[Vote for the Fire Here!]
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As we spoke the slave, apparently unable to control herself, and not struck back or disciplined, began, at first timidly, then more boldly, to kiss and fondle Seibar. Soon she began to gasp and pant, pressing herself against him. At last he took her in his arms and put her on her back, across his legs. Her body was then like a bow, her head down on one side, in the dust, and her heels on the other side. "Keep your hands back, over your head," he said. "Yes, Master," she whimpered. He then, as we talked, caressed her. Soon her hands were clenching and unclenching and she was whimpering, writhing helplessly. Then, mercifully, he lifted her up by the shoulders and she put her head against his chest, her arms about his neck. Her eyes were wide. She squirmed, almost in shock, astounded, unable to believe the sensations she felt in her body.
Blood Brothers of Gor, page 370
...I rescued the bottle, her eyes opened very wide and then blinked about ten times. She exhaled slowly as if fire might be sizzling out instead of breath and then she shook, a delayed reaction, as if she had been thumped five times and then began to cough spasmodically and painfully until I, fearing she might suffocate, pounded her several times on the back. At last, bent over, gasping for breath, she seemed to be coming around. I held her by the shoulders and suddenly she turned herself in my hands and, as I was sitting cross-legged, threw herself on her back across my lap, her right wrist still chained to her left ankle. She stretched insolently, as well as she could. I was astounded. She looked up at me.
Nomads of Gor, page 157
"Svein Blue Tooth and I," said Ivar Forkbeard, rising, spilling Hilda from his lap, "have had our differences."
There was much laughter. The Forkbeard had had a price on his head. The Blue Tooth had sought his life.
Marauders of Gor, page 279
Angrily I put down the Sul paga and fetched the flask of the Ka-la-na of Ar, and filled her cup. She did not look at me, nor thank me, for I was a slave. Was she not, too, a slave? I saw her, in the shreds of her white gown, cuddling with her wine in my master's arms. She had risen swiftly in favor among the masters, displacing even Eta as favorite girl. I had feared, even from the beginning, that she would become excessively popular. My master was, apparently, much taken with her. I hated her. Eta, too, did not regard her with unusual affection.
Slave Girl of Gor, pages 134-135
I thrust Thyri from my lap, and seized Olga by the wrist, as she hurried past. I jerked her about, and to me, and threw her on her back across my knees. She, laughing, was fleeing Ottar who, drunkenly, was stumbling after her. She looked up at me, wildly. I put my hand in her hair, twisting it, she crying out, and thrust her up, to a sitting position, and then, by the hair, thrust her face to mine, and our lips met, I forcing my kiss to her teeth. Her naked body, collared, suddenly responded to mine, and she reached for me with her hands.
Marauders of Gor, page 129
Ivar Forkbeard roared with laughter, his head back. On his lap, naked, cuddling, sat she who had been Aelgifu, her arms about his neck, her lips to the side of his head; her name had now been changed; the new name of the daughter of Gurt, Administrator of Kassau, was Pudding. On his other side, stripped, her collar of black iron at her throat, her arms about his waist, rubbing herself against his belt, was the bond-maid Gunnhild.
Marauders of Gor, page 89
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