Dancer of Gor

"If masters please," I said. I would be more than happy to settle for the whip! "Perhaps," he said, "for the whip of the furs."

"Oh, yes, Master!" cried Tupita. "Yes! Yes!"

"My anger with you," said Mirus, "I think was in part motivated by anger with myself, that I so easily succumbed to your charms."

"Yes, Master," I said. I had never doubted that.

"Do not entirely blame yourself, Master," called Tupita. "I am sure she was a very clever lure girl, a brilliantly lovely and skillful lure girl!" I did not think this contribution by Tupita was really necessary.

"Yes," said Mirus, looking at me, "that is true."

He then lifted me up, and carried me back, away from the fire, into the darkness.

"Use her well!" cried Tupita, "Make her pay! Teach her who is master!" He then threw me to my side in the leaves, in the darkness. I lay there, my legs pulled up, frightened.

"I am somewhat angry," Mirus informed me.

"Yes, Master," I said. That was only too obvious.

"I am first girl, slave," called Tupita to me. "See that you serve him well! If you do not serve him well, I will beat a bucket of slave oil out of you!" "Yes, Mistress!" I called to her.

Mirus crouched beside me. He thrust me to my back. He unceremoniously flung my legs apart. I, serve him well! It seemed clearly his attention, at least at first, to help himself. I did not expect to be given much more consideration that a free woman taken in the streets of a burning city, subjected to hasty loot use, thence to be dragged away stripped after he captor, her hands bound behind her, a rope on her neck.

"Yes, you did well," said Mirus, almost a growl.

"Forgive me, Master!" I said.

I was then, helpless in his angry grasp, put to his pleasure. It was only when he was done with me, so abruptly, and I looked up into his eyes that I saw them, to my relief, cleared of anger. It had not been necessary to slay me. The thing was done now. Mirus was now again himself, the Mirus I remembered from Brundisium. The debt, if debt it were, on some deep level, had been paid. Once again I was only another slave.

"You may touch me," he said.

"Yes, Master," I whispered.

Once again, later, he put me to his use.

"Did she serve well?" called Tupita.

"Yes," said Mirus. "She served well."

I was relieved to hear his asservation. I did not doubt but what Tupita, love me thought she might, would as first girl have put me well and helplessly under the whip if he had not been satisfied.

Mirus looked down at me. "And in the end," he asked, "who is master, who is slave?"

"You are the master," I said. "I am the slave."

"And who is victorious?" he asked.

"You are, Master," I said, "and totally, and I am nothing." I did not tell him that, we were both victorious, that he was victorious in his victory, and I, a woman, was victorious in my utter defeat.

"Please, Master," I begged, "touch me more." Mirus was a master in the handling of women. He well knew how to subdue us, and make us beg for further subjugation.

"There is another whom I would touch," he said. "You may crawl back to the fire."

Head down, still muchly aroused, I crawled back to the fire. He followed me and began to untie Tupita. "Is Tuka not beautiful?" asked Tupita. "Yes," he said, "but you are a thousand times more beautiful." I did not think that was really true. Certainly at any rate not a thousand times! "I love you, Master!" she exclaimed, being unbound. "Perhaps you care for me, a little?" "Yes," he smiled, "a little." "A slave is pleased," she said. She knelt on the backs of her heels, her hands on her thighs, looking up, happily, at Mirus. "Kneel higher," he said, "off your heels." "Master?" she asked. This had brought her into suitable cuffing position. "Did you not speak at various times during the evening," he asked, "without having requested permission?" "Yes, Master," she said. "Forgive me, Master." She then was flung to the side, cuffed, and lay on the dirt, to the side. "Return to your former position," he said.

She returned, apprehensively, to the high kneeling position, before him. The left side of her face was a flaming red. He then took up the slave whip which was there, where I had dropped it before him, earlier, and looped it about her neck. He then, by this means, pulled her up straighter, and holding her head up, looked down into her eyes. "Did you think that in my love for you," he asked, "I would cease to be your master?"

"No, Master," she said, happily, looking up at him.

Even in the greatness of his love for her he would not cease to be her master. Indeed, had he done so, how could she have loved him so much?

He then cast aside the whip and lifted her gently in his arms, and carried her back into the shadows, away from the fire.

I was on all fours, by the fire. I looked to the stranger. I was still muchly aroused.

"Get dressed," he said.

In chagrin I found my "garments," the slave strip and belt. I knelt back, and put them on.

"On all fours," he said, "return to the slave wagon."