Here are relevant references from the Books where the Bosom is mentioned.
I make no pronouncements on these matters, but report them as I find them.
Arrive at your own conclusions.
I wish you well,
Had that heart hidden in those cold, glistening robes of unfeeling gold at last relented, shown itself to be susceptible of compassion? Or had the call of justice at last triumphed in her bosom, that my innocence might be acknowledged, my cause vindicated, that I might now be sped honorably on my way from gray Tharna?
Her dress of green velvet, trimmed in gold, she still wore; it was torn back from the collar, as the Forkbeard had done in Scagnar, revealing the whiteness of her throat, hinting at the delights of her bosom;
The steel, razor-sharp point of the lance was at her bosom.
Then the girl, reaching within her silk, withdrew from her bosom a light square of silk, some eighteen inches square, scarlet, clinging, diaphanous.
I regarded her. She had lovely, exciting shoulders. I saw that her breasts would be very white. Her bosom, small, but sweetly swelling, concealed, strained against the tight satin sheath.
She had short, lovely legs and a sweet, full bosom.
I looked at the white bosom of Evelyn, lifted, shaped and confined in the tightness of the bodice, for the interest of masters.
The naked, large-bosomed, red-haired slave licked and kissed at me and then, when I wished, unable to help herself, cried out her yielding to me.
I indicated the large-bosomed redhead at my feet.
She was naked, collared, red-haired and large-bosomed. She belonged to Mahpiyasapa. One of Mahpiyasapa's wives, with a switch in her gnarled, mutilated hand, the woman with whom I had once spoken outside of his lodge before the attack on the summer camp, was supervising her in her duties.
It was no mistake or coincidence that the red-haired, large-bosomed Natusa had come into the ownership of Mahpiyasapa.
I put my hand to my bosom.
She had one hand at her bosom.
The new girl was short and lusciously bodied. She wore a brief, silken slave tunic, fastened with a single tie at her bosom.
It is also regarded as a more aesthetic chaining arrangement than its opposite, the neck chain, for example, with its linearity, and its sturdy, inflexible links, affording a striking contrast with the softnesses, the beauties, of her lovely bosom.
"Thrust out your breasts, Tiffany," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. I lifted and straightened my back even more, sucking in my gut and putting back my shoulders, this lifting the softness of my bosom brazenly to him, that of a slave girl, for his consideration or attentions.
The skirt's hem, clutched in her small hands, she moaning with misery and frustration, leapt up and down, again and again, in ever-shortening cycles until she held it, frustratedly, between her bosom and throat.
Then, laughing, she dropped the key triumphantly into the bosom of her garment.
Held as she was, and with her hands braceleted behind her, the beauty of her bared bosom was accentuated.
Whereas it is sometimes possible for a male to slip such a chain, because of his straight hips, they stay well on females. About our waists, between the flaring of our hips and the swelling of our bosoms, they find a natural, lovely and secure mounting.
"Let us see you now," she said, "in your collar and cloth." She inspected me. "I gather you are a low slave," she said, "from the exposure of your bosom and the poor quality of the belt and cloth you wear."
I rose to my feet. I rubbed my hands on my thighs. I touched myself about the waist, lifting my hands slightly, calling attention to my bosom.
From the narrowness of her waist, even more compressed by the thongs, her body with predictable but luscious subtlety flared upward to the maddening delights, the exquisite excitements, of her upper body, the softness and vulnerability of her bosom, the softness of her shoulders and throat.
"And this?" I asked, holding the wicked point, the dangerous steel, still sticky from the blood of the ul, of the unsheathed sword to her bosom.
He then took the forward ends of the cord, again free, and this time crossed them, over the bosom, before placing them again through the loop at the back, drawing them forward and, once more, fastening them, perhaps more snugly than was necessary, before her.
I could see the suggestion of agitation, if not of terror, in the heaving of her bosom. She clutched the note.
At this point Lavinia swiftly knelt, her knees in proper position, that of the female slave who is used also for the pleasure of men, reached to her tunic, and from within it, from where she had concealed it, from where it rested, at her bosom, withdrew the note which she then held, her arm extended, to the handsome fellow.
There are, of course, ways in which women such as I, subtly, wordlessly, with tiny movement of the body, a seemingly inadvertent placement of ourselves, a lifting of the bosom, a catching of the breath, the shyest of glances, the tiniest movement of a lip, can petition, and even beg.
One might mention, in passing, that Gorean men find the entire female sexually stimulating, not just, say, the legs, the bosom, the derriere, and so on.
A slaver's practice is often to put binding fiber, or binding leather, about a girl's waist, snugly, and tie her hands behind her back. This, of course, narrows her waist, rounds her belly, and contributes to the accentuation of the bosom.
Small as she was, and slim as she had been, there had been no doubt about, in its lovely proportions, the loveliness of her bosom, the narrowness of her waist, the delightful, flaring width of her hips, the sweetness of her thighs.
The charms of her bosom were amply but subtly, not vulgarly, suggested.
To be sure, Ellen supposed that she had not intended to have any particular effect on Gart, at least fully consciously, certainly not, and, indeed, she had been helpless in his grip, had she not, but she realized, even then, even when she was so new to the collar, that the sight of her beauty must have some sort of effect upon men, and she might have, it seems possible, though she was not sure of it, and doubtless would have denied it at the time, and doubtless it did not take place, struggled a little, a tiny bit, pathetically, futilely, gasped plaintively, submissively, looked up, pathetically, permitted her lips to tremble slightly, and, bent back, drew in her gut, and quickly lifted her bosom, thus accentuating the line of the "slave bow."
Then the tarn was past her and the resistance of her own body to the loop caused it to tighten about her. It took her beautifully, and skillfully, at the waist. It might have snared even a man, so neatly and quickly it was slipped on its quarry, before he could thrust it from his straight, muscular, linear body, but, positioned as it was on Nelsa, a woman, nicely centered, between the flare of her hips and the swelling of her bosom, she could not even have begun to hope to elude its grasp, nor could any beautifully bodied female, no more than Ellen, for similar reasons, could slip the iron belt from her body, whose outline was visible, even now, beneath her gown. . In this sense, some Goreans speculate that the bodies of women were designed for bonds. And, perhaps in some minor, contributory evolutionary sense, in addition to more obvious biological considerations, this is true, given selections and such, women with bodies unable to elude such constraints being more susceptible to capture, mating and mastering. Certainly the females of many animal species, and even of many primate species, do not have such hip structure, such fullness of bosom, and such.
To be sure, the young, slim, sweet curvatures of her body were of a piece, of a whole, an indissoluble, coherent delight, from her small feet and ankles, to her calves and thighs, her hips, her love cradle, her narrow waist, and sweet bosom, to her soft, white shoulders and lovely throat, all a melody of softness, texture and line, and surely no part of her was without its role and portion in the new and exquisite she of her.
She then saw his eyes rove her, her hair, her face, her throat, her shoulders, her bosom, her waist, her love cradle, her thighs.
She reached down to touch her cotton nightgown, but touched, rather, her thigh. She feared that in the intensity of her dream she had drawn it up, about her waist, or bosom.
She lay then on her stomach, rather as she had slept. Perhaps then, she thought, that would conceal most of her. To be sure, then the loveliness of her figure, so extended, would be revealed in other dimensions, the tininess of her feet, the slimness of her ankles, which took shackles so nicely, the swelling of her calves, her thighs, one bearing a slave brand, the curves, now so beautifully and subtly interrelated, of her new figure, of her fundament, her waist and bosom, her white shoulders, the slim neck, the well-shaped head, the lustrous dark hair strewn on the sunlit cement, the small, rounded forearms, the tiny wrists, seeming to call for slave bracelets, the small hands and delicate fingers, which might bring such joy to a master, in such dimensions, and in a thousand others, as small as the subtlety of her diaphragm as she breathed, the trembling of a lip, the timidity of a glance, the tense way in which the merest tip of a finger might touch a metal collar, would she be revealed, in all these ways and others would she be revealed.
The position of the arms, the hands clasped behind the back of the neck, or, sometimes, behind the back of the head, lifts the bosom, exhibiting it beautifully.
It had been only two weeks ago that Portus Canio, apparently satisfied with her service, perhaps even pleased, had thrown a small wad of cloth before her, as she had knelt in her stall. She did not even know what it was until after he had left, and she lifted it, and shook it out. She cried out with delight, and hugged it to her bosom, tears flowing from her eyes. "Thank you, Master!
She pulled a little against the bracelets and there was a tiny sound of chain, emphasizing her helplessness and captivity, and her movements, too, of course, drew the belly chain back, more tightly, about her, reining in her belly, which, in emphasizing the narrowness of her waist, the contrasting flare of her hips, the swelling, lovely ascent to her bosom, and her condition as bound thrall, presumably did not much help either.
She twisted, and squirmed, on the ice. Cold sawdust was on her face and in her hair. Her back ached with cold. She tried to change her position but the ice was even more merciless to her bosom, to her belly, the front of her thighs.
She was well aware, as she had been as long ago as her training, that her body, that of a female, lent itself beautifully to the trussings of captors, because of the flare of her hips, the narrowness of her waist, and the swelling delights of her bosom, ropes, for example, going nicely, tightly, above her bosom and under her armpits, and beneath her bosom and about her waist.
Various measurements were iterated matter-of-factly, for example, those of her bosom, waist and hips, and those of her neck, wrists and ankles, the latter primarily of interest with respect to the dimensions of appropriate identificatory or custodial hardware, the collar, wrist rings and ankle rings.
For a moment Ellen's heart leaped within her bosom, incomprehensibly, with joy, that she would be such, and publicly designated as such.
His eyes examined the curves of her, her bosom beneath the tunic, the narrow waist, the flare of the hips, the thighs, the calves, all of which he owned.
"To see your ankle, the turn of a calf, the sweetness of an arm, the softness of a small shoulder, the turning of a wrist, the delicacy of a hand, the provocative call of your love cradle, the joy of your waist, made for a slave chain, your swelling bosom, its delights, the whiteness of your encircled throat, the beauty of your face, the bright glance of your eyes, the trembling softness of your embonded lips! You could drive a man mad with passion and desire! It is for women like you that collars are made! What man, seeing you, would not want to own you!"
He then turned his attention to the brunette who, frightened, not meeting his eyes, flushing scarlet, every inch of her, turned frantically away from him, her side to the glassine barrier, covering as she could the sweetness of her bosom with her small hands.
The brunette, too, lowered her hands, but, at the male's frown, returned them to the position behind her head.
It is a common examination position. It lifts the bosom nicely, and keeps the hands from interfering with the examination, in both its visual and tactile dimensions.
Surely, despite her efforts, the softness and fullness of her bosom could be but ill concealed.
A slave tunic can be quite fetching on a woman. To be sure, they are designed for that purpose. They display the legs, usually generously, and often the thighs, and do little to conceal the bosom, and her soft, fair shoulders.
To be sure, the hint of a bosom, the suggestion of the sweet width of hips, within the robes of concealment, was indeed attractive, and even free women understood this quite well, for not all slaves were in collars.
In nadu, as the back is straight, the shoulders are back, and this accentuates the delights of the bosom.
I released the pendant, and it fell again upon the bosom of its bearer.
Before the first girl reached the top of the ramp, her progress was arrested, by a whip held to her bosom.
Lord Nishida gestured to the coffle master, and he drew his whip away from the bosom of the first girl.
She was breathing heavily, this stress marked by the lovely rise and fall of her bosom.
Every movement, every wisp of her hair, is guilty! Her ankles, her wrists, her bosom, her eyes, her lips, her feet, her hands, each quarter hort of her, each bit of her, each particle of her is guilty!
I held up the lamp, and, in its light, examined her, from the smallness of her thonged feet, to the curves of her calves, and thighs, the sweetness of her love cradle, the narrowness of her waist, the delights of a small but ample, well-proportioned, exciting bosom, which would be so vulnerable to the caresses, the lips, and kisses of a master, to her rounded forearms, half pulled behind her, her soft shoulders, the white throat, yet to be closely clasped in a signet of bondage, her exquisite features, her lips, and eyes, her wide, frightened eyes, and her dark hair, which I supposed had not been cut since her arrival in some slave pen, as Gorean masters commonly like long hair in a slave.
Too, the girl is expected to stand erect, her shoulders back, which also accentuates the breasts, and her belly is to be sucked in, this calling attention to the width of her love cradle, the narrowness of a pleasant, trim waist, and the lovely flare of her body, as it rises to the beauty of her bosom.
Her measurements had been publicized. Such measurements include not only those for hips, waist, and bosom, but those for ankle, wrist, and throat, these relevant to wrist rings, ankle rings, and collar.
Tuza drew forth her dagger, and put its point to the bosom of Darla. The former leader drew back a little.
See the slave. See what is collared there. Consider the curves of her, the sweetness of the bosom, its small, but delicious amplitudes, scarce concealed within the tunic, the narrowness of the waist, the width of the love cradle, the softness of the shoulders, the rounded forearms, the small wrists, fit for bracelets, the slender thighs, the rounded calves, the trim ankles, can you not see them, too, in shackles?
Your measurements are taken, in detail, your bosom, waist, thighs, wrists, ankles. In this way, in your sleep as you are gently sedated, you are measured variously, for example, your neck for the collar, your wrists and ankles for wrist and ankle rings, and so on.
"What a fool you are," he said. "Do you think I do not know the nature of slave girls, how they relish being looked upon, how conscious they are of their attractions, how they love it that a scarcely garbed flank is viewed with interest, that one observes the sensitivity and delicacy of their features, speculates on what would be the touch of their lips, or hair, marvels at the provocativeness of a shoulder, a forearm, the delicious curve where hip meets waist, the madness of their ankles and calves, the joys of their bosoms, the loveliness of a waist, the sweet width of their love cradles, the excitements of their throats, locked in their collars. Why do you think we buy and own them! And do you not think they do not well know why they are bought and owned? They love being the fullest, the most complete, and most perfect of women."
"Hold!" called a mounted guard, on a saddle tharlarion, placing his long, slender lance across the bosom of the lead slave.
"What am I offered for this lithe, sleek, nicely curved, lovely barbarian beast, new to her collar, fresh from the barbarian world?" called the auctioneer. "Is she not a splendid catch? Consider her! Regard the beauty of her face, the fineness of her features, her sweet throat, encircled closely with locked metal, the dark, brown hair, too short now, but it will grow, the loveliness of her shoulders, the softness of her bosom, the narrowness of her waist, the width of her love cradle!"
He then went to the side, to a cabinet, which he opened, and, from a shelf, one of several containing what appeared to be assorted, small, folded, pressed, layered cloths, withdrew one of these objects, from the middle pile, and cast it to me, against my body.
I seized it, gratefully, and held it to my bosom, shedding tears of joy. "Thank you, thank you, Master," I breathed.
"Who amongst you," said Ho-Tosk, "is not a superb judge of the lineaments of slaves, the trimness of ankles, the curves of calves and thighs, the latitudes of bellies, the sweetness of bosoms, the softness of shoulders, the beauties of features, eyes, and hair, the excitingness of a lovely throat closely encircled with an owner's collar?
Too, aesthetically, her wrists pinioned behind her, the wondrous, appealing, exciting curves of her hips, belly, waist, bosom, and shoulders are framed and accentuated.