Describe a rose to a blind Master
The leash dangled down near her breasts, it was cold, and inviting. With a jolt she was lead down the streets of the city of Rorus, the man not able to see was led by a younger man. As we entered the small gardens near the falls, he placed to a bench, and I to kneel at his feet. Pleasant was the sound of the water as it crashed over the mountain and splashed into the small lake below. The younger man left to run some errands, and I left there beside the man who could not see. He spoke to me, but nothing to answer, only to listen. He began to tell me a story, of the sun and how it came to be, and I listened intently eager to know the ending, but when a wind flew about us, he said to me, “Girl, what is that I smell?” I tried to smell it too, but the wind had carried it off, “What did it smell like, Master?” I asked him, and he responded, “Long ago there was a girl, she danced in Ar, at a small café. She had lightness about her, and it is her perfume I smell now, soft and delicate but intoxicating.” I smiled softly and began to look around for this slave he so mentioned, or possibly the cause of such a memory.
Turning I look to the older man and said to him, “all that is here Master, is a beautiful flower, deep in crimson hue” she said softly, eagerly he petted my dark red hair, and said to me, “fetch one to me.” I quickly hurried to gather the flower delicately in my hand. Plucking it, I took it to him and said, “Here it is Master.” Then I held it before his nose, “yes” he said, “That is it” I smiled softly. “Tell me of it girl” then softly, I stared to the flower, lost in its gaze. It had wet dew upon its folds, and it was tightly closed, just starting to bloom. “It is a young flower Master, dark in the hue of scarlet, as the sash of a warrior. I let it touch his arm and slide down his flesh, and a small groan was heard from his lips. I smiled and then stopped just near his wrist, “Its petals are of the softest silk in all of Gor Master” I continued to let it trail up to his lips and said, “It is sensual and wet upon they lips, yet soft and light to the touch”
He gasped again, and kissed the flower. I imagined him taking the slave he longed for and kissing her lips. I could sense by his reaction it might have been what he thought of as well. My heart leapt for this desire, and then I pulled it back and smelled it, “its scent, soft, and light. Perfect for the match of finest scents of perfume Master” another breeze picked up and blew the scent of the rose bushes towards them. He sighed and groaned again. I plucked a petal, a small snap heard from the youngness of its unbloomed rapture. I swallowed hard and said, “It is young, and ripe like that of a white silk slave Master” then I could feel his hand in my hair, pulling me. Up on my knees I went, the flower between us, gave fruit to sweet delightful scents, as he kissed me hard, lost in a memory of a girl he long desired from Ar.
Sense of Touch:
Stepping into the soft cool sand, beneath the three moons of Gor; I squish my toes in deeper to get a good stand. My crimson skirts are thick and heavy, and tied tightly around my waist. My fingers slide up my taut belly and then higher into the air. I shake my head, letting my garnet lochs cascade down my shoulders. The music begins to play, and with a twist of my ankle, and rock of my hip my skirts begin to twist and twirl up my legs as I start to tell my story of longing to the free who looked upon me.
Question 2:
Sense of Smell:
As I sway, the drumming was louder, and my heart raced in my chest. I could smell the fire, its heat was intense, as the heat of my need for the touch of a man. I could smell its musky scent coating the night with it dark smoke. Each pop of moisture escaping the wood, made me dance much harder. I could see the eyes of the men upon me, and I was nervous to not be found pleasing. I toyed with my crimson skirts, lifting them higher to tease the men, but I was thankful. I could smell the thassa near us, hear the ships coming into port. Each wave brought the salty water wafting in the air to beat down the fire, to calm the heat, but my heat was far too intense, it could not be defeated, it could only be Mastered.
Question 3:
A. The senses that were described were, Hearing, Seeing, Touching
B. The ones left out were Smelling, and Tasting
C.
I continue to sway in the sand, the light of the moon shining down upon me, and giving me a tender glow. I slide my fingers through my silky lips, before darting my tongue out to taste the sweat that started to coat my body. I listened to the waves beating down upon the shore, and some shouts of men as they commanded me to be more sensual. Lifting my lashes I stare at the men, boldly daring them with my sage eyes to take me from the sands and make me perform a more sinful dance. I thrust my hips towards them, before twirling faster and faster, I breath in the smoke of the fire surrounds me, I want to choke to die from its strong scent but I could not. I danced before men.
As I spun I grew dizzy but it didn’t stop me. I shook my chest to them, teasing the men as they stared upon me. My eyes fogged over with desire to be put to the furs. I looked to the sand and gasped, it stuck to my legs and when rubbed together felt like rough rence paper that would make me raw. I heard cheering in the crowd, it made my cheeks flush darker, and they shouted calling to me, their cries to get their lust satisfied were singing into the night. I twirled, leapt, swayed to the sounds of the thassa, the crackling of the fire, the beating of the dancing drums. I fell to me knees, swaying seductively, my body coated with sweat. A man came near, gripped me, kissed my lips and then cheered as he tossed me to the pit. His tongue had shot into my mouth and I could taste the thick paga, and fried bosk. It was thick and left my lips numb, aflame to the touch of the man.
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