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In the dance I had power. In the dance I was beautiful. I saw
delight in the eyes of men. I heard gasps of admiration. To be sure, I was of a
body type, that of the natural woman, short-legged and well curved, that tends
to be attractive to Gorean men, and I think my face, which some had told me was
delicate and sensitive, and lovely and intelligent, which so easily betrayed my
emotions, may have been pleasing to them, but I think there was more to it than
these things. Had it been merely a matter of face and figure I do not think the
effect would have been the same. Many things were doubtless involved. One, of
course, was that it was a slave who danced. 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. Too, she is naked, or scantily clad, and
is bedecked in a barbaric manner. This speak of reality and savagery, of
ferocity, and beauty and barbarism, and of the fundamental meaningfulness of the
male/female relationship, that of master to slave. 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 know
herself subject, truly, to his whip. Another is when she is seized in his arms,
imperiously, and crushed to him. Too, I think in this dance I was also as
successful as I was because of the sort of woman I was, one who possessed deep
female needs, and profound passions. I was ready, even at that time, as I now
realize, to have the relentless torches of men set to the tinder in my belly,
that slave fires might be lit there, thence by service, submission and love, my
condition as slave, and the commands and touches of men, to be fanned, whether I
willed it or not, to my dismay and joy, into open conflagrations. But I think,
too, more simply, that there are skills involved, and that I was an excellent
dancer, even at that time.
Dancer of Gor, page 193
                
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