Michael McGregor

“Yes, I have business with the Priest-Kings of Gor.”
― John Norman, Priest-Kings of Gor

“She danced before me for several minutes, her scarlet dancing silks flashing in the firelight, her bare feet, with their belled ankles, striking softly on the carpet. With a last flash of the finger cymbals, she fell to the carpet before me, her breath hot and quick, her eyes blazing with desire. I was at her side, and she was in my arms. Her heart beat wildly against my breast. She looked into my eyes, her lips trembling, the words stumbling but audible. "Call for the iron," she said. "Brand me, Master." "No, Talena," I said, kissing her mouth. "No." "I want to be owned," she whimpered. "I want to belong to you, fully, completely in every way. I want your brand, Tarl of Bristol, don't you understand? I want to be your branded slave." I fumbled with the collar at her throat, unlocked it, threw it aside. "You're free, my love," I whispered. "Always free." She sobbed, shaking her head, her lashes wet with tears. "No," she wept. "I am your slave." She clenched her body against mine, the buckles of the wide tharlarion belt cutting into her belly. "You own me," she whispered. "Use me.”
― John Norman, Tarnsman of Gor

“You are only grateful," I said. "No," she said, "I love you." "You must not," I said. "I do," she said.”
― John Norman, Priest-Kings of Gor

“a slave girl grows bold if her lips are allowed to touch the name of her master.”
― John Norman, Priest-Kings of Gor