Dancer of Gor

I lifted my head, in its hood, to him. "Do not leave me," I begged. "Stay with me!"

He said nothing. This was in accordance, of course, with the custom in Brundisium, and in certain other cities, that in the light of which I had been given my first ravishing.

I then heard the snap of a slave whip outside the leather curtain, rather close to it, and a girl" s cry of pain. "We are going to the alcove, slave!" I heard. "Yes, Master!" she cried. It was Sita. I heard her then, probably, judging by the jangling of slave bells, being conducted, stumbling, to an alcove. Probably he had her had at his hip, held by her hair. "Yes, Master!" she was weeping, her voice fading. "Yes, Master!"

"Please," I begged, frightened. "Please!"

He was silent.

"Please, Master," I wheedled.

He had been kind. It seemed possible to me then, that he might be weak, like the men of Earth, that perhaps I could manipulate him. What a fool I was! Did I not understand he was a Gorean male?

"Please, Master!" I begged, prettily.

His only answer was a cuff that threw me to one side, startled, where I crouched, disbelievingly, at the end of the chain. Then he took me and thrust me on my back on the furs and, as he had before, when we had first come to the alcove, manacled my hands at the sides of my head. He then removed the shackle from my left ankle.

My lip had been cut by his blow. I could taste blood there. "Master?" I asked. Then I felt him, and I could not have stopped him, had I wished to do so, as I was chained, remove the white-silk ribbon from my collar. In a moment he had fastened something else there, in its place, doubtless another ribbon, doubtless the red-silk ribbon which had been given to him earlier by Mirus. He jerked it down on the collar, snugly.

He was then, I think, crouching near me. I pulled at the manacles. I was helpless. There was another trickle of blood on my leg. He put his thumb in this and scrawled a «Kef» on my belly, the first letter of "Kajira." Then I felt the whip thrown beside me. "Master!" I wept. "Forgive me, if I have been displeasing, Master! Please, forgive me!" I recoiled, whimpering, from a kick from the side of his foot. Then I heard him unbuckling the leather curtain, and leaving. I was helpless in the alcove. "Master!" I called after him. "Master!" I tried to rise but, by the chains, was prevented from doing so. I sand back, miserable, on the furs. He had been kind to me, and the first thing I had tried to do was to take advantage of him, to bend him to my will. I had then been cuffed. Then he had chained me. Too, he had thrown the whip against me, and had kicked me, showing his contempt for me, a caught, would-be manipulative slave. Then he had left. I moaned. What a fool I had been! he was Gorean! Had I not understood that it was I who was the slave, and he the master? Perhaps the whip had been flung against me to remind me of my subjectability to it. Or perhaps he had flung it there that my master, or his man, might understand, when he came to unchain me, that at the least failure in my pleasingness I was due for a whipping. Yet he himself had not used it on me. That was perhaps yet another evidence of his kindness, or of his understanding and patience with me, his recognition that I was still naught but an ignorant and naA?ve novice with respect to the rigors of my bondage. Had I irritated him further, however, I do not doubt but what he himself would have used it on me. As it was, he had not been pleased when he had left me. If he were to use me again, in the future, I feared he would be merciless with me, treating me as the foolish, and errant Earth woman I had been.

"Master?" I asked. I had heard the curtain being parted. "Master!" I said, elatedly. "Master?"

but then I felt my ankles flung apart.

"Oh!" I said, suddenly and smoothly penetrated, deeply.

I lay there, absolutely still.

This was not the same man!

I did not dare to move, so penetrated.

He made an animal noise.

"Master?" I asked.

I was very alive to him, so much so that I was unwilling to move.

"Dance," said Tupita, apparently from the opening of the alcove. There was laughter there, too, mostly that of men. The curtain I realized had not been drawn!

"He wants you to dance, slave," laughed Tupita. "You are a dancer. Go ahead, dance."

I moaned.

"Did you see the «Kef» on her belly?" asked Tupita.

"Yes," said a man.

"It belongs there," she said.

"Yes," agreed another fellow.

"There is now a red-silk ribbon on your collar, Doreen," said Tupita. "What is the meaning of that?"

"That I have been red-silked, Mistress," I said.

"Yes," said Tupita.

"Close the curtain, Mistress!" I begged.

"Why?" asked Tupita. "Are you modest?"

"No, Mistress," I sobbed. Slaves are not permitted modesty.

"You are now only a red-silk slut, Doreen," she said, "no different from the rest of us!"

"No, Mistress," I said.

"And do not forget it," she said.

"No, Mistress," I said.

There was laughter.

"Do you hear pounding?" asked Tupita.

"She has already been pounded," said a man.

There was laughter.