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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 10:59:54 GMT -5
'Before he had taken the sack from its shelf he had ordered me to the floor of the utility room, to my back on the dusty boards. "Lie there and juice;" he had told me. 'Waste no time ebout it." I had lain there and, briefly, shut my eyes and thought of his might and power, and my helpless slavery, and then I was ready, almost in a moment, to recieve his lie and had me swiftly. Kajira of Gor 275
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:01:31 GMT -5
"There is a sense, of course," I said, "in which you are supposedly of less interest than a free woman." "What is that," she asked, "Master." "Suppose," I said, "that I was, in my compartments, entertaining a free woman. In such a situation you would be expected to efface yourself, and humbly serve. You would not speak unless you were spoken to, and then presumably only to respond deferentially to commands. You would remain in the background, a mere instrument to serve us. In no way would you in the slightest be permitted to detract from the impression or effect the free woman desires to create or compete with her in any way. You would be nothing in the room but an almost invisible convenience." "I see," she said. "And yet this is all on the surface," I said, "and largely a matter of theory." "Oh, Master?" she asked. "Yes," I said, "for in the depth of the situation your presence is felt profoundly by the free woman. Indeed, she will hate you with a ferocity which is difficult for you to understand. For you are a reproach, in the depths of your womanhood, to her superficiality. There is more excitement she knows in your slightest movement, the turning of your head, the tiny movement of a wrist or finger, that of a girl in bondage, than in her entire, tight, proud, righteous body. She can never touch you in the profundity of your existence and reality unless sometime she, too, should learn what it is to be only a collared slave. She knows that you have found your womanhood and she has not. Thus she hates you. She knows the free man is anxious for her to leave, that he may hurry you, his slave, to the furs. Thus she hates you. It is you whom he has put in his collar, not her. It is you he rapes in his arms, not her. It is thus that she despises and hates you. She must rise and leave. You will remain, and serve. She hates you, and, with a depth and intensity which is difficult for you to understand, envies you." "But why?" she asked. "Because you are a slave," I said. "I see," she said. Thus," I said, "that is a situation in which a free woman is theoretically of more interest than a slave, but, upon closer analysis, the center of interest, even in such a situation, because of her latency, her womanhood, her helplessness, what can be done with her, is be slave." -Beasts of Gor
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:02:30 GMT -5
A slave girl, one who truly serves men, has often much freedom. Since they have everything, and anything, they want from her, and she is complete slave, and they total master, there is no struggle between them; she, accordingly, in a strange way, is prized and treasured; how many women of Earth, I wonder, are prized and treasured by their men; one can prize and treasure, of course, only something which one owns; a free person can be respected, and even loved, but cannot stand to another in that unique relationship which is that of prize and treasure; to stand in that relationship a woman must be owned; further, since each man, in his heart, desires a beautiful woman as a slave, he is, when he owns one, at least in this respect, contented, satisfied and pleased; a contented, pleased, satisfied man is a happy man, and a happy man is a kind man, and a generous man; he is jealous only of his prerogatives over the slave; of course, when his heat is upon him, then he becomes less kind and generous, and more the harsh master; she then, to her pleasure, well understands his dominance over her; then her slavery is truly brought home to her; even among free lovers, I have heard, the man, in the fullness of his heat, often laughs at the woman’s illusion of freedom and seizes her to him as a slave; how marvelous to the man, then, if she is truly a slave. With what joy may such a woman, in true bondage, be seized and used. Moreover, her bondage, naturally, extends beyond the brief, several hours of pleasure; she simply belongs to him, and must continue to serve him, however he pleases; how exciting it must be for a man to own so delicious a creature as a woman; how utterly marvelous for him!
It is more difficult to speak of women. In my heart, I know, there lies a slave girl, once denied, then secretly feared, now openly and joyously recognized, who longs for a master. I do not know if this is true for other women or not. Let them look into their own secret hearts.
I do not think the longing of men is an oddity in the genetic history of a species; I think there is a reciprocity which has been intricately evolved; this desire, this longing for a beautiful slave, for a beautiful female, who stands to him as slave to master, which is universal in glandularly normal, strong men does not seem likely to have evolved in isolation; the evolution of the tiger’s tooth suggests the presence of game; the evolution of the eye suggests the existence of light; the existence of blood suggests the organism’s presence in an environment which supplies water and salt; similarly a man’s desire to own a slave suggests that there are slaves to be owned, waiting to be mastered; in the animal kingdom the instinct to dominate and the instinct to submit are functions of one another, each real and deep in the blood of the evolved, complementary beasts;
let the woman who desires to kneel naked before her male and put her head to his feet do so; but let her be wary as he cries out with pleasure and seizes her, for she is then a slave.
Slave Girl of Gor
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:03:12 GMT -5
In your heart," I said, "You know you are a woman. Thus, when you find you simply will be given no alternative other than being a true woman, in the full sense of the word, designed by nature as a love slave for males strong enough to master you, you cannot help but be thrilled. You are forced to be yourself, your true self. There is a joy in this, and a liberating honesty, and openness; it is natural that this be felt as exciting, as genuine, as authentic, as real, as significant, as true, indeed, as profoundly and thrillingly true. Gone are the politically and economically motivated lies; gone is the cant and hypocrisy Present then is the sweet thrilling truth, at last freed, no longer suppressed and hidden, and love." "Please kiss me, Master," she said. I kissed her. "Are you going to keep me, Master?’ she asked. "I do not know," I said. "But do not fear, lovely slave. On this world there are hundreds of thousands of men fully capable of mastering you. You will someday, doubtless, given the sellings and exchanges, and your growth in skills and beauty, find love." "A woman desires love," she whispered. "Love is found more often among slave girls than free women," I said. "If you would learn love, learn slavery." "Yes, Master," she said. She kissed me. "Please me," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. The lamp went out softly in the darkness. This frightened her. "Must you go out on the ice?’ she whispered. "Yes," I said. "Are you going to take me with you?" she asked. "Yes," I said. Beasts
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:03:44 GMT -5
Page 27, Magicians of GOR
"`I exist for you,' she said, `and it is what I want, to please and serve you.' She was much in love. She wanted to give all of herself to him, irreservedly, to hold nothing back, to live for him, and, if necessary, to die for him. It is the way of the female in love, for whom no service is too small, no sacrifice too great, offering herself selflessly as an oblation to the master. "
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:04:17 GMT -5
Page 135, Dancer of GOR
"But I knew, looking down at those faces, that if any of them owned me, I would have to be fully pleasing to them. I would have to bend all of my efforts, and all of my beauty, my charm, my grace, my knowledge, my intelligence, my tact, everything that I was, and could hope be, to that end. I would have to be to them, and perfectly, a pleasure slave. And what horrified me most, I think, was that I wanted this. I wanted to serve men, and give them pleasure, to be precious to them, to be loved and appreciated, to make them happy. "
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:04:53 GMT -5
"That you are a slave makes you additionally stimulating to the male," I said, "aside from your mere beauty and intelligence." "Yes," Master," she said. "So do not be surprised, in your servitude," I said, "that you find men strong. Simply to look upon you, a beautiful slave, will commonly be enough to stimulate their lust. You are no longer a free woman, filled with her rigidities and negativities, for whom it is permissible to be irritating and boring. No. You are a lovely slave. Looking upon you men will want you. They will want to buy you. They will want to own you." "Yes, Master," she said. "Men even kill to possess women such as you," I told her. "You are that desirable." "Yes, Master," she said. "So do not prate in awe of male power," I said. "It is you, and your beauty, and your slavery, and your intelligence, which provides so powerful an incentive to their strengths and aggressions. Whether this pleases you or not, you are such that men, looking upon you, will want you, and will want you so much that they will be willing to pay for you, or even fight for you. Do you begin to understand the meaning now of being a beautiful slave?" "Yes, Master," she whispered, frightened. "You are property," I said. "Yes, Master," she said. "A treasure," I said. "Your treasure," she said. "Yes," I said. "How strange it is to be helplessly owned," she marveled, "to be subject to sale or exchange." "Do you find it thrilling?" I asked. "Yes, Master," she said. "Who owns you?" I asked. "You do, Master," she said. "Whose are you?" I asked. "I am yours," she said, "literally." "Yes," I said. "Take your girl, Master," she said. "She begs you." "Very well," I said. "This is what it is to be a slave," she whispered. "Slavery is more than your touch, but without your touch it would be nothing." I kissed her, softly. "It is your touch," she said, intensely, "which makes a girl a slave!" "The touch of any master," I said, "can turn a girl into a slave." "Do you leave me no pride?" she wept "None," I said, "for you are a slave." Her breathing became more intense. "Do not disturb the others in the hut," I cautioned her. "Yes, Master," she whispered. Then she again yielded, intensely, helplessly. -Beasts of Gor
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:05:34 GMT -5
"It is easy to tell among girls which are familiar with their condition and which are not. Once a girl truly understands that she is a slave, and there is no escape for her, once she understands it truly, emotionally, categorically, intellectually, physiologically, totally, deeply, profoundly, in every cell in her beautiful body, a fantastic transformation occurs in her. She then knows she is truly a slave. She then becomes wild and free, and sexual, and cares not that she might be scorned by the free either for her miserable condition or helpless appetites; she knows she will be what she must; she has no choice; she is slave. Women, in their heart, long to submit; this is necessary for the slave girl; she must submit or die; submitted, she is thrilled to the core; she lives then for love and service, bound to the will of her master. The joy of the slave girl may seem incomprehensible to the free but it is a reality." ~Beasts of Gor, Page 55~
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:29:43 GMT -5
“I had been conquered and enraptured, destroyed and renewed, rent in fragments and made whole, freed and enslaved, broken and created. And in the end, overwhelmed, struggling to comprehend, I had found myself more a slave than ever." ~Witness of Gor, page 306~
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Post by sweetlarma on May 29, 2006 11:30:58 GMT -5
"The aroused sexuality of the slave girl is surely the strongest of the chains with which she is bound." Dancer
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Post by sweetlarma on Jun 25, 2006 20:16:33 GMT -5
New slaves are often treated with great harshness. It helps them learn quickly that they are slaves. Later, when the girl is well trained and her services become perfections she may be treated more leniently, even lovingly, like a dog. To be sure, if she should become in the least bit lax, the original strictures, or worse, will be instantly reimposed, or instituted. Dancer of Gor, page 90
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Post by sweetlarma on Jun 25, 2006 20:17:35 GMT -5
One owns slaves and commands them. One does what one likes with them. One does not bargain with them. Mercenaries of Gor, page 367
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Post by sweetlarma on Jun 25, 2006 20:18:18 GMT -5
What he said did not surprise me. The Gorean Master, commonly, likes a spirited girl, one who fights the whip and collar, resisting until the last, perhaps months later, she is overwhelmed and must acknowledge herself his, utterly and without reservation, then fearing only that he might tire of her and sell her to another. Nomads of Gor, page 29
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Post by sweetlarma on Jun 25, 2006 20:19:22 GMT -5
...the slave girl is not simply someone with whom the man lives; she is very special to him; she is a treasured possession; he owns her; he wants to know her; profoundly and deeply; the background, history, the mind, the intelligence, the appetites, the nature and disposition of his lovely article of property; this knowledge, of course, puts her more at his mercy; by making it possible to manipulate her feelings, exploit weaknesses, drop asides, ect., she in the helpless condition of slavery, it gives him more power over her. Tribesmen of Gor, page 42
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Post by sweetlarma on Jun 25, 2006 20:19:58 GMT -5
I wanted to be many women to him, and yet the same, always El-in-or. A man is a strange beast I think, for he both desires one woman and many women, and perhaps most he desires one woman who will be many women, others, delicious others, and yet always, too, herself. Captive of Gor, page 352
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