~Service in the Books~
"You may serve me wine, " I said.
She reached to the wine, a sweet Ka-la-na or Ar, and filled the goblet to the third ring.
Then, as I sat back against the couch, she knelt before me. She, head down,
pressed the heavy metal goblet deep into her lower abdomen, and then she
lifted it to her lips and, holding it with both hands, kissed it
lingeringly and lovingly. Then, kneeling back on her heels she put down her
head and, humbly, her arms extended, her head down between them, proffered me
the goblet. "Wine, Master? " she asked.
"Yes, " I said. I then took the goblet from her, and drank.
She lifted her head, and watched me.
"I think you know how to serve wine well, " I said."
~Guardsman of Gor, page 301, 302~
"Slowly, alone, a paga slave, naked and collared, she
approached my table.
She knelt there, before me.
"Press the cup to your belly,” I told her.
She did so. She then held it there, in both hands.
"Paga, Master?" she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"Kiss the cup," I told her.
She lifted the metal cup from her belly and, turning her head to the side, pressed her lips against it. She then kissed it.
She then, her knees wide, her arms extended to me, her head down, between her arms, proffered the paga to me.
"Your paga, Master," she whispered."
~Explorers of Gor, page 172~
"Now take the goblet, " he said, " and hold the metal against your body, pushing inward. "I took the goblet and held it,
tightly, to my body. I held the round, heavy metal against me, below my brassiere. "Lower," he said, "against your belly." I then held the goblet
lower. "Press it more inward, " he said. I did so. I can still feel the cold metal against me, firmly, partly against the silk of my undergarment, partly
against my belly. "Now," said he, "lift the goblet to your lips and kiss it lingeringly, then proffer it to me, arms extended, head down."
~Fighting Slave of Gor, page 19~
"Again she put down her head, and offered the goblet.
“Wine, Master,” she said.
“You understand this, do you not?” asked Cabot.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“You offer me your wine,” said Cabot.
“Yes, Master,” she said. “But reject my wine, as I know you will. Do not play longer with me. I have suffered enough. I know now you despise me. You
have not touched me. I know I am only an ignorant Earth-girl, who finds herself unaccountably in a man’s collar. I cannot dance. I do not know the kisses. I
cannot compete with the Corinnas of the camp. I am not Gorean. I am only an ignorant Earth girl.”
“You might try to interest me,” said Cabot.
“Please do not mock me,” she said.
“Kiss the goblet,” said Cabot, kindly. “Lingeringly. And regard me while you do so. Now lift your head and touch the goblet, lightly, to your collar, so that you hear the sound.”
“Please do not make me do these things!” she said. “You do not know what it is doing to me, how it makes me feel!”
“You have lovely breasts,” said Cabot. “Now touch the goblet lightly to each of them, first the left, then the right. Make certain you clearly feel the touch, pressing it in a bit.”“
" Master!” she protested.
“Now lower the goblet to your belly,” he said, “and, while first looking at me, and then, secondly, down to the goblet, press the rim into your belly, firmly.”
Tears coursed down her cheeks.
“You may now,” he said, “offer me wine.”
She then put her head down, again, between her extended arms, the goblet grasped with both hands.
“Wine, Master?” she said.
Cabot did not respond, and the slave kept her head down.
“I offer you my wine, Master,” she said. “Please accept my wine, Master. Please, Master, accept my wine!”
She gasped as Cabot, gently, took the goblet from her hands. She looked up at him, lips trembling, tears in her eyes. He took a tiny sip of the
drink, and then handed the goblet to a fellow next to him, who seized it gratefully, groggily, drunkenly.
“You stupid girl,” called Corinna to her, laughing, from across the fire. “Hurry to his blankets!”
The slave sped into the darkness.
Cabot rose, and went to his blankets, where the slave, in the darkness, was waiting for him. He took the slave in his arms."~Kur of Gor~
Following is a Quote from Explorers of Gor, page 158 - 161...
“I would like to see further evidence of your skills,” I said. “I am out of paga,” I said.
She reached to the bottle, to refill the cup.
“No,” I said
She looked at me.
“Did they not teach you how to serve paga as a paga slave?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said
“Show me,” I said.
“Very well,” she said. She drew back, taking the bottle and cup. In most taverns no bottle is brought to the table but the paga is brought to the table, by the paga slave, a cup at a time, the cups normally being filled from a vat behind the counter. She filled the cup there, before me, and left it behind. She returned the bottle then to the table, and went back again for the cup. She lifted it in both hands.
“Put it down,” I said.
She did so, looking at me puzzled.
“You are garbed strangely for a paga slave,” I said, indicating the clogs, theblack slacks and the black, buttoned top.
“Do you wish me to put on pleasure silk?” she asked, icily.
“No,” I said.
She tossed her head.
“In many Gorean taverns,” I said, “the paga slaves serve naked.”
“Yes,” she said, slowly, “they do.”
“Did they not teach you how to do that?” I asked.
"Yes,” she said.
“I would see evidence of your skills,” I said.
"Very well," she said, angrily, in her vanity, taunted.
""Serve us paga, Slave, " said Msaliti...................................
"Yes, Master," she said.
“Paga, Master?” she asked, kneeling before me, the metal cup held before her, in her two hands.
“Yes,” I said.
She proffered the cup to me. She knelt back on her heels, her knees wide, and extended her arms to me, the cup in her hands.
“Did you not neglect to kiss it?” I asked her.
She drew back the cup and, pressing her lips to it, kissed it.
“Is that how a slave kisses the cup of a master?” I asked.
She again turned her head to the side and pressed her lips softly, lingeringly, against it. Then she kissed it. I saw a tremor course through her
body. I think, then, for the first time, she had begun to understand what it might be truly, to kiss the cup of a master. Then again, kneeling back on her
heels, her knees wide, extending her arms to me, the cup in her hands, she proffered me the drink.
“Your head should be down, between your arms,” I said.
She put her head down. Again I saw a small movement in her body, a tremor, subtle. She had put her head down before a man. Another consequence of
this position is that the girl’s eyes, in the specific act of her serving, do not meet those of the master. They are lowered before his, as one who submits.
This is also reminiscent, in an experienced girl, of her training. Often, in training, a girl is not permitted to look into the eyes of the trainer, unless
he should specifically extend this permission. Indeed, in some cities, the girl in training may not raise her eyes above the trainer’s belt, unless,
again, specifically accorded this permission.
“Speak,” I said to her
“Your paga, Master,” she said.
But I did not take the paga. “Do you know other phrases?” I asked. There were many, actually, and they tended to vary from tavern to tavern, and from city to city. There was, really, no standardization in such matters.
She trembled, head down, proffering me the paga.
“Your girl brings you drink, Master,” she said.
“Any others?” I asked.
“Here is your drink, Master,” she said. “I beg to serve you further in any way I may.”
“Another,” I said.
“Do not forget I come with the price of the cup,” she said. “Use me as you will, Master.”
“Another,” I said sharply.
“For your pleasure,” she said, “I bring you paga and a slave.”
“Personalized phrase,” I said.
“E.,” she said.
“Evelyn,” I corrected her.
“Evelyn tenders drink humbly to Master,” she said. “Evelyn hopes Master will later find her suitable to give him pleasure.”
“Another,” I said.
“I am Evelyn,” she said. “I serve you, naked and collared. Take me later to the alcove. I beg to be taught my slavery.”
I then took the paga. “You may now serve others,” I said to her.
"You made her serve well, " said Shaba.
"Thank you," I said.