Dancer of Gor

"Oh?" I asked. To be sure, I was a slave, in my heart, as well as now, on this world, whether I wished it or not, and helplessly, in all public legality. "Surely you know that if such a thing were done to you," he said, "no man thereafter could look you except as a slave."

I laughed. "I am a slave," I said.

"It is so barbaric," he said.

"Perhaps," I said.

"How exciting you will be with your ears pierced," he said.

I smiled.

"You do not mind?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Interestingly enough," he said, "once it is done, afterwards, few girls mind. Indeed, many are thrilled with what has been done to them, and are eager to display themselves to men in their new condition, and delight and revel in the new ornaments which they may then wear, so excitingly enhancing their appearance."

"I can understand that," I said.

"You see," he said, "it makes available to them a diverse and fantastic array of new adornments."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"How beautiful yo will be in such adornments!"

"It is my hope I will be pleasing to Masters," I said.

"You must understand, of course," he said, "that there are dangers inherent in having your ears pierced."

What dangers, Master?" I asked.

"Those attendant on having been made additionally desirable to strong men," he said.

"I understand," I said. I had recognized, of course, that such things as my garb, or lack of it, my brand, burned into my body, my collar, which I could not remove, placed on me by men, and such, and, above all, my condition, that of slave, had made me far more sexually stimulatory to men than I would otherwise have been but I had never, along the same lines, given much thought, or at least in detail, to the idea that, in this culture, similar effects might be consequent on things which, from the point of view of a girl from Earth, were as simple and familiar as having pierced ears or wearing earrings. To be sure, pierced ears, and wearing earrings, were stimulatory, too, I was sure, even to men of Earth, or, at least, to those who were capable of responding to such things, the piercings of the woman" s flesh, with its allegory of penetration, of her appropriate submission to the mastery, and the use of these piercings, making and recollecting them, to mount upon her beautiful adornments. I had sensed the barbaric and sexual connotations of these sorts of things on Earth, and, perhaps because of them, had always feared to have my ears pierced there. Here, of course, it was going to be done to me, whether I wished it or not. I was not discontented. I was, indeed, extremely pleased.

"I am eager to see you in such ornaments," he whispered.

"Kiss me," I whispered.

My hands were together behind my back. I could not part them without permission. "Perhaps if your ears were pierced," he said, "I should find your request irresistible."

"Then I hope, Master," I said, "that they shall soon be pierced." "They will be," he said.

I trembled, then, a bit, understanding then, a little more than before, what it might be, on this world, to have pierced ears.

He took his hands from my hips and put them further above me, to remove from my waist the double belt of coins.

I pressed my body against his.

"Were you given permission to approach me?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master." Swiftly I drew back, so that our bodies were not touching. But my breasts were but an ince from his broad, strong chest. And they were bound, and covered, in only tissures of slave silk. I felt much alive, and frustrated, and hot, and charged, and helpless. I was under his control, totally, I was even "bound by his will." My midriff was bared. This too, excited me, its exposure, and its nearness to him. I wanted to thrust my belly, in its low-hanging drape of delicate silk, against him. I felt his hands behind me, beneath mine, where I had them together, bound by his will.

"Please!" I begged.

I felt him disengage the large clasp at the back of the belt, to which both strands of coins, on each side, were fastened.

"Please," I said.

He took the belt and dropped it into the nearby sack, with the coined necklace and the coins I had picked up and brought back from the dancing floor, weighty in my lifted silk.

He looked down at me. My head came only to his shoulders.

"Do you beg?" he asked.

"Yes!" I said.

"Who begs?" he asked.

"Doreen begs," I said.

"Doreen what?" he asked.

Doreen, the slave, begs!" I said.

"To my lips, slave," he said.

Gratefully, eagerly, I pressed forward, rising on my toes, he half lifting me, his hands under my arms, holding me.

I melted to him.

"Unbind me!" I begged. I wanted to put my arms about him.

"Do you wish to be beaten?" he asked.

"No, Master!" I said.

We kissed, so together, the two of us, as to be almost one thing, and I almost swooned in his power. I fought, seemingly only half conscious for a moment, to keep my hands together behind my back. then he put me down and back a little. "I am still bound!" I moaned.

"And you may stay that way," he said, huskily.