TYPES OF SERVES
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TYPES OF SERVES

Ka-la-na
Ar - House of Cernus

A girl in a tunic of white silk, gracefully, carrying a large pitcher of diluted Ka-la-na wine, approached our table from the rear, and climbed the stairs, delicately, and as though timidly, head down. Then she leaned forward behind me, bending her knees slightly, her body graceful. Her voice in my ear was a whisper, an invitation. I looked at her. Her eyes met mine, beautiful, deep, gray. Her lips were slightly parted. "Wine, Master?" asked Virginia Kent. "Yes," I said, "I will have wine." Virginia served me, bowed her head and backed gracefully down the stairs behind me, then turned and hurried away. "She is White Silk, of course," said Ho-Tu. "I know," I said.(...)
I glanced at Virginia Kent, who was now moving about the tables, in the incredibly brief silken slave livery, the pitcher on her left shoulder, held there gracefully with her left hand. Her hair was now about three inches longer than it had been when she had come to the House of Cernus. She walked gracefully, insolently, the movement of her firing my blood. Her ankles were slender, beautiful."
"Assassin of Gor" Page 186/187

Argentum - Palace

"I lay naked on the couch of Ligurious, in the palace in Argeiltum. His totich had already reduced me, more than once, to a quivering slave.
"Wine," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said, and struggled up, turning. fetched him the goblet from a small, low table near the couch and, in a moment, after kissing the goblet, head down, kneeling, arms extended,proffered it to him. He sipped a bit of the wine, a Ka-la-na of Ar, and then returned the goblet to me. I kissed it again, and then replaced it on the table."
"Kajira of Gor" page 227 ?

Tuchuk People - Kamchak wagon

"Aphris got up and fetched not a skin, but a bottle, of wine, Ka-la-na wine, from the Ka-la-na orchards of great Ar itself.
She also brought a black, red-trimmed wine crater from the isle of Cos.
"May I serve you?" she asked.
Kamchak's eyes glinted. "Yes," he said.
She poured wine into the crater and replaced the bottle.
Kamchak had watched her hands very carefully. She had had to break the seal on the bottle to open it. The crater had been upside down when she had picked it up. If she had poisoned the wine she had certainly done so deftly.
Then she knelt before him in the position of the Pleasure Slave and, head down, arms extended, offered him the crater.
He took it and sniffed it and then took a wary sip.
Then he threw back his head and drained the crater.
"Hah!" said he when finished.
"Nomads of Gor" page 146 ?

Rask of Treve War Camp

“Serve me wine,” he said.
I turned and, among the furnishings of the tent, found a bottle of Ka-la-na, of good vintage, from the vineyards of Ar, the loot of a caravan raid. I then took the wine, with a small copper bowl, and a black, red-trimmed wine crater, to the side of the fire. I poured some of the wine into the small copper bowl, and set it on the tripod over the tiny fire in the fire bowl.
He sat cross-legged, facing me, and I knelt by the fire, facing him.
After a time I took the copper bowl from the fire and held it against my cheek.
I returned it again to the tripod, and again we waited.
I began to tremble.
“Do not be afraid, Slave,” he said to me.
“Master!” I pleaded.
“I did not give you permission to speak,” he said.
I was silent.
Again I took the bowl from the fire. It was now not comfortable to hold the bowl, but it was not painful to do so. I poured the wine from the small copper bowl into the black, red-trimmed wine crater, placing the small bowl in a rack to one side of the fire. I swirled, slowly, the wine in the wine crater. I saw my reflection in the redness, the blondness of my hair, dark in the wine, and the collar, with its bells, about my throat.
I now, in the fashion of the slave girl of Treve, held the wine crater against my right cheek. I could feel the warmth of the wine through the side of the crater.
“Is it ready?’ he asked.
A master of Treve does not care to be told that his girl thinks it is. He wishes to be told Yes or No.
“Yes,” I whispered.
I did not know how he cared for his wine, for some men of Treve wish it warm, others almost hot. I did not know how he wished it. What if it were not as he wished it!
“Serve me wine,” he said.
I, carrying the wine crater, rose to my feet and approached him. I then knelt before him, with a rustle of slave bells, in the position of the pleasure slave. I put my head down and, with both hands, extending my arms to him, held forth the wine crater.
“I offer you wine, Master,’ I said.
He took the wine and I watched, in terror. He sipped it, and smiled. I nearly fainted. I would not be beaten.
I knelt there, while he, at his leisure, drank the wine.
When he had almost finished, he beckoned me to him, and I went to kneel at his side. He put his hand in my hair and held my head back.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I did so, and he, spilling some from the broad rim of the crater, I feeling it on my chin, and throat, as it trickled under the collar, and body, poured the remainder of the wine down my throat. It was bitter from the dregs in the bottom of the cup, and, to my taste, scalding. I, my eyes closed, my head held painfully back, throat burning, swallowed it. When I had finished the wine he thrust the wine crater into my hands. “Run, El-in-or,” he said, “put it back, and return to me.”
"Captive of Gor" page 332/333 ?

Wine
Argentum - Mill

"Teela, first girl, from across the room, signaled to me, and I, bowing, slipped back, rose to my feet and hurried to her side.
"Wine," said she, "to the master." I hurried to the serving table and fetched a vessel of wine. I then went behind the feasting table, behind which the men sat, talking. Some musicians were playing, at one side of the room. I knelt behind the young Aemilianus. "Wine, Master?" I whispered.
"Yes," said he, extending his goblet. "Thank you, Tiffany," he said. "Yes, Master," I said, and withdrew.
The courtesy of Aemilianus, a habit with him, probably a function of the gentleness of his upbringing, in no way affected the totality of the bondage in which his girls were kept. Whereas one need not thank a slave, one may, of course, if one wishes, thank them.
"Kajira of Gor" Page 275 ?

Paga

Ar - Paga House

"At a gesture from the proprietor, the grimy man in the tunic of white and gold, one of the serving slaves, with a flash of her ankle bells, hurried to the Assassin and set before him a bowl, which she trembling filled from the flask held over her right forearm. Then, with a furtive glance at the girl chained at the side of the room, the serving slave hurried away.
Kuurus took the paga bowl in both hands and put his head down, looking into it.
Then, somberly, he lifted it to his lips and drank.
"Assassin of Gor" Page 8

Port Kar – House of Samos

"The girl knelt at the side of the board. She was clad in a brief bit of diaphanous scarlet silk, slave silk. Her beauty was well betrayed. Her collar, a lock collar, was yellow, enameled. She was dark eyed, dark haired.
“May I serve, Masters?” she asked,
“Paga,” said Samos, absently, looking at the board.
“Yes,” I said.
With a flash of slave bells, she withdrew. As she left, I noted that she passed by the kneeling male slave, flanked by his guards. She passed him as a slave girl, her head in the air, insolently, taunting him with her body.
(...)The girl laughed, and continued on, to fetch paga for free men. (...)
“Paga, Masters?” asked the dark-haired girl, kneeling beside the table.
Samos, not looking at her, held forth his goblet. The girl filled the goblet. I held forth my goblet, and she, too, filled mine.
“Withdraw,” said Samos.
She withdrew. (...)
The slave girl was speechless, her eyes wide. She took a step backward, clutching the two-handled paga vessel."
"Hunters of Gor" page 2/3

North of Lara - Travelling Camp

“Fetch me paga,” he said. “Yes, Master,” she said.
I went to the wagon to fetch a large bota of paga, which had been filled from one of the large jugs.
Lana and Ute, too, went to the wagon, to fetch other botas, so commanded by other guards.
Soon I returned to the firelight, the heavy bota of paga, on its strap, slung over my shoulder. Ute and Lana, with theirs, behind me. The grass felt good to my bare feet. It seemed I could feel each blade. I felt the rough fabric of the camisk on my body as I moved, the pull of the strap on my shoulder, the heavy, swaying touch of the bota as, in the rhythm of my walk, it touched my side.
Beyond the fire, in the distance, like an irregular margin, a torn, soft, dark edge hiding the bright stars of Gor, I could see the lofty, still blackness of the borders of the northern forests. Far off, I heard the scream of a hunting sleen. I shivered.
Then I heard the laughing of the men, and turned again toward the fire.
Back away toward the compound, here and there on the meadow, I could see other fires, and clusters of wagons. This was a night for paga, for celebration. Tomorrow, Targo, and his men and his merchandise, would make their way to Laura and, crossing the river there, begin their long, overland journey to Ko-ro-ba, called by some the Towers of the Morning, and from thence to luxurious Ar itself. The journey would be not only long and hard but dangerous.
“Paga!” called the guard. I hurried to him.
“Let Lana dance,” whimpered Lana. The guard handed me a piece of meat and I took it in my teeth kneeling beside him, where he sat cross-legged, I lifting and squeezing the bota of paga, filled from one of the large jugs, guiding the stream of liquid into his mouth. I bit through the charred exterior of the meat, into the red, hot, half-raw, juicy interior.
The guard, with one hand, gestured that he had had enough. I laid the bota aside on the grass.
"Captive of Gor" Page 113/114

Victoria - Tavern of Tasdron

"`Paga!' called the standing man. `Paga!' A blonde girl, nude, with a string of pearls wound about her steel collar, ran to the table and, from the bronze vessel, on its strap, about her shoulder, poured paga into the goblet before the seated man. The fellow who stood by the table, scarcely noticing the girl, placed a tarsk-bit in her mouth, and she fled back to the counter where, under the eye of a paga attendant, she spit the coin into a copper bowl."
"Rogue of Gor" page 77

"I almost fainted. I went to him and, shaking, poured paga into his goblet; I was terrified that I might spill it; it was not only that I feared, should I spill the beverage, that I might be beaten for my clumsiness; it was even more than I wished to appear graceful and beautiful before him; but I shook, and was awkward; the paga sloshed in the goblet but, as my heart almost stood still, it did not spill; he looked at me; I was a clumsy girl, and a poor slave; I felt so small and unworthy before him; I was not only a girl, small and weak before these mighty men; I was not even a good slave. Trembling, I extended the goblet to him. He did not take it. I shrank back, confused. I did not know what to do. I realizes then that I had, in my confusion and distress, forgotten to place my lips upon the goblet in subservience. I quickly pressed my lips to the goblet, kissing it. Then, suddenly, as I was to hand it to him, I boldly, again, lifted the goblet s side to my lips. Holding it in both hands, I kissed it again, lovingly, delicately, fully, lingering, my eyes closed. I had never kissed a boy on Earth with the helplessness and passion that I bestowed upon the mere goblet of my Gorean captor. I belonged to him. I was his. I loved him! I felt the metal of the cup beneath my full, pressing lips. I opened my eyes. I proffered, tears in my eyes, the cup of paga to my captor. It was though, with the cup, I was giving myself to him. Yet I knew I needed not give myself to him, for I was his, and a slave girl; he could take me whenever he wished me. He took the cup from my hands, and dismissed me."
"Slave Girl of Gor" page 68

Black Wine

Tavern of Tasdron

""Master," said Peggy, approaching the table, kneeling beside it, bearing a tray. She placed the tray on the table and removed three plates of bread and meat from it, a dish of assorted cheeses, a bowl of dates, a pitcher of water, a pot of black wine, steaming, and tiny vessels of sugars and creams, and three goblets. On the table too, she placed small spoons of silver from Tharna for use with the black wine, and at each place, a kailiauk-horn-handled eating prong from distant Tura. Finger towels then and a silver fingerbowl too, she placed on the table. The bowl was also of Tharnan silver. When she had placed these things on the table, she looked about still kneeling, and saw me close the door to the room, locking her within with us. She suddenly trembled. She knew that she was a slave and that absolutely anything could be done with her.
"Leave the tray where it is," said Trasdone. "Remove your silks, and remain kneeling."
"Yes, Master," she said, swiftly slipping the silk back from her shoulders. I smiled to myself. Peggy had obeyed immediately and unhesitantly. Gorean slave girls do not daily in their compliance."
"Rogue of Gor" page 121 ?

Jason´s House - Victoria

"I see there may be some advantages to having a slave in the house," said Miss Henderson.
"I never doubted it," I said.
"You may serve the black wine now, in small cups, Lola," said Miss Henderson.
"Yes Mistress," whispered Lola.
This was a delicacy. I had purchased, some days ago, but we had not yet served it. In a few Ehn Lola returned with the tray, with the vessel of steaming liquid, the creams and sugars, the tiny cups and the small spoons for mixing and measuring.
"Delicious," said Miss Henderson.
"Thank you Mistress," said Lola. She then drew back a bit, and knelt, to be unobstrusive and yet available, instantly, to serve should free folk wish aught.
"Rogue of Gor" page 132 ?

Ibn Saran's Kashba

"From one side a slave girl, barefoot, bangled, in sashed, diaphanous, trousered chalwar, gathered at the ankles, in tight, red silk vest, with bare midriff, fled to Him, with the tall, graceful, silvered pot containing the black wine. She was veiled. She knelt, replenishing the drink. Beneath the veil I saw the metal of her collar.
I had not thought to have such fortune. She did not look at me. She returned to her place with the pot of black wine.
(...) Ibn Saran lifted another finger. From the side there hastened to him another girl, a fair skinned, red haired girl. She, too, wore veil, vest, chalwar, bangles, collar. She carried a tray, on which were various spoons and sugars. She knelt, placing her tray on the table. With a tiny spoon, its tip no more than a tenth of hort in diameter, she placed four measures of white sugar, and six of yellow, in the cup; with two stirring spoons, one for the white sugar, another for the yellow, she stirred the beverage after each measure. She then held the cup to the side of her cheek, testing its temperature; Ibn Saran glanced at her; she, looking at him, timidly kissed the side of the cup and placed it before him. Then, her head down, she withdrew."
"Tribesmen of Gor" page 88/9

Meat
Policrates House - Feast

"Meat, Master?" asked a girl, nude, who knelt now beside me. She offered a tray on which small cubes of roasted bosk, on tiny sticks, steamed. I took several, dipping them by the sticks in a sauce, carried on the same tray. I returned the tiny sticks to the tray and looked at the girl. She put down her head. Her hair had been cut quite short, probably as a punishment. She must now, nude, offer meat to men. It is understood of course in such a situation that in asking such a question that the girl is offering herself to the male, as much or more, than the steaming, nourishing delights on her plate. This sort of thing, incidentally, is quite common in Gorean serving. This sort of question, generally, is unerstood more broadly than merely being an inquiry into the male's culinary preferences of the moment. The classical question in this respect, almost universal on Gor, is "Wine, Master?"
The girl lifted her head then and timidly lifted the ripe, rounded fruit which she held in her hands. Gorean peaches and steelblues, to me. Her eyes met mine, and then she looked down, blushing. I then understood the purpose of the gathering of her brief yellow garmet at her breasts, lifting them, sweet, rounded and swelling, for the inspection and delectation of masters. In her gesture, her offering of the fruit, it is cleafning understood that she was offering to me as well the lovely fruits of her service and beauty."
"Rogue of Gor" page 193/4