Raiders of Gor by John Norman

down on mine and,
    to my horror, my lips met hers, but could not withstand them and I felt her head
    forcing mine down and I felt her feeth cut into my lips and I tastes blood, my
    own, in my mouth, and then, insolently, her tongue thrust into my mouth,
    possessively, forcing mine, as it would, from its path, and then, after some
    Ehn, withdrawing her tongue, she bit me, as I cried out in pain, diagonally
    across the mouth and lips, that, on the morrow, when I stood at stake in
    festival, the marks of my mistress’s teeth, evidence of her conquest of me,
    would be visible in my body.
    I was shattered.
    I had been given the kiss of the Mistress to the male slave.
    “You will move as I direct,” she said.
    In the darkness, shattered, bound, mouth swollen, I heard her in horror.
    Then she mounted me, and used me for her pleasure.
    5       Festival
    “I think I shall win you,” said a lithe, dark-haired girl, holding my chin and
    pushing up my head, that she might better see my face. She was dark-eyed, and
    slender, and vital. Her legs were marvelous, accentuated by the incredibly brief
    tunic of the rence girl.
    “I shall win him,” said another girl, a tall, blond girl, gray-eyed, who carried
    a coil of marsh vine in her right hand.
    Another girl, dark-haired, carrying a folded net over her left shoulder, said,
    “No, he will be mine.”
    “No, mine!” said yet another.
    “Mine!” cried yet another, and another.
    They gathered about me, examining me, walking about me, regarding me as one
    might an animal, or slave.
    “Teeth,” said the first girl, the lithe, dark-haired girl.
    I opened my mouth that she might examine my teeth. Others looked as well.
    Then she felt of my muscles, and thighs, and slapped my side two or three times.
    “Sturdy,” said one of the girls.
    “But much used,” said another.
    She laughed, with others. They referred to my mouth. On the right side it was
    black, and cut, and swollen. Diagonally it wore the marks of the teeth of
    Telima.
    “Yes,” said the first girl, laughing, “much used.”
    “But good for all that!” laughed another.
    “Yes,” said the first girl, “good for all that.” She stepped back and regarded
    me. “Yes,” she said to the others, “all things considered, this is a good slave,
    a quite good slave.”
    They laughed.
    Then the lithe girl stepped close to me.
    I stood with an oar pole at my back, bound to it for their inspection. The pole,
    thrust deep in the rence of the island, stood in a clearing near the shore of
    the island. My wrists were bound behind the pole with marsh vine. My ankles were
    also fastened to the pole. Two other coils of marsh vine bound my stomach and
    neck to the pole. On my head my Mistress, Telima, had placed a woven garland of
    rence flowers.
    The lithe, dark-haired girl, standing close to me, traced a pattern on my left
    shoulder, idly. It was the first letter of the Gorean expression for slave.
    She looked up at me. “Would you like to be my slave?” she asked. “Would you like
    to serve me?”
    I said nothing.
    “I might even be kind to you,” said the girl.
    I looked away.
    She laughed.
    Then the other girls, too, came close to me, each to taunt me, with whether or
    not I would not rather serve them.
    “Clear away there,” called a man’s voice. It was Ho-Hak.
    “It is time for contests,” called another voice, which I recognized as that of
    Telima, my mistress. She wore the golden armlet, and the purple fillet tying
    back her hair. She wore the brief tunic of the rence girl. She was exceedingly
    well pleased with herself today, and was stunning in her beauty. She walked,
    head back, as though she might own the earth. In her had she carried a throwing
    stick.
    “Come, come away,” said Ho-Hak, gesturing for the girls to go down to the shore
    of the rence island.
    I wanted Ho-Hak to look at me, to meet my eyes. I respected him, I wanted him to
    look upon me, to seign to recognize that I might exist.
    But he