Gorean dancing

There is an abundant variety of slave dances on Gor. They include such dances as these from the books including the belt dance, brand dance, capture dance, chain dance, display dance, hate dance, hunt dance, leash dance, love dances, love dance of the newly collared slave girl, mat dance, need dance, placatory dance, pole/post dance, rebellion dance, sa-eela dance, dance of the six thongs, submission dance, submission dance of the netted slave, tether dance, tile dance, dance of the Tuchuk Slave Girl, virgin dance, and the whip dance. This is by no means an exhaustive list and many of these dances are mentioned only briefly in the literature. There is no or little standardization in slave dance

Each go in their own way, brings to a dance her own personality, disposition, emotions, sensuality, and needs. A girl’s body type will also affect her style and method of dance. The location of the dance, the time of day, and the number and type of observers will also affect the dance. A girl may even dance the same dance differently each time she performs it. For most dances, there are only certain basics that the dance will share in common with other dances of the same name.

Music is not even necessary for slave dancing. It can be performed by a girl who only hears music within her own mind. Dancing also need not be more than simply beautiful movement. A kajira was advised to: “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 of Gor, p.60). Floor movements are a type of dance where the girl cannot rise higher than a man’s knees. “In few modalities is a woman’s slavery made clearer or more manifest than when she must perform floor movement, than when she must, in effect, dance before men, never rising higher than her knees.” (Kajira of Gor, p.288) Floor movements include such activities as turning, twisting, rolling, crawling, sometimes on hands and knees, sometimes on the stomach, sometimes kneeling, sitting, or lying, or half sitting, half lying, or half kneeling, half lying. The Turian knee walk is a specific type of floor movement that is not really described in the books. From its name we can surmise it involves much movement on your knees. A dance can also be extremely formal and structured, with clearly defined phases and a specific story that must be told.

Dancing may be done in the nude, with jewelry or even dancing silks. These silks are usually diaphanous and can be of any color. One common method of wearing the silks is to have them hung low on the girl’s hips and fall to her ankles. The silks though can be worn in a myriad of ways, all dependent on the girl, the dance and the audience. Jewelry can be of any type but most likely would be bright, shiny and make noise. One dancer wore a belt of small denomination, threaded, overlapping coins. Slave bells are also very common on dancers. Most often, men will place slave bells on a girl and generally only one who has authority over the slave. The slave herself will rarely put them on. The bells are often placed on their ankles though they could also be placed on wrists, belts or other areas. Many slave girls know how to wear their bells to drive a man crazy with passion. Zills, finger cymbals, may also be worn by a dancer. They are worn on the thumb and first finger of each hand. The dancer will judiciously use the clashing of the tiny cymbals to enhance her dancing.

The dancing chain, also known as the dancing collar, is another tool sometimes used to enhance a girl’s dancing. They are used often in the Tahari region. The basic dancing chain consists of a long, light chain. It attaches to a ring on a right manacle and then to a girl’s collar. It then descends to a ring on her left manacle. The chain hangs down to around her knees. This chain is meant to enhance her dance, not to restrict it. It does impose subtle limits but those are intentional, indicative of the girl’s bondage. A traditional chain in the Tahari is the oval and collar. To enter the chain, she will kneel, head down, in a large oval of chain. At the sides of the top of the oval are two wrist rings. At the sides of the bottom of the oval are two ankle rings. The oval will be pulled inward and the wrist and ankle rings fastened on the girl. A dancing collar is placed around her throat. The front of the collar has an open snap ring. The chain is then placed within the snap ring and locked into place. The wrists will now be about a yard apart and the ankles will be about eighteen inches apart.

Though all dances are different, varying even from girl to girl, there are some basics that are generally common to all. Dances may begin in a number of ways but a common starting position is to have your hands lifted over your head with the wrists back to back, your body held high and your stomach held in, with your right leg flexed and extended, only the toes touching the floor. Most dances also consist of a series of different phases. During these phases, the music may differ and the girl’s movements and expressions may also differ. In a story dance, each phase is meant to signify a different segment of the story. 

Here are some examples:

Dance 1

The  kajira now danced upon her knees, at the end of the coffee table, using the table in the dance, thrusting her belly against it, and touching it with her hands, and her body and lips.  

kajira  then, was back from the table, on the tiles, on her back, and sides, and knees, and then prone, and then again supine, and then writhing, as though in frustration and loneliness.

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 poignancy. 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 seemed to contain her. She then stood and faced the audience and put her head in her hands, bent over, and then 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 tight 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 the audience dearly, 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 she, startled, looks about, they are turning away. She then throws herself to her belly 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 the pleasure slave. She nods her head. She understands well what you want.    “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 jewelries and shimmering silks. 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 you 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.

Kajira 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 the slave girl  turning, flung herself to her back on the tiles before her Master 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 towards him.

Inspired by Livia. C U soon. 

Dance 2

kneeling back on her heels, her head up, her back straight, the palms of her hands down on her thighs. 

I tease  you dancing close to you swaying, my belly alive for you with the jangling metal pieces, the anklets clashing on my ankles, the bracelets sliding and ringing on my wrists, and then, as you attempt to seize me, I draw  back, backing away, or whirl, with a swirl of beads, away from you I keep  on  dancing close to you Suddenly in my dance it seemed I was a virgin, reluctant and fearful, terrified in the reality in which she found herself, but knowing she must respond to the music, to those heady, sensuous rhythms, to the wild cries of the flute, to the beating of the drum. I then danced timidity, and reluctance and inhibition, but yet reflecting, as one would, in such a situation, the commands of the music. I examined in dismay the beads about my neck, the cords at my waist, my  adorned ankles and wrists, I touched my thighs, and lifted my arms, looking at them, and put my hands upon my body, as though I could not believe that it was unclothed. I pretended to shrink down within myself, to desire to crouch down, and conceal and cover my nudity, but then I straightened up, fearfully, as though I had heard commands to desist in such absurdities, and then I extended my hands to the sides, to various sides, as though pleading for mercy, to be released from the imperatives of the music, but reacted, drawing back, as though I had seen the sight of a whip  am a basically shy person. But now I was dancing such things as shyness, and timidity, and fear, and curiosity, and fascination, as roles. Like many shy persons I can find myself in roles, and blossom forth in them.

I suddenly by expression and movement, an almost involuntary contortion of my belly, seemingly startling me, and frightening me, appeared to suddenly sense, or glimpse, my sexuality.

 I approach you in   the dance, and  my belly seeming to register, with its jangling accouterments, your presence. Each time I would draw back from you but my belly, my hips, would seem to propel me again toward you  I then felt my hips, and thighs, and breasts, and belly, as these seemed to come alive in the music. And then, throwing my head back, I danced unabashedly as an acknowledged, aroused slave, much as I had before, taunting you  teasing you delighting in my power, but then, suddenly, as though I sensed my ultimate helplessness, my ultimate inability to achieve total fulfillment without the wholeness of sexuality, without the master and the yielding, which gave meaning to the incipient passions within me, I danced the aroused slave who is the property of the master and begs his touch. 

Then I realized suddenly that I was actually aroused. The interior of my thighs were hot. My belly, hot and burning, seemed to beg to be touched. I do not know, really, whether I had done this to myself in the dance, which is possible, or if my arousal had merely came upon me in the course of the dance, but I was aroused. I was a helpless, aroused slave! This now was no role. It was what I was.

  I knew the music was approaching its climax, and the dance must be concluded.

I then, in the coda of my performance, danced helplessness and beauty, and submission, surrendering myself as I, in my collar, must, into the hands and mercy  of my Master. 

then the music was done and I lay before you on my back, my breasts rising and falling as I fought for breath, my body sheened with sweat, my hands beside me, palms up, my knees lifted slightly, my right knee highest, a slave before my  master. 

Dance 3

My hair is long and silken black, my eyes dark, the color of my skin tannish.

I dance   before my Master for several minutes, my scarlet dancing silks flashing in the firelight, my bare feet, with their belled ankles, striking softly on the carpet. With a last flash of the finger cymbals, i fell to the carpet before you  my breath hot and quick, my eyes blazing with desire.

Feeling a kind of delicious terror, i got up  and raised my wrists.

I dance my joy that I’ll soon lay in the arms of a strong Master My ankles in delicious proximity and wrists lifted again together back to back above my head, palms out. My ankles chained  i wore the linked ankle rings, the three-linked slave bracelets  gleaming in the fire light. The music grew more wild. Then I continue to dance boldly before you. I   tore from my own body the silk i wore and danced some more   My arms extending towards you  And i dance superbly for you.  every fiber of my  body straining to please this wonderful Master.  My eyes, each instant, pleading, trying to read in yours my fate. At last, when    could dance no more, i fell at   your feet,i put my head to your boots. I get up, using the chain to please you as i dance. “Yes,” I said, “you can consider it a dancei    am  writhing for my master, pausing now and then to startle you with my beauty, via the chain. There is even music here. Feel it in your belly. Deep in your belly! Deeper! Yes! Yes!”

Dance 4

Her distress and uneasiness, her restlessness, her disturbance by her sexual urges, wow? looking at u it must become clear not only that  i have sexual needs, and deep ones, but that i am  beginning to fear that i may not be, simply as  i am,of sufficient interest to men to obtain their satisfaction. Here, need coupled with anxiety andv self-doubt, for she has not yet been seized by strong men, must become clear. I  acknowledge  myself  defeated in my attempt to conceal my 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 mmasters 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 me that it is by no means a foregone conclusion that men will find me of interest, or that they will see fit to satisfy me I must strive to be pleasing. If i am not good enough i may be chained, unfulfilled, another night alone in the kennel. There are always other girls. I must earn my use.  I dance my need, shamelessly, begs for my sexual satisfaction. I am overcome by sexual desire and terrified that i may not be found sufficiently pleasing, clearly manifests, and utterly, that i am a slave female. Ini am now performing a floor dance.  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 use 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.