Ships Knife

[Daubee]

He was cutting, with a ship’s knife, a ring of reddish alloy from the arm of a fallen Kur. The knife could not cut the ring. He lifted it, obdurate and bloody. It was the only ornament the beast wore. “A high officer,” said Ivar. “Yes,” said the man. Behind him stood a blond slave girl, naked, her hair falling to her waist. I gathered she belonged to him. “We are victorious!” said the man to her, brandishing the ring. Over her iron collar she wore a heavy leather Kur collar, high, heavily sewn, with its large ring. He thrust her two wrists, before her body, into the ring he had cut from the Kur. He then tied them inside, and to, the ring. He then, from his belt, took a long length of binding fiber and, doubling it, looped it, securing it, at its center to the ring, leaving two long ends. He then threw her, on her back, over the body, head down, of the fallen Kur. He took the two loose ends of the binding fiber and, taking them under the body of the fallen Kur, dragged her wrists, elbows bent, over and above her head; he then, bending her knees, tied one of the loose ends about her left ankle, and the other about her right. It was the Gorean love bow. He then, regarding her, cut the Kur collar from her throat with the ship’s knife. He threw it aside. She now wore only one collar, his. She closed her eyes. She moved, lying across it, on the body of the Kur. It was still warm. “It is we who are victorious,” said he. She opened her eyes. “It is you who are victorious, Master,” she said. Already her hips were moving. “I am only a slave girl,” she wept. With a roaring laugh he fell upon her. “Ivar! Ivar!” cried a voice. We heard the slave girl cry out with pleasure.
Marauders of Gor, pages 260 - 261