written by cyn
the anger, the defiance showing in smoldering liquid pools of blue, the laughter light and joyous in the Inn as she suddenly stiffens, fear and wariness creeping over delicate features as she slowly turns, eyes wide as she sees the One that has collared her as she has never seen him before, lithe body beginning to tremble as she turns and retreats a few steps and then looking back over a sun-kissed shoulder, sees his smile and stops, her voice defiant as it shouts, "I am free!"
though only clad in the almost transparent scarlet dancing silks of Gor, her back is straight, head held defiantly high, determined not to be tamed, not to submit ... delicate features revealing anger at the seemingly amused spectators within the Inn, haughty blue eyes glaring at the smiles, looking from face to face
fists clenched, she straightens her form all alone within the sand pit, all eyes upon her, the dancing lights of the torches and the fire reflecting beautifully off sun-kissed flesh as she turns to face her new Master, his steel sparkling even now about her neck, her voice quivering somewhat as it screams to him in defiance, slim body trembing, "You will never tame me!!"
she stands within the pit, the rage she feels trapped inside, flipping crimson waves of silken hair back with a haughty air, flying back from delicate features, cascading wildly over slim shoulders, the strong pivot of her step showing her anger, her refusal to withdraw and submit and then she leaps and twists to the continued low beat of the music, lithe body and fiery locks flying about her taut body as she turns, red silks clinging to every volumptuous curve, holding her hands up as if in protection
her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she looks into her Master's eyes, pulse pounding visibly at her slender throat and then turns once again, fleeing to the edge of the pit in her feeble attempts to escape, crying out quietly in frustration, feeling helpless in the knowledge that there is no escape, head dropping as her rage slowly wears down, the aching ... longing of a girl beginning to twistin slave belly
and then slowly, almost feeling it instead of hearing it, the music begins again, she hesitates ... former freedom still current in mixed thoughts, trembling to know she must obey and then to the barbaric, intoxicating music of the flute and drums, she begins to dance ... the movements of delicate hands, the movements of a proud girl even now who lifts her chin high to show his steel marking each movement, a girl who must now live to please the bold and handsome Master whose binding fiber she had felt, whose collar now tightens around a slender neck
her head falls back, sleek body arching unaware as she hears the soft melodious tune fill the Inn, breasts rising high as if caught in a sudden wave of desire, throat exposed in mute offering as she falls into thoughts of him, the beating of the drums pushing her body to turn in circles like those in her mind ... turning, not knowing where to stop
arms reaching upward through silken hair to the empty air, reaching to him, ruby red lips move soundlessly in her plea, palms turning upwards, beseeching him, the fire in her belly growing unchecked and then dropping to her belly to crawl to him, showing great respect for her Master, moving well-rounded hips back and forth as she moves to him, demonstrating her total submission to her Master, remembering how she begged for his steel, the proof of their love and growing passion
