Conspirators of Gor Read Online Free Page B

the blood.”
    It struck me as strange that she had used the expression ‘in this world’? What other world could there be? Could there be another world, one in which one need not strive to ignore or repudiate what one truly was? Was it so wrong, to be true to one’s nature, whatever it might be?
    Was nature so terrible?
    Had it not preserved extant species for countless generations?
    “Too,” she said, “you are young, intelligent, healthy, curious, and hormonally active. Too, perhaps you are not wholly happy, or at ease with yourselves. Perhaps you are miserable, bored, unsatisfied. Perhaps you are uneasy, and know not why. It is understandable, then, that you might wish to look into such things.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Rawlinson,” said Eve.
    Then she put her head down, quickly, frightened.
    “Your interest in such matters,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “despite what you might think, is not unusual. Many thousands know of these things, here and abroad, in Europe and Asia, and elsewhere. To you, it seems it is a secret. But surely it is a strange “secret” which is unbeknownst shared by multitudes, each of its keepers perhaps unaware of the others. But, too, there are many places where the enemies of nature are less entrenched and powerful than here, places where it does not occur to men and women that obvious biotruths, such as the complementary nature of the sexes, are to be routinely suppressed.”
    “We thank you for your understanding,” said Eve.
    “Yes, thank you,” said Jane.
    “So much!” I said, fervently, gratefully.
    “Still,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “you are guilty. You have had in your possession literature quite improper for this house and the school.”
    “Yes, Miss Rawlinson,” said Eve.
    “Moreover,” she said, “you are not common, ordinary young women. You are very special young women, young women of high intelligence, education, refinement, wealth, taste, and breeding. Indeed, you are ladies, but not ladies in so exalted and powerful a sense that such as you would grovel and tremble in the very presence of such.”
    I did not understand this.
    “Rather,” she said, “you are ladies, here, young ladies, in a somewhat archaic sense of the term, a term associated with station, quality, and gentry.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Rawlinson!” said Eve.
    “And, as such,” she said, “in the possession of such literature, well aware of its political impropriety, you have behaved inexcusably.”
    “Mrs. Rawlinson!” protested Jane.
    “Stay on your knees, sluts,” she said.
    “Sluts!” protested Jane.
    She had called us this before.
    “Who else would read such things?” she asked.
    Eve burst into tears.
    “Yes,” said Mrs. Rawlinson, “‘sluts,’ all of you, and less than that, far less, if you but knew.”
    I did not understand her.
    I was afraid.
    “You must be punished,” she said.
    “No!” said Jane.
    “No!” I said.
    “I see,” said she, “that expulsion from the house is in order.”
    “No!” we cried. “Please, no!”
    It is difficult to convey my feelings, and, I suspect, the same might have been said for Eve and Jane. We were afraid, uncertain, and confused. In a moment we might be lost. In a sense, we were helpless. We were before the house mother, awaiting her pleasure and decision, on which our future might depend, and, as she would have it, unshod, and on our knees.
    The thought came to me, unbidden, sudden, that I was where I belonged, on my knees.
    “Be kind!” I begged.
    “You will be punished,” she said, “all of you, and exquisitely, in a way which will be wholly appropriate to your fault, in a way which will both conceal you and reveal you.”
    We understood nothing of this.
    “I will see to it that you will pay for your indiscretion,” she said. “I will see to it that you will suffer for it. I will see to it that you will be profoundly and exquisitely humiliated, that you, all of you, will be openly and publicly shamed, excruciatingly so, deliciously