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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:29:02 GMT -5
She has displayed herself hitherto before him rather as an object in which, hopefully, he might take an interest. A woman may do this, of course from many motives; such as fear or her desire to be purchased by an affluent master, only one of which might be her authentic, poignant desire to be found pleasing by him. for her own sake. In such displays there can be, though there often is not, a subtle psychological distinction, detectable in the behavior, between the merchandise, so to speak, and the girl who is displaying herself as merchandise. In the first case, where no true distinction exists, which is the authentic case, the girl in effect says, "I am for sale. Buy me, and love me!" In the second case, the girl in effect says, "Here is a fine slave. Are you not interested in her?" In the second case of couse, the Gorean is interested, though the girl may not understand this clearly, in not only the merchandise but the girl who is displaying the merchandise. She might truly be terrified if she understood that it was herself he intended to own, and in fact, was going to own, she the exhibitor of the merchandise as well as she, the merchandise exhibited. Goreans, as I have mentioned, are interested in owning the whole woman, in all her sweetness, depth, complexity and individualism. Guardsmen of Gor
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Post by sweetlarma on Jul 14, 2006 17:26:26 GMT -5
oral sex
QUOTE: Then he was kissing me about my hips and belly, and then, much lower, above the midpoint of the interior of my thighs. "Master," I said. "Oh!" I said. "Oh!" His hands, and his tongue, and his kisses, were unbelievable ~Dancer of Gor~
QUOTE: She looked up at me. "Your girl awaits your pleasure, Master," she said. "Do you desire to serve me?" I asked. "Yes, Master," she said, "very much." I lay beside her and she bent over me, her lips and mouth to my body. I felt her small, warm tongue. She stopped, and looked up at me. "Surely I am now a complete slave," she said. "You have not yet begun to learn your slavery," I said. "Yes, Master," she said, bending her head down again. I felt her tongue, and that lovely auburn hair, on my body. "Arlene," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. "Is it a slave girl's first duty to be interesting?" I asked. "No," she said, "That is a concern of free women." "What is me first duty of a slave girl?" I asked. "To be pleasing to the master," she said. "Let that be your concern," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. Then the lovely slave bent again to her sweet task. ~Marauders of Gor~
QUOTE: When her struggles had subsided I began, half biting, half kissing, to move up her calf to the delights of the sensitive areas behind her knees. "Please!" she wept. "Be quiet, pretty little Slave Girl," I mumbled. Then, kissing, but letting her feel the teeth which could, if I chose, tear at her flesh, I moved to the interior of her thigh. Slowly, with my mouth, by inches, I began to claim her. "Please," she said. "What is wrong?" I asked. "I find I want to yield to you," she whispered. "Do not be frightened," I told her. "No," she said. "You do not understand." I was puzzled. "I want to yield to you," she whispered, "-as a slave girl!" "You will so yield to me," I told her. "No!" she cried. "No!" "You will yield to me," I told her, "as a slave girl to her master." "No!" she cried. "No! No!" I continued to kiss her, to touch her. "Please stop," she wept. "Why?" I asked. "You are making me a slave," she whispered. "I will not stop," I told her. "Please," she wept. "Please!" "Perhaps," I said to her, "the Goreans were right?" "No!" she cried. "No!" "Perhaps that is what you desire," I said, "to yield with the utterness of a female slave." "Never!" she cried, weeping in fury. "Leave me!" "Not until you have become a slave," I told her. She cried out in misery. "I do not want to be a slave!" But when I had touched the most intimate beauties of her she became uncontrollable, writhing, and in my arms I knew the feeling of a slave girl and such, for the moment, was the beautiful Elizabeth Cardwell, helpless and mine, female and slave. Now her lips and arms and body, now those only of an enamored wench in bondage, sought mine, acknowledging utterly and unreservedly, shamelessly and hopelessly, with helpless abandon, their master. I was astonished at her for even the touch of the whip, her involuntary response to the Slaver's Caress, had not seemed to promise so much. She cried out suddenly as she found herself fully mine. Then she scarcely dared to move. "You are claimed, Slave Girl," I whispered to her. ~Nomads of Gor~
QUOTE: His hands were upon my shoulders. He dragged me upward to his pressing mouth, pulling me against the wrist straps which held my wrists at the shield's edges. I thought he might tear me from the shield. Then he flung me back, arched across its surface. I felt his lips at my belly and thighs. I could not protect myself from the fierce ardor to which I must submit. Then again I cried out, lost in my slave's love of him, my master. ~Slave Girl of Gor~
QUOTE: During the night I had unchained her, save for the steel and chain on her left ankle. She awakened me as I had instructed her. It is pleasant to be awakened in that fashion. I put my hands down to her hair, as she pleasured me. During the night I had taught her some small things, some techniques, little, simple things, for her mouth and hands, and breasts, her hair, her lips, and feet, and tongue. They might help her, I thought, to survive in Pembe's tavern. Most importantly I had tried to impress upon her the fundamental importance of submission, and that she was a slave girl. All else, for most practical purposes, follows from that. I cried out, softly, and she looked up, pleased that she had made me do that. "Finish your work, Slave," I told her. "Yes, Master," she said. My hands knotted in her hair, tightly, holding her helplessly to me. Then I released her. I pulled her up to me, and, in the dim light of the alcove, filtering through the red curtain from the slatted grilles in the roof of the main room, wiped her mouth with her hair. ~Explorers of Gor~
QUOTE: "It was my intention," I said, "to kiss you only with the gentleness, and tenderness, of a man of Earth." It had not been my intention to subject her mouth, her throat and breasts, her belly, the interior of her thighs, to the cruel, commanding, raping kisses of the Gorean master. ~Fighting Slave of Gor~
QUOTE: Gorean men do not surrender their birthright as males, their rightful dominance, their appropriate mastery. They do not choose to be dictated to by females. ~Magicians of Gor, pg 51~
I awakened, suddenly startled for the instant. Then I realized what was happening. I was perhaps an Ahn before dawn. She lifted her head from my body. It was hard to see her in the light. The fire had burned down. “Please do not whip me, Master” she said, frightened. “You may continue,” I told her. She again bent her head to my body. She knelt beside me, in the darkness. Her hands were tied behind her back. The tether was on her throat. “Stop for a bit,” I told her. “Yes Master,” she said. I felt her cheek against me. The she put her head down on my belly. “Forgive me for disturbing your rest, Master,” she said. “I know I should not do that. Beat me, if you must.” “I am not angry,” I said. “I could not help myself,” she said “though I feared I might be beaten. You do not know what it is to be a female slave, I am so weak. I was so overcome with desire for my master.” “I am not angry,” I told her, “but do not let it happen too often. It is I who will instruct you as to when to serve my pleasure.” “Yes, Master,” she said. “It is perfectly acceptable for you to lie alone in the darkness, miserable, torments by your need” I said “for you are a slave.” “Yes Master,” she said. “But may I not, upon occasion beg to be used?” “Of course,” I said. She then, lifting her head, began to lick and kiss softly at my body, I looked up at the stars, I listened to the noises of the jungle night. "How sweet, and strong, and beautiful it is," she said. I said nothing. “Are you angry with me, Master?” she asked. “No,” I said. “I love to kiss you,” she said, then again put her head down on my belly. “Do not stop, Slave,” I said. Again she lifted her head. Then I took her by the hair and drew her close to me. “Master?” she asked. “Perform,” I told her. “Yes Master,” she said. I then forced her head downward and held her in place as is common with slaves. “You are skilled,” I told her. She moaned softly. “Quite skilled,” I said. She moaned again, a sweet, soft and piteous moan. “Aiii,” I whispered softly, and not releasing her, holding her head to me, reared to my feet, half crouching. She was gasping, sobbing. She was half lifted from her knees. I looked down at her. How incredibly beautiful she was in the jungle night, so small, so white and soft, her small hands tied behind her, the tether on her throat. I gasped, and put my head back, taking air into my lungs. Then I lowered her gently to the ground. She looked up at me. "I love you Master," she whispered. I forced myself to remember that she was only a slave. Then I lay beside her. I wiped her mouth with the back of my forearm, I held her head in my hands and kissed her on the forehead. Then, shuddering, I clutched her. In a few minutes I was calm, in a quarter of and Ahn she felt me move against her thigh. "You are strong, Master," she said. "You are beautiful," I told her. Explorers of Gor - Page 367-368
"Master well knows how to use a slave," I gasped. "Will he not be merciful with me? What does he want of me? I am only a slave! Must he drive me mad with passion?"
"Be silent," he grumbled.
I twisted helplessly in the love chains. I jerked helplessly again them, the rings cutting into my ankles, pulling against my wrists. There are many varieties of such chains. These were simple and had been earlier taken from the wagoner’s bench, part of the loot which my master had divided between himself and Mirus. Each consisted of a wrist ring and an ankle ring, joined by about ten inches of chain. My left wrist had been attached to my left ankle, my right wrist to my right ankle. I was on my back. A chain was also on my neck. It fastened me to a nearby tree, a yard or so from our blankets.
"You danced well, earlier," he said.
"Master!" I gasped. "Master!"
His tongue was incredible, so gentle, so subtle and yet so persuasive, so forceful, so irresistible.
"You are a hot slave," he commented.
"Hot! I was flaming, and helpless!
He drew back a bit, amused.
Quickly I lifted myself piteously, suppliantly to him.
"Is this how the woman of Earth behave?" he asked.
"I am no longer of Earth," I said. "I am of Gor, and a slave! Be merciful, I beg it, to a helplessly aroused slave!"
He chuckled, the beast, at my discomfiture, and helplessness, and need!
"Please, please!" I begged.
"You are far from Earth now, and your library, slave," he said.
"Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" I said. "Please, please, Master!" I lifted myself to him in mute petition.
How he relished the power he held over me!
(pg. 466) "Oh, yes!" I cried, as his tongue, again touched me. It had been a tiny, subtle touch, and yet, as he doubtless knew, from my distraught condition, it had brought me to the point where my response was totally within his power and I must beg.
"Please, Master," I whimpered.
"Do you beg?" he asked.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Who begs?" he asked.
"Tuka, the slave of Teibar of Ar, begs!" I moaned.
Again his tongue touched me and I threw back my head and screamed with joy, jerking against the chains. "Oh!" I cried. "Oh!" I shuddered, and thrashed and gasped. Then I lay quiet in his chains, looking up at him in wonder, in gratitude. I was his. My entire body was rich in the memory of what he had done to me, in one sense what he had made me beg for, in another sense what he had forced me to endure.
"I am yours," I said.
"That is known to me," he said. He then touched me again, this time gently, with his hand.
Dancer ch 34
"I would kiss you very well," I said, "if you would give me some clothing."
"For a highly intelligent woman," he said, "you are inutterably stupid."
"Master?" I asked.
"Perhaps it is your femaleness," he said.
"Master?" I asked.
"Kiss me now, with perfection, or die," he said.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Swallow," he said.
I did so, terrified.
"I wondered how you might behave," he said, "if I gave you even a hort of room, even an Ihn of indulgence."
"Master!" I wept.
But he had then seized my wrists and, then with a thong, bound them together, before my body. He then dragged me toward a low-hanging branch and tied my hands, so bound, over my head to the branch. "No, Master!" I cried. "Please, Master!" He then whipped me. He then, angrily, released me from the branch, I blubbering and weeping, half in shock, and dragged me back to the blankets. Then he threw me to the foot of the blankets and chained me there, hand and foot. I looked up at him, in terror. Then, angrily, he lay down on the blankets, drawing them about himself to sleep. "Master," I begged, "may I speak!"
"No," he said.
(pg. 476) I lay there in misery until morning. He was my master. I loved him! I loved him more than anything! But I had failed my first test with him! I had only wanted to know, foolishly, the nature of my power with him, if any, and the nature of the discipline to which I might be subject. I had only wanted to know if, truly, I was his slave or not. Then he had made me serve him, uncompromisingly. Then he had whipped me and put me chained, at his feet. Dancer ch 34
Master," I said. "I beg for forgiveness."
He bent over me and removed the chains. Swiftly, tears in my eyes, I knelt before him. I then, unbidden, contritely, timidly, lovingly, kneeling before him, kissed him, serving him with all the sweetness, delicacy and perfections I could. I then swallowed, and looked up at him, hoping to find some particle of forgiveness or kindness in his eyes.
"Cook," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. Dancer ch 34
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Post by sweetlarma on Nov 25, 2006 13:51:36 GMT -5
Bound by the Master's Will
"Yes, Master," I said. I must now keep my hands or wrists in contact with one another, and behind my back. I was now "bound by the master’s will." I could not separate my hands or wrists from one another now without permission. There are many ways, of course, of "binding by the master’s will." The behind-the-back position is one of the simplest and loveliest. This exposes the girl, frames the beauty of her breasts and makes her helpless. That the bond is a "will bond," too, makes clear to her the power of the master over her. Another common bond of this sort is when the girl must kneel, grasping her ankles. another is when she is forced to sit and reach forward between her legs, passing the right arm from inside the right thigh to outside and beneath the right calf, to grasp the right ankle between her legs, passing the right arm from inside the right ankle from the outside, the left arm from inside the left thigh to outside and beneath the left calf, to grasp the left ankle in the same way. In this position she is helpless and cannot rise. Too, after a time, it becomes apparent to her that she also cannot close her legs. A girl may be kept in such bonds for hours. Too, of course, she may be tied in such a position. There are also, of course, different ways of decreeing such bonds. For example, with the behind-the-back-hands-tied bond in which I had been placed I could have been informed, but had not been, that my shoulders were pulled tightly back, which, of course, forces the breasts forward for the pleasure, or attentions, of the master.
Dancer ch 12
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