Her master sat there, having been engaged in laughter mere moments before his bowl in his grasp, but when he told her to take the sands, he fell silent. It was he, himself, who told the musicians what to play. It was also he that announced her presence in the pit to the patrons of the establishment. He was proud of his beast; her delectable appearance had, on numerous occasion, caused him to drag her off and toss her against a wall to be used. And her body moved then just as seductive as it did now. A few of the slaves that worked in the Chatka and Curla watched on in awe, jealousy, and humiliation as Doreen gave a magnificent display in her dance.
She moved with such ferocity; such intensity, her heart beating furiously in her chest to the music, kicking and twirling about the sands; grains flying about with each spin. Her silks moved about her thighs, floating effortlessly around her form. The candles and lantern gleam off of her bangles as she moved. She fell to her knees, throwing her head back in a round about circle, before crying out "La Kajira," as she fell into obeisance. His slave. No. His love slave on display in the grains of the pit, and she had never felt more proud.
In tribute to the primary star of the book, "Dancer of Gor," we named this little ensemble after Doreen. A gold trimmed vest designed to accentuate the upper curves, and a gold trimmed belted skirt made to sit well on the hips, this piece by *FS* Fashions comes in seven lovely colors.