugly.
    As I looked in the mirror the thought passed through my mind that it, too, like
    the mark, was not unattractive. It accentuated my softness. And I could not
    remove it. For an instant I felt helpless, owned, a captive, the property of
    others. The brief fantasy passed through my mind of myself, in such a band,
    marked as I was, naked in the arms of a barbarian. I shuddered, frightened.
    Never before had I felt such a feeling.
    I looked away from the mirror.
    Tomorrow I would have the steel band removed.
    I stepped into the shower and was soon singing.
    (pg. 23) I had wrapped a towel about my hair, and, dried and refreshed, though
    tired, and very happy, emerged from the bathroom.
    I turned down the sheets on the bed.
    I was safe.
    My wrist watch, when I had prepared to shower, I had slipped into my handbag. I
    looked at it. It