Violetta Daviau

A blogging roleplayer in Second Life

Moondances and sexuality

DISCLAIMER: The RP Guides are free to share! I just demand that my Name (Violetta Daviau) keeps in the NCs / Copies and is being mentioned as creator. The classes and guides are to not being altered.

Moondances

Book Quotes:

As we continued our journey, we could see the bright moons above.
The girls seemed restless, short-tempered, irritable. I saw more than one looking at the moons.
“Verna,” said one of them.
“Quiet,” said Verna.
The file continued its journey through the trees and brush, threading its way through the darkness and branches.
“We have seen men,” said one of the girls, insistently.
“Be silent,” said Verna.
“We should have taken slaves,” said another, irritably.
“No,” said Verna.
“The circle,” said another. “We must go to the circle!”
Verna stopped and turned.
“It is on our way,” said another.
“Please, Verna,” said another, her voice pleading.
Verna regarded the girls. “Very well,” she said, “we shall stop at the circle.”
The girls relaxed visibly.
~ Captive of Gor, pages 127-128

The girls of Verna’s band stood about the edge of the circle. They did not speak. They were breathing deeply. They seemed restless. Several had their eyes closed, their fists clenched. Their weapons had been discarded.
~ Captive of Gor, page 131

“I saw two of the girls looking up at the moons. Their lips were parted, their fists clenched. There seemed to be pain in their eyes.
…..
It was no accident that we had stopped at this place.
One of the girls whimpered.
‘Al right’, said Verna, ‘go to the circle.’
The girl turned and sped across the carpeting of leaves.
…..
One by one, with her eyes, Verna released the girls, and each ran lightly, eagerly, through the trees.
…..
The girls of Verna’s band stood about the edge of the circle. They did not speak. They were breathing deeply. They seemed restless. Several had their eyes closed, their fists clenched. Their weapons had been discarded.
…..
The first girl to leap to the center of the circle was she who had first held my leash.
She had blond hair. Her head was don, and shaking. Then she threw back her head, moaning, and reached up, clawing for the moons of Gor. The other girls too, responded to her, whimpering and moaning, clenching and unclenching their fists.
The first girl began to writhe, crying out, stamping in the circle.
Then another girl joined her, and another, and another. And then another!
Stamping, turning, crying out, moaning, clawing at the moons, they danced.
Then there were none who had not entered that savage circle, save Verna, the band’s leader, proud and superb, armed and disdainful, and Elinor Brinton, a bound slave.
The first girl, throwing back her head to the moons, screamed and tore her skins to the waist, writhing.
Then, for the first time I noticed, in the center of the circle, there were four heavy stakes, about six inches in height, dark in the grass. They formed a small, but ample, square. I shuddered. They were notched, that binding fiber might not slip from them.
The first girl began to dance before the square.
I looked up into the sky. In the dark sky the moons were vast and bright.
Another girl, crying out, tore her own skins to the waist and clawing, moaning, writhing, approached the square. Then another, and another!
I did not even look upon Verna, so horrified I was at the barbaric spectacle. I had not believed that women could be like this.
And then the first girl tore away her skins and danced in her golden ornaments beneath the huge, wild moons, on the grass of the circle, before the square.
I could not believe my eyes. I shuddered, fearing such women.
Then suddenly, to my amazement, Verna cried out in anguish, a wild, moaning, anguished cry, and threw from herself her weapons and tore away her own skins and leaped into the circle, turning and clawing and crying out like the others. She was not other than they, but first among them! She danced savagely, clad only in her gold and beauty, beneath the moons. She cried out and clawed. Sometimes she bit at another girl or struck at her, if she dared approach the square more closely than she, writhing, enraged, but fearful, eyes blazing, dancing, they fell back from her.
She danced first among them, their leader.
Then, throwing her head back, she screamed, shaking her clenched fists at the moons.
And then, helplessly, she threw herself to the grass within the square, striking at it, biting and tearing at it, and then she threw herself on her back and, fists clenched, writhed beneath the moons.
One by one the other girls, too, violently, threw themselves to the grass, rolling upon it, and moaning, some even within the precincts of the square, then throwing themselves upon their backs, some with their eyes closed, crying out, others with their eyes open, fixed helplessly on the wild moons, some with hands tearing at the grass, others pounding the earth piteously with their small fists, sobbing and whimpering, their bodies uncontrolled, helpless, writhing, under the moons of Gor.
I found myself pulling at my bonds, suddenly aching with an inexplicable loneliness and desire. I pulled at the fiber that bound my wrists, so cruelly back; my throat pressed against the straps on my throat, almost choking me; my belly writhed under its strap; my ankles moved again one another, helpless in the leather confinement of the knotted strap. I looked up at the moons. I cried out in anguish. I wanted to be free, to dance, to cry out, to claw the moons, to throw myself on the living, fibrous, flowing grass, to writhe with these women, my sisters, to writhe with them in the frenzy of their need.
…..
At last the girls, one by one, rose from the grass, drew on again their skins, and took up their weapons.
Then, Verna at their lead, they approached me.
I knelt by the post, very straight.
‘It seemed to me’, I said, ‘that your bodies moved as might have those of slave girls.’
My head leaped to the side, stinging, as Verna, with all her might, slapped me.
Then she looked at me. ‘We are women’, she said.”
~ Captive of Gor, pp. 130-135

The moons fled across the black sky, burning with its bright stars. The girls lay now quietly on the grass, some still whimpering slightly, many with their eyes closed, some lying on their stomachs, their face pressed against the grass, the stain of tears on their cheek, mingling into the grass.
~ Captive of Gor, page 134

I remembered the panther girls, dancing under the moons of Gor, and how they had writhed helplessly beneath those wild moons.
~ Captive of Gor, page 188

I recalled Verna, and the panther girls, dancing in the circle. I recalled them, when they could no longer restrain themselves, throwing themselves to the grass, writhing in their helpless need, even the proud, arrogant Verna!
~ Captive of Gor, page 202

I recalled the circle of the dance in the northern forest, and how even Verna, the proud Verna, had, beside herself with need, writhed helplessly beneath the bright moons of Gor, a female.
~ Captive of Gor, page 320

“The girls now knelt about me, in a circle. They were silent. I looked up at the large, white, swift moons. There were three of them, a larger, and two smaller, looming, dominating.
The girls were breathing heavily. They had set aside their weapons.
They knelt, their hands on their thighs, occasionally lifting their eyes to the moons. Their eyes began to blaze. They put back their heads. Their lips parted. Their hair fell behind their heads, their faces lifted to the rays of the moons. Then, together, they began to moan and sway from side to side. Then they lifted their arms and hands to the moons, still swaying from side to side, moaning. I pulled at the thongs that bound me. Then their moaning became more intense and the swaying swifter and more savage, and, crying out and whimpering, they began to claw at the moons.
Mira leaped to her feet and tore her skins to the waist exposing her breasts to the wild light of the flooding moons. She shrieked and tore at the moons with her fingernails. In an instant another girl, and then another, and another, had followed her example. Only Verna still knelt, her hands on her thighs, looking at the moons. Beneath the moons, helplessly, I sought to free myself. I could not do so.
Mira now, the others following, crying out, tore away the scraps of panther skin that had yet concealed their beauty. They now wore only their gold, and their ornaments. Now, moaning, crying out, the she-beasts of the forest, the panther girls, hands lifted, clawing, began to stamp and dance beneath the fierce brightness of the wild moons.
Then suddenly they stopped, but stood, still, their hands lifted to the moons.
Verna threw back her head, her fists clenched on her thighs, and cried out, a wild scream, as though in agony. She leaped to her feet and, looking at me, tore away her skins.
My blood leaped before her beauty.
But she had turned away and naked, her head back, had lifted her hands, too, clawing at the moons.
Then all of them, together, turned slowly to face me. They were breathing heavily. Their hair was disheveled, their eyes wild.
I lay before them, helpless.
Suddenly, as one, they seized up their light spears, and, swaying, spears lifted, began to circle me.
They were incredibly beautiful.
A spear darted toward me, but did not strike me. It was withdrawn.
It could have killed me, of course, had its owner wished. But it had spared me.
Then, about me, the panther girls, circling, swaying, began a slow stalking dance, as of hunters.
I lay in the center of the circle.
Their movements were slow, and incredibly beautiful. Then suddenly one would cry out and thrust at me with her spear. But the spear was not thrust into my body. Its point would stop before it had administered its wound. Many of the blows would have been mortal. But many thrusts were only to my eyes, or arms or legs. Every bit of me began to feel exposed, threatened.
I was their catch.
Then the dance became progressively swifter and wilder, and the feigned blows became more frequent, and then, suddenly, with a wild cry, the swirling throng about me stood for an instant stock still, and then with a cry, each spear thrust down savagely toward my heart.
I cried out.
None of the spears had struck me.
The girls cast aside the spears. Then, like feeding she-panthers they knelt about me, each one, with her hands and tongue, touching and kissing me.
I cried out with anguish.
I knew I could not long resist them.
Verna lifted her head. She laughed, ‘You are going to be raped’, she said.”
~ Hunters of Gor, pp. 137-138

“There was a long silence, of some Ihn, and then, at a nod from Hura, who threw her long black hair back, and lifted her head to the moons, the drum began again its beat. Mira’s head was down, and shaking. Her right foot was stamping. The panther girls put down their heads. I saw their fists begin to clench and unclench. They stood, scarcely moving, but I could sense the movement of the drum in their blood.
The men of Tyros glanced to one another. It was few free men who had ever looked, unbound, on the rites of panther girls.
Hura’s eyes were on the moons. She lifted her hands, fingers like claws, and screamed her need.
The girls then, following her, began to dance.
…..
I looked down to the circle.
It might have been a rite not of women, but of she-panthers! How starved must be the lonely, hating panther women of the forests, so gross is their hostility, so fierce their hatred, and yet need, of men. They twisted, screaming now, clawing at the moons. I would scarcely have guessed at the primitive hungers evident in each movement of those barbaric, feline bodies.
…..
The drum was now very heady, swift. The dance of the panther girls became more wild, more frenzied. Vicious, sinuous, clawing, lithe, these savage beauties, in their skins and gold, with their knives, their light spears, weapons darting, danced. They were terrible and beautiful, in the streaming, flooding light of the looming, primitive moons, their eyes blazing. The hair of all was unbound. Several had already, oblivious of the presence of the men of Tyros, torn away their skins to the waist, others completely. On some I could hear the movement of the necklaces of sleen teeth tied about their necks, the shivering and ringing of slender golden bangles on their tanned ankles. In their dance they danced among the staked-out bodies of the men of Marlenus, and about the great Ubar himself. Their weapons leapt at the bound men, but never did the blows fall.
…..
The dance would soon strike its climax. It could continue little longer. The women would go mad with their need to strike and rape.
Suddenly the drum stopped and Hura stopped, her body bent backward, her head back, her long black hair falling to the back of her knees.
She was breathing deeply, very deeply. Her body was covered with a sheen of sweat.
The girls not put down their weapons and crowded about the bound figure of Marlenus, looking at him, inching closer, breathing heavily, not speaking.”
~ Hunters of Gor

Summary

Moondances are an institution amongst panther women bands. They stand for their sexuality, the release of their female needs. Panther women go to their moondance circles if or if not they have male captives/slaves, and release their needs in wild, frenzy, one could maybe say engrossed, dances, also usually apperently, as a group. If they have male captives/slaves, those will be restrained there and sexually used to the liking of these women.

Advise for SL Roleplay

In SL Gor sexual play is a very central topic. Nevertheless most players cannot abstain from their earthen player morals. The difference between earth though and panther woman moondances is that the moondances are “public within the community”, even a shared event amongst the community. There is no private cuddling of “lovely captives”, it is a savage, raw ritual in which a band of female outlaws, naked under the three moons of Gor use a restrained male captive – in Gor terms rape him and use him to their liking, which in itself is a very degrading act for him.
For roleplay I advise to bring a lot of (RL) time: depending on the size of the band, the typing style of the players (in sexual roleplay players tend to type far longer emotes), and the number of actual participants, such events can last between 4 and 6 hours. Plan the event best beforehand and seek a volunteer victim for it. The reason for this is that it is sad if the victim has to log in the middle of the action, and if most members have to leave half an hour into the event you can be sure that it went nowhere yet. Make sure that you have a bunch of members that are not opposed to play their sexuality, the use of the victim publicly within the band, but do not deny any to participate (including kajirae of the band). While the key is the more use the victim the merrier, having an audience that dances in their frenzy around the central rape scene is needed too.
Do coordinate with the victim beforehand that he of course will survive. It is not written in the books that the victims get killed during or after the process. Such behavior belongs to the realm of Amazons, not to Gor. On Gor they are sold to slavers after.

Sexuality

Book Quotes:

WORK IN PROGRESS

Summary

WORK IN PROGRESS

Advise for SL Roleplay

WORK IN PROGRESS