Hi,
I have written a scene that would go in a dead-tree science-fantasy published novel from the 1970s and just wonder what people think of it. I've tried to keep close to the author's style from later books in the same series without being outright duplicative.
The changes start from With a jangle of slave bells and a cry of surprise ", the original was 'anguish' instead of 'surprise'. Every line after that is mine.
Never had I seen such eyes, terrible and dark, keen, those of a warrior.
I stood before him, alone with him in his tent, at his mercy, my head down; I felt small and helpless.
Then he took me in his arms. With a jangle of slave bells and a cry of surprise I was forced to the furs.
I had thought he would be quick and brutal, that he would land between my thighs and simply take me. Nothing could have been further from what happened. He would force me to welcome his conquest, his victory. Rask of Treve would force me to admit myself alive, a woman and slave. His slave!
He stared into my eyes from just inches away for an eternal second, my heart pounded so hard it threatened to burst from my chest. He bent down and kissed me, slow, deep, possessive, stealing my breath and owning my soul! His chest was so broad where he pinned me to his furs. He rolled to my side, trapping my arm under his shoulder, using that same arm to hold my other wrist to the furs. Not that it mattered, I would not have dared resist. I whimpered as he began touching me. It was not that his touches were unpleasant. Far from it, instead he chose to tease. He started with my stomach and sides. My nipples were so stiff yet he ignored them to stroke my arm and then my neck to either side of the collar. I groaned, knowing my ordeal had only just begun. After a bit more of this he added my hips and lower belly to the range of his fingers' attentions. His hand brushed up my stomach, then higher still to cup my chest, rolling and squeezing each breast with deliberate motion.
I knew Rask of Treve was capable of terrible cruelty but no action he now undertook caused pain. In a way that was its own cruelty, he would force me to succumb to my own femaleness. His fingers closed about my stiffened nipples, pulling and pinching those sensitive little nubs. I moaned and turned away, terribly frightened by the look of simple delight that had come across his face. My knees spread without being prompted when he began running his hand up and down my thighs, paying particular attention to their soft inner curves. And for now the closest he came to my womanhood was the very outer swell of my hot mound! He was exercising as much control over himself as he did me. I couldn't help lifting my hips, begging for more without words. At last his large hand slid between my thighs. His battle-roughened fingers felt amazing stroking up and down my spread outer lips.
"It's such a wonderful thing, how soft women are."
His thick middle finger passing between the still-closed inner pair was even more incredible, I couldn't help moaning. If my arm was not pinned beneath his shoulder I'm sure I would have tried twisting away, useless as that would have been.
"I've long found opening a virgin, teaching her the reality of being a slave an exquisite pleasure. It frightens her terribly, knowing that she is soft and helpless, that she is going to yield, that it _is_ going to happen. But, performed correctly, it excites her just as much as it scares her. It is well worth investing the small time needed to do it right."
"Yes! Teach me, Master!" I begged.
"Your current lesson is this: There is no shame. Neither in being found pleasing or your body's natural reactions."
"Master?"
"If something feels good let it, do not resist out of the misguided beleif that you should or even must." His finger drew up through that moist crease then circled around the pulsing trigger where they met.
"Yes, Master."
Stretching across my body he grasped my other wrist from where he still held it pinned and drew my hand down to the soft hillock found between my thighs. "Touch yourself, feel how you juice, your readiness to surrender."
I wept. I could hardly believe how swollen those soft lips had become, the slickness between, how the button at their apex throbbed! He continued guiding my fingers, pressing one slim digit into that moist trench, forcing me to trace across the delicate tissue that evidenced my virgin condition. I moaned realizing my helplessness, that there was nothing I could do to prevent Rask of Treve's opening me for his pleasure; But even more, I moaned realizing I no longer truly wish to prevent his opening me for his pleasure.
"Something you should know, just because we are doing this for my pleasure does not mean it must necessarily be painful for you. If the time ever comes where I deliberately seek to inflict pain that will be for punishment and you will know exactly how you have earned such treatment. Tonight is nothing of the sort. Your pleasure is mine just as much as the rest of you."
Arousal swept through me like a boiling wave, blood rising at my cheeks then flowing down my neck and across my chest, my nipples stood at stiff attention. I gasped, "Ah, ah!"
And then he drew my hand away, "That's enough." I felt my cheeks pink yet again when he brushed my dampened fingers just under my nose, filling my nostrils with the overpowering scent of my excitement.
He sat back then pulled me around so that we stared at each other the length of my body; He gripped my ankles, holding them spread shoulder-wide. I kept twitching my arms as though meaning to cover myself, then forcing my hands back to the furs. I did not wish Rask of Treve any more unhappy with me than might already be the case. His look as he held my ankles, sweeping his gaze slowly up my naked body, was so hungry I wished I could move, hide, anything to escape. Getting my first good look at the seemingly huge spear that would, I knew, in short moments tear through my virginity, pointing right at me, did nothing to help me relax. He tugged me closer, forcing my thighs wide around his hips. His hands moved to my waist, holding me in place. I rocked beneath him, it did not help. I was too aroused!
"Please, Master," I whined, not at all certain myself what I was begging for.
I whimpered as he stretched forward, covering me with his body. I was trapped, he would have me. I was already a slave, collared and branded, but now I knew he would make me slave in my heart. I moaned again when his hips rocked, stroking the underside of his length against the soaked central crease of my womanhood. All that would be in me? It couldn't possibly fit! It wasn't just the length that concerned me. but its thickness as well. He felt huge.
"Beg, little slave," Rask of Treve hoarsely whispered. "Beg to be opened for my pleasure."
The thought of disobedience never crossed my mind, "Please, Master, take pleasure in opening your slave! Take pleasure in using me!"
His hips withdrew a few inches, the tip of his hard manhood pressed between my soft inner lips, poised to take me, sweeping aside whatever feeble resistance my virginity might present, and paused. My anticipation built, my focus turned inward to where my flesh would soon surrender, welcoming its defeat in his victory. His head came down, lips covering mine, his tongue forced its way between first my lips then my teeth. Rask of Treve, my Master, thrust, tearing through that previously never-passed portal; He owned even my short involuntary cry, swallowing it with his kiss. I closed my eyes and moaned as he pressed deeper, then deeper still, forcing me to acknowledge every inch of his conquering manhood claiming my hot slick soft womanhood. It was instant and yet took far too long, I had been opened. I was his! His!
"Ahh, Master!" I moaned. I gasped in surprise when he flexed inside me and my stretched interior, in shameful reflex, clamped down tight around him. "Ohhh!"
"Lift your legs, wrap them about me," he ordered me. "You are not some dead fish just laying there."
I did so, my feet just touching behind him, and my submission multiplied a thousandfold. He wasn't satisfied with just vanquishing me, he would force me to conquer myself! I would have flung my arms about his neck or shoulders but he held my wrists pinned to the furs.
He very slowly pulled all but free, my passage clinging as if reluctant to release him. He paused there just between my lips, making me once more anticipate his entry,then filled me again. Then again, and again, and again. Each cycle was a little faster, and each time he withdrew he touched me in whatever way caused me to reflexively squeeze around him. I've no idea how long it continued but it seemed to last a very long ttime. His strokes had started out measured and controlled but eventually became much more forceful, driving into me with his thighs' full strength. I moaned and arched beneath him, knowing this was leading somewhere. Somewhere much greater than the pathetic orgasms I had guiltily wrought while still on Earth those occasional times I had broken down into wicked self-pleasure. He thickened within me, becoming even harder, stretching me ever more. I had thought I had been taken when he first opened me; I was wrong. It was only now, near the end, that I was truly claimed with the might and determination of a Gorean Master.
I was only barely concious when his end finally came. There was one final violent thrust, joining our bodies as completely as possible, and then his hot spend cast into my helplessly waiting depths. The 'only barely' changed to 'not at all' for some hopefully short time. I now knew, or at least thought I did, what it meant to be taken and used. Already I looked forward to a repeat occurance.
Rask of Treve rolled off to my side and gathered me against his still-heaving chest. I could actually hear his heart calm as he relaxed. "And so you learn the truth of the greatest lie you have ever told, that sex is something terrible to be avoided."
I didn't think it a good idea to venture the difference between 'lie' and 'misinformed'.
"Tell me what you were just thinking."
'How can he possibly know that?' I thought in panic, but dared not disemble. "Master, I was thinking that it would be unwise to mention the difference between lying and being misinformed."
"You verge on being too clever for your own good." His hand came down on my rear, just hard enough to sting without causing any actual pain.