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"I went to the side of the room and picked up my sea bag. I threw it to the center of them room. She looked down at it, puzzled. It was of heavy blue material, canvas, and tied with white rope. 'Lie down upon it,' I told her, 'on your back, your head to the floor.' She did so. 'No, please,' she said, 'not like this.' It is a common position for disciplinary slave rape. In it the woman feels very vulnerable, very helpless. I then took her. 'No,' she wept, in English, 'have you no respect for my feelings? Am I nothing to you? I stood up. I had, by intent, given her no time to respond, other than as a brutalized slave, no time to feel, other than as a girl unilaterally subjected to her master's pleasure. She looked up at me, miserably. 'Crawl now to the mirror,' I told her, 'on your hands and knees, and regard yourself. Miserable, she did so, her hair falling before her face, trembling, her sweet breasts pendant. She lifter her head, and gasped, looking in the mirror. 'Do you see?' I asked. 'Yes,' she said, and then wept, her head down. 'Lift your head again,' I said, 'and again look.' She did so. 'Do you see?' I asked. 'Yes,' she said, weeping, 'the slave is more beautiful than before.' She then put down her head again, crying. 'Crawl now to the straw, by the slave ring,' I told her. 'Yes, Master,' she said. I then went to her, with a blanket, and threw it over her, but not yet covering her head. She looked up at me, so vulnerable and delicate, so helpless and frightened. 'I am more beautiful now,' she said. 'But how? How could it be?' 'It is the result of an inward change in you,' I said, 'outwardly manifested in expression and bodily mien.' " Book 13, Explorers of Gor, page 202 ~¤~
"'Do you wish to be whipped?' he asked. Book 22, Dancer of Gor, pages 457 - 458
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" 'Sula, Kajira!' said the man. She slid her legs from under her and lay on her back, her hands at her sides, palms up, legs open." Book 13, Explorers of Gor, page 77 ~¤~
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Updated: 9-30-01
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"Sula-ki" |
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"Then she lay on her back, her knees drawn up, before me. She arched her back. Her breasts were lifted beautifully. I observed their lovely rise and fall, correlated with the respiratory cycle of her small lungs. Then she lay back, her shoulders in the dirt, and pressing against the earth with her small feet, piteously lifted before me, for my examination, and seizure, if I pleased, the deep belly of her, the sweet cradle of her slave's heat."
Book 13, Explorers of Gor, page 329
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"He knelt me there. `Put your head down, to the floor,' he said. `Clasp your hands, firmly, behind the back of your neck.'`Yes, Master,' I moaned. He was then behind me. He put his hands, under my arms, on my breasts, sweetly and firmly. Then he moved his hands back, caressing my flanks. My head was down. My fingers were together, behind the back of my neck. I was in his collar. It was steel, I could not remove it. I belonged to him. My body hurt, from his whip, that of my master. My head hurt, from my hair, where I had been conducted, unceremoniously, to this location. 'Please, Master,' I sobbed. 'Not like this! Not you, please!' 'The slave is pretty,' he remarked. 'Oh!' I cried. 'Oh!' 'You have a lovely ass,' he said. 'Ohhh!' I said. 'You may thank me,' he said."
Book 19, Kajira of Gor, page 434
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