Dancer of Gor

"I do not know!" I could certainly imagine myself kneeling before a Greek or Roman master, or a harnessmaker in Damascus, his Christian slave, in the 14th Century, or a Barbary prince, a captured, harem-silked English lady who had not had time to learn something of the touch of men, in the 19th, and doing so. Indeed, I had wondered sometime if, in a former life, or lives, I might not have done so. The thought of this sort of thing, oddly enough, did not seem unfamiliar to me. To be sure, I have deep and urgent female needs, and had had them, even on Earth. To be sure, they had not been ignited on Earth as they were ignited now, and, too, at this time, of course, I did not have any idea as to how deep and urgent and progressively overwhelming, they could become later. I was still only, in effect, a new slave, and new to the rigors of my condition. I had not yet begun to learn my collar.

He looked at me.

"Surely I am not the first woman from Earth whom you have had at your feet, begging," I said.

"No," he admitted.

"What?" I asked.

"No," he repeated.

"More than one?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

"Oh," I said. Immediately I felt a wave of jealousy for those other girls. "We learn quickly enough to beg on Gor, do we not?" I asked. "Yes," he said.

"I am here," I said. "I am at your feet. I am naked, collared and owned. I beg use. I can do nothing more." I looked up at him. I must now wait. He would do with me as he saw fit.

"Perhaps I should send you out on the floor," he said.

"Not tonight," I begged. "Use me yourself!"

"The schedules could be rearranged," he mused.

"As Master wills," I said, bitterly. I was, of course, at the mercy of his schedules.

"Perhaps I could warm you for Hendow" s customers," he speculated. "Warm me?" I laughed, bitterly. "I am already flaming!"

"If I sent you forth on the floor in your present condition," he said, "you would probably belly to the first male whose sandals you saw."

"Perhaps, Master," I said, bitterly. If he was so cruel as to deny me his touch, of course, I would, driven by my needs, have to made do elsewhere. It was Mirus, of course, who had not lit these flames in my belly. It was for him that they burned. The particular man is terribly important to the woman. He is a part of the whole that enflames her. To be sure, the slave is so needful and alive that it is not hard for her to see the beauty in any man. If I were sent forth upon the floor, however, in my condition, as it was, I do not think I would have bellied to the first man I saw. I would still have been able to look about, and select one out, one suitable incendiary to the wholeness of my need, and then prostrate myself before him. no, I was not so desperate that I would have bellied to the first man I saw. At that time, I did not even realize I could ever be so desperate as to do that. I would learn later, however, that I was wrong.

"But if you were to do that," he said, "it might not fit in as well as one might wish with the new image of the tavern, as we have now upgraded our dA©cor, slave silk for the girls, and such, and service."

"Oh?" I asked.

"We would not want them thinking the paga slaves of the tavern of Hendow were too easy," he said.

"Of course not," I said, puzzled.

"They must play hard to get," he said.

"A slave?" I asked. I could imagine being punished terribly for such a thing. We must run to a man eagerly, at his least summons. We could be «gotten» as easily as by a snapping of the fingers.

"Some fellows would like to think that the girls had at least taken a look at him before they flung themselves to their belly at his feet."

"I understand," I said.

"Of course he may simply pick out one that pleases his fancy, and summon her to his table, and command her.

"Of course, Master," I said.

"You seem puzzled," he said.

"How, really," I asked, "are we to play hard to get?"

"You must make certain he has paid for his drink first," he said.