Elinor Dances Chained under the Three Moons of Gor

Rask of Treve Indicated me.
"Chain her," he said "under the moons of Gor."
"Come, Girl," said the guard.
I followed him.
I could now see the moons,
beginning to rise over the points of the palisade.
What did I care that the girl, Talena,
was tonight sent to the tent of Rask of Treve?
I hated him!
I hated her even more than him!
I wished the guard had not taken my clothes.
But when a girl is chained under tie moons of Gor,
she is chained naked.

I did not understand their intention.
I lay back in the grass.
I felt it with my hands.
I closed my eyes.
I smiled.
I was furious of course,
with what he had done to me,
but also,
I could not have helped responding to him as I had.
He had cruelly,
mercilessly,
unfairly,
giving me no option,
elicited from me the fantastic depths of sensation
of which I had not even realized my body was capable.
His touch as that of a master,
had commanded my body,
totally,
and I had swum in sensation,
clutching him,
fearing that I might drown with pleasure in his arms.
Laugh if you will,
but I could call him nothing but "Master."
Do not scorn me nor mock me until you yourself,
perhaps on some distant world someday wear a collar,
until you,
yourself as a slave have known the touch of such a man
as Rask of Treve.

I wept.
I threw myself against the chain,
running toward his tent,
and fell in the grass, my ankle burning,
scraped,
from the steel that obdurately clasped it.
On my hands and knees
I tried to crawl to the tent.
My left leg stretched taunt behind me, held.
I cried out with frustration and pounded the grassy earth,
weeping, with my fists.
I rolled on my back and looked up at the moons.
I lay there my fist clenched.
Then I closed my eyes.
I could not dare to look upon them again,
the great white, looming moons of Gor,
dominating the skies.
I pounded the grass
with the sides of my fists in misery.

Then I dared to look again upon the vast,
looming moons of Gor.
What choice had I?
I was only a girl
who had been chained naked beneath them.
I screamed and leaped to my feet,
my hands extended to the moons
I stood helplessly beneath them,
chained, naked, reaching for them.
Then I began to dance the madness of my need,
writhing beneath the moons of Gor,
clutching at them,
turning stamping my feet,
swirling,
crying out.

And when I could dance no more
I fell to the grass,
writhing, tearing at it,
whimpering.
(Captive of Gor, Pages 339-341)