Bathing a Master

"Master?" she asked. "I have come to serve you." she said.
I did not respond to her, but observed her. She stood timidly, blindfolded near the door. She wore a tiny, diaphanous bit of brown silk about her body. It was high on her thighs. It was off her right shoulder and held loosely on her by a casually knotted, narrow disrobing loop, fastened over her left shoulder. A single tug would open the garment, dropping it to her ankles. She carried, folded, several large, colored soft towels, with two sponges and oils for the bath. On the towels too were certain other articles. Among them was, opened, the rounded steel loop she had worn about her neck earlier. It, with its key lay on the top towel. I had been removed from her for she was to assist me in the bath. It accompanied her, that it might be again, when she had bathed me, replaced on her. Similarly the steel loops from her wrists and ankles had been removed. They, however, had been kept elsewhere. They did not accompany her. On the towels, however, coiled, there was a whip and slave cuffs and anklets, of leather with snaps. too, it might be mentioned, there were as is usual, chains at the foot of the great couch, which might be lengthened or shortened. One chain terminated in a collar, which might be locked about a girl's neck. The other chain terminated in the smaller loop of steel, an ankle ring, suitable for a girl's ankle.
I regarded her.
Her hair was still coiffured high upon her head, and held as before, with the braided yellow cord, stout enough to bind her. She was barefoot as is common with slaves.
"Master?" she asked. "Are you in the room?" I moved, that she might know my presence.
"Forgive me Master," she said, "if I have awakened you or disturbed you."
I pulled away the mask I wore and discarded it to one side of the great couch.
I snapped my fingers.
"Yes Master," she said. She approached the sound and knelt before me.
"I am Beverly," she said. "I have been sent to serve you."
I did not speak.
"It is a great honor for me, Master," she said, "that one such as you should select Beverly to serve you."
I did not respond to her.
"The water will have been readied," she said. Near the couch was a large, round, sunken tub, with some six inches of water in it. Too, to one side there were rising jars.
She put the objects she carried on the floor to her right.
"Here Master," she said, feeling for it, "is a salve collar. You may place it on me when you wish." She put it with the key at my feet. "Here too," she said, putting the objects near the collar, "are slave cuffs and anklets." I regarded the objects, with their tiny belts and buckles, with their attached, sewn in metal snap rings. "And here, Master," she said, "is your whip." She kissed it and put it too at my feet.
"Beverly is now ready to serve her Master," she said.
I again snapped my fingers and the girl stood.
She stood lovely and straight, her hands now empty, the towels and oils and other articles on the floor near me.
"Am I to bathe you now, Master?" she asked.(...)
I jerked loose the disrobing loop at her left shoulder. Beverly Henderson was stripped before me.
I walked around behind her. She lifted her chin. She trembled slightly. She was extremely aware of my presence. I bent forward, slightly. She had been subtly perfumed. She shuddered. She had felt my breath at the left side of her neck, and on her left shoulder.
I then walked about her and stood before her.
"Yes, master," she said. She reached out and gently first touching my chest, her hands lingering there for a moment, found the knot in the belt of soft cloth with which I had closed the casual tunic I had donned. She undid the knot and parted the tunic, kissing me at the belly. She then went behind me and gently removed the tunic, kissing me beneath the left shoulder blade. She then stood again before me. She folded the tunic and belt, kissing them, and then knelt down placing them to the side. She then stood again before me her head down.
I smiled. The girl had been taught how to disrobe a Master for his bath.
I then placed the articles for the bath in her hands, and conducted her to the side of the tub. She placed the articles where she might find them. She then took a vial of oil and one of the sponges in her hands. I then helped her step within the tub.
I looked at her.
She stood in the water, blindfolded, waiting for me. Miss Beverly Henderson, once a proud girl of Earth, now only a Gorean slave girl, waited to bathe a free male, one whom she must address as Master and serve as he pleased.
I stepped down within the tub.
Then kneeling or standing as was fit, humbly, Miss Beverly Henderson, with the oils and sponges and rinsing waters bathed me.
Then after a few Ehn, she toweled my body dry and then knelt before me head down.
I snapped my fingers, and she stood.
I then looked at her carefully, I sensed the nature of her breathing. I touched my fingers to her side, and noted her sudden involuntary movement. I smiled. The Gorean bath of such a sort has many purposes. The cleaning of the body, of course, is only one such purpose. It has two major purposes with respect to its effect on the girl. The first is that she is performing a lowly and humble task for a man. This helps to remind her that she is a slave. Also of course, serving a man, particularly in small and humble ways, probably for biological reasons, tends to be sexually arousing for a woman. Many men, I think, fail to understand that. When a girl brings a man his sandals and ties them on his feet, she is having a sexual experience. Many men, I think, fail to understand the pervasiveness and radiance, the depth, and contextual richness of female sexuality. It is such a wondrous, deep, and marvelous thing. He who denies a woman her right to serve man, and particularly in such small ways, denies to her a portion of herself; that man is not only a fool, for he is the natural recipient of such attentions, but he is cruel; such a denial too, can make a woman ashamed to seek sexual gratification for such small services, usually unbeknownst to the boorish male, are intimately connected with such gratification; this is one reason, incidentally, that those who secretly fear sexuality and would repudiate it, will be among the first to denounce such homely serves of love. In the case of the slave girl, of course, such services are commanded of her. She must perform them. This tells her then, on some deep level, that it is all right, truly to be a woman. Indeed, she is given no choice but to be a woman. Thusly is her love unqualifiedly liberated. This type of thing, I think, accounts for something of the joy which is experienced by many slave girls, a joy which, otherwise, would seem inexplicable. The second major purpose with respect to the effect on the girl, is that she is touching and in effect in the bathing, caressing a man's body. She is intimately close to the male, even to the extent of sensual tactuality. Being alive and hormonally active, of course, this is arousing to her. And it is particularly arousing to a slave female, for she knows she is fit meat for the lust of men. Does her very condition not tell her that? Too, she herself, though is not touched. This is frustrating to her, naturally, and intensified her desire, usually near the surface in a slave, to be taken in the arms of the Master. He is Master. Second, it is not unpleasant to be washed humbly by a beautiful woman. Third, such service tends to arouse the girl. It is not uncommon, when such a bath has been finished, and he has been toweled by the beauty, that she kneels before him and begs to be raped.
"The bath is finished, Master," said the girl, standing before me.
I jerked loose the yellow cord from her hair. I then, with the cord, tied her wrist behind her back. I thought it well that she should feel herself tied.
"Rogue of Gor" page 199/203