"I am now in the power of uncompromising and cominant males. I must serve them and please them and as a woman fully. I am owned by them. They bring the fullness of my womanhood out of men and are content with nothing less. On Gor, for the first time in my life, I am a total woman. I am compltely fulfilled. I am incredibly happy."
"You are fond of your slavery?" I asked. "I love my slavery, Master," she said. "Would you like to go back to Earth?" I asked. "No, Master," she said. I regarded her. "See my brand," she said.
I did so. I tws the common Kajira mark. It was the same brand worn by Miss Henderson. Both girls were lelft-thigh branded. "My collar," she said.I regarded it. It was simple, narrow, close-fitting, of gleaming steel. "The thongs on my wrists," she said. I looked at her bound writs.
"And my naked body," she said, "tied for a master's pleasure." "Yes," I said. "Am I not an exquisite slave girl?" she asked. "Yes," I said.
"And yet," she said, "I am from the planet Earth. Canyou doubt, truly, then that the women of Earth can be slaves?" No," I said, "I do not doubt it."
"Perhaps you do doubt it," she said. "No," I said, "No."
"Untie me," she said. "Why?" I asked. "I will prove to you that I am a slave," she said. I looked at her not speaking. "Have you held slave inyour arms?" she asked. "Yes," I said, "many times." "sek then," she said, "if I am different.I regarded her.
"Touch me," she begged. I smiled, ignoring her plea. She learned back, her writs bound at the rings. "You are clearly Gorean," she said. "I see that I must wait upon your will."
I sat, cross-legged, for some time, watching her. Then her eyes looked pleadingly at me. I could smell the heat of her. "do you beg to be had and as a slave?" I asked. "Yes Master," she whispered. "I beg to be had, and as a slave." I then slowly untied her.
"So," she asked later, smiling, lying on her stomach beside me, "am I so different?" "No," I said. "You well put me to the test," she laughted. I touched the collar, lightly, at her throat. "Do you doubt that I am a slave"?" she asked. "No," I said. "You see," she said, "that I am a superb slave." "It is true," I said. "Have I not been appropriately and fittingly imbonded?" she asked. "You have been," I said.
"Do I not belong in a slave collar?" she asked. "There is no doubt about it," I said. "You do."
Tasdron had me for a silver tarsk," she said. "A cheap price," I said. "You are worth more." "I am better now," she said, "than when Tasdron bought me. I have learned much." "I would say that you are worth now at least two silver tarsks." "Thank you Master," she wais, warmly, kissing me. "It is hard to believe that you are from Earth." I said. She laughed. "But I am Master," she said. "You saw me there yourself in the restaurant."
"Yes," I said. "When you saw me there," she asked, "did you want to have me?" "Yes," I said. "Master," she said. "Yes," I said. "When I saw you too at the restaurant," she said. "I wondered what it would be like to lie in your arms." "A bold admission," I said. "For an Earth girl who thinks she is free, perhaps," she laughted, "but not for a slave. Slaves may speak such truths." "That is true," I said. "But never for a moment did I dream," she said, "that I would lie naked in your arms as an obedient, collared slave on an alien world."
I then took her by the arm and threw here again beneath me. She looked up happily. "Is Master going to have me again?" she asked. "Yes," I said.
"Peggy is pleased to have been found worthy of the attentions of Master," she said. "Oh," she said, "Master is strong." Then she said, "You are Gorean. I know you are Gorean!" Then she said, "I yield me to my Gorean Master!"
It is pleasant to have a woman yield to you as a slave. I know of nothing which so exalts the power and manhood of the human male. Too there is apparently nothing which so deeply releases the emotions and yielding sensuality of the human female.
In these matters something is touched which obviously bears deeply on the fundamental nature of the sexes.Here in human relations is yet another exemplification of one of the major and incessantly recurrent themes of nature, that of dominance and submission. The realities of nature must be denied, I suspect, only at one's own peril. And certainly human beings cannot be fulfilled, nor can they know themselves, until they have become themselves. The nature of human being precedes the fleeeting parades of mottoes and slogans. It lies latent and obdurate in ambush, if you like, in the genetic codes.
"Permit me to kiss you," she said. "You may do so," I told her.
Is there a human animal beneath the conditioned ideologies? It seems not improbably. We may torture and mutilate the human animal; we may deny that it exists; but it lies within us, in the chemistry of every living cell in our bodies. In denying it we, truly, deny only ourselves. In hating it, we hate our own hearts and our own blood. We are not so terrible, really. It is only that we are men and women and not something else. Perhaps it is wrong to be men and women. Perhaps we should be something else. Perhaps we should consider ourselves images and inventions.Perhaps we whould participate in the mythologies convenient to the manipulative purposes of self-seving elites. Doubtless the question if difficult. It is always hard to know the truth and pretnd not to believe it. Perhaps we should not be men and women. Perhaps we should not be true to ourselves. But even if we should deny ourselves and starve and orture and frustrate ouselves, we wold still in the end be ourselves. We would remain men and women, only then, perhaps mutilated and sickened men and women, useful tools in the schemes of others, of cunning an dpathological frustrates, themselves often as confused and miserable as the uncritical creatures they would systematicaly delude.
We are what we are, and will remain so, regardless of what we may be taught to believe. Fearing ourselves doe not make us not ourselves. Can the human reality, in the fullness of its truth, be truly so fearful a thing. I do not think so. Human naturea may be despised; it may be thwarted; it may be distorted and denied. This may be accomplished by conditioning prorams, obedient to their own antecedents and developing in accord with their own histories and social dynamics.
It is clearly possible to educate the yound to distruct and fear themselves, and to injure and torture themselves. And in turn as a funtion of their ownconditioning programs, they may dutifully bequeath their own tortures to their own young in turn. Yet how much pain must be endured, how much crime and madness,how much unhappiness and misery, before human rationality, that pathetic reed, that faril stuff, that small weapon, that fragile tool, must revole and cry, "No!" How obvious must it be before human being are wiling to realize that a grotesque and biologically inimical inversion of values has taken place? What would be accepted as evidence if not disease, madness, misery, irrationality, frustration, criminality and sickness, that a tragic disparateness now exists between the needs of human beings and the imperatives of society. Must it be human beings who must be wrong? Perhaps it is, rather, those sociological imperatives which have gradually over the centuries, diverged from their orignal instrumentalities to follow their own disconnected and remote trajectories.
To ancient Attia it is said there was a gian, Procrustes. He would seize upon travelers and tie them upon an iron bed. If the traverl was too short for the bed, he would disjoint and break their boies until they fitted it; if they were too long for the bed, he would cut their feet from them, until, they again fitted the bed. Perhaps the bed of Procrustes is the truth and men must be broken or cut to pieces that they may fit it. On the other hand, clearly there is an alternative, although Procrustes seemed not to have heard of it. The bed could be made to fit the guest. Is the bed to conform to the guest or is the guest to conform to the bed. From my own point of view, I would prefer a bed which considered the nature of human beings. I would make the human being the measure by which I judged the value of the beds. I see little of profit in making the bed the measure of the human being, and requiring that we remake, if by torture and mutilation, the human being until it fits the bed. Besides, we cannot remake the human being to fit the bed, truly. We do not make new human beings or better human beings by this method. All we make by that method is broken or mutilated human beings.