Slave Dances

Authentic Slave Dance

The Nature of Slave Dance: Regardless of style, slave dance has several common characteristics.

“The institution of female slavery on Gor is doubtless thousands of years old; accordingly it is natural that there should be great complexity and refinement in such a delicious art form as slave dance. There are even, it might be mentioned, hate dances and rebellion dances, but most dances, as might be expected, are display dances, or need dances, or love and submission dances; even the hate and rebellion dances, of course, conclude, inevitably, with the ultimate surrender of the girl to her master as a love slave.”—Fighting Slave, 288

“The Gorean dancer is expected, usually, to satisfy the passions she arouses."—Players, 26

"Only too obviously was this a trained dancer, and yet, too, there was far more than training involved. Too, I speak not of such relatively insignificant matters as the mere excellence of her figure for slave dance, as suitable and fitting as it might be for such an art form, for women with many figures can be superb in slave dance, or that she must possess a great natural talent for such a mode of expression, but something much deeper. In the nature of her dance I saw more than training, her figure, and her talent. Within this woman, revealing itself in the dance, in its rhythm, its joy, its spontaneity, its wonders, were untold depths of femaleness, a deep and radical femininity, unabashed and unapologetic, a rejoicing in her sex, a respect of it, a love of it, an acceptance of it and a celebration of it, a wanting of it, and of what she was, a woman, a slave, in all of its marvelousness."—Magicians, 53-4

“’Slave dance,’ on Gor, incidentally, is a very rich and varied dance form. It covers a great deal more than simple ‘ethnic dance.’ For example, it includes dances such as hunt dances, capture dances, submission dances, chain dances, whip dances, and such. Perhaps what is done in slave dance on Gor would count as ‘exotic dance’ on Earth, but, if we are thinking of the actual kinds of dances performed, then there is much in slave dance, for example, story dances, which are seldom, if ever, included in ‘exotic dance’ on Earth, and there are forms of dance in ‘exotic dance’ which for one reason or another, are seldom, if ever, seen on Gor, for example, certain forms of carnival dancing, such as bubble dancing or fan dancing. Perhaps the reason such dances are seldom, if ever, seen on Gor, is that Goreans would not be likely to regard them as being ‘real dance.’ They would be regarded, I think, as little more than culturally idiosyncratic forms of comedic teasing. They are, at any rate, not the sort of dance, or the ‘danse-du-ventre’ sort, so pleasing to strong men, which a slave on Gor, fearing the whip must often learn to perform."—Dancer, 172

"On Gor, dance of the sort in which I was expected to perform, is called, simply, 'slave dance.' That is presumably because it is a form of dance which, for the most part, is thought to be fit only for slaves, and would be performed only by slaves. The thought crossed my mind that the lovely woman who had been my teacher on Earth had once remarked to me, 'We are all slaves.' I think that is true."—Dancer, 172

“Then I knew I did not want to dance poorly. Out there were men, real men, many of whom excited and stirred me, even in my virgin's belly. I could scarcely imagine what it might be to be helpless in their arms, and at the heat and desire in them. They would not compromise with a woman like me. They would want her too much. They would throw her to their feet. They would dominate and master me, mercilessly! I was a female. In the arms of no other sort of man could I be fulfilled!"—Dancer, 192

"The dancing of the female before the male, that she be found pleasing and he be pleased, is one of the most profound lessons in all of human biology. Others are when she kneels before him, when she kisses his feet, when she performs obeisance, when she knows herself subject, truly, to his whip."—Dancer, 193

"The dancing of a slave is a thousand times more sensuous than that of a free woman because of the incredible meanings involved, the additional richness which this furnishes, the explosive significance of this comprehension, that she who dances is owned, and theoretically, could be owned by you."--Dancer of Gor, 193

"I, myself, saw the symbolism of the dance, and, I think, so, too, did Winyela, in a pattern far deeper than that of an ethnocentric idiosyncrasy. I saw the symbolism as being in accord with what is certainly one of the deepest and most pervasive themes of organic nature, that of dominance and submission. In the dance, as I chose to understand it, Winyela danced the glory of life and the natural order; in it she danced her submission to the might of men and the fulfillment of her own femaleness; in it she danced her desire to be owned, to feel passion, to give of herself, unstintingly, to surrender herself, rejoicing, to service and love."—Blood Brothers, 42-3

"It is good for them to get the practice, hearing and seeing men respond to them. That is the way to learn what truly pleases men. In the end, I say, it is men who teach women to dance." – Assassin, 91

"I watched her, and marveled. It is interesting to note that such movements, those of slave dances, despite the inhibitions of rigid cultures, may occur in a girl's sleep, and may even occur, almost spontaneously, when she, nude, alone, passes before a mirror in her bedroom. How shocked she may be to suddenly see her body move as that of a slave. Could it have been she who so moved? Later, perhaps to her surprise, she finds herself standing before the mirror. She is naked, and alone. Then, perhaps scarcely understanding what is occurring within her, she sees the girl in the mirror has begun to dance. The movements are not dissimilar perhaps to those of women who, thousands of years ago, danced in firelit caves before their masters. Then, knowing well that it is she herself who is the dancer, she dances brazenly, boldly, before the mirror. Well does she present her bared beauty before it in the movements, the attitudes and postures of the female slave. Then perhaps she falls to the rug, scratching at it, pressing her belly to it. 'I want a Master,' she whispers."--Explorers, 362

“I have little doubt but what the disposition to, and the fundamentals of, slave dance are instinctual in a woman. No other explanation seems compatible with the readiness with which they can acquire such dance. “—Fighting Slave, 289

Attire: There are myriad costumes and styles of dancing silks. Below are but a few examples.

"The girl wore Gorean dancing silk. It hung low upon her bared hips, and fell to her ankles. It was scarlet, diaphanous. A front corner of the silk was taken behind her and thrust, loose and draped, into the rolled silk knotted about her hips; a back corner of the silk was drawn before her and thrust loosely, draped, into the rolled silk at her right hip. Low on her hips she wore a belt of small denomination, threaded, overlapping golden coins. A veil concealed her muchly from us, it thrust into the strap of the coined halter at her left shoulder, and into the coined belt at her right hip. On her arms she wore numerous armlets and bracelets. On the thumb and first finger of both her left and right hand were golden finger cymbals. On her throat was a collar."—Tribesman, 8

"All eyes were on the dark-haired dancer, the skirt of diaphanous scarlet dancing silk low upon her hips."—Tribesman, 25

"Low on her hips she wore, on a belt of rolled cloth, yellow dancing silk, in Turian drape, the thighs were bare, the front right corner of the skirt thrust behind her to the left, the back left lower corner of the skirt thrust into the rolled belt at her right hip. She was barefoot; there were golden bangles, many of them, on her ankles, more on her left ankle. She wore a yellow-silk halter, hooked high, to accentuate the line of her beauty."—Tribesman, 87

Preparation: As would any athlete, a slave prepares herself for dancing. The exception to this rule would be in the case of the slave who dances for her life.

"I moved, warming up, preparing my muscles. I was intent, and careful. A dancer, of course, does not simply begin to dance. That can be dangerous. She warms up. It is like an athlete warming up, I suppose. As I warmed up, I could hear the jewelry on me, the tiny sounds of the skirt. Bells, too, marked these movements. I was belled. These I had fastened, in three lines, they fastened on a single thong, about my left ankle. Men, I sensed, somehow, would relish an ornamented woman, perhaps even one who was shamefully belled."—Dancer, 24-5

Types of Dances:(A work in progress...)

Beauty, Dance of: Each “dance of beauty” is as unique as the needs, desires, and personality traits of the dancer. There is no particular theme, costume, or body movement associated with this sort of dance, aside from the girl striving to display herself as exquisitely as possible before men.

“Angrily the girl, man by man, slowly, meaningfully, danced her beauty to each guest. They struck the tables, and cried out. More than one reached to clutch her but each time, swiftly, she moved back. The dancer, now behind us, continued to move before the low tables. The eyes of the men gleamed. Before each man, for moments seemingly his alone, she danced her beauty. The dancer turned from the tables and, hands high over her head, approached me. She swayed to the music before me…

“I looked upon her, narrow lidded, as she strove to please me. Then she moaned and turned away, and, as the music swirled to its maddened, frenzied climax, she spun, whirling, in a jangle of bells and clashing barbaric ornaments before the guests of Samos. Then, as the music suddenly stopped, she fell to the floor, helpless, vulnerable, a female slave. Her body, under the torchlight, shone with a sheen of sweat. She gasped for breath; her body was beautiful, her breasts lifting and falling, as she drank deeply of the air. Her lips were parted. Now that her dance was finished she could scarcely move. We had not been gentle with her. She looked up at me, and lifted her hand. It was at my feet she lay.”—Tribesman

Belt Dance: This dance is performed with a Warrior and is accompanied by wild, sensual music. According to purists, the girl’s head is to rise no higher than the man’s belt -- which is how the dance got its name. Such strictness is usually not observed, though the dance requires, at the very least, that the girl never rise to her feet. Aside from the inclusion of music and an actual Warrior, the belt dance differs little from mat or tile dances.

“I observed Phyllis Robertson performing the belt dance, on love furs spread between the tables, under the eyes of the Warriors of Cernus and the members of his staff. Beside me Ho-Tu was shoveling porridge into his mouth with a horn spoon. The music was wild, a melody of the delta of the Vosk. The belt dance is a dance developed and made famous by Port Kar dancing girls. Cernus, as usual, was engaged in a game with Caprus, and had eyes only for the board. The belt dance is performed with a Warrior. She now writhed on the furs at his feet, moving as though being struck with a whip. A white silken cord had been knotted about her waist; in this cord was thrust a narrow rectangle of white silk, perhaps about two feet long. Phyllis Robertson now lay on her back, and then her side, and then turned and rolled, drawing up her legs, putting her hands before her face, as though fending blows, her face a mask of pain, of fear. The music became more wild.

“The dance receives its name from the fact that the girl's head is not supposed to rise above the Warrior's belt, but only purists concern themselves with such niceties; wherever the dance is performed, however, it is imperative that the girl never rise to her feet. The music now became a moan of surrender, and the girl was on her knees, her head down, her hands on the ankle of the Warrior, his sandal lost in the unbound darkness of her hair, her lips to his foot. In the next phases of the dance the girl knows herself the Warrior's, and endeavors to please him, but he is difficult to move, and her efforts, with the music, become ever more frenzied and desperate.

“The belt dance was now moving to its climax and I turned to watch Phyllis Robertson. Under the torchlight Phyllis Robertson was now on her knees, the Warrior at her side, holding her behind the small of the back. Her head went farther back, as her hands moved on the arms of the Warrior, as though once to press him away, and then again to draw him closer, and her head then touched the furs, her body a cruel, helpless bow in his hands, and then, her head down, it seemed she struggled and her body straightened itself until she lay, save for her head and heels, on his hands clasped behind her back, her arms extended over her head to the fur behind her. At this point, with a clash of cymbals, both dancers remained immobile. Then, after this instant of silence under the torches, the music struck the final note, with a mighty and jarring clash of cymbals, and the Warrior had lowered her to the furs and her lips, arms about his neck, sought his with eagerness. Then, both dancers broke apart and the male stepped back, and Phyllis now stood, alone on the furs, sweating, breathing deeply, head down.”–Assassin of Gor, 185

Chain Dance: In such a dance, a slave makes use of a chain to illustrate the meaning and depths of her bondage. In alternate forms of chain dance, a man may hold the end of a length of chain, shortening or lengthening it as he sees fit, until the slave is at last drawn powerlessly to his grasp.

“I served muchly that afternoon, and five times did I dance. Sometimes in my dance I made use of the chain, sometimes pretending, to the music, to fight it, a fight which I had to lose, or not to understand it, looking to the men then, as though they might explain its meaning to me; they did, with raucous cries; sometimes I used it to caress me, with the soft, lovely chain caresses of bondage, to which I, whimpering, responded; sometimes I seemed to confine myself variously, seemingly sometimes more strictly, more helplessly, more mercilessly, with it; sometimes I kissed it and caressed it, gratefully and lovingly expressing therein the welling up within me of my joy at finding myself at last in my rightful place in nature; there is much that one can do with a chain. Once a free woman came to watch, for a moment, I dared not meet her eyes, but, too, I did not falter in my dance, or beauty; indeed, I tried to show her, lovingly, as one woman to another, what a woman could be, even a lowly slave, especially a lowly slave. She hurried away, trembling with her robes. I wondered if sometimes she, too, would care to wear a collar, and move so before men.”-Dancer of Gor, 285

“Already a large, curtained enclosure had been set up near the slave wagon. For a fee, the proprietor of the wagon would permit visitors. These arrangements irritated me somewhat, for customarily the chain dance, the whip dance, the love dance of the newly collared slave girl, the brand dance, and so on, are performed openly by firelight in the evening, for the delight of any who care to watch. Indeed, in the spring, with the results of caravan raids already accumulating, it is a rare night on which one cannot see one or more such dances performed. I gathered that the little wench from Port Kar must be superb. Kamchak, not a man to part easily with a tarn disk, had apparently received inside word on the matter. “—Nomads, 147

“Then with a suddenness that almost made me jump and the crowd cry out with delight the music began again but this time as a barbaric cry of rebellion and rage and the wench from Port Kar was suddenly a chained she-larl biting and tearing at the chain and she had cast her black robes from her and stood savage revealed in diaphanous, swirling Pleasure Silk. There was now a frenzy and hatred in the dance, a fury even to the baring of teeth and snarling. She turned within the collar, as the Turian collar is designed to permit. She circled the warrior like a captive moon to his imprisoning scarlet sun, always at the length of the chain. Then he would take up a fist of chain, drawing her each time inches closer. At times he would permit her to draw back again, but never to the full length of the chain, and each time he permitted her to withdraw, it was less than the last. The dance consists of several phases, depending on the general obit allowed the girl by the chain. Certain of these phases are very slow, in which there is almost no movement, save perhaps the turning of the head or the movement of a hand; others are defiant and swift; some are graceful and pleading; some stately, some simple; some proud, some piteous; but each time, as the common thread, she is drawn closer to the caped warrior. At last his fist was within the Turian collar itself, and he drew the girl, piteous and exhausted, to his lips, subduing her with his kiss, and then her arms were about his neck and unresisting, obedient, her head to his chest, she was lifted lightly in his arms and carried from the firelight.”—Nomads, 161

Fake Free Woman, Dance of the: Although this is not a “named” dance in the books of Gor, it is notable that slaves masquerading as free women might suddenly toss away their chaste robes to stand revealed in sheer slave silk. Such an event may play an interesting part in an online dance.

“To my surprise…the women about the table stood, and together, from both sides, moved swiftly to stand before us between the tables. The drums and flutes of the musicians sounded, and to my amazement the first girl, with a sudden, graceful swirl of her body lifted away her robes and flung them high over the heads of the guests to cries of delight. She stood facing us, beautiful, knees flexed, breathing deeply, arms over her head, ready for the dance. Each of the women I had thought free did the same, until each stood before us, a collared slave girl clad only in the diaphanous, scarlet dancing silks of Gor. To barbaric music they danced.”—Nomads, 96

Love Dances of the Wagon Peoples: Though not described in any great detail, the four tribes of the Wagon Peoples each have a wild and barbaric love dance, just as every city on Gor has its particular version of the dance.

“The trembling girl before her did not move.

“‘Dance!’ screamed Aphris, rising to her feet.

“‘What shall I do?’ begged the kneeling girl of Kamchak. She looked not too unlike Hereena, and was perhaps a similar sort of girl, raised and trained much the same. Like Hereena, of course, she wore the tiny golden nose ring.

“Kamchak spoke to her, very gently. ‘You are slave,’ he said. ‘Dance for your masters.’

“The girl looked at him gratefully and she, with the others, rose to her feet and to the astounding barbarity of the music performed the savage love dances of the Kassars, the Paravaci, the Kataii, the Tuchuks.

“They were magnificent.

“One girl, the leader of the dancers, she who had spoken to Kamchak, was a Tuchuk girl, and was particularly startling, vital, uncontrollable, wild. It was then clear to me why the Turian men so hungered for the wenches of the Wagon Peoples.

“At the height of one of her dances, called the Dance of the Tuchuk Slave Girl, Kamchak turned to Aphris of Turia, who was watching the dance, eyes bright, as astounded as I at the savage spectacle. ‘I will see to it,’ said Kamchak, ‘when you are my slave, that you are taught that dance.’”—Nomads, 98-9

Mat Dance: As in a tile dance, a slave simply writhes upon her back, belly, and sides while on a serving mat. This is usually not performed to any music but that of a slave’s own belly.

“’There are many forms of dance,’ I said. ‘Music is not even necessary. It need not even be more than beautiful movement. Move before the men, and about them. Move as seductively and beautifully as you can, and as a slave, swaying, crawling, kneeling, rolling, supine, prone, begging, pleading, piteous, caressing, kissing, licking, rubbing against them.’”—Mercenaries, 60

Miscellaneous Movements: There are many sorts of specific movements which may be used in the midst of slave dance. Below are but a few.

“’Move as seductively and beautifully as you can, and as a slave, swaying, crawling, kneeling, rolling, supine, prone, begging, pleading, piteous, caressing, kissing, licking, rubbing against them.’”—Mercenaries, 60

“I jerked her to her feet and, half turning her, ripping her silk from her, hurled her to the map floor, where she half lay, half crouched, one leg beneath her, looking at me, stripped save for her collar, the brand, the armlets, bells, the anklets, with fury. ‘Please us more,’ I told her. Her eyes blazed. ‘And do not rise from the floor, Slave,’ I told her. The music, which had stopped, began again. She turned furiously, yet gracefully, extending a leg, touching an ankle, moving her hands up her leg, looking at me over her shoulder, and then rolled, and writhed, as though beneath the lash of master. The dancer now lay on her back and the music was visible in her breathing, and in small movements of her head, and hands. Her hands were small and lovely. She lay on the map floor, her head turned toward us. She was covered with sweat. I snapped my fingers and her legs turned under her, and she was kneeling, head back, dark hair on the tiles. Her hands moved, delicate, lovely.

“Slowly, if permitted, she would rise to an erect kneeling position; her hands, as she lifted herself, extended toward us. Four times said I ‘No,’ each time my command forcing her head back, her body bent, to the floor, and each time, again, to the music, she lifted her body. The fifth time I let her rise to an erect kneeling position. The last portion of her body to rise was her beautiful head. The collar was at her throat. Her dark eyes, smoldering, vulnerable, reproachful, regarded me. Still did she move to the music, which had not yet released her. With a gesture I permitted her to rise to her feet.”—Tribesman

Need Dance: Highly sexual and performed in five distinct phases, the slave piteously expresses her erotic needs before men in the hopes of being raped.

“I turned away and gave my attention to the slave writhing on the tiles before us.

“She was performing a need dance, of a type not uncommon among Gorean female slaves. Such a dance usually proceeds in clearly defined phrases, evident not merely in the expressions and movements of the girl but in the nature of the accompanying music. There are usually five phases to such a dance. In the first phase the girl, dancing, feigns indifference to the presence of men, before whom, as a slave, she must perform. In the second phase, for she has not yet been raped, her distress and uneasiness, her restlessness, her disturbance by her sexual urges, must become subtly more manifest. Here it must be evident that she is beginning to feel her sexuality, and drives, profoundly, and yet is struggling against them. Toward the end of this phase it must become clear not only that she has sexual needs, and deep ones, but that she is beginning to fear that she may not be, simply as she is, of sufficient interest to men to obtain their satisfaction. Here, need, coupled with anxiety and self-doubt, for she has not yet been seized by strong men, must become clear. In the third phase of the dance she, in an almost ladylike fashion, acknowledges herself defeated in her attempt to conceal her sexuality; she then, again in an almost ladylike fashion, delicately but clearly, with restraint but unmistakably, acknowledges, and publicly, before masters, that she has sexual needs. Then, with smiles, and gestures, displaying herself, she makes manifest her readiness for the service of men, her willingness, and her receptivity. She invites them, so to speak, to have her. But she has not yet been seized by an arm or an ankle, or by her collar, a thumb hooked rudely under it, or hair, and pulled from the floor. What if she is not sufficiently pleasing? What if she is not to be fulfilled? What if she must continue to dance, alone, unnoticed? At this point it becomes clear to her that it is by no means a foregone conclusion that men will find her of interest, or that they will see fit to satisy her. She must strive to be pleasing. If she is not good enough she may be chained, unfulfilled, another night alone in the kennel. There are always other girls. She must earn her rape. Too, if she should be insufficiently pleasing consistently it is likely that she will be slain. Goreans place few impediments in the way of liberation of a slave female's sexuality. In this phase of the dance, then, shamelessly the woman dances her need and, shamelessly, begs for her sexual satisfaction. The phase of the dance is sometimes known as the Heat of the Collared She-Sleen. The fifth, and final phase, of the dance, is far more dramatic and exciting. In this phase the girl, overcome by sexual desire and terrified that she may not be found sufficiently pleasing, clearly manifests, and utterly, that she is a slave female. In this portion of the dance the girl is seldom on her feet. Rather, sitting, rolling, and changing position, on her side, her back, her belly, half kneeling, half sitting, kneeling, crawling, reaching out, bending backwards, lying down, twisting with passion, gesturing to her body, presenting it to masters for their inspection and interest, whimpering, moaning, crying out, brazenly presenting herself as a slave, pleading for her rape, she writhes, a piteous, begging, vulnerable, ready slave, a woman fit for and begging for the touch of a master, a woman begging to become, at the least touch of her master, a totally submitted slave. The fourth phase of the dance, as I have mentioned, is sometimes known as the Heat of the Collared She-Sleen. This portion of the dance, the fifth portion, is sometimes known as the Heat of the Slave Girl. The music ended with a swirl of sound and the girl, with a jangle of bells, lay before the table of Policrates, whimpering, her hand extended. She lifted her head. I read the unmistakable need in her eyes. She was indeed a slave female.”—Rogue, 185-6

Placatory Dance: When a girl fears that she may be beaten, she may beg to dance for her Master’s pleasure, thus arousing his desires rather than his anger.

“There are many forms of placatory dances which are performed by female slaves. Some of these tend to have rather fixed forms, sanctioned by custom and tradition, such as the stately ‘Contrition Dance’ of Turia. Some form of placatory dance is usually taught to the girl in slave training. There is no telling when it might be needed. Though I had had, because of the relatively advanced state of my dancing skills, for a new slave, very little instruction in dance in the house of my first training, I had been taught at least that much. The form of placatory dance taught to a girl usually depends on the girl in question. For example, I had not been taught the stately ‘Contrition Dance’ of Turia. It had been felt that the nature of my body lent itself to a more desperate, needful, lascivious form of dance. I had been taught how to dance on my knees, for example, and, supplicatingly, on my back, and belly. Most placatory dances, however, are not fixed-form dances, but are ‘free’ dances, in which the slave, exquisitely alert to the nuances of the situation, the particular master, the nature of his displeasure, the gravity of her offense, and such, improvises, doing her best to assuage his anger and beg his forgiveness, to reassure him of the authenticity of her contrition and the genuineness of her desire to do better.”—Dancer, 332-5

“Another girl, a slim blonde, was thrust into the circle. Her master, arms folded, regarded her. She lifted her chained wrists above her head, palms facing outwards, this, because of the linkage of the manacles, tightening it, bringing the backs of her hands closely together. She faced her Master. Desperate was she to please him. There was a placatory aspect to her dance. It seemed she wished to divert his wrath…
“She had perhaps begged to be permitted to appear before him in the dancing circle, that she might attempt to please him. He had perhaps acquiesced. I recalled he had thrust her into the circle, perhaps in this generously according her, though perhaps with some impatience, and misgivings, this chance to make amends for some perhaps unintentional, miniscule transgression. Perhaps his paga had not been heated to the right temperature...

“The blonde was on her knees, extending her hands to her Master, piteously, all this with the music in her arms, her shoulders, her head and hair, her belly. Her Master seized her from the circle then and hurried her from the light... I thought the blonde had very successfully managed to divert the Master's wrath, assuming that was what she was up to. The only whip she need fear now, muchly, at any rate, would seem to be the ‘whip of the furs.’ To be sure, she might be given a stroke or two, if only to remind her that she was slave.”--Magicians, 44-6:

Pole Dance: Interestingly enough, pole dances rarely feature an actual pole. Rather, the “pole,” itself symbolic of a Master, is represented by the dancer’s movements “around” it and while “affixed to” it. Wooden poles are generally only used in training exercises. The exception is Winyela’s ceremonial dance in Blood Brothers of Gor, in which she writhes upon and gives obeisance to a pole which is lying upon the ground. The pole, once a great tree, is symbolic of life to the Kaiila tribe; to the slave, as it is in any pole dance, the pole is symbolic of a Master.

“The dancer was now moving slowly to the music. I turned to watch the dancer. She danced well. At the moment she writhed upon the ‘slave pole,’ it fixing her in place. There is no actual pole, of course, but sometimes it is difficult to believe there is not. The girl imagines that a pole, slender, supple, swaying, transfixes her body, holding her helplessly. About this imaginary pole, it constituting a hypothetical center of gravity, she moves, undulating, swaying, sometimes yielding to it in ecstasy, sometimes fighting it, it always holding her in perfect place, its captive. The control achieved by the use of the ‘slave pole’ is remarkable. An incredible, voluptuous tension is almost immediately generated, visible in the dancer's body, and kinetically felt by those who watch. I heard men at the table cry out with pleasure. The dancer's hands were at her thighs. She regarded them, angrily, and still she moved. Her shoulder lifted and fell; her hands touched her breasts and shoulder; her head was back, and then again she glared at the men, angrily. Her arms were high, very high. Her hips moved, swaying. Then, the music suddenly silent, she was absolutely still. Her left hand was at her thigh; her right high above her head; her eyes were on her hip; frozen into a hip sway; then there was again a bright, clear flash of finger cymbals, and the music began again, and again she moved, helpless on the pole. Men threw coins at her feet. The dancer moaned, crying out, as though in agony. Still she remained impaled upon the slave pole, its prisoner.

“The hips of the dancer now moved, seemingly in isolation from the rest of her body, though her wrists and hands, ever so slightly, moved to the music. Samos, with a snap of his fingers, freed the dancer from the slave pole.”—-Tribesman, 8

“Suddenly, the two men with the kaiila quirts struck her across the back and, before she could do more than cry out, she was, too, pulled to her feet and forward, on the two tethers. She then stood, held by the tethers, wildly, before the pole. Cancega pointed to the pole. She looked at him, bewildered. Then the quirts, again, struck her, and she cried out in pain. Cancega again pointed to the pole. Winyela then put her head down and took the pole in her small hands, and kissed it, humbly. ‘Yes,’ said Cancega, encouraging her. ‘Yes.’ Again Winyela kissed the pole. ‘Yes,’ said Cancega.
“Winyela then heard the rattles behind her, giving her her rhythm. These rattles were then joined by the fifing of whistles, shrill and high, formed from the wing bones of the taloned Herlit. A small drum, too, then began to sound. Its more accented beats, approached subtly but predictable, instructed the helpless, lovely dancer as to the placement and timing of the more dramatic of her demonstrations and motions…
“Winyela danced. There was dust upon her hair and on her body. On her cheeks were the three bars of greases that marked her as the property of the Kailla. Grease, too, had been smeared liberally upon her body. No longer was she a shining beauty. She was now only a filthy slave, an ignoble animal, something of no account, something worthless, obviously, but nonetheless permitted, in the kindness of the Kaiila, a woman of another people, to attempt to please the pole.
“I smiled.
“Was this not suitable? Was this not appropriate for her, a slave? Winyela, kissing the pole, and caressing it, and moving about it, and rubbing her body against it, under the directions of Cancega, and guided sometimes by the tethers on her neck, continued to dance. I whistled softly to myself. ‘Ah,’ said Cuwignaka. ‘It is the Kaiila!’ chanted the men. ‘I think the pole will be pleased,’ I said. ‘I think a rock would be pleased,’ said Cuwignaka. ‘I agree,’ I said. Winyela, by the neck tethers, was pulled against the pole. She seized it, and writhed against it, and licked at it. ‘It is the Kaiila!’ chanted the men. ‘It is the Kaiila!’ shouted Cuwignaka. A transformation seemed suddenly to come over Winyela. This was evinced in her dance. ‘She is aroused,’ said Cuwignaka. ‘Yes,’ I said.
“She began, then, helplessly, to dance her servitude, her submission, her slavery. The dance, then, came helplessly from the depths of her. The tethers pulled her back from the pole and she reached forth for it. She struggled to reach it, writhing. Bit by bit she was permitted to near it, and then she embraced it. She climbed, then, upon the pole. There her dance, on her knees, her belly and back, squirming and clutching, continued...
“Winyela now knelt on the pole and bent backwards, until her hair fell about the wood, and then she slipped her legs down about the pole and lay back on it, her hands holding to the pole behind her head. She reared helplessly on the pole, and writhed upon it, almost as though she might have been chained to it, and then, she turned about and lay on the pole, on her stomach, her thighs gripping it, her hands pushing her body up, and away from the pole, and then, suddenly, moving down about the trunk, bringing her head and shoulder down. Her red hair hung about the smooth, white wood. Her lips, again and again, pressed down upon it, in helpless kisses.... Winyela, helplessly, piteously, danced her obeisance to the great pole, and, in this, to her master, and to men...
“Winyela was dragged back, toward the bottom of the pole on its tripods. There she was knelt down. The two men holding her neck tethers slipped the rawhide, between their fist and the girl's neck, under their feet, the man on her left under his right foot, and the man on her right under his left foot. But already Winyela, of her own accord, breathing deeply from the exertions of her dance, and trembling, had put her head to the dirt, humbly, before the pole. Then the tension on the two tethers was increased, the rawhide on her neck being drawn tight under the feet of her keepers. I do not think Winyela desired to raise her head. But now, of course, she could not have done so had she wished. It was held in place. I think this is the way she would have wanted it. This is what she would have chosen, to be owned, to serve, to be deprived of choice.

“The men about slapped their thighs and grunted their approval. The music stopped. The tethers were removed from Winyela's neck. She then, tentatively, lifted her head. It seemed now she was forgotten.”—Blood Brothers, 35

Sa-eela: One of the Lure Dances of the Love Starved Slave Girl, the Sa-aeela is one of the most sensuous and erotic of all Gorean slave dances. Like a more typical Need Dance, it is performed in clearly defined stages.

“The Sa-eela is one of the most moving, deeply rhythmic and erotic of the slaves dances of Gor. It belongs, generally to the genre of dances commonly known as the Lure Dances of the Love Starved Slave Girl. The common theme of the genre, of course, is the attempt on the part of a neglected slave to call herself to the attention of the master. The Sa-eela, usually performed in the nude, as though by a low slave, and by a girl freed of all impediments except her collar, is one of the most powerful of slave dances of Gor. It is done rather differently in different cities but the variations practiced in the river towns and, generally in the Vosk basin, are in my opinion, among the finest. There is no standardization for better or worse, in Gorean slave dance. Not only can the dances differ from city to city, but even from tavern to tavern, and from girl to girl. This is because each girl, in her own way, brings the nature of her own body, her own dispositions, her own sensuality and needs, her own personality, to the dance… For the woman, slave dance is a uniquely personal and creative art form. Too, it provides her with a wondrous modality for deeply intimate self-expression…

“The Sa-eela, of course is not the sort of dance which could be performed by a free woman. Peggy now danced upon her knees, at the end of the table using the table in the dance, thrusting her belly against it, and touching it with her hands, and her body and lips. “Peggy then was back from the table, on the tiles, on her back, and sides, and knees, and then prone, and again supine, and then writhing, as though in frustration and loneliness.

“I observed the dancer, closely, the striking of her small, clenched fists on the tiles, the scratching of her fingernails at their smooth surfaces, the turning of a hip, the flattening of a thigh, the lifting of a knee, the turning of her head, the piteous scattering of her hair from side to side. She lay on her back, and whimpering, struck down in misery, stinging the palms of her hands, bruising her small heels. She might have been in a cell, locked away from men.

“She then rolled to her stomach, and rose to her hands and knees, and head down remained for a moment in that posture. It is at this moment that the music enters a different melodic phase, one less physical and frenzied, one almost lyrical in its poingnance. She crawls some feet to her left and lifts her head. She puts out her small hand. It seems that it there encounters some barrier, some enclosing, confining wall. She then rises to her feet. Swiftly she hurries about, in the graceful, frightened haste of the dancer, her hands seeming to trace the location of the obdurate barriers, those invisible walls which seem to contain her. She then stood and faced us, and put her head in her hands, bent over and straightened her body, her head and hair thrown back. ‘I?’ she seemed to ask, looking out, as though some rude jailer might have come to the gate of her pen. But there is of course, no one there, and in the performance of the dance, that is clearly understood. Then, in poignant fantasy, within the pen, she prepares herself for the Master, seeming to thoughtfully select silks and jewelry, seeming to apply perfume and cosmetics, seeming to be bedecked in shimmering diaphanous slave splendor. She then crosses her wrists, and moves them, as though they have been bound. She then extends them before her as though the strap on them had been drawn taut. It then seems that she, head high, a bound slave is being led on her tether, from the pen. But, at the gate, of course, her wrists separate, and her small palms and fingers indicate for us clearly, that she is still confined. She retreats to the center of the pen, falls to her knees, covers her head with her hands, and weeps.

“The next phase of the music begins at this point.

“She looks up. There is a sound in the corridor, beyond the gate. She leaps up, and backs against the wall of her pen. This time, it seems, truly, there are men there, that they have come for her. She puts her head up; she turns away; she feigns disdain. Then it seems as if she, startled, looks about, on the floor of the pen, calling to them, lifting her head, holding out her hand piteously to them. She pleads to be considered. It then seems, as she shrinks back, lifting herself to the palms of her hands, frightened, that the gate to her pen has been opened. She kneels swiftly in the position of the pleasure slave. Obviously she fears her rude jailers. Twice it seems she is struck with a whip. Then she again assumes the position of a pleasure slave. She nods her head. She understands well what is expected of her. She is to perform well on the tiles of the feasting hall.

“‘Yes Masters!’ it seems she says.

“But how little do her jailers, perhaps only common and boorish fellows, understand that this is precisely what she too, deeply and desperately desires to do. How long she has waited, in cruel frustration, unfulfilled and lonely, in her cell for just such a moment, that precious opportunity in which she a mere slave, may be permitted to display and present herself for the consideration of her master. How can they understand the poignance, and significance of this moment for her? She is to have an opportunity to present herself before the master! Who knows if she in such a large house, one with such cells and jailers, may ever again be given such an opportunity. It then seems that she is hauled to her feet and that her wrists, tightly and cruelly, are bound behind her back. Her body and head are then bent far over. Her head twists. It seems a man's hand is in her hair. Not as a high slave, clothed in jewelry and shimmering silks, tastefully bound, is she to be conducted to the site of her performance, some aristocratic banquet; rather, cruelly bound and nude, she is to be thrown before masters at a drunken feast. She then with small, hurried steps, bent over, described a wide circle on the tiles. Then, it seemed, she was thrown to her knees, and then her side, before us. Her hands were still held as though tightly bound behind her. She looked at us. We were of course, the ‘masters,’ before whom she was to perform. She rose to her feet. She twisted as though her hands were being untied. She then flexed her legs and lifted her hands over her head, as she had in the beginning, back to back.

“The final phases of the Sa-eela then begin.

“In these phases the girl, in all her unshielded beauty, and naked except for the collar of slavery, attempts to arouse the interest of her master.

“Peggy's body gleamed with sweat. She had small feet, and lovely high arches. Her body was superb. She had now entered into the display phase of the Sa-eela. In this portion of the dance the girl calls attention to the various aspects of her beauty, from the swirling sheen of her cascading hair, to her ankles, from her small feet to her tiny, fine fingers.

“The music now, pounding and throbbing, mounted headily toward the climax of the Sa-eela. In these, the final portions of the Sa-eela, the slave, in effect, puts herself at the mercy of the master. She has already presented before him, almost in a delectable enumeration, many of the more external and rhythmic aspects of her beauty. She has displayed herself hitherto before him rather as an object in which, hopefully, he might take an interest. A woman may do this, of course from many motives; such as fear or her desire to be purchased by an affluent master, only one of which might be her authentic, poignant desire to be found pleasing by him, for her own sake. In such displays there can be, though there often is not, a subtle psychological distinction, detectable in the behavior, between the merchandise, so to speak, and the girl who is displaying herself as merchandise. In the first case, where no true distinction exists, which is the authentic case, the girl in effect says, ‘I am for sale. Buy me, and love me!’ In the second case, the girl in effect says, ‘Here is a fine slave. Are you not interested in her?’

“In the second case of course, the Gorean is interested, though the girl may not understand this clearly, in not only the merchandise but the girl who is displaying the merchandise. She might truly be terrified if she understood that it was herself he intended to own, and in fact, was going to own, she the exhibitor of the merchandise as well as she, the merchandise exhibited. Goreans, as I have mentioned, are interested in owning the whole woman, in all her sweetness, depth, complexity and individualism.

“The girl now, in all her helplessness, in all her desperation, in all her sensual splendor, was dancing not aspects or attributes of her beauty before her master, but was dancing her own passions, her own needs and desires, her own piteous needful, beautiful, intimate and personal self before him. There were no restraints, no reservations, no compromises, no divisions or distinctions. Her needs were as exposed as her collared body. She danced herself before her master.

“The music swirled to its climax and Peggy, turning, flung herself to her back on the tiles. As the music struck its last, rousing note, she arched her back, and flexed her legs, and looked back at him, her right arm extended piteously back toward him.”

Six Thongs, Dance of the: This dance, like the belt dance, requires that the slave dance with a man – or, in this case, six of them -- who take the role of her captors. As in all slave dances, despite her initial struggle, the girl must helplessly and joyously submit.

“It was to be the dance of the six thongs. She slipped the silk from her and knelt before the great table and chair, between the other tables, dropping her head. She wore five pieces of metal, her collar and locked rings on her wrists and ankles. Slave bells were attached to the collar and the rings. She lifted her head, and regarded me. The musicians, to one side, began to play. Six of my men, each with a length of binding fiber, approached her. She held her arms down, and a bit to the sides. The ends of six lengths of binding fiber, like slave snares, were fastened on her, one for each wrist and ankle, and two about her waist; the men, then, each holding the free end of a length of fiber, stood about her, some six or eight feet from her, three on a side. She was thus imprisoned among them, each holding a thong that bound her. Sandra then, luxuriously, catlike, like a woman awakening, stretched her arms. There was laughter.

“It was as though she did not know herself bound. When she went to draw her arms back to her body there was just the briefest instant in which she could not do so, and she frowned, looked annoyed, puzzled, and then was permitted to move as she wished. I laughed. She was superb.

”Then, still kneeling, she raised her hand, head back, insolently to her hair, to remove from it one of the ornate pins, its head carved from the horn of kailiauk, that bound it. Again a thong, this time that on her right wrist, prohibited, but only for an instant, the movement, but inches from her hair. She frowned. There was laughter.

“At last, sometimes immediately permitted, sometimes not, she had removed the pins from her hair. Her hair was beautiful, rich, long and black. As she knelt, it fell back to her ankles. Then, with her hands, she lifted the hair again back over her head, and then, suddenly, her hands, by the thongs were pulled apart and her hair fell again loose and rich over her body. Now, angrily, struggling, she fought to lift her hair again but the thongs, holding apart her hands, did not permit her to do so. She fought them. The thongs would permit her only to wear her hair loosely.

“Then, as though in terror and fury, as though she now first understood herself in the snares of a slave, she leaped to her feet, fighting, to the music, the thongs. The dancing girls of Port Kar, I told myself, are the best on all Gor.

“Dark and golden, shimmering, crying out, stamping, she danced, her thonged beauty incandescent in the light of the torches and the frenzy of the slave bells. She turned and twisted and leaped, and sometimes seemed almost free, but was always, by the dark thongs, held complete prisoner. Sometimes she would rush upon one man or another, but the others would not permit her to reach him, keeping her always a beautiful female slave snared in her web of thongs. She writhed and cried out, trying to force the thongs from her body, but could not do so.

“At last, bit by bit, as her fear and terror mounted, the men, fist by fist, took up the slack in the thongs that tethered her, until suddenly, they swiftly bound her hand and foot and lifted her over their heads, captured female slave, displaying her bound arched body to the tables. There were cries of pleasure from the tables, and much striking of the right fist on the left shoulder. She had been truly superb. Then the men carried her before my table and held her bound before me. ‘A slave,’ said one. ‘Yes,’ cried the girl, ‘slave!’ The music finished with a clash. The applause and cries were wild and loud. I was much pleased.”—Raiders, 228

Tile Dance: A slave writhes on her back, belly, sides, and knees upon tiles. The general context is that she expresses her abject needs as though no one is watching and is then “surpised” by her Master before whom she must now perform.

“The tile dance is commonly performed on red tiles, usually beneath the slave ring of the master's couch. The girl performs the dance on her back, her stomach and sides. Usually her neck is chained to the slave ring. The dance signifies the restlessness, the misery, of a love starved slave girl. It is a premise of the dance that the girl moves and twists, and squirms, in her need, as if she is completely alone, as if her need is known only to herself; then, supposedly, the master surprises her, and she attempts to suppress the helplessness and torment of her needs; then, failing this, surrendering her pride in its final shred, she writhes openly, piteously, before him, begging him to deign to touch her. Needless to say, the entire dance is observed by the master, and this, in fact, of course, is known to both the dancer and her audience, the master.

“The tile dance, for simple psychological and behavioral reasons, having to do with the submission context and the motions of the body, can piteously arouse even a captured, cold free woman; in the case of a slave, of course, it can make her scream and sob with need.”—Explorers, 14

Veil Dance: A veil dance may be performed stylistically, with seven veils; or the veils may simply be a prop with which a dancer can whirl, hide behind, or envelop a Master.

“Before us, loosening her veil at the right hip, she danced. Then she took it from her left shoulder, where it had been tucked beneath the strap of her halter. With the veil loose, covering her, holding it in her hands, she danced before us. Then she regarded us, dark-eyed, over the veil; it turned about her body, then... she wafted the silk about her, immeshing her in its gossamer softness. I saw the parted lips, the eyes wide with horror, of the kneeling, harnessed girl, through the light, yellow veil; then the dancer had drawn it away from her, and, turning, was again in the center of the floor. The dancer whirled near us, then enveloped me in her veil. Within the secrecy of the veil, binding us together, she moved her body slowly before me, lips parted, moaning... I slowly removed her veil from her, then threw it aside.”—Tribesman, 8

Whip Dance: In this sort of dance, a slave’s movements are encouraged by the cracking of a whip. Should her movements not be pleasing, she will be beaten with it instead. A slave’s dance is generally interrupted when she is drawn into the sexual service of one or more men; when they are finished, she will then resume her dance. This process will continue until all of the men are satisfied or tire of the sport.

“There are many whip dances on Gor, of various sorts. In a context of this sort, presumably not in a tavern, and without music, the girl is expected to move, writhe and twist seductively before strong men.”—Kajira, 157

Devices, Props, and Symbolism: Dancers will often use-or pantomime using-various devices such as flowers, slave chains and bracelets, fruit, scenery, bits of silk, and so forth, to aid in their story-telling. The girl’s costume or the manner in which she fixes her hair can also be of symbolic significance.

“All eyes were on the dark-haired dancer, the skirt of diaphanous scarlet dancing silk low upon her hips. Her hands moved as though she might be, starved with desire, picking flowers from a wall in a garden. One saw almost the vines from which she plucked them, and how she held them to her lips, and, at times, seemed to press herself against the wall which confined her. Then she turned and, as though alone, danced her need before the men.

“I idly observed the dancer. Her eyes were on me. It seemed, in her hands, she held ripe fruits for me, lush larma, fresh picked. Her wrists were close together, as though confined by the links of slave bracelets. She touched the imaginary larma to her body, caressing her swaying beauty with it, and then, eyes piteous, held her hands forth, as though begging me to accept the lush fruit. Men at the table clapped their hands on the wood, and looked at me. Others smote their left shoulders. I smiled. On gor, the female slave, desiring her master, yet sometimes fearing to speak to him, frightened that she may be struck, has recourse upon occasion to certain devices, the meaning of which is generally established and culturally well understood... to kneel before the master and put her head down and lift her arms, offering him fruit, usually a larma, or a yellow Gorean peach, ripe and fresh. These devices, incidentally, may be used even by a slave girl who hates her master but whose body, trained to love, cannot endure the absence of the masculine caress. Such girls, even with hatred, may offer the larma, furious with themselves, yet helpless, the captive of their slave needs, forced to beg on their knees for the touch of a harsh master, who revels in the sport of their plight....They are slaves. The girl now knelt before me, her body obedient still trembling, throbbing, to the melodious, sensual command of the music.

“I looked into the cupped hands, held toward me. They might have been linked in slave bracelets. They might have held lush larma. I reached across the table and took her in my arms, and dragged her, turning her, and threw her on her back on the table before me. I lifted her to me, and thrust my lips to hers, crushing her slave lips beneath mine.”—Tribesman, 8

“What memories this stirred in me! The musicians then began to play, softly. The girl emerged from the kitchen. There were sounds of pleasure, and surprise, from those about the table. The dark-haired girl, exquisite and lovely, stood in the light, on the tiles, back from the foot of the table, that we might well see her. Her hair was drawn severely back on her head. She wore what seemed to be a svelte, satin, off-the-shoulder, white sheath gown. Twisted about her feet, over and under, were golden straps.
“The girl then turned gracefully before us, displaying the garments. I saw that her hair, severely drawn back on her head, was fastened behind the back of her head in a bun. I had known it would be. I had not forgotten
“…I regarded her. How beautiful she was! She looked at me. Then, gracefully and decisively, to the music, she unbound her hair.
“There was applause for this at the table, the gentle striking of left shoulders, for she had done it well, and the significance of a woman's unbinding her hair before a man is well understood on Gor.
“She then, reaching to the left side, beneath her arm, of what seemed to be a white sheath gown, undid a fastening, and then others, at the side of her body, her waist, her thigh, and knee, and then, gracefully, the Gorean music unobtrusive but melodious in the background, removed the garment. I saw then that a rectangle of white cloth, cleverly tucked and sewn, had been used to simulate the off-the-shoulder, white sheath gown on Earth. Such an actual gown, of course, had not been available to her on Gor. There was gentle, appreciative applause.
“She now stood before us in what seemed to be a brief, silken, off-the-shoulder slip. The girl then sat on the tiles before us, but back a bit, where we, sitting cross-legged at the low table, could well see her. She extended her right leg, gracefully. It was flexed and, as her foot was placed fully upon the floor, her toes were pointed. These two things, respectively, curved her calf deliciously and extended the line of her beauty. Her left leg was back, its ankle beneath her right thigh. She looked at me, and then, bending forward, removed the golden straps wound about and under her right foot. In the restaurant she bad worn golden pumps, with wisps of golden straps. She looked at me. Well did she, and the others, know the significance of removing footwear before a free man. She cast aside the straps she had taken from her right foot. Then, putting her hands back, swiftly and smoothly, beautifully, to the music, without rising, she changed her position on the tiles. Her left thigh now faced me. Her left leg was now gracefully extended, flexed and toes pointed. Her left thigh, and calf, and ankle and foot were marvelous. Her right foot, as her left previously had been, was back, the right ankle now beneath her right thigh. She then removed the golden straps from her left foot, and cast them aside. She looked at me.
“She had bared her feet before a free man. The golden straps she had used to simulate the footwear which she had worn on Earth were golden binding straps. They were the nearest thing she could find, within her limited resources, I gathered, to what she had worn in the restaurant. I did not object. They resembled somewhat, and well suggested, that footwear. Such straps, incidentally, are commonly used to bind the hands and feet of women. There was gentle applause for the girl, and murmurs of appreciation. The footwear had been well removed.
“She then rose to her feet and stood again before us, but now barefoot upon the tiles. She then reached again to her left side, and undid a fastening there, below her left arm, and then another below it, and then one at her hip. She then unwrapped the brief sliplike garment from her body, and dropped it to one side. “The brassiere had been simulated cleverly with soft white silk. Her beauty, soft, and almost as though protesting its confinement, strained against this silk. Too, between her breasts, this silk had been twisted and knotted, this making even more evident the sweet contours of her beauty, and the sturdy, silken restraint placed upon it. The panties, too, were simulated with white silk, which, in a narrow rectangle, had been wrapped twice about her hips and tucked in at her waist. There was no nether closure to this silk, of course. The Gorean slave girl is not permitted to shield her intimacies without the explicit permission of her master. Besides these two garments, intended, respectively, to suggest the brassiere and panties of an Earth girl, she still wore, of course, the light, narrow white scarf, this twisted and wound twice about her throat, the ends thrown over her left shoulder. The girl then, to the music, put back her head and put her hands behind her back, and, reaching high behind her back, this lifting her breasts beautifully, strained for a moment, and then, one by one, twisting slightly, undid the hooks on the confining, tight silk…
“The silk was then dropped to one side... She then reached to the white scarf on her throat and, beautifully, to the music, undid it one turn. She then, to the music, drew it beautifully, slowly, from her throat, and, gracefully, dropped it to one side. She wore, of course, now revealed, a close-fitting, gleaming slave collar…
“She lifted her head, and, with her fingers, delicately indicated and displayed the collar. She then stood before us as a barefoot, half-naked, collared slave. Gorean applause, and murmurs of appreciation, greeted this aspect of her performance. Our eyes met again.
“She then reached with her right hand to her waist and undid the tuck in the silk which was wrapped about her hips. Slowly and beautifully then, to the music, with both hands, she unwound the silk, and then dropped it to the tiles…

“She then crawled to me, on her hands and knees, her head humbly down. Then, when she reached me, she lowered herself to her belly and, extending her right hand, touched me on the knee. She lifted her head. ‘You are my master,’ she said, ‘and I am your slave, and I love you!’”-Guardsman, 247

Common Dance Endings: Dances often end in postures of abject submission.

“Then it finished in a swirl and I spun and sank to my knees before them, my head down, my hands on my thighs, in a common ending position for such a dance. Never before, however, I think, had I been so suddenly and deeply struck with the meaning of this ending position, it following the beauty of the dance, its presentation of the dancer in a posture of submission.”—Dancer, 32

“Yesterday, at the conclusion of my last lesson, when in a swirl of music, I had lowered myself to the floor, in a dancer’s posture of abject submission before men, I had heard several of them cry out with approval, and strike their left shoulders repeatedly, fiercely, with the palms of their hands.”—Dancer, 168

--quotes gathered, in part, by sollaris{MTC}; edited by ~delilah~ {K}

"dancingform" graphic found upon various dance pages at The Central Fire, located at www.counter-urth.com

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