| Dance of Need �I turned away and gave my attention to the slave writhing on the tiles before us.� �She was performing a need dance, of a type not uncommon among Gorean female slaves. Such a dance usually proceeds in clearly defined phrases, evident not merely in the expressions and movements of the girl but in the nature of the accompanying music.� �There are usually five phases to such a dance. In the first phase the girl, dancing, feigns indifference to the presence of men, before whom, as a slave, she must perform. In the second phase, for she has not yet been raped, her distress and uneasiness, her restlessness, her disturbance by her sexual urges, must become subtly more manifest. Here it must be evident that she is beginning to feel her sexuality, and drives, profoundly, and yet is struggling against them. Toward the end of this phase it must become clear not only that she has sexual needs, and deep ones, but that she is beginning to fear that she may not be, simply as she is, of sufficient interest to men to obtain their satisfaction.� �Here, need, coupled with anxiety and self-doubt, for she has not yet been seized by strong men, must become clear. In the third phase of the dance she, in an almost ladylike fashion, acknowledges herself defeated in her attempt to conceal her sexuality; she then, again in an almost ladylike fashion, delicately but clearly, with restraint but unmistakably, acknowledges, and publicly, before masters, that she has sexual needs.� �Then, with smiles, and gestures, displaying herself, she makes manifest her readiness for the service of men, her willingness, and her receptivity. She invited them, so to speak to have her. But she has not yet been seized by an arm or an ankle, or by her collar, a thumb hooked rudely under it, or hair, and pulled from the floor. What if she is not sufficiently pleasing? What if she is not to be fulfilled?� �What if she must continue to dance, alone, unnoticed. At this point it becomes clear to her that it is by no means a foregone conclusion that men will find her of interest, or that they will see fit to satisfy her. She must strive to be pleasing. If she is not good enough she may be chained, unfulfilled, another night alone in the kennel. There are always other girls. She must earn her rape. Too, if she should be insufficiently pleasing consistently it is likely that she will be slain. Goreans place few impediments in the way of liberation of a slave female's sexuality. In this phase of the dance, then, shamelessly the woman dances her need and, shamelessly, begs for her sexual satisfaction. The phase of the dance is sometimes known as the Heat of the Collared She-Sleen. The fifth, and final phase, of the dance, is far more dramatic and exciting. In this phase the girl, overcome by sexual desire and terrified that she may not be found sufficiently pleasing, clearly manifests, and utterly, that she is a slave female. In this portion of the dance the girl is seldom on her feet. Rather, sitting, rolling, and changing position, on her side, her back, her belly, half kneeling, half sitting, kneeling, crawling, reaching out, bending backwards, lying down, twisting with passion, gesturing to her body, presenting it to masters for their inspection and interest, whimpering, moaning, crying out, brazenly presenting herself as a slave, pleading for her rape, she writhes, a piteous, begging, vulnerable, ready slave, a woman fit for and begging for the touch of a master, a woman begging to become, at the least touch of her master, a totally submitted slave. The fourth phase of the dance, as I have mentioned, is sometimes known as the Heat of the Collared She-Sleen. This portion of the dance, the fifth portion, is sometimes known as the Heat of the Slave Girl. The music ended with a swirl of sound and the girl, with a jangle of bells, lay before the table of Policrates, whimpering, her hand extended. She lifted her head. I read the unmistakable need in her eyes. She was indeed a slave female.� Rogue of Gor, Page 86 Dance of the 6 Thongs In this dance, the girl wears a collar and locked rings on her wrists and ankles. The collar and rings are belled. Six men will then each fasten a length of binding fiber to her. One length will be fastened to the rings and two will be fastened to her waist. The men then stand by her side, three to a side, and about six to eight feet away. They each are holding an end of the binding fiber. The girl will then begin the dance as if she is unfettered. She will eventually begin moving and feel a minor restriction. She will frown, looking annoyed and puzzled at first. Her hair will also begin the dance pinned up. During the dance she will remove the pin and her hair will fall down. She will then find that she is not permitted to place her hair back with the pins. The girl eventually understands her plight and will try to resist. She may charge one of the men but the others will hold her back. Finally, the men take up all of the slack, bind the girl, lift her over their heads and display her bound body around the room ~*Sandra's Dance of the Six Thongs*~ "You may dance, Slave," I told her. It was to be the dance of the six thongs. She slipped the silk from her and knelt before the great table and chair, between the other tables, dropping her head. She wore five pieces of metal, her collar and locked rings on her wrists and ankles. Slave bells were attached to the collar and the rings. She lifted her head, and regarded me. The musicians, to one side, began to play. Six of my men, each with a length of binding fiber, approached her. She held her arms down, and a bit to the sides. The ends of six lengths of binding fiber, like slave snares, were fastened on her, one for each wrist and ankle, and two about her waist; the men, then, each holding the free end of a length of fiber, stood about her, some six or eight feet from her, three on a side. She was thus imprisoned among them, each holding a thong that bound her.... Sandra then, luxuriously, catlike, like a woman awakening, stretched her arms. There was laughter. It was as though she did not know herself bound. When she went to draw her arms back to her body there was just the briefest instant in which she could not do so, and she frowned, looked annoyed, puzzled, and then was permitted to move as she wished. I laughed. She was superb. Then, still kneeling, she raised her hand, head back, insolently to her hair, to remove from it one of the ornate pins, its head carved from the horn of kailiauk, that bound it. Again a thong, this time that on her right wrist, prohibited, but only for an instant, the movement, but inches from her hair. She frowned. There was laughter. At last, sometimes immediately permitted, sometimes not, she had removed the pins from her hair. Her hair was beautiful, rich, long and black. As she knelt, it fell back to her ankles. Then, with her hands, she lifted the hair again back over her head, and then, suddenly, her hands, by the thongs were pulled apart and her hair fell again loose and rich over her body. Now, angrily, struggling, she fought to lift her hair again but the thongs, holding apart her hands, did not permit her to do so. She fought them. The thongs would permit her only to wear her hair loosely. Then, as though in terror and fury, as though she now first understood herself in the snares of a slave, she leaped to her feet, fighting, to the music, the thongs. The dancing girls of Port Kar, I told myself, are the best on all Gor. Dark and golden, shimmering, crying out, stamping, she danced, her thonged beauty incandescent in the light of the torches and the frenzy of the slave bells. She turned and twisted and leaped, and sometimes seemed almost free, but was always, by the dark thongs, held complete prisoner. Sometimes she would rush upon one man or another, but the others would not permit her to reach him, keeping her always beautiful female slave snared in her web of thongs. She writhed and cried out, trying to force the thongs from her body, but could not do so. At last, bit by bit, as her fear and terror mounted, the men, fist by fist, took up the slack in the thongs that tethered her, until suddenly, they swiftly bound her hand and foot and lifted her over their heads, captured female slave, displaying her bound arched body to the tables. There were cries of pleasure from the tables, and much striking of the right fist on the left shoulder. She had been truly superb. Then the men carried her before my table and held her bound before me. "A slave," said one. "Yes," cried the girl, "slave!" The music finished with a clash. The applause and cries were wild and loud. I was much pleased." Raiders of Gor, page 228 |
| Love dance of a newly collared slave "There are many variations of this dance and most cities have their own version. The basic theme of this dance is that a girl dances with joy that she will soon lie in the arms of her strong Master. I turned to the musicians. "Do you know," I asked, "the Love Dance of the Newly Collared Slave Girl?" "Port Kar's?" asked the leader of the musicians. "Yes" I said. "Of course," said he. I had purchased more than marking and collars at the smithy. "On your feet," boomed Thurnock to Thura, and she leaped frightened to her feet, standing ankle deep in the thick pile rug. At a gesture from Clitus, Ula, too, leaped to her feet. I put ankle rings on Midice, and then slave bracelets. And tore from her the bit of silk she wore. She looked at me with terror. I lifted her to her feet, and stood before her. "Play," I told the musicians. The Love Dance of the Newly Collared Slave Girl has many variations, in the different cities of Gor, but the common theme is that the girl dances her joy that she will soon lie in the arms of a strong Master. The musicians began to play, and to the clappings and cries of Thurnock and Clitus, Thura and Ula danced before them. "Dance," said I to Midice. In terror the dark-haired girl, lithe, tears in her eyes, she so marvelously legged, lifted her wrists. Now again Midice danced, her ankles in delicious proximity and wrists lifted again together back to back above her head, palms out. But this time her ankles were not as though chained, nor her wrists as though braceleted; rather they were truly chained and braceleted; she wore the linked ankle rings, the three-linked slave bracelets of a Gorean master; and I did not think she would now conclude her dance by spitting upon me and whirling away. She trembled. "Find me pleasing," she begged. "Do not afflict her so," said Telima to me. "Go to the kitchen," said I, "Kettle Slave." Telima turned and, in the stained tunic of rep-cloth, left the room, as she had been commanded. The music grew more wild. "Where now," I demanded of Midice, "is your insolence, your contempt!" "Be kind!" she cried. "Be kind to Midice!" The music grew even more wild. And then Ula, boldly before Clitus, tore from her own body the silk she wore and danced, her arms extended to him. He leaped to his feet and carried her from the room. I laughed. Then Thura, to my amazement, though a rence girl, dancing, revealed herself similarly to the great Thurnock, he only of the peasants, and he, with a great laugh, swept her from her feet and carried her from the room. "Do I dance for my life?" begged Midice. I drew the Gorean blade. "Yes," I said, "you do." And she danced superbly for me, every fiber of her beautiful body straining to please me, her eyes, each instant, pleading. Trying to read in mine her fate. At last, when she could dance no more, she fell at my feet, and put her head to my sandals. "Find me pleasing," she begged. "Find me pleasing, my Master!" I had had my sport." Raiders of Gor Book, page 115 Love Dance of the Wagons People "Dance," ordered Aphris. The trembling girl before her did not move. "Dance!" screamed Aphris, rising to her feet. "What shall I do?" begged the kneeling girl of Kamchak. She looked not too unlike Hereena, and was perhaps a similar sort of girl, raised and trained much the same. Like Hereena, of course, she wore the tiny golden nose ring. Kamchak spoke to her, very gently. "You are slave," he said. "Dance for your masters." The girl looked at him gratefully and she, with the others, rose to her feet and to the astounding barbarity of the music performed the savage love dances of the Kassars, the Paravaci, the Kataii, the Tuchuks. They were magnificent. One girl, the leader of the dancers, she who had spoken to Kamchak, was a Tuchuk girl, and was particularly startling, vital, uncontrollable, wild . It was then clear to me why the Turian men so hungered for the wenches of the Wagon Peoples. At the height of one of her dances, called the Dance of the Tuchuk Slave Girl, Kamchak turned to Aphris of Turia, who was watching the dance, eyes bright, as astounded as I at the savage spectacle. "I will see to it," said Kamchak, "when you are my slave, that you are taught that dance." Tuchuk slave love dance.... Nomads of Gor Book, page 98 |
| Earth Dance �I watched Aemilianus' slave emerging from the kitchen. I listened to the unobtrusive music of the musicians, who were sitting on a rug a few feet in front of, and to the left of, the table. I took anothersip of the black wine.� �The voluptuous blond slave began to lower certain of the lamps.� "What are you doing?" I asked her.� "Forgive me, Master," she said. She then hurried again to the kitchen. As she had done this work the light in the room was romantically softened, but an area, soft as well, of greater illumination had been left before the table. When she had left the room, the musicians, too, had stopped playing. This seemed interesting.� �The blond slave of Aemilianus then re-entered. She placed a large, folded square of sparkling white linen at the bottom of the table. She then lit a wide, large, low candle and placed this candle, on a plate, on the soft, wide square of folded linen. She then withdrew to the side.� �I looked at the white linen, and the candle, in the half darkness. I was startled.� �What memories this stirred in me!� �The musicians then began to play, softly. The girl emerged from the kitchen.� �There were sounds of pleasure, and surprise, from those about the table.� �The dark-haired girl, exquisite and lovely, stood in the light, on the tiles, back from the foot of the table, that we might well see her. Her hair was drawn severely back on her head. She wore what seemed to be a svelte, satin, off-the-shoulder, white sheath gown.�Twisted about her feet, over and under, were golden straps.� �The girl then turned gracefully before us, displaying the garments. I saw that her hair, severely drawn back on her head, was fastened behind the back of her head in a bun. I had known it would be. I had not forgotten.� �The girl, then, to the music, moved gracefully, turning, her bands held out, about the table, displaying herself and her garments for us. She then returned to her place on the tiles, at the foot of the table.� �I regarded her. How beautiful she was! She looked at me. Then, gracefully and decisively, to the music, she unbound her hair.� �There was applause for this at the table, the gentle striking of left shoulders, for she had done it well, and the significance of a woman's unbinding her hair before a man is well understood on Gor.� �She then, reaching to the left side, beneath her arm, of what seemed to be a white sheath gown, undid a fastening, and then others, at the side of her body, her waist, her thigh, and knee, and then, gracefully, the Gorean music unobtrusive but melodious in the background, removed the garment. I saw then that a rectangle of white cloth, cleverly tucked and sewn, had been used to simulate the off-the-shoulder, white sheath gown on Earth. Such an actual gown, of course, had not been available to her on Gor.� There was gentle, appreciative applause.� �She now stood before us in what seemed to be a brief, silken, off-the-shoulder slip.� �The girl then sat on the tiles before us, but back a bit, where we, sitting cross-legged at the low table, could well see her. She extended her right leg, gracefully. It was flexed and, as her foot was placed fully upon the floor, her toes were pointed. These two things, respectively, curved her calf deliciously and extended the line of her beauty. Her left leg was back, its ankle beneath her right thigh. She looked at me, and then, bending forward, removed the golden straps wound about and under her right foot. In the restaurant she had worn golden pumps, with wisps of golden straps. She looked at me. Well did she, and the others, know the significance of removing footwear before a free man. She cast aside the straps she had taken from her right foot. Then, putting her hands back, swiftly and smoothly, beautifully, to the music, without rising, she changed her position on the tiles. Her left thigh now faced me. Her left leg was now gracefully extended, flexed and toes pointed. Her left thigh, and calf, and ankle and foot were marvelous. Her right foot, as her left previously had been, was back, the right ankle now beneath her right thigh. She then removed the golden straps from her left foot, and cast them aside. She looked at me.� �She had bared her feet before a free man. The golden straps she had used to simulate the footwear which she had worn on Earth were golden binding straps. They were the nearest thing she could find, within her limited resources, I gathered, to what she had worn in the restaurant. I did not object. They resembled somewhat, and well suggested, that footwear.� �Such straps, incidentally, are commonly used to bind the hands and feet of women. There was gentle applause for the girl, and murmurs of appreciation. The footwear had been well removed.� �She then rose to her feet and stood again before us, but now barefoot upon the tiles.� �She then reached again to her left side, and undid a fastening there, below her left arm, and then another below it, and then one at her hip. She then unwrapped the brief sliplike garment from her body, and dropped it to one side.� �The brassiere had been simulated cleverly with soft white silk. Her beauty, soft, and almost as though protesting its confinement, strained against this silk. Too, between her breasts, this silk had been twisted and knotted, this making even more evident the sweet contours of her beauty, and the sturdy, silken restraint placed upon it. The panties, too, were simulated with white silk, which, in a narrow rectangle, had been wrapped twice about her hips and tucked in at her waist. There was no nether closure to this silk, of course. The Gorean slave girl is not permitted to shield her intimacies without the explicit permission of her master.� �Besides these two garments, intended, respectively, to suggest the brassiere and panties of an Earth girl, she still wore, of course, the light, narrow white scarf, this twisted and wound twice about her throat, the ends thrown over her left shoulder.� �The girl then, to the music, put back her head and put her hands behind her back, and, reaching high behind her back, this lifting her breasts beautifully, strained for a moment, and then, one by one, twisting slightly, undid the hooks on the confining, tight silk.� �Our eyes met.� �The silk was then dropped to one side, "Superb," said Glyco.� �She then reached to the white scarf on her throat and, beautifully, to the music, undid it one turn.� �She then, to the music, drew it beautifully, slowly, from her throat, and, gracefully, dropped it to one side. She wore, of course, now revealed, a close-fitting, gleaming slave collar.� �She lifted her head, and, with her fingers, delicately indicated and displayed the collar.� �She then stood before us as a barefoot, half-naked, collared slave.� �Gorean applause, and murmurs of appreciation, greeted this aspect of her performance.� �Our eyes met again.� �She then reached with her right hand to her waist and undid the tuck in the silk which was wrapped about her hips. Slowly and beautifully then, to the music, with both hands, she unwound the silk, and then dropped it to the tiles.� "Superb!" said Glyco.� �She then crawled to me, on her hands and knees, her head humbly down. Then, when she reached me, she lowered herself to her belly and, extending her right hand, touched me on the knee. She lifted her head. "You are my master," she said, "and I am your slave, and I love you!" Guardsman of Gor, Page 247 |
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