Her emerald eyes gazed at him through thick, dark lashes that fluttered as she lay at his feet. Waiting for him to speak, she licked her luscious lips with her warm tongue. Suddenly, without a word, he reached for her with a finger, grabbing her collar ring and pulling her to his lap. He sat with her there before speaking.
"You have pleased me very much, kajira, I enjoy your dancing. It is improved, I can see that. I hope that kamra's is as good. But, every time I watch you dance, I see how much you bring your heart to it and that cannot be taught."
He smiled and she blushed, her heart pounding, a warm glow seemed to saturate her body. Lying in his arms, she waited for permission, hungering to touch or to kiss him. She hoped he would use her. When his lips found hers and she felt the heat of his breath on her body, she felt sure he would take her then and there.
One of his hands opened her willing thighs, pressed her mound and began to gently stroke. She closed her eyes, the pleasure of his touch causing a soft moan at the back of her throat.
He relished playing with her body like the instrument it was, now tuned to his liking.
The girl was his property, his possession; he allowed her these pleasures only with him. Thus she was trained, and yearned for this, and for him. This delighted him, the tremors in her body when he let his hands roam her soft, sensual curves, the murmurs of passion when his fingers or tongue explored, probed or stimulated her.
She was eager and devoted to his pleasure. She willingly did what he wanted. This was her purpose, to serve his needs. He reveled in it, in all of it, in all of her. But what he loved most was that he knew he was the center of her world.
He refused to share her and this was a matter of discord with his brothers, especially his twin, James. Slaves on Gor were used by others all the time and it was considered a matter of courtesy to offer a visitor the use of a girl. He never offered her.
That was partly why he bought kamra, his second girl, and partly because he didn't want arriyana spoiled. His brothers already called her Princess. His friends would laugh at him and he wanted to squash talk about how he treated her. Consequently, in public he was sharp with her, more so than when they were alone.
He would buy another girl on his next trip to the slave market. With other girls in the house to dally with, maybe they wouldn't tease. Still, he was not about to share his red-headed slut, no matter what the family had to say.
On Gor, one girl was considered as good as another. A slave's duty was to please and obey. Whether the slave liked it or not, enjoyed it or not, was of little concern. A whip or the slave goad would ensure obedience and behavior that was suitable.
His father believed that, and his brother Edward. But Steven had been mentored by Blaine, the Captain of the Guard. Blaine had taught him things about women, slaves in particular that he had never learned from his father.
For sure, sluts in taverns all over Gor responded to any man that took them to the alcoves. Many young, Gorean males were initiated in the taverns where a slut could be had for the price of a bowl of paga which was much like earth beer. Paga and a slut, he had even had his first woman that way, in a tavern when he was 16.
But he was of the opinion that having a kajira's body was only one part of ownership and only the first part of Mastery. He wanted it all, the girl's body and her heart, but most of all, he wanted her soul. He would accept nothing less.
He looked down at his slave girl. He was aroused by her, probably more than any female he had yet known. He rubbed his hand on her mound and his forefinger slipped down her slit. Her inner lips were moist, he took his finger and put it in her mouth. She sucked. He smiled.
"You are wet, mine. This pleases me. Were you well-behaved while I was away?"
