“The eyes of a Master will do more work than both his hands!” – Author Unknown
Ohhh, how true those words are! As a Gorean slave girl, I’ve felt the truth of this quote ripple through every part of me. Yes, my Masters' hands absolutely leave their mark. Sometimes in the form of firm correction, sometimes as a possessive grip around my throat or waist, and often in soft, caressing moments that remind me I am Theirs. Physical discipline certainly plays its role. It reinforces the structure we’ve agreed upon and reminds me to remain the best version of the slave I’ve sworn to be. But Their eyes? Those do something else entirely.
One look from Their can undo me.
They don't even have to speak. Sometimes, They don’t even need to touch. A single glance can whisper volumes, no, it commands volumes. When Their eyes land on me across the room, or while I kneel with bowed head and feel the weight of Their gaze on my skin, it is like time stops. My breath catches. My heart flutters. My thighs clench. I know I am seen. Not just looked at, but truly seen, as property, as Their slut, as Their slave They own down to her soul.
Their eyes can say, “You are Mine.”
They can burn with desire and make me feel like the most delicious creature in the world. That kind of look melts every bit of willful disobedience right out of me. But they can also narrow with warning, and in that split second, my whole posture shifts, back straight, chin down, mouth shut. I don't even need to be told. Their eyes say it all, “You’re pushing it, slut, and there will be consequences.” And oh, how that thrills and humbles me.
Sometimes, even when I’m not looking directly at Them, I can feel it, that stare. That unspoken energy that dances on my flesh like a kiss and a leash all at once. I know when I’ve pleased Them. I know when I’ve fallen short. It is written in the fire or the frost behind those eyes.
Their eyes hold authority, desire, disappointment, pride, pleasure, all without a word. And when They look at me with approval? Gods, I glow. I radiate joy and purpose and pride. All because I saw it, just that look. That beautiful, wordless, powerful look that tells me I’m being a good girl.
So yes, my Masters' hands do wonders. But Their eyes? They command, they correct, they caress. They own.
And this girl wouldn’t have it any other way.