Belt Dance
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 suppose
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, page 185
