John Norman - Rouge of Gor

I lay there then and wondered if ever other men of Earth had experienced such pleasure, if ever they had had such pleasure from their females. Perhaps only, I thought, if their females, like Miss Henderson, were their slaves."It is thus, " whispered Miss Henderson to me, "that we serve our Gorean Masters!" I said nothing.

"Do you often wonder," she laughed softly, holding me, quietly snuggling against me, "why it is that we are sought in the slave markets, why it is that we bring high prices?" Though I did not respond to her, her services had come as a revelation to me.

I had not even suspected that Earth women were capable of such marvels. Collared, and under discipline, what incredible treasures they were! They were joys, and priceless! Men, I knew, would kill to possess such women. Petty, arrogant, smug, cold, proud, inert, frustrated, the women of Earth trod the sands of their native world; the men of Earth, I thought, did not begin to suspect the gold into which such pain and dross could be transmitted; how long, I wondered, before such creatures were brought naked to their knees before Masters.

"How I despise the men of Earth," said the girl to me. "How I love my Gorean Master!" I then began, for the first time to truly, attentively caress her.

"You are going to make me yield, aren't you?" she gasped. I then continued, patiently, carefully, to touch her. She then began to tremble and sometimes tried to pull away from me, and at other times to press aainst me. I controlled her, sometimes letting her do as she wished and at other times not permitting it. She lay on her back, her lips parted. She began to maon, the whimpers of a collared slave girl. I felt her. She was hot and open, gasping, saturated with the lubricating oils of her readiness.I smiled to myself.The slut was a hot slave. I was pleased with Miss Henderson. "I'm yours Master," she whispered. "Please have me," I then took her, and she cried out with the unmistakable, rapturous, submission of the surrendered slave girl. She then grasped me tightly, fearing that I would leave her. When she understood that I was content to hold her, she lay warmly in my arms, somtimes kissing me. "You have conquered me, Master" she said, "asyou have doubless conquered man other girls before me." I said nothing." I am owned," she said. "That pleases me."

I began to kiss her about the neck and throat. She put her head back, laughing. "I am an Earth girl," she said. "Do you like us?" I continued to kiss her."Are we not juicy puddings" she laughed. "Is it not clear now why men will buy us?" She clutched me to her and kissed me. "Would you not like to buy one of us?" she said.I held her from me.

"Buy me Master," she said suddenly, "Buy me!"

I did not let her touch me, though she strained toward me, the pretty slut, the clever slut, to press her eauty, piteously, entreatingly against me."I have never been in the arms of a man such as you," she said. "I love you! I want to be your slave."I did not speak."Put me beneath your whip," she said. "Put me in your chains. Lock your collar upon my throat! Own me!" I did not permit her to touch me.

"Then she laughed, a tear running from beneath the blindfold. "How brazen we Earth girls are," she laughed, "how shamelss, that we would be to be purchased! How you must despise us, such lowly, desperate slaves!"

I then entered Miss Henderson and she gasped, clutching me. I smiled. It was not unusual for a slave girl, fervently, to desire to be purchased by a given man, one before whom she knws she could kneel as a suberb slave. In such a case it is natural for her to present herself as piteously and excitingly before him as possible, in order that his interest might be aroused. She, obviously, has nothing to say about her purchase. The choice is his, fully. It is he who is the buyer. This sort of thing is not unusualy in slave markets, particularly on open platforms. I have seen, many times, a girl attempting to interest a given man, singled out, in the crowd in buying her. And, not unoften, such a fellow will bid upon her, knowing well the wonders which she, purchased from her owner, is offering him. Still in the end, it is his which is the choice. She can do no more than present herself, displaying her owner's merchandise as attractively as she can. It is he who will buy or not. He is the Master.

"I love my Gorean Master," breathed the girl, "Buy Beverlyk please!" I have also seen girls attempt to influence their sales in public auctions, while being exhibited naked on the block, trying to present themselves particularly to a given man, but this disposition is usually curbed by the auctioneer's whip. She is not there to be sold to the man of her choice but to the highest bidder.

Indeed, in most public auctions, such actions on the part of the girl are for most practical purposes impossible. Such auctions are usually held at night, when men are off work and can come to the biddings, under torches. The block tends to be illuminated and the house is much in darkness. The girl, naked, in the light exhibited, can be well seen but she herself can see few of the buyers. She is intensely aware, of course, of their presence, in the crowds, in the tiers. Their sounds, their cries, their breathing, their movements, the sweat, the smells, their interest are clearly evident to her, almost engulfing her on the block, almost like possessive hands upon her body. She can then influcne her sale, guided by the auctioneer's whip only in such a way as to present herself as the most luscious slave meat she can, hoping thereby to improve her price, that she may be purchased by a more well-to-do Master. Yet most girls are sold for prices in similar ranges and there are few men who can not, by spending an extra coin or two, secure the slave of their choice. Often when the hand of the auctioneer has been closed, a girl will not know to whom she has been sold. She may not have seen the bidder, or she may have been purchased through an agent. Sometimes it is a day or more before she learns to what chain she has been sold. In this time she does not know if she has been purchased by the man of her dreams, who will control her well, or by some harsh, cruel brute, before whom she must kneel in terror. To be sure, she will soon learn.

"Buy me Master," begged Beverly. I then made her respond to me, and she began to moan. "I want to be bought," she moaned.

To beg to be purchased is a slave's act. That is a saying of Goreans. I think it is true. In this, then, Miss Henderson provided further confirmation of the rightness of the collar upon her throat, that she was a natural and true slave.

"If I yield well to you, Master," wheedled Miss Henderson, "will you buy me?" I then, savagely, struck her face, back and forth, with the palms of my hand, and then its back."Forgive me, Master," she cried, "I did not mean to bargain! I will yield to you fully, and perfectly, at your least command! Do not kill me Master, please!"

There was blood on my hand and at her mouth. Her lip was swollen. I kissed her upon the swollen lip, and she whimpered. I tasted her blood.

"Please do not kill me, Master," she begged. I then took her.When I finished with her, I rose up from the couch. She lay there, frightened.

"I did not mean to displease my Gorean Master," she said. "I did not think. Take pity on me. I am only a slave."I pulled her from the couch to her knees at the slave ring. "Permit me to please you Master," she begged.

I permitted her to perform intimate services for me. I then buckled the thick leather slave cuffs on her wrist. "Master?" she asked. I then thrust her right wrists through the slave ring and with the heavy metal snaps, sewn into the cuffs, secured her there.

She heard the strands of the whip shaken out. "Please do not whip me Master," she begged. Then she put down her head. Then I lashed her, for she had been displeasing.I cast aside the hip and drew on my tunic and gathered together my things.