Dances Buy me Master. Capture Dance

Buy Me Master

There were now some four or five girls in the circle. One wore a sign that said, "I am for sale."
The girl who wore the sign, "I am for sale," danced before us, as she had before others, displaying her Master's proffered merchandise. I saw that she wanted to be purchased. that was obvious in the pleading nature of her dance. Her Master was perhaps a dealer, and one, as are many, who is harsh with his stock. Her dance, thusly, was rather like the "Buy me, Master" behaviour of a girl on a chain, the "slaver's necklace," or in the market, the sort of behaviour in which she begs purchase. A girl on such a chain, or in a market, who is to much passed over has reason for alarm. Not only is she likely to be lowered on the chain, perhaps even to "last girl," which is demeaning to her, and a great blow to her vanity, but she is likely to be encouraged to greater efforts by a variety of admonitory devices, in particular, the switch and whip. Earth-girl slaves brought to Gor, for example, are often, particularly at first, understandably enough, I suppose, afraid to be sold, and accordingly, naturally enough, I suppose, sometimes attempt, sully in subtle ways, to discourage buyers, thereby hoping to be permitted to cling to the relative security of the slaver's chain. Needless to say, this behaviour is soon corrected and, in a short time, only to eager now to be off the slaver's chain, they are displaying themselves, and proposing themselves, luscious, eager, ready, begging merchandise, to prospective buyers.
The girl for sale was a short legged brunet, extremely attractive. I considered buying her, but decided against it. This was not the time for buying slaves. I gestured to her to dance on. She whirled away. A tear moved diagonally down her cheek.
She might, of course, not belong to a dealer.
There are many reasons why a master might put his girl, or girls, up for sale, of course. He might wish, for example, if he is a breeder, to improve the quality of his pens or kennels, trying out new blood lines, freshening his stock, and such. He might wish, casually, merely to try out new slaves, perhaps ridding himself of one to acquire another, who may have caught his eye. Perhaps he wants to keep a flow of slaves in his house, lest he grow to attached to one, always a danger. Too, of course, economic considerations sometimes become paramount, these sometimes dictating the selling off of chattels, whose value, of course, unlike that of a free woman, constitutes a source of possible income. Indeed, there are many reasons for the buying and selling of slaves, as there are for other forms of properties.
I continued to watch the female, the sign about her neck dance. No, I said to myself, it would not do to bring her into peril. Then I chastised myself for weakness. One would not wish to purchase her, of course, because she might constitute encumbrance. Still, she was attractive. Even as I considered the matter she received a sign from a fellow, her Master, I suppose, and she tore open her silk, and danced even more plaintively before one fellow and then another. She seemed frightened. I suspected she had been warned as to what might befall her ifs he should prove unsuccessful in securing a buyer. I saw her glance at her Master. His gaze was stern, unpitying, She danced in terror.
I saw that the girl with the sign about her neck had taken a leaf from the book of the blonde, and cunningly, too. She, too was now on her knees, advertising her charms, attesting mutely to the joys and delicacies that would be attendant upon her ownership. I saw her owner look at her, startled. She, of course, did not see him. I gathered he had never seen her in just this fashion or way before, her silk parted, writhing on her knees, kissing, lifting her hands, her head moving, her hair flung about. "I will buy her!" called a fellow. "How much do you want?" inquired another, eagerly. her Master rushed into the circle. "Close your silk, lascivious slut!" he ordered her. Swiftly she clutched the silk about her, startled, confused, kneeling small before him. He looked about, angrily. He jerked her by one arm to her feet. She struggled to keep her silk closed with the other hand. "She is not for sale!" he said. He then drew her rapidly from the light, into the darkness outside the circle. We heard a tearing of silk. There was much laughter.
Magicians of Gor, pages. 43-47


Capture Dance
Captured Slave Girl Basics
Scarlet dancing silks
Bells strapped to each ankle
A whip may be present, as needed
Immediately after being collared she rises, angrily, defiantly
The Master signals the music to begin and she starts to dance
She dances as a girl who has been stolen from home and must now serve a Master At the end of the dance she is given a cup of wine that she serves to her Master

((Example of Capture Dance))

• eden is dressed in an unusual set of silks. The white silk top is almost a tunic with 3/4 length sleeves, open in the front, held closed by a black silk sash. A medium length split-skirt of white silk covers her hips and thighs... hiding most of her body. She walks to the sandpit, body moving stiffly, sexless. There is a taught deliberateness in her motions.
  eden bows at waist. She brings her right fist to her left palm in a salute, then she begins a series of motions and forms... katas. Her body movements are harsh, controlled... perfect in all technical details but sexless and muted in emotion. All signs that this a woman are pushed away as she spins and strikes and kicks.
  eden stops, breathing evenly and turns, looking to her Sensei. She smiles softly, cheeks flushing .... a sign that a female lies dormant within her. She respectfully bows to the unseen Master. They square off and then begin sparring.... she is less controlled, drawn to the Master, breath quickening. She backpedals fast. Her unseen opponent obvious more skilled than she.
  eden fights desperately to keep her ground... all thoughts of forms and perfection gone. There is a more fluid natural motion to her now. Suddenly, she is brought to the ground with a soft cry! She struggles, pinned, arms behind her back.... writhing helplessly until she knows she cannot escape and lies still.
  eden blinks in surprise and kneels up as she is freed... emerald eyes watching the Master, redgold hair wild, framing her face as she pants. She leaps to her feet, stalking away, every movement displaying her... anger? frustration? Then, she turns looking to the Master who is so close, eyes wide and startled... confusion creeps over her face, mixing with her blush. She cocks her head and hesitantly offers her crossed wrists forward... questions in her eyes.
  eden gasps loud as her wrists are seized by the Master and she is pushed back, slammed against the slave pole, her wrists held above her, pinned as she struggles, frightened. One hand snakes down her body, roughly pulling the sash away and using it to bind her wrists tightly. The tunic hangs open revealing her full breasts, nipples as ripe as ramberries. She whimpers, eyes wild with panic.
  eden struggles against him and then moans low as she is spun hard, pressed to the pole, wrists held above her, legs forced apart. She arches, listening to the Masters whispered words... hips grinding to the pole... moaning in pleasure as her skirt slips from her hips, fluttering to the ground and revealing her strong supple thighs and firm rear.
  eden listens, panting... her body control by the Master pressing her to the rough pole.... "La kajira?" she says.... a question.... silent, still, listening..... then "NO!!" She cries out, struggling wildly, body writhing like a lover to the pole, hips thrusting forward.... she whimpers, panting as she struggles until she can struggle no more... heat grinding to the pole, pleasure inflicted upon her by the Master.
  eden finally nods her head, submitting... "La kajira." She gasps, body trembling, nipples hard, pressed to the rough wood. "La kajira." she repeats louder at the unheard command. She moans as she is pulled from the pole and pushed to her knees... thighs parting wide, glistening heat telling the tale of her need, wrists held above her. She looks up, emerald eyes open and vulnerable... frightened at the feelings within.
  eden lowers her wrists, sash being untied and then the tunic is striped away from her body, tossed to the side. She slowly wraps the sash about her neck like a collar. She looks up again, wonderment and surprise
  in her eyes this time. She reaches up and touches the collar and then lets her hand trail down her body, caressing gently.
  eden rises to her feet, standing naked, looking down at herself. She touches her body as if for the first time... hands sliding over her breasts to her stomach and then... tentative... to her heat. She rolls her head back moaning softly at the touch, letting her hips push forward to her hands... then she brings her hands back up her body... a soft, glistening trail following her fingertips....
  eden ... With a cry of pure joy and the freedom of one who is claimed, she leaps into the air, spinning. She dances with abandon, no control, wild and sensual... sexy and wanton... letting her body lead her where it will. She is Female, reveling in that discovery brought on by the Master. She tosses her head, redgold mane wild about her, green eyes sparkling....
  eden moves from Master to Master as if searching, her hand gliding about her neck as she seeks for the One. Then she spots him in her mind's... his larl vest beautiful and inviting, his kilt hard as leather... a trade mark of the man who was once her Master. She lifts her emerald eyes to his face, seeking his approval... needing to submit...
  eden swings her hips enticingly, arms above her and then down to caress her body like those of a lover... an invitation to the Master to come dance the worlds oldest dance with her... to claim her body as he has claimed her heart and soul. She struts about, confident... every motion vibrant and alive in her declaration... "La kajira!"
  eden slips to her knees, panting softly as she kneels tall, chin lifted, thighs parted wide encouraging all to gaze upon her naked glistening form. Trembling slightly, she arches her back, offering up her breasts as she slides her hands to her thighs to rest in open submission. Quietly, she speaks for his ears.... "La kajira." and bows her head as her Capture Dance comes to its conclusion.