Gorean Commands and Positions

Slaver's Caress

Whip Caress

Then, before I could realize what he intended, he had subjected Miss Cardwell to what, among slavers, is known as the Whip Caress. Ideally it is done, as Kamchak had, unexpectedly, taking the girl unawares. Elizabeth suddenly cried out throwing her head to one side. I observed to my amazement the sudden, involuntary, uncontrollable response to the touch. The Whip Caress is commonly used among Slavers to force a girl to betray herself.  NOMADS OF GOR; 4; Pages 168-169

“You were beaten,” I said, “because you ran away. Normally a girl who does what you did is maimed or thrown to sleen or kaiila, and that he touched you with the whip, the Slaver’s Caress, that was only to show me, and perhaps you, that you were female.”
She looked down. “He shamed me,” she said. “I cannot help it that I moved as I did I cannot help that I am a woman.”  NOMADS OF GOR; 4; Page 281

“Perhaps that is what you desire,” I said, “to yield with the utterness of a female slave.”
“Never!” she cried, weeping in fury. “Leave me!”
“Not until you have become a slave,” I told her.
She cried out in misery. “I do not want to be a slave!”
But when I had touched the most intimate beauties of her she became uncontrollable, writhing, and in my arms I knew the feeling of a slave girl and such, for the moment, was the beautiful Elizabeth Cardwell, helpless and mine, female and slave.
Now her lips and arms and body, now those only of an enamored wench in bondage, sought mine, acknowledging utterly and unreservedly, shamelessly and hopelessly, with helpless abandon, their master.
I was astonished at her for even the touch of the whip, her involuntary response to the Slaver’s Caress, had not seemed to promise so much.
She cried out suddenly as she found herself fully mine.  NOMADS OF GOR; 4; Page 302

The third lot was a High Caste girl of Cos who stood before us clad in the complete robes of Concealment, which, piece by piece, were removed from her. She was beautiful, and had been free; she was not trained; she was of the Scribes, and had been picked up by pirates from Port Kar. She did nothing to move the buyers but stood, head down, numb on the block until she was completely revealed. Her movements were wooden. The crowd was not pleased. There was only a two gold piece bid. Then taking the whip from the whip slave the auctioneer stepped to the disconsolate girl; suddenly, without warning, he administered to her the Slaver’s caress, and her response was utterly and uncontrollably, wild, helpless. She regarded him with horror. The crowd howled with delight. Suddenly she threw herself, screaming hysterically, on the auctioneer, but he cuffed her to one side and she fell to her knees weeping. She was sold for twenty-five gold pieces.  ASSASSIN OF GOR; 5; Pages 294-295

The auctioneer seemed beside himself. The auctioneer, subtly, or apparently so, then administered the Slaver’s caress to her, but she scarcely noted the touch. Then I understood what was going on, perhaps belatedly, for I knew the girl, Red Silk before the black ships, was extremely responsive, and had even been used in the hall of Cernus for the amusement of his Warriors and guards; she had known the caress would be given; she had been ready; she had perhaps, in fact probably, been anesthetized. The crowd hooted and screamed for her to be taken away, while she looked at them in puzzlement, like a bosk cow, scarcely comprehending or concerned.  ASSASSIN OF GOR; 5; Page 296

I looked at her. I wondered what she would bring me on the block. Yesterday I would have regarded her as a four-gold-piece girl. But today lovely Ilene’s value had considerably increased. I imagined her ascending the block, turning for the buyers, presenting her beauty for their consideration, responding to the deft guidance of the auctioneer’s coiled whip. And then, when she was unready, when she did not expect it, he would, with the coiled whip, administer to her the slaver’s caress. I could well conjecture, now, the response of the awakened body. The crowd would be much pleased. The movement would be startled, involuntary, sudden, wild, helpless, uncontrollable. Her womanhood would have been betrayed. How enraged, how tearful, she would be. The men would laugh. She had been forced, tricked, before her buyers, on the very block itself, into displaying publicly the ready womanhood of her.  HUNTERS OF GOR; 8; Pages 220-221

"One moment, little Dina," he said. "Come here."
"Yes, Master," I said, running lightly to him.
"Place your hands in your hair," he said, "and do not remove them until you are given permission."
"Master?" I asked.
I placed my hands in my hair. He took me by the back of the neck with his left hand and turned me to the crowd.
"Behold, Noble Sirs and Ladies," he said.
Suddenly I screamed fighting the looped, heavy coil of the whip.
"Stop! Please stop, Master!" I cried in misery. I dared not remove my hands from my hair. I feared I would, in my helplessness, tear out my own hair. "Please, stop, Master!" I cried out, twisting and squirming, held in place by his hand on my neck. I tried to fight the sensation of the whip.
"Writhe, little Dina," he said, "writhe."
I cried out, begging him to stop.
"Did you truly think," he hissed, "we would take a profit of only a copper tarsk on you? Do you think us fools to buy a girl for twenty and sell her for twenty-one? Do you not think we know our trade, little slut?"
I screamed for mercy.
Then, his demonstration finished, he released my neck. I fell to my knees before him on the block. My head was down. My hands were still in my hair. "You may remove your hands from your hair," he said. I took my hands from my hair and put them over my face, weeping. I shut my knees tightly, trembling, sobbing.
"Forty copper tarsks," I heard call from the floor, "from the Tavern of Two Chains."
"The Pleasure Silk bids fifty tarsks," I heard.
I had been tricked. The auctioneer had caught me by surprise. Without warning I had been forced to reveal myself as a true slave girl, openly, inadvertently, spontaneously, incontrovertibly, helplessly.
"The Jeweled Ankle Ring bids seventy," I heard.
He had handled his work well. He had exacted from the crowd the highest possible price in the given market before he revealed, unexpectedly and to her dismay, the delicious richness and vulnerability of the girl's exploitable latencies, they as much a part of her as her block measurements, and as much for sale. My responsiveness, like my intelligence, my service and my skills, such as they were, came with my price. The Gorean is satisfied only with the whole girl; it is the whole girl that he buys.  SLAVE GIRL OF GOR; 11; Page 290

“I saw, too,” he said, “the dancer, particularly in your transitions between the attitudes commanded of you in the slave paces. I knew then you were either a dancer, or had the makings of a dancer. Too, of course, your response to the slaver’s caress, later, was indicative. That, of course, would have been obvious even to a tharlarion.”  DANCER OF GOR; 22; Page 146

The auctioneer made certain her hands were clasped tightly behind the back of her neck. He actually took her hands in his and thrust them closely together. She looked at him, puzzled, slightly frightened. He stepped behind her.
I smiled.
She suddenly screamed, and sobbed and gasped, her hair, wet, expelled from her mouth. She looked at the auctioneer, in terror, but dared not release her hands from the back of her neck. He, with one hand, wadded together her hair, and thrust it again in her mouth. She must not cry out, or speak. In his right hand, coiled, he held the whip which he had removed from his belt a moment before. He had administered to her the slaver’s caress with the heavy coils. She shook her head, wildly. She tried to draw back, but his left hand, behind the small of her back, held her in place.
She threw back her head, shaking it wildly, negatively. Then there was a spasm. Then she sobbed, shuddering, tensing herself. The auctioneer then, holding her, brought the coils near her again. She put her head back, her eyes closed. But he did not touch her then. She opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling of the warehouse in which she was being sold. Still he did not touch her. She whimpered. Then I saw her legs tense and move, slight muscles in the thighs and calves. She half rose on her toes. Still he did not touch her. Then I saw her, with a sob, thrust herself toward the coils. But still he did not touch her. Then, as she looked at him, tears in her eyes, he, looking at her, deigned to lift the coils against her piteous, arched, pleading body. She then writhed at the chain, sobbing, her hands clenched behind her neck, her teeth clenched on her own hair. She tried to hold the whip between her thighs. He then withdrew the whip, and turned to the crowd, smiling. He fastened the whip at his belt.
“What am I bid?” he asked.
The girl whimpered piteously. He turned about and, with his right hand, open, cuffed her, as one cuffs a slave. Her head was struck upward and to the left. There was a bit of blood at her lip, which began to swell. There were tears in her eyes. She looked at him. She was silent.
“What am I bid?” asked the auctioneer.
“Four tarsks,” said a man.
“Six,” said another.
“Fifteen,” called out another.
“Sixteen,” said a man.
The girl, shuddering, standing as she had, her hair in her mouth, her hands behind her head, put her head down, miserably. She did not dare to look even at the bidders, who might own her. She knew that her needs had betrayed her.  EXPLORERS OF GOR; 13; Pages 40-41
 

Kudos to you, Mr. Norman for writing the Gorean series!
A rich, yet utterly simple saga; a world, a time, a people;
those of the Counter-Earth .. the planet .. Gor.
Thank you!

The material presented herein was researched and compiled by me, naia{Saul}.
The material referenced comes from John Norman's Gor Series, The Counter-Earth Saga.
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