Archive for March 26th, 2015

Panther Moon Dance

Thursday, March 26th, 2015

Moon danceMoon danceMoon dance

“The moons are now risen,” said another panther girl, edging closer to Verna. She was looking at me.
“There is not much time,” said Mira. “Soon the moons will be at their full.”
“Let it begin,” said another girl.
Verna looked down upon me. “You wished to take us as slaves,” she said. “It is you who have been taken slave.”
I looked up at her in horror. I pulled at the thongs.
“Shave him,” she said.
I fought, but two girls held my head, and Mira, laughing, with a small bowl of lather and a shaving knife, shaved the two-and-one-half-inch degradation strip on my head, from the forehead to the back of my neck.
“You are now well marked,” said Verna, “as a man who has fallen to women.”
I pulled helplessly at the thongs.
“Slave,” said Mira.
“What are you going to do with me and my men?” I demanded.
“Bring a whip,” said Verna.
Mira leaped to her feet.
“Curiosity,” she siad, “is not becoming in a Kajirus.”
Mira returned with the whip, a five-strap Gorean slave whip.
“Beat him,” said Verna.
She beat me. My body, in the thongs, twisted and leaped under the lash.
“It is enough,” said Verna.
Mira laughed, and folded the lash.
It had been a brief beating, lasting only a few seconds. She had been permitted to strike me only some eight or nine times. I was breathing heavily, in pain. They had not wished to injure me. Verna had only wished to administer a sharp, not-too-soon-to-be-forgotten, lesson to her slave.
The girls now knelt about me, in a circle. They were silent. I looked up at the large, white, swift moons. There were three of them, a larger and two smaller, looming, dominating.
The girls were breathing heavily. They had set aside their weapons.
They knelt, their hands on their thighs, occasionally lifting their eyes to the moons. Their eyes began to blaze. They put back their heads. Their lips parted. Their hair fell behind their heads, their faces lifted to the rays of the moons. Then, together, they began to moan and sway from side to side. Then they lifted their arms and hands to the moons, still swaying from side to side, moaning. I pulled at the thongs that bound me. Then their moaning became more intense and the swaying swifter and more savage, and, crying out and whimpering, they began to claw at the moons.
Mira leaped to her feet and tore her skins to the waist, exposing her breasts to the wild light of the flooding moons. She shrieked and tore at the moons with her fingernails. In an instant, another girl, and then another, and another had followed her example. Only Verna still knelt, her hands on her thighs, looking at the moons. Beneath the moons, helplessly, I sought to free myself. I could not do so.
Mira now, the others following, crying out, tore away the scraps of panther skin that had yet concealed their beauty. They now wore only their gold, and their ornaments. Now, moaning, crying out, the she-beasts of the forest, the panther girls, hands lifted, clawing, began to stamp and dance beneath the fierce brightness of the wild moons.
Then suddenly, they stopped, but stood, still, their hands lifted to the moons.
Verna threw back her head, her fists clenched on her thighs, and cried out, a wild scream, as though in agony.
She leaped to her feet and, looking at me, tore away her skins.
My blood leaped before her beauty.
But she had turned away and, naked, her head back, had lifted her hands, too, clawing at the moons.
Then all of them, together, turned slowly to face me. They were breathing heavily. Their hair was disheveled, their eyes wild.
I lay before them, helpless.
Suddenly, as one, they seized up their light spears, and, swaying, spears lifted, began to circle me.
They were incredibly beautiful. (Hunters of Gor)