Truth In The Light - a Gorean dance (by Meadow)

This dance is performed to the song In The Shadow, In The Light by Enigma


Meadow Theas spins onto the sands, strong legs lifting muscled curves of buttock under the slither of flame-colored silks. Firelight catches on chains of gold. Skin pale as dawn glimmers in and out of the midnight swirl around her.

Meadow speaks, voice clear as music over the tap of the kaska, the soft full tones of the double flute. "What is a kajira? It is not my body that gives my submission value. Not the achingly sweet curve of my hips, not the luscious offering of breasts like ripe larma for the nourishment of pleasure. It is not the turn of my wrists, the arch of my feet, the silken fall of my hair. These are not the things that can meet the fire of a true Man."

Meadow laughs, eyes like lakes in the black fringe of the trees, deep blue water full of life. Bells and chains chime as she dips and turns, balanced in the bright air like a tanager by the clap and lift of wings.

"It is not my service that gives my submission value. Not the skill of my hands to make a home, not the strength of my back to tend the bosk and the verr. It is not my grace in the tavern, not my talent in the furs, not even my obedience. A tharlarion can obey."

Meadow slides to the dance sands, then rises like a flame, heat of passion pulling her up, music like air feeding the blaze of life. She loves the soft caress of the cloud around her, the brush of silks, the anchor tightness of belt and top.

"It is not even my slave heart that brings my submission value. Not the heart that loves to yield to the strength of a trusted Master, not the joy in obedience. These things are not enough for true submission. "

Meadow’s laughter echoes the bells on her high-arched feet, dances with the rhythm of the kaska. She twirls on the sand, a gust of flame-clad wind and smoke, straightens into the firelit air with a stretch of belly and ribs, heart open to the life in the music, in the dance, in the watching hearts who answer her.

"What is a kajira but a woman? A woman, energy of life part of all that is, a precious being holding the soft fire of the Priest-Kings in a shell of skin."

"This is a Mystery. It is the luminous power of a woman that gives her submission value. Life part of the life of all things, power to choose and act, strength to love truly, wisdom to guide herself and others, knowledge of herself as part of the Divine. What true Man could settle for less?"

Meadow shimmers across the sands, wind and smoke and fire and the trail of laughter, flash of sky and water in her eyes. She meets the gaze of the watchers, loving the spark of connection.

"I am fire and wind, earth and water and the breath of spirit. Match me and I will be Yours forever, deeply given, in the shadow and the light, living the Divine in the freedom of Your collar. Ask Yourself for less and my submission is impossible."

Meadow drops into nadu, dawn skin sheened with sweat, black hair settling around heaving breasts and clinging to sticky shoulders.

Meadow’s clear voice joins the double flute, laughing, breathless from the dance. "la kajira!" #