Belt Dance

This dance requires a little explanation. Firstly, a girl was asked to write a belt dance as an assignment. her home is in Port Kar, and this is traditional dance of that city. she struggled with it for a while, before stumbling upon the idea of using it for a kind of capture dance -- one that tells what happens after the capture.

The second part is to simply explain the format of a belt dance. This is a dance that is traditionally danced by a girl and a Master. The name comes from the stipulation that she must keep her head below the Master's belt at all times, even if it means she must writhe on the ground because He decides to sit. To this girl, this was an incredible opportunity to write about the interaction between a slave and her Master. The complete submission she must give, the true meaning of slavery. And this is what a girl created.

Note: girl has tried to divide these posts into pairs, separated by *****. The actions that are between ... and in normal print are those of the Master. Those of the girl are between ~* *~ and are italicized. ~wry smile~ and yes, girl knows this dance is a long one. she thought of each pair as a single posting.

NOTE: I recently had cause to redo this dance. My current home was having a Sardar Festival, and while I am no longer a slave, I thought it'd be fun to take a few dances and fling them into the world once more. During this, I realized how much my writing style has changed, and yet stayed the same. So, following is the re-written dance, with the original one posted after it.

Also, while I appreciate the championing of an unknown individual, I would like to state categorically that the sleen in that room using this dance is, in fact, me. This is the only way that I could think of proving this without involving others or divulging personal information about myself. After all, why should I expose myself and those I care about to any further scrutiny by someone who doesn't care to expose themselves further than naming themselves "Gorean or Guest"? When making the type of accusations you have, I find it very ironic that you don't have the guts to stand up on your own and identify yourself in the least.

Again, I appreciate the effort to make sure someone else doesn't try to use my work, but it is unnecessary in this instance. Also, if you truly expect to elicit respect for your words, I would strongly urge you to at least use a usename other than "Gorean or Guest," or "Hmmmmm." The only reason I'm bothering to respond to you is that sleen is a name I like, I've used in the past, and, who knows, may use in the future. I don't want that name dragged through the mud by someone who hasn't the common courtesy to identify themselves.

I wish you well, Gorean or Guest. And, I hope everyone enjoys this dance.

~He stalks to the center of the sandpit...strong, tanned arms filled with a kicking and screaming slavegirl...long, silky black tresses stream down over His arm, tangling in large hands...with a disgusted grunt, He drops her onto the sand...then simply points to the ground before His boots~

~*a tear slides down her delicate face...high cheekbones streaked with dirt...blazing dark eyes lift high...staring at the Master as she lies in a heap on the ground...small hands fist in the sand as her chin rises, lush lips curling into a snarl as she glares up at this...Man...Who dares claim to be her Master...rags...torn and stained...revealing tantalizing glimpses of pale, golden flesh...are all that cover her lush body...the last remnants of the robes of concealment she refuses to exchange for the silk of a slavegirl*~

~icey blue eyes stare down at the dirty, dishevelled girl...seeing the beauty that lies behind the dirt...the pride and fire in the girl's belly...knowing that He will Master this girl's fears...that He will show her the true freedom and joy she gains by becoming His...His voice, harsh and commanding, snaps out~

Nadu.

~*lush lips tremble with words unsaid...a delicate hand angrily dashes aside the tears that tremble on the end of long lashes, dark eyes flare with heat at the command...she lies there a moment longer...trembling as He simply stares down at her...His eyes hard and cold...unyielding...one strong hand moves to the whip coiled at His side...a sob catches in her throat as she scrambles to her knees...her back already stinging from her past mistakes...grudgingly, she parts her knees...delicate hands fisting as they rest on her thighs...dark eyes flaring before they sink to the floor...her chin held high in the air*~

~a boot kicks out and spreads her thighs wider...then nudges her hands...His lips, strong and full, curve as He watches her hands uncurl...slender fingers trembling as they open on her luscious thighs...He circles her once...His hand gentle but firm as He straightens her back...feeling the soft yielding of her body a moment before she flinches away...coming to a stop before the kneeling girl...a deep, low laugh sounds in the air as He sees the way her body trembles...more from anger and frustration, He knows, than from fear...a strong hand reaches down...long, hard fingers wrap around her chin, lifting it high, forcing her hot, angry eyes to meet His...He holds her gaze as He instructs~

If you wish to live another night, girl, you will dance for Me. On your knees, or your back or belly, I care not. But, your head is not to rise above My belt. ~jerking her chin up as she tries to pull away, icey blue eyes boring down into her hot dark eyes~ Is that clear, slut? If you do not please Me tonight, it shall be your last.

~releasing her chin with a last, firm squeeze, He steps back, and motions to the musicians...full, sensuous lips curving as He hears the tabor begin...the flute and cehzar join in...His thumbs hook into His belt as He watches her struggle with what He has just said~

~*the struggle apparent on her tear-stained face...delicate hands lift...wiping at the streaks of dirt...slender fingers comb through rich dark hair, flicking it back over shoulders shaking with repressed sobs...stormy dark eyes, full of fear and anger...and the longing she burries deep within...lift to simply stare at the Master...the back of her hand presses to trembling lips as He lifts a strong hand, ready to strike...with a soft cry that carries over the music of the players, she falls back in the sand...and begins to dance*~

~*knees still bent and held wide, her body arches back...shoulders and head pressed to the ground, midnight strands of silk fanning over the pale sand...slender arms lift high overhead...delicate hands weaving through the air...her motions..halting...jerky...as she struggles to overcome her fears...the dark anger that still fills her soul...slowly...long lashes fluttering down over heated dark eyes, determined to crush down the maelstrom of emotions, to simply lose herself in the music...her movements smooth out...gaining grace...even beauty...as her shoulders begin to sway, led by the pull of her arms as delicate hands seem to reach through the air...her back arching as she slowly rises...the crown of her head still balanced lightly on the sand as her body sways to the music of the flute and cehzar*~

~watching her shimmering eyes close...He lowers His hand to His belt...hooking both thumbs in the black leather, He moves forward...standing at the deep V of her thighs...icey eyes studying the long line of the kajira before Him...smiling, almost cruelly, as He studies the girl...His gaze travels up slender thighs...to the deliciously pink slash of her heat...over the tattered remains of her robes...the full swells of trembling breasts...finally resting on the lush lips of a slave~

~*her body...sore and bruised, yet still supple and graceful...stretches into the discipline of a Gorean bow...slender, golden arms sway through the air as she lifts from the sand with a swift undulation of her body...dark eyes fly open, lush lips curl into a snarl as the tip of her delicate nose just nudges against a heated ridge of flesh throbbing beneath the cloth of His trousers...nostrils flaring as the scent of His musk fills her senses for an ihn...midnight pools, dancing with inward fire glare up the long line of this...Man...her dance forgotten for an ihn as firey eyes meet ice...a furious toss of her head sends a rain of silken strands over her shoulders...falling down to swirl around slender waist...full breasts rise and freeze as her breath catches for an endless moment...caught by the strength and power of His silent gaze*~

~He chuckles softly as the lovely slave rises...His hips arch, pressing her lips and nose to the length of steel straining against His trousers...as firey eyes lift, His icey gaze gives no hint of His feelings as it bores down into flames, silently commanding her to dance...as she remains motionless, His boot begins to beat an impatient tattoo against the sand, a whisper away from the gaping petals of her sex~

~*the rapid pulses of her heart sounding no louder in her ears than the urgent beats of the tabor...her eyes caught and held by His icey gaze...she obeys the silent imperative of this Man...this Master...her body moves sinuously with the flow of the music...the crown of her head just meeting the black leather of His belt...then arching back as the curve of her ass lifts from upturned heels...hips swaying...the ragged edge of her robes slithering over taught, golden skin...her eyes never leaving His as her head falls back...keeping below His belt...ignoring the quiver of fear as the coiled leather of the kurt brushes over a silken cheek...slender arms lift to shoulder height, palms raised, almost in supplication as she fights to ignore the deepest longing of her soul*~

~sensuous lips curl as He watches her...a boot lifts...crushing harshly into the tender slaveflesh between her thighs...as her eyes flare once more with the fire of her anger and rebellion, He leans down...long fingers biting deeply into her chin as He throws her to the ground...and turns His back~

~*shuddering as His boot crushes against the heat of her sex...a growl lifts from curled lips...dark eyes flashing fire...then fear as He catches her chin...feeling the controlled strength of this Man, knowing He can snap her neck with a careless gesture and with as little thought as He can snap His fingers for another girl...a scream rips from her throat as the sand rushes up to slam into her back...breathless...tears fill her eyes as the pace of the music picks up in urgency...sobbing as true fear for her life rises, crushing out everything else...she rolls from her back...full breasts crushed to the ground as she bellies across the sand...knowing she must please this Master...she writhes between His widespread boots...sand filling silken tresses as slender, golden arms lift...all thought of grace and beauty forgotten as she simply implores Him for another chance*~

~icey blue eyes lower to the girl writhing in the sand at His feet...knowing that she cannot know how beautiful she is now...lost in her fear as she begs a Master for the first time...this once proud Woman, finding her new place in the world...full breasts heaving...swollen nipples rasping against her rags...thighs splayed as her hips lift instinctively...He reaches down, grasps the cloth hiding her body...and rips them from her~

~*as the robes are torn from her body...her back arches, posing her body without thought...full breasts lifted as if for the touch of a Master...thighs wide as her hips arch up further...her mind tumbling without coherence...filling with the simple need to please...urged on by fear...yet growing into something deeper...fuller...the sound of tearing fabric seeming to cast aside the last barriers within...as she delves down into the darkened corners of her soul...lush lips curve softly...long lashes flutter down...then lift...as her head tosses against the sand...hair a dusky cloud of midnight silk flowing over golden shoulders...delicate hands lower...to stroke down the curve of her body...then up over the flat expanse of belly to lift and cup her breasts...pinching...pulling the nipples till her back arches, shaking the dark points of heat until the golden globes lift from her body and jiggle lewdly...mindless moans and whimpers spill from her lips as she writhes in an agony of slaveheat...the fears and longings and angers of the day coalescing to create an inferno of desire*~

~a dark brow rises as He sees the change in her movements...icey orbs slide down her body...taking in the pose...the unconscious presentation of a slave to her Master...sensuous lips curve for the first time...as His boot lifts again...pressing firmly into the heat of her slaveflesh...circling over the jutting pearl of her need...watching her writhe like a sleen in heat~

~*arching in an agony of need...her body simply implodes as she writhes on the ground beneath His boot...the ecstasy of the moment carrying all before it as her slaveheart races...her lungs gasp for air...dark eyes fly open...meeting the gaze of her Master as His boot lifts and presses against her lips...delicate hands grasp the boot...mind whirling as the patterns of her thoughts slowly settle into a new form...an inner exultation rising as she realizes, accepts and...revels...in the knowledge of her true identity...lush lips press to the boot again and again...pink tongue darting out to capture the nectar of her slaveheat left on the sole...licking the boot clean...then, her head arching back, exposing the long line of her throat, she presses the boot to her slender neck...two words tumbling without conscious intention from parted lips*~

la kajira

~with a low, long laugh, He presses His boot down upon her throat for an ihn...robbing her of breath...then leans down, and in one, smooth motion lifts her from the sand, tossing her over His shoulder...a strong hand squeezing her ass, He turns and strides from the sand...tossing a few coins to the musician as He takes her off to His quarters to teach her the true meaning of those words~