John Norman - Dancer of Gor

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Doreen Williamson appeared to be a quiet shy librarian, but in the dark of the library, after hours, she would practice, semi-nude, her secret studies in belly-dancing. Until, one fateful night, the slavers from Gor kidnapped her.
On that barbarically splendid counter-Earth, Doreen drew a high price as a dancer in taverns, in slave collar and ankle bells. Until each of her owners became aware that their prize dancer was the target of power forces---that in the tense climate of the ongoing war between Ar and Cos, two mighty empires, Doreen was too dangerous to keep.
DANCER OF GOR is a John Norman bonus novel---an erotic fever-pitched novel of an alien world where men were all-powerful and women were living jewels of desire.

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"How could I ever pay for such a thing!" I gasped.

"There is no question of payment," he said. "They are given to you as an animal, a slave."

"Master," I whispered, awed.

"Do not fret," he said. "In the case of a woman from Earth, like yourself, they are not free."

"Master?" I asked.

He took my collar in both hands, and moved it in such a way that I could feel how sturdily, and obdurately, it was locked on my neck. "For a woman such as you," he said, "their price is the collar."

"Yes, Master," I said. The serums, in that sense, did indeed have their price. We paid for them with the collar. It was with a strange feeling that I realized that even if I did not wish it so, even if I vehemently desired otherwise, my youth and beauty would continue to remain fresh and lovely for Gorean masters. Not even for it was there an escape! It, too, was "collared."

I shuddered, considering the effects of the stabilization serums.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, Master," I said. I scarcely dared to cope with even the thought of the serums. I had not understood their effects. Perhaps my master was mistaken! I must think of other things!

"Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"You seemed to be familiar with the beasts," I said. "Were you once associated with them?"

"Yes," he said.

"Are you associated with them any longer?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Are the beasts," I asked, "involved in the slaving?"

"In a way, yes," he said. "They provide, for the most part, the means for conducting the trade.""The trade?" I asked.

"The slave trade," he said.

"Of course, Master," I said.

"Do not grow arrogant at the thought of the stabilization serums," he said. "Arrogant?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Keep clearly in mind that regardless of their value or benefits from your point of view, they have other consequences as well. For example, you will continue to be of interest to masters, you will continue to excite them, you will continue to be the sort of woman they want for their collars and chains. As you remain as you are, so soft, so lovely, so attractive and desirable, you must expect to continue to face the risks and perils attendant on your beauty, on a world such as this, where it is a common mode of currency, a familiar means of exchange, where it may be used to bribe traitors, and be given to heroes as a reward, where it is a prize for courage and audacity, where it may count as tribute to conquerors, where it can be used to bargain for cities and states, and where it is bought and sold in markets."

"Yes, Master," I whispered. Perhaps I was a terrible person, but I did not mind the thought of being exciting and beautiful. Perhaps it was fitting then that I be punished with bondage.

"You are a beautiful slave," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

I wondered if my master was weak. Some men are very strong with men, and yet weak with their women. He had just said I was beautiful. That was surely a compliment. Surely it indicated some interest in me, or approval of me, surely in at least one respect. He had said I was beautiful. Could I not then, though it was I who was in a collar, make use of his feelings to own him? Too, he had followed me for months, over thousands of pasangs. He must like me then, at least a little. That seemed likely. Indeed, he must care for me. I suspected that perhaps he even loved me. Perhaps I could make use of that. I wondered if he was weak. It would not hurt to test him. I knew that some girls twisted their masters about their little fingers. I wondered if I could do that. "Master," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"I am not a common Gorean girl," I said. "You know that I am from Earth." He was silent.

"We are going to leave the camp tomorrow," I said. "I would like to have some clothing. I could make a tunic from a blanket, as Tupita did."

"Had you not heard my decision, announced to you earlier," he inquired, "that you were to be kept naked?"

"Yes, Master," I said. "But I do not wish to be kept so. I would like some clothing. Perhaps you could change your mind."

He was silent.

"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.

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. The library was indeed faraway, and I was indeed his slave! I had asked earlier if I was not to be slept at his feet, as might be a sleen, and he had said, "Perhaps later." Why had I not understood then that my behavior was under scrutiny, that he was even then inquiring into the qualities and nature of me? I was in misery, and overcome with contrition. How badly I had behaved! I had failed my first test with my master, whom I loved! Yet, too, I felt grandly and warmly reassured as to his strength and dominance. I knew then my master was master, that he would never relinquish his sovereignty, that he was a true man. I was content now, and eager, a female, to be his perfect slave. If I had failed his test, he had passed mine. To be sure, I was aware that there might be continuing penalties attached to my having displeased him. I wanted so to sleep next to him, or at his thigh, but instead now, I might indefinitely be slept at his feet, as a sleen or dog, or as less, as a female slave. But I would rejoice to be even so near to him! too, perhaps, now, I might be often whipped. I did not know. Too, perhaps, now, I would be within the will of Teibar of Ar, my master. A little before morning, I fell asleep. When I awakened I discovered that a blanket had been put over me.

"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.

In less than an Ahn I knelt beside his pack. He looked about the camp, and extinguished the firs. He kicked dirt over its remains. He then turned about, and looked at me. To my surprise, he seemed amused. "Did you satisfy your curiosity last night, Tuka?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He had realized then, well enough, what I had been doing! Could I have no secrets from such a man? Was I so open to him then, in my mind, as well as, by his decision, in my beauty?"

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