Okay, so let's chew on this hypothetical for a bit:
The newest Gor novel is due. Good for Dr. Lange! 2011 will be a good year! "Illusions of Gor" has a publication and a street date!
Much excitement ensues and the anticipation of the release is palatable. The magic day finally comes, and you (and you, and you, and you, and even you, the little one hiding in that corner over there) run out to your favorite bookstore and return home with your prize. You settle into your favorite chair, with a glass of your favorite beverage, and crack open the cover and begin to read.
You read this:
Chapter One
Ellen Markin awoke suddenly, sitting up in bed. Covered in sweat, she pushed the hair back from her face. Exhaling explosively, she had not even realized that she had been holding her breath. Looking across the room she could see through the curtains that the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon. Slowly she rose and padded naked to the window. There was no need to be modest, no one could see her; a perk of having a condominium on the thirty-sixth floor.
The sound of running water attracted her attention. From across the room a sliver of light escaped from a slightly open door. Turning from the window Ellen smiled and tiptoed toward the door. As she entered she was aware of the change in both temperature and humidity. Through the frosted glass of the shower, a figure of a man in the process of bathing could be discerned. Ellen leaned on the sink as she spoke.
"I've had a bad night," she said.
From behind the glass an inquisitive grunt could be heard.
"Yes," said Ellen, continuing. "A bad night. I had a dream. It sounds kind of funny now, to speak of it during the daytime, but it bothered me all night."
The male figure in the shower continued with his bath, and gave no response.
"I dreamt that I was taken to another world, kidnapped in fact, in order that I might be sold as a slave." Ellen snorted. "A slave!
Me? Can you imagine anything more ridiculous?"
She paused for a response from the shower, and receiving none, she continued.
"It was a world where men are truly dominant, and many of the women submissive to them. Even the women who were free! But I was no free woman, oh no! I was told that I was a delicious slave simply waiting for a man to claim her and show to her the truth that is in her soul."
She shook her head smiling.
"A slave," she said, muttering.
The sound of the water abruptly cut off and the door of the shower opened to allow a tall and well-muscled man to step out. A shock of bright red hair crowned the top of his head. Naked and silent, he grabbed a towel from a nearby stand and began to dry himself. As he did so his eyes never left the woman in front of him.
"I think it bothered me most due to the fact the it was so ludicrous. No woman would allow a man to degrade her so; to take away her freedom; to reduce her to nothing but chattel. Yet, I felt that I was there, and remember well the fear of standing on a slaver's block, hearing the bids called out for me." She paused, then continued. "I've not felt such a fear since the twin towers were destroyed."
The man, kneeling now and drying his ankles, listened intently.
Ellen regarded him. "Tarl," she said. "Do you think I would make a good slave?"
Tarl, on his knees, looked up at the woman and replied.
"No, Mistress."
Ellen was pleased. "Good boy! I don't think so either. The thought of such a thing is truly repugnant to me. I could never find myself in such a situation."
She ran her hand through the red hair of the man kneeling at her feet. "Now you go and prepare breakfast. Eggs, I think. Toast, juice and do not forget the sugar in my coffee, again."
Tarl shivered at the reminder. "No Mistress, I shall not," he whined. He scampered out the door toward the kitchen to begin performing his daily duties.
End of Chapter One.
And it goes on in the same vein, chapter after chapter. It concludes with Tarl, again at the feet of his mistress, purring contentedly.
So.
My question to those reading here is simple:
Has anything changed for you, fellow Goreans?
