A Gorean slave girl in the presence of a free man or woman always kneels, unless excused from doing so. I had even learned to
kneel when addressed by the guards and, of course, always, when approached by Targo, my master. A Gorean slave, incidentally,
always addresses free men as "Master," and all free women as "Mistress."
I watched the flat wagon rolling closer.
The woman sat regally on the curule chair, wrapped in resplendent, many-colored silks. Her raiment might have cost more than any
three or four of us together were worth. She was, moreover, veiled.
"Do you dare look upon a free woman?' asked a guard.
I not only dared, but I was eager to do so. But, nudged by his foot, as the wagon approached, I lowered my head to the grass, as
did the other girls.
The wagon, and the retinue, stopped only a few feet opposite us.
I did not dare to raise my head.
I suddenly then understood that I was not as she. For the first time in my life I suddenly understood, kneeling in the grass in a
Gorean field, the thundering, devastating realities of social institutions. I suddenly understood, as I had not before, how on Earth my
position and my wealth had created an aura about me, that made lesser people respect me and move aside when I wished to pass,
that made them deferential to me, eager to please me, fearful should they fail to do so. How naturally I had carried myself differently
then they, better, more arrogantly. I was better! I was their superior! But now I was taken from my world.
"Lift you head, Child," said a woman's voice.
I did so.
She was no older than I, I am sure, but she addressed me as a child.
The guard's foot nudged me again.
"Buy me, Mistress," I stammered.
"A barbarian," smiled the woman. "How amusing."
"I picked her up in the fields," said Targo. He was anxious that my presence on his chain not be taken as evidence of his poor
judgment. He wished to assure the woman that he had had me for nothing, that he would not have purchased such an inferior girl
for his chain.
I looked into her eyes. How steadily she regarded me, over her veil, her eyes amused. How beautiful she seemed. How splendid and
fine! I could no longer meet her eyes.
"You may lower your head, Girl," she said, not unkindly.
Gratefully I put my head again, swiftly, to the grass.
I was furious with how I acted, how I felt, but I could not help myself.
She was so magnificent. I was nothing. The other girls, too, had their heads to the grass, kneeling before the free woman. They, like
I, were only slaves, stripped, their ankles chained, their throats in leather coffle, branded girls, nothing before one who was free.
I wept. I was a slave girl. Captive of Gor, page 73, 74
Hassan shrugged. "Because they knew themselves to be the most perfect and profound of women," he said. "That is why they are
proud." Hassan laughed. "Sometimes," he said, "girls grow so proud it is necessary to whip them, to remind them that they are only
"I can walk proudly," said Tarna. "Lead me through the halls." She rose to her feet, and stood before us.
"There is a difference," laughed Hassan, "between the pride of a free woman and the pride of the slave girl, The pride of a free
woman is the pride of a woman who feels herself to be the equal of a man. The pride of the slave girl is the pride of the girl who
knows that no other woman is the equal of herself."
Tarna suddenly shuddered, inadvertently, with pleasure. I could see that this insight had thrilled her to the quick. Tribesmen of Gor,
“Do you find me of interest, Master?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“How can a girl who is only a slave be of interest?” she asked.
“Your question is foolish,” I said. “All men desire a slave, or slaves. It is their nature. Thus, that a woman is a s lave, even m itself,
makes her extraordinarily interesting. Her slavery in itself, apart from her intelligence or beauty, is found extremely provocative and
exciting to the male, because of his nature.”
“But aren't free women more interesting?” she asked.
“All women are interesting,” I said. “But consider the matter objectively. Anything that was interesting about you when you were
free remains interesting about you now. But now you are additionally interesting because you are in helpless bondage. Too, slavery,
because of its relation to a female´s genetic predispositions, tends to free her to be herself, rather than an imitator of male-type
values. It frees her individuality by liberating her from the necessities of pretense. Too, slavery, by removing certain inhibitions and
demands alien to a female's deepest nature generally results in an increase in her beauty and energy; she is no longer as
constricted and miserable, and needs no longer spend energy fighting to suppress herself and her natural desires, surely a
grotesque and pathological misapplication of effort, a tragic waste of time and energy. That the girl, thus, becomes more beautiful
and energetic does not, of course, diminish her interest. Indeed, similarity, routine, identity, boredom, those things which tend to
make a woman less interesting, tend often to be functions of widespread conformances to externally imposed demands and images.
It is thus that the free woman, though interesting, being female, is usually, sadly, a bound prisoner of her own prejudices, a rigid,
constricted, ideologically restrained organism, an imitator of images and stereotypes alien to her own nature, a puppet obedient to
principles foreign to herself. How can a woman be free until she obeys the laws of her own nature?”
“I do not know,” said Arlene.
“Interest, of course, is somewhat subjective,” I admitted. “Some men may prefer neurotic frustrated, rigid, imitative, conforming free
women, mouthing the correct slogans and adopting the correct views on all matters, and eager to slander all who disagree with her,
but other men, perhaps naive types, would just as soon own an intelligent, beautiful, reflective, loving slave, a girl who thinks for
herself, but must nonetheless obey him, regardless of her will, in all things. The matter seems a simple one. Let men choose
between such women. Let men choose between them, between the stereotype and the truth, between the pain and the pleasure,
between the unhappy and the happy, between the tasteless and the delicious, between sickness and health, between suffering
She looked up at me.
“But regardless of the truth in these matters,” I said, “you are objectively my slave. Thus, whether you are or are not of interest is
not really much to the point. Whether you are of more or less interest than your duller sisters in their intellectual cages
congratulating themselves on how free they are is not important What is important is that I own you. From my point of view I find
you, and girls like you, far more interesting than your smug sisters. They seem generally much alike, even in their mode of dress, and
tend in their thinking and conversation, because of their conditioning, to be repetitiously similar. Free women, though they need not
be, are often boring. Who does not know, for example, what a female ‘intellectual´ will think on a given topic, provided it is a topic
on which agreement is expected?”
“I am, then, of interest?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“A girl is pleased,” she said.
“I found you of interest when you were free,” I said, “and I find you of much greater interest now.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Part of this,” I said, “is doubtless that I now can, and will, do with you exactly as I please.”
“Oh, Master?” she asked.
“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 loam 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 wili 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
“I see,” she said.
“Beware of free women,” I smiled.
“Yes,” she said, “I think I would be very afraid of them.”
“And you should be,” I said. ‘They can often be terribly cruel to slave girls.”
“I do fear them,” she said. Beasts of Gor, page 275 to 277
“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.” Beasts of Gor, page
“Where did you find this new slave?” asked Arlene of me, not too pleasantly, regarding the slim, beautiful girl I had brought with me.
“I am not a slave, Slave,” said the pale, aristocratic, black haired girl.
Arlene looked at me frightened.
“She is not yet a legal slave,” I told Arlene,” so treat her with the technical respect due to a free female.”
Arlene fell to her knees before her, her head down and the girl straightened herself, proudly.
“Get up,” I sad to Arlene. She did so. “Though this girl is not yet a legal slave,” I told Arlene, “she is actually a true slave.” The girl
recoiled. “Thus,” I said, “she need not be treated with particular respect.” Beasts of Gor, page 415
She put down her head. “I beg clothing, Master,” she sobbed.
“Do you beg to earn it?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“In any way that I see fit?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” she sobbed.
“In such a situation as this, formerly,” I said, “you spoke of Alice, your sister in bondage, as a whore.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“It now seems that it is you,” I said, “who are the whore.”
“Yes, Master,” she said. “It is now I who am the whore.”
“But you are mistaken,” I said, “in your own case, as you were in the case of Alice.”
She lifted her bead. “Master?” she asked.
“In your vanity,” I said, “you dignify yourself.”
“Do you think you are free?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“The whore,” I said, “is a free woman. Do not presume, in your insolence, lest you be cut to pieces, to compare yourself with her.
She is a thousand times higher than you. You are a thousand times lower than she. She is free. You are slave.” Explorers of Gor,
“Is she free?” asked Ayari.
“No,” said Kisu.
“Have her put her arms over her head, wrists back to back,” said Ayari.
“Do so,” said Kisu.
Tende complied. “How lovely that is,” said Kisu.
“I have seen it done in Schendi,” said Ayari. ‘It is one of the ways in which a slave may begin a dance.”
I smiled to myself. That was true. The lovely posture which Tende had just assumed was undeniably one of the initial postures of
certain slave dances. It is widely known on Gor, of course, not just in Schendi. It is, for example, quite familiar in Port Kar and, far to
the southeast of that port, and somewhere far to the north and east of our present position, in the Tahari. Slave dances, of course,
may begin in dozens of ways, sometimes even with the girl roped or chained at a man's feet. I looked at Tende. To be sure, only a
slave dance could begin from such a posture. No free woman, for example, would dare to place herself in such a position before
Gorean free men, unless perhaps, weary of her misery and frustration, she was begging them, almost explicitly, to put her in a collar.
There are many stories of Gorean free women, sometimes of high caste, who, as a lark or in a spirit of bold play, dared to dance in a
paga tavern. Often, perhaps to their horror, they found themselves that very night hooded and gagged, locked in close chains, lying
on their back, their legs drawn up, fastened in a wagon, chained by the neck and ankles, their small bodies bruised on its rough
boards as they, helpless beneath a rough tarn blanket, are carried through the gates of their city. Explorers of Gor, page 342
“It is a common property of human beings,” I said, “that they, for better or for worse, do not pay much attention to the thoughts
and feelings of others. Thus, it would not be surprising if most men did not pay much attention to the thoughts and feelings of
women. If it is any consolation, they do not pay much attention to the thoughts and feelings of other men either. Similar remarks, of
course, hold for women. Many women, for example, are excellent in not listening to others. No one sex has a monopoly on
dogmatism.” I looked at her. “If you are interested in this sort of thing from the Gorean viewpoint,” I said, “free men and women are
usually attentive to the thoughts and feelings of one another. Not only are they free, but they may even share a Home Stone. Free
women, in being free, command attention when they speak. It is their due. The case with slaves, such as you, my dear, is of course
much different. The difference, however, is that respect and attention is not due to you, that it need not be accorded to you. You are
slave. In actual practice, of course, masters tend to pay a great deal of attention to the thoughts and feelings of their lovely slaves.
It is rewarding and delicious to do so. How wonderful it is to know another human being so intimately, especially one one owns.
There are no secrets between masters and slaves. Her deepest thoughts and desires, as well as her most trivial fancies and
observations, are open to him and, because he owns her, of great interest to him. A man is much more likely to be in-tensely fond of
a girl he owns than of a free individual toward whom he stands in a mere contractual relationship. The latter he does not own; the
former he does. The owned girl is a valuable; she is precious; this makes her much different from a business partner. For what it is
worth, the most intimate and deepest loves I have known have been between masters and their slaves, that between the love
master and his love slave.” Explorers of Gor, page 342
If you would improve your situation somewhat," he said, "I recommend that you learn the arts of the slave girl, and practice them
"That would only improve my situation somewhat?" she asked, puzzled.
"Yes," he said, "for you would still be free, and no free woman, because she is free, can truly compete for the attention and affection
of a man as can a slave girl."
"Why?" she asked.
"I do not know," said Turbus Veminiius. 'Perhaps it is simply because the slave girl is a slave girl and is owned."
"What then am I to do?" she asked.
"You could risk slavery," he said, "expose yourself to possible capture, walk the high bridges at lonely Ahn, picnic in the country, go
to paga taverns alone, take dangerous sea voyages."
"But what if I were caught, and enslaved?" she asked.
"You would then be a true slave girl," he said, "and would doubtless be taught, thoroughly, and more deeply and sensuously than
you could ever hope to learn them as a free woman for you would then be a slave, the arts of the female slave." Fighting slave of
Gor, page 217-218
"Yes," said the Lady Florence, "surely now my vengeance is complete and perfect, but if this is so, then why do I feel somehow
"I can explain that to you, Lady Florence." said Tenalion. "if you wish to listen."
She regarded him, puzzled.
"Girl," he said to the slave.
"Yes, Master," she said, quickly, frightened that she had been abruptly spoken to. Had she not been fully pleasing?
'Are you pleased that you are slave?" he asked her.
There was a silence. Then the girl whispered, "Yes, Master, I am pleased that I am a slave."
The women, the Lady Leta, the Lady Perimene, the Lady Florence, gasped in astonishment.
"That is why you are dissatisfied, my dear Lady Florence," said Tenalion.
'I do not understand,' said the Lady Florence.
'You have liberated the slave in her," said Tenaliom. "She is now free to be the slave that she is, fully."
"I do not understand," said the Lady Florence.
"She will come to know emotions, and degradations and joys of which you, a free woman, cannot even dream. You have returned
her birthright to her."
"Her birthright?" asked the Lady Florence.
"Woman is born to the collar and love," said Tenalion. "You have put her in a collar. And she must now, helplessly, seek the other."
Fighting slave of Gor, page 301
"It has nothing to do with such things!" she said. "Free women are different from slave girls. They are simply different! Free women
are noble and fine! Slave girls are only meaningless lascivious, sensuous, little sluts!"
"Many slave girls are as large, or larger then you, Lady Florence," I said. "Too, where do you think slave girls come from? Very few
are bred slaves." Fighting slave of Gor, page 350
Free women, incidentally, are almost never raped on Gor, unless it be perhaps a preparatory lesson preceding their total
There seem to be two major reasons why free women are seldom raped on Gor. First, it is thought that they, being free, are to be
accorded the highest respect, and, secondly, slave females are regarded as being much more desirable. There is little difficulty,
commonly, incidentally, in distinguishing between the free woman and the slave. The garment of the slave is usually brief, distinctive
and sexually exciting; it is designed to show her to men; the garments of the free woman, on the other hand, are commonly
multitudinous, concealing and cumbersome; they are designed to protect her modesty, and hide her from the eyes of men.
In many cities it is a capital offense for the slave girl to don such garments. They are not for her. She is only a slave. Similarly, free
women will almost never touch the garment of a slave. They would be scandalized to do so. Such garments are just too sexually
exciting. On the other hand, there have been cases when a free woman, boldly, has donned such a garment and dared to walk in
the streets and upon the bridges, masquerading as a mere slave upon an errand for her master. She will not be recognized for,
commonly, when she goes out, she is veiled.
On the streets, now, of course, she will be taken for only another slave. She revels in this new-found freedom; she exults in the bold
appraisals to which she now finds herself subjected, those which free men may fittingly bestow upon a slave; she inclines her head
submissively as she passes. Free men; should they stop her, perhaps to question her, or inquire after directions, she falls to her
knees before them; then, later, aroused, excited, trembling, breathless, she returns to her home and enters her compartment,
perhaps there to throw herself on her couch, to bite and tear at the coverlets, sobbing with unrelieved passion.
The excursions of such women, commonly, grow more bold. Perhaps they take to walking the high bridges, under the Gorean moons.
Perhaps they fall to the noose of a passing tarnsman. Perhaps they attract the attention of a visiting slaver. His men receive their
orders. She is brought to him and subjected to rude assessments. If she is found sufficiently comely she is gagged and hooded, and
slave iron is locked upon her body. When this caravan leaves the city she is carried away with it, another girl, another piece of
merchandise, in chains, bound for a distant market, and a master. Guardsman of Gor, page 184- 185
The slave girl, of course, sees a house much differently than does a free woman. Most simply she sees it as a house, and knows it,
as a house in which she is a slave, whereas the free woman sees it and knows it as a house in which she is free. The houses are,
accordingly, experienced quite differently. The free woman looks into a slave kennel but she, presumably, has never occupied it, the
helpless prisoner behind its bars; the free woman may see chains but she, presumably, has never worn them; she may see the whip
but she, presumably, has never felt it. She sees the door, a device by means of which she gains access to her dwelling, but can it
have the same meaning to her as to one who has been helplessly carried through it, as a slave? Similarly, the free woman passes
through that door whenever she wishes. She does not give it a second thought. It is only a door. To the slave, on the other hand, it
is the portal to her master's house. It is, thus, a significant border in her world. Commonly, if the master is home, and she is not
under orders, as in, say, running an errand, or conducting regular business, such as shopping or gardening, she must, on her knees,
beg his permission to leave the house, usually specifying her itinerary and when she expects to return.
Similarly a free woman may look upon a wall and see there merely the side of a room, but the slave girl may see there an obdurate
barrier, beyond which she cannot run, against which she could be thrown and stripped, a barrier at the foot of which, crouching in
terror, she would have to await the pleasure of her master. The free woman may look upon the smooth tiles flooring a room but,
presumably, she has never felt them on her naked flesh, on her belly, as she has kissed the feet of her master. Too, presumably,
she will never have been beaten upon them, or forced, as a discipline,to clean them, prone, her hands bound behind her, a small
brush held in her teeth. The free woman looks upon a stairwell. She sees a stairwell. The slave girl may also see a place where she,
if her master wishes, may be conveniently tied to a railing and raped. Much sex between a master and his slave is spontaneous and
casual, occurring whenever the master wishes, and not unoften when the slave begs for it. The sweetness of these sometimes
sudden and transient ravishings, of course, does not replace the lengthy feasts of love of which the Gorean is fond; rather, they
merely supplement them. They are, in their way, merely another attestation of the condition of the girl, that she is truly a slave and
must be ready, at any time, and in any place, to serve her master's pleasure. The same girl who, fed by hand, is lengthily ravished
over a period of Ahn, or even of a day or two, may, at another time, be merely told to stretch herself over a table. She will do so,
immediately, unquestioningly. She is a slave.
And how wondrously different does the bedroom of the male seem to the free woman than it does to the slave. She looks upon the
couch of the male. She sees the slave ring at its foot. She sees the furs of love, rolled against the side of the wall. She sees the
lamp. She sees, coiled beneath the slave ring, a chain, with a collar or shackles. She sees the whip. But these things, as she is free,
mean little to her. Imagine, however, if you will, her emotions if she entered that room as a slave girl, stripped and rightless, bearing
on her upper thigh, just under her hip, the mark of bondage, her throat clasped in the light, gleaming, close-fitting, locked circlet of a
slave. How different, then, would that room seem to her! She is ordered to spread the furs of love. She does so, beneath the slave
She must light the lamp. She does so. She returns then to the furs of love, and kneels upon them. She is then fastened by her
master to the slave ring. Perhaps this is merely done by a single ankle ring, on her left ankle, or perhaps both of her ankles are
shackled, the length of chain running through the slave ring. If this is done, of course, the chaining is such that her ankles may be
thrust widely, even painfully apart. Or perhaps the collar is locked upon her, with its dependent chain. She, then, feels the drag of
the chain against her collar, and the chain, with its heavy links, between her bared breasts; she knows well that she is chained.
Though the light of the lamp is soft and sensuous, it is quite adequate, by design, to illuminate her; she is under no delusion on this
score; her tiniest movements and her subtlest expressions, she knows, will be fully visible to her master. This is as it should be; she
is his slave. Some free women, incidentally, insist on making love in the dark, because of their modesty. If such a woman should be
enslaved, however, she must learn to perform in full illumination, whether it be in the soft light of a common ravishment lamp or on a
dock at midday. Guardsman of Gor, page 201-202
The slave girl, it might be mentioned, in connection with the "releasing effects" of the collar, is relieved of many social pressures to
which the free woman, because of her freedom, must remain subject. The free woman, for example, may fear that men will learn of
her sexual vitality. It would not do for her for them to know that she, that lofty creature, on the couch, is a helpless, panting, licking
she-sleen. The slave girl, on the other hand, does not have this problem. She knows that she belongs to a category of women
toward which respect need not be shown, and will not be shown. She, a slave, she knows, is expected to be an obedient, lascivious
animal in her master's furs or, if permitted, on her master's couch. Indeed, she will be punished severely, if she is not. She is thus
free, irreservedly, joyfully, gloriously, to revel in her sensuality. Furthermore, she knows that her most intimate performances and
qualities are likely to be discussed openly and with candor by her master with others, perhaps even in her presence. Accordingly,
rather than becoming ashamed of her sexual nature, she becomes quite proud of it, and often becomes competitive with her
imbonded sisters, vying with them to become the most desirable slave in the house, or in the circle of her friends. Guardsman of Gor,
"I shall not expatiate on what manner of place this is" said Ginger, "for you, yourself, shall soon learn, and well. And this is not how
they treat all women. Women on this world, most of them, enjoy a status and freedom of which you, from Earth, cannot even
conceive. Their raiment is splendid, their station is lofty, their mien is noble, their prestige is boundless. Dread them, and fear them---
The girl looked at her, frightened.
"For you are not such a woman," said Ginger.
The girl clutched the chain, kneeling on the block.
"No," said Ginger, "you are not such a woman. You are less than the dust beneath their feet."
"I---I do not understand," said the girl, stammering.
"You are the sort of woman who will wear rags,' said Ginger, "who will rejoice if a crust of bread is thrust in your mouth." Savages of
Gor, page 129
"I betrayed myself," she said.
"Let us think clearly about this matter," I suggested.
"Your assertion might be construed as meaning that you had committed some treason against yourself, or, perhaps, as meaning
merely that you had revealed, or manifested, yourself. Let us consider, first, the matter of treason. A free woman might, possibly,
feel that she had betrayed herself, in this sense, if she had so yielded to a man as to supply him with some perhaps subtle hint as
to the latency of her slave reflexes. A slave girl, on the other hand, cannot commit treason against herself in this sense, for she is a
slave. To commit this type of treason one must have a right, say, to deceive others as to one's sensuality, to conceal one's sexuality,
and so on. The slave girl, an owned animal, under the command of her master, does not have this sort of right. Indeed, she has no
rights. Accordingly, she cannot commit this sort of reason Her legal status precludes its possibility. She may, of course, rationally,
fear the consequences of her responsiveness being discovered, thus increasing, perhaps to her terror, in a slave culture, her
desirability. Similarly she may lie or attempt to lie, about her responsiveness, but she is then of course, merely a lying slave and,
when found out, Will be treated accordingly."
"Such treason, then," she said, "can be committed only by a free woman."
"Yes," I said. "It is a luxury not permitted to the slave."
"It is a function only of the free woman's right to lie, and defraud, others?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "It is possible, of course, for the slave, subjectively, psychologically, to feel that she has committed this treason, for she
may, mistakenly, be still regarding herself implicitly, as a free woman."
"But she cannot, in fact, have committed it, because she is a slave?" asked the girl.
"Yes," I said.
"I understand, Master," she said, bitterly.
"You see," I said, "you were still regarding yourself, implicitly, at least at the moment, as a free woman, or, perhaps better, more
narrowly, as retaining at least one of the rights of a free woman." Savages of Gor, page 189-190
"An ignorant free woman is a commonplace," I said. "An ignorant slave is an absurdity." Savages of Gor, page 196
I regarded her. She was quite beautiful, and her beauty was a thousand times more exciting than that of a free woman, for she was
a slave. Savages of Gor, page 232
I chewed the last of the pemmican. Too, I thought I would, before giving her to such a taverner, have her ears pierced. This would,
in effect, guarantee that she would remain always only a slave on Gor. Gorean men find pierced ears, as do many men of Earth,
stimulatory. To the Gorean such ear-piercing speaks blatantly of bondage. Penetration of a woman's flesh is publicly symbolized, in
her very body; the wounds inflicted on her were intended and deliberate; and her body has now been prepared to bear, fastened in
its very flesh, barbaric ornamentation. These things all speak to the Gorean of the female slave. In a woman who is truly free such
things, of course, would be unthinkable. Many free women, knowing how such things are viewed by Gorean men, fear them more
than the brand and collar. Slave girls, of course, once they have begun to learn their collars, and once they have begun to learn that
they are truly slaves, and what t might mean, become very vain and proud over the piercing of their ears. They know that it makes
them more attractive to men, and significantly so, and, too, they relish being able, with earrings, to make themselves even more
beautiful and exciting. Slave girls tend to be very proud and happy in their sexuality. This type of pleasure, commonly denied to the
free woman, is probably an additional reason why they tend to hate their helplessly imbonded sisters. Blood Brothers of Gor, page
Do masters ever love their slaves?" she asked.
"Often," I said. Indeed, a female slave is the easiest of all women to love; too, of course, she is the most natural, of all women to
love; these things have to do with the equations of nature, in particular with those of dominance and submission. To a man a female
slave is a dream come true. A free woman, understandably, cannot even begin to compete with a female slave for a man's love. That
is perhaps another reason why free women hate their vulnerable, imbonded sisters. If a free woman would assure herself of a
man's love she could not do better than, in effect, become his slave. She can beg of him, if she senses in herself he true bondage of
love, and enslavement ceremony, in which she proclaims herself, and becomes, his slave. In their most secret and intimate relations
thereafter she lives and loves as his slave. If a woman fears to do this she may, on an experimental basis, resort to limited self-
contracting, in which her documents will contain stated termination dates. Thus, by her own free will, she becomes a slave for a
specific period, ranging usually from an evening to a year. The woman enters into this arrangement freely; she cannot, of course,
withdraw from it in the same way. The reason for this is clear. As soon as the words are spoken, or her signature is placed on the
pertinent document, or documents, she is no longer a free person. She is then only a slave, an animal, no longer with any legal
powers whatsoever. She is, then, until the completion of the contractual period, unto the expiration date of the arrangement, totally
subject to the will of her master. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 101, 102
"In what way," I asked, "could a slave girl possibly have more power than a free woman?"
She smiled. She lowered her head, demurely. "Some men," she said, "find us attractive."
"That is true," I said. How unpretentiously, and delicately, she had put this point. I could not help, in spite of myself, but agree with
her. How could the capacity of a free woman to stimulate male desire even begin to compare with that of the female slave? The
female slave, in her helplessness, her vulnerability and beauty, is the most exciting and desirable of all females. Even to look upon
one can drive a man mad with passion.
"Even a magnet," she said, "which may be moved about, and put where one wishes, has a little power."
"Yes," I said. How exciting. I marvelled, are such women. How natural it is that they should find themselves, perhaps to their horror,
perhaps to their deep excitement and pleasure, so stimulatory to male desire. Who can begin to quantify, or measure, the
attractiveness of the female slave? Does she not seem to be the object designed by nature to be at the feet of men? Wars are
fought to obtain them. Tributes, in part, are levied in terms of them, along with gold and Sa-Tarna grain.
"I can see," I said, "that the female slave, in her beauty, may possess, upon occasion, at least, some meager particle of power
which does not appertain to the free woman."
"I think so," she said.
My response, I thought, appropriately dismissed from serious consideration the fantastic desirability and attractiveness of the female
slave. Let them now grow arrogant. Let them continue to fear the whip.
"But how," I asked, "in what other way, other than in possible attractiveness and desirability, could a slave have more power than a
"If one can do things another cannot, and if one is permitted to do things which another, in effect, could not, then, I suppose, one
has, in a sense, powers which the other does not."
"I see," I said. "Powers in the sense of capacities and permissions."
"Yes," she said. "Slave girls, for example, can, and must do things and perform acts, superbly, lovingly and unquestioningly, which
would be forbidden to free woman, or unthinkable for them. Indeed, some of her performances expected of slave girls, and some of
the services rendered by them to their masters, are doubtless beyond even the ken of our ignorant free sisters. They probably do
not even suspect their nature."
"They may suspect," I smiled. The liberties, in certain senses, permitted to slave girls doubtless constituted as additional reason why
free women so hated and envied them. The free woman, in a sense, is paradoxical. She professes to despise the slave girl; she
professes to loathe her and hold her in contempt; but too, obviously, she is almost insanely jealous of her. Can it be that she, too, in
her secret heart, wishes to kneel before a man, naked and in his collar, totally subject to his will?
"But some of the things they probably do not even know of," she said.
"That is probably true," I said. It was true that free women tended to be somewhat naive and ignorant. Some of them, at any rate,
when enslaved, seemed quite startled to discover the nature of some of the even routine performances and services that would
now be expected of them.
"Too," said he girl, "we are better at certain things than free women, such as serving and pleasing men."
"That is true," I said. The docility, deference and perfection of a slave girl's service are legendary. They had better be. She is owned.
Too, the intimate and fantastic pleasures they can give men are well known, at least among free men.
"Too," she said, "we are permitted to act in certain ways in which I think it would be unlikely that a free woman could, or would act."
Blood Brothers of Gor, page 105, 106
The commercial value of long hair might also be mentioned. Aside from the obvious fact that it might improve the price of a girl in her
sale or resale, it can also be sheared and sold. Free women sometimes buy hair for wigs or falls, and, although the hair they
purchase is always certified as coming only from free women, there is little doubt that it is often taken from female slaves.
Too, interestingly, female hair is prized for catapult ropes. It is not only stronger and more resistant than hemp but it possesses
better properties of weather resistance, being less affected by moisture and temperature changes. When a city is under siege,
particularly if the siege is prolonged, even free women will often have their hair shorn, contributing it then to the supplies for
municipal defense. Considering the usual vanity of Goreans, both male and female, over their appearance, this is a patriotic sacrifice
of no little magnitude. It is particularly significant when one understands that the women know very well that if they fall into the
hands of the enemy, with their hair shorn, they may expect to be sold into low slaveries, such as agricultural servitudes or those of
the mills. Sometimes as time passes, the foremen in such places come to realize that they have an incredible beauty in their power.
They often hide such women from their superiors, keeping them for themselves. An additional advantage of long hair in a female
slave, incidentally, is that it gives the master additional power over her, for, as he is the master, it is his decision whether or not she
shall be able to keep it. One of the commands a Gorean woman most fears to hear, whether she is a captive or a slave, is "Shear
her." Blood Brothers of Gor, page 245- 246
Mira had fallen upon the porridge with gusto. She now, with her fingers and tongue, was wiping the bowl clean. She did not eat now
as might a rich, free woman, from a golden service with Turian prongs, sumptuously, in some fine house. She ate now as a slave,
and was grateful for her feeding. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 354
I wondered if Iwoso had speculated on why their heads had been left uncovered, or why we had not inclosed one girl completely
and left the head of the other free, why we had treated the slave and the free woman identically. Slave girls, when being
transported in sacks, for example, on wagons or on the shoulders of men, are usually completely within the sack, it being tied shut
over their head. This helps keep the girl in ignorance as to her whereabouts and what is going on about her. This is thought suitable
for slaves. She is also, after having been in a sack for a time, likely to be extremely grateful to he who releases her and very fearful
that he might, if displeased with her, return her to it. Also, of course, many sorts of commodities on Gor are transported in this
fashion. In the cities, of course, when inserting girls within sack bonds, it is common to observe a difference, where it exists,
between a slave and a free woman. Commonly a slave would be inclosed completely in the sack and a free woman, if no risk were
involved in doing it, would be bound in the sack only from the neck down. This kind of difference in binding, or shackling, in which the
free woman wears easier or more comfortable bonds than the slave, is in deference to the status of the free woman. When she,
too, is enslaved, then, of course, she and the slave will be likely to wear identical bonds. To be sure, much depends on context.
For example, if the two sacks were to be dragged in the dust behind tharlarion then it might be the case that the free woman, for
her greater comfort, would be enclosed completely in the leather confinement and the slave would be bound only from the neck
down, this once again and again to the determent of the slave, observing the distinction in not be familiar with binding distinctions in
bindings between the. Iwoso, of course, would presumably not be familiar with binding distinctions in the cities. Had she, thus, been
bound more leniently than Bloketu, particularly since she was being bound by Hci, who seemed to bear her great hatred, she might
have become suspicious Blood Brothers of Gor, page 397
" You have called me 'Mistress,'" I said. "Why?"
"That is the customary way in which girls such as I address all free women," she said.
"What sort of girl are you?" I asked.
"A good girl, I hope, Mistress," she said. "I will try to serve you well."
"Are you a slave?" I whispered.
"Yes, Mistress," she said. Kajira of Gor, page 47
"And the flowers," said the girl, "are talenders. They are a beautiful flower. They are often associated with love."
"They are very pretty," I said.
"Some free women do not approve of slaves being permitted to wear talenders," she said, "or being permitted to have a
representation of them, like these of their frocks. Yet slaves do often wear them, the masters permitting it, and they are not an
uncommon motif, the masters seeing to it, on their garments."
'Why do free women object?" I asked.
"They feel that a slave, who must love whomever she is commanded to love, can know nothing of love." Kajira of Gor, page 48
"But why would I wish to arouse a man?" I asked.
The girl looked at me, puzzled. "Perhaps the needs of Mistress might be much upon her," she said. "Perhaps she might wish to be
taken and overwhelmed in his arms, and forced to surrender to him."
"I do not understand," I said, as though horrified.
"That is because Mistress is free," she said.
I had understood only too well, of course. But I was terrified to even think such thoughts.
"Slaves, I suppose, occasionally have recourse to such devices," I said, I was eager to learn.
"A device such as that with the fresh fruit," she said, "is more appropriate to a free woman. We do have at our disposal, as slaves,
however, a number and variety of begging signals, such things as grovelling and moaning, and bringing bonds to him in our teeth,
wherewith we may endeavour to call our needs to his attention." Kajira of Gor, page 61-61
"You need not call me, 'Mistress,'" I said. "You may call me 'Tiffany'."
"No, please, Mistress!" said the girl, turning white. "Please, no!"
"Very well," I said. I saw that she was under some strict and superb discipline.
"At the very least," I said, "I want us to be friends."
"No, Mistress, please,' she said.
"But you are a girl from Earth," I said. "You are an American. I am an American."
"Please, no, Mistress,' she begged.
"You are from Cincinnati, Ohio, in America," I said.
"I am a female slave," she said.
"Why can we not be friends?" I asked.
"You are free, and I am only a slave," she said. Kajira of Gor, page 63
I did not want to die.
I heard the music in the distance.
I wished that I were a slave, that I might have a chance for life, that I might have the opportunity to convince a master somehow, in
any way possible, that I might be worth sparing. But I was a free woman and would be subjected only to the cold and inhuman
mercies of the law. Kajira of Gor, page 190
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. “I demand my immediate freedom!”
One of the slave girls, one kneeling a few feet away, before us and to our right, at a table, one of those who was naked, save for
her collar, laughed. Then she turned white with fear. She had laughed at a free woman. Samos turned to a guard and pointed at the
offending slave. “Fifteen lashes,” he said. The girl shook her head in misery. She whimpered with terror. These would be lashes, she
knew, with a Gorean slave whip. It is an efficient instrument for disciplining women. Players of Gor, page 11
"A free woman is present," I said to Feiqa. Immediately she knelt, "Head to the ground," I whispered to her. Immediately she
complied. Behind the wagon Tula, frightened, immediately followed her example. Both must learn that they were nothing in the sight
of free persons. Mercenaries of Gor, page 72
"You are not interested in free females?" she said.
"Not particularly," I reminded her. This is not that unusual in one who has tasted slaves. As women, there is no comparison between
a free women and imbonded sister. Perhaps that is why free women so hate slaves. To be sire there is something to be said for free
women. It is enjoyable to capture, enslave and train them. That is interesting. But then, of course, in a matter of time, one is not
then dealing any longer with free woman, but only another slave. Mercenaries of Gor, page 319
The dancing of a slave is a thousand times more sensuous than that of a free woman because of the incredible meanings involved,
the additional richness which this furnishes, the explosive significance of this comprehension, that she who dances is owned, and,
theoretically, could be owned by you. Dancer of Gor, page 192
Once a free woman came to watch, for a moment, I dared not meet her eyes, but, too, I did not falter in my dance, or beauty;
indeed, I tried to show her, lovingly, as one woman to another, what a woman could be, even a lowly slave, especially a lowly slave.
She hurried away, trembling with her robes. I wondered if sometimes she, too, would care to wear a collar, and move so before
men. Dancer of Gor, page 285
Some Gorean "coaches," and fee carts, not many, are slung on layers of leather. This gives a reasonably smooth ride but the
swaying, until one accommodates oneself to it, can induce nausea, in effect, seasickness. This seems to be particularly the case with
free women, who are notoriously delicate and given to imaginary complaints.
It is interesting to not that this "delicacy," this pretentious frailty, or what not, and such "complaints," usually disappear as soon as
they have been enslaved. That is probably because they are then where they belong, in their place in nature. Too, looking up from
their knees at their master they may realize he has little patience for such things. Similarly, circumstances can apparently make a
great deal of difference. For example, it has been noted that the same person who makes a disgusting spectacle of herself as a free
person traveling one way on a leather-slung fee cart is likely on the return journey, if then a slave, perhaps tied in a sack, or placed
hooded, and bound, hand and foot, on the floor of such a cart, between the feet of the passengers on opposite benches, is likely to
remain orally continent, even desperately so. If she does not, of course, she, within the sack or hood, heard the consequences of
her own actions, after which she is likely to be kicked or struck while still inside the sack, or beaten while still in the hood, after which
the sack might be hung over the back of the fee cart or she herself bound vulnerably on her stomach, her upper body over its rear
guard rail. Afterwards, too, of course, eventually, she will clean both herself and the sack, or hood, thoroughly, before crawling back
into the sack, to again become its prisoner, or having the hood again drawn over her head and having it fastened on her. She
seldom had the same accident twice. Renegades of Gor, page 19-20
Her toenails were not painted, of course. Such is almost unheard of among Gorean free women and is rare even among slaves. The
usual Gorean position on the matter is that toenails and fingernails are not, say, red by nature and thus should not be made to
appear as if they were. They also tend to frown on the dyeing of hair. On the other hand, the ornamentation, and adornment, of
slaves by means such as jewelry, cosmetics, for example, lipstick and eye shadow, perfume, and such, is common, particularly in the
evening. Also, to be sure, her fingernails and toenails might be painted. As she is a domestic animal, she may be adorned in any way
one pleases. Vagabonds of Gor, page 186
I saw a slave girl pass, in a brief, brown tunic, her back straight, her beauty protestingly full within her tiny, tight garment, balancing
a jar on her head with one hand. The bottom of the jar rested in a sort of impoverished shallow stand or mount, formed of a
dampened, wrapped towel. In Schendi the white slave girls of black masters are sometimes taught to carry such vessels on their
heads without the use of their hands or such devices as the towel. And woe to the girl who drops it. Such exercises are good for a
girl's posture. To be sure, the lower caste black women of Schendi and the interior do such things commonly. Players of Gor, page 10
“Have you read,” I asked, “the Manuals of the Pens of Mira, Leonora´s Compendium, the Songs of Dina, or
Hargon´s The Nature and Arts of the Female Slave?”
“No, Master,” she said, eagerly. Such texts, and numerous others, like them, are sometimes utilized in a girl's training, particularly by
professional slavers. Sometimes they are read aloud in training sessions by a scribe, a whip master in attendance. Most girls are
eager to acquire such knowledge. Indeed, they often ply one another for secrets of love, makeup, costuming, perfuming, dance, and
such, as each wishes to be as perfect for her master as it lies within her power to be. Also, of course, such diligence is prudential on
her part. She will be lashed if she is not pleasing. Also, her very life, literally, is in his hands. Perhaps a word is in order pertaining to
the Songs of Dina. Some free women claim that this book, which is supposedly written by Din, “a slave”, which continues to appear
in various editions and revisions, because of its intelligence and sensitivity, is actually, and must be, written by a free woman. I
suspect, on the other hand, that it is truly by a slave, as is claimed on the title page. There are two reasons for this. First, ‘Dina´ is a
common slave name, often given to girls with the “Dina´ brand, which is a small, roselike brand. Second, the nature of the songs
themselves. No free woman could have sung of chains and love, and the lash, and the glory of masters as she. Those are songs
which, in my opinion, could be written only by a woman who knew what it was to be at a man's slave ring. As to the matter of the
poetess´ intelligence and sensitivity, I surely grant them to the free women, but maintain that such are entirely possible in a slave,
and even more to expected in her than in them. I suspect their position may even be inconsistent. When a woman is enslaved, for
example, surely they do not suppose that her intelligence and sensitivity disappear. Surely they would not expect theirs to do so, if
they had them. No, she still has them. Also, it has been my personal experience, for what it is worth, that slaves are almost always
more intelligent and sensitive than free women, who often, at least until taken in hand, tend to be ignorant, smug, vain and stupid.
Also, it might be noted that many women are enslaved not simply because it is convenient to do so, the ropes are handy, so to
speak, or because they are beautiful of face and figure, but actually because of their intelligence and sensitivity, qualifies which
appeal to many Gorean men. indeed, as I have suggested, the intelligence and sensitivity of many women actually tends to blossom
in bondage, finding within it the apt environment for its expression, for its flowering. This may have to do with such matters as the
release of inhibitions, happiness, fulfillment, and such. I do not know. Players of Gor, page 194
How beautifully walked the girl, how conscious now, how proud, how pleased, she seemed, in the abundance of her beauty, her
desirability and power. How different she was from many of the free women we had seen earlier being led through the streets,
piteous, overfed, stumbling creatures following behind on their leashes, their heads down, loudly bemoaning their fate. But even
those, I suspected, given diet, exercise and training, could in time, be transformed into dreams of pleasure. Players of Gor, page 197
"That is what((the slave wine)) we must drink," I had informed her, noting with satisfaction the expression on her face as she lifted
up the bowl, filled with the foul brew, and had smelled it. "It is not like the delicious beverages quaffed by free women for such
purposes, is it?" I had asked. Witness of Gor, page 413
“Do you like me, Master?” asked Sasi.
“Yes,” I said, “particularly since you have had a bath.”
“Oh, Master,” she said.
I had scrubbed her the first day out from Port Kar, she kneeling in a tub, with sea water and a deck brush.
“What was the last time you had a bath?” I asked her.
“A girl pushed me in the South canal a year ago,” she said.
“I see,” I said.
“Is Master fastidious?” she asked.
“Not particularly,” I said, “but I will expect you to keep yourself reasonably clean from now on. You are no longer a free woman.”
“No, Master,” she said.
“You are now a slave girl,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she said. She knew that slave girls must be attentive to matters of appearance, health, cleanliness and hygiene. They
are no longer free women. Explorers of Gor, page 81
“After a woman has felt anything like that,” she said, “how could she ever go back to being free?”
“Not many would receive the opportunity,” I told her.
She laughed. It was true. Gorean men, on the whole, do not free slaves. The freeing of a girl is almost unheard of. This makes
sense. They are not free women. They are belongings, valuables, slaves, treasures. Who discards precious possessions, who
surrenders treasures? If the slave girl were worth less perhaps she would be freed more. She is too marvelous to free; and if she is
not marvelous, she can be slain. Too, what man who has known the glory and joy of a girl at his feet is likely to wish to exchange
that for the inconvenience and bother of a free woman? No, slave girls, for all practical purposes, are not freed. They will remain in
one collar or another. Men will have it that way. Explorers of Gor, page 90
If I had to make a choice I would suspect that it might be most difficult for a woman to wear her chains in the city of Tharna. There
are complex historical reasons for this. Tharna is one of the few Gorean cities in which the great majority of its women are enslaved.
Normally only about one in forty or so Gorean women in the cities is enslaved. Free Gorean women, incidentally, enjoy a prestige
and status which, it seems to me, is higher than that of the normal Earth woman. Explorers of Gor, page 459
I smiled. Many Goreans regard the sight of a female slave as good luck. Certainly, at the very least, they are joys to look upon. The
presence of a free woman on a ship, incidentally, causes some Gorean sailors uneasiness. Indeed, some, superstitiously, - and
mistakenly, in my opinion, regard them as harbingers of ill fortune. This is probably, from the objective point of view, a function of the
dissension such a woman may produce, particularly on long voyages, and of the alterations in seamanship and conduct which can be
attendant upon her presence on shipboard. For example, knowing that a free woman is on board, and must be accommodated and
protected, can adversely, whether it should or not, affect the decisions of a captain. He might put into shore when it would be best
to remain at sea; he might run when he should fight; when he should be firm, he might vacillate; when he should be strong, he
might be conciliatory and weak.
There have been occasions recorded when a free woman, usually one who has been haughty and troublesome, has been, by order
of the captain, who is supreme on the vessel, simply stripped and enslaved on board. The reservations of Gorean seamen pertaining
to the presence of free women on board, incidentally, do not apply to the presence of slave girls. Such girls are under effective
discipline, and must be pleasing and obedient. If they are not, they know they may be simply thrown overboard. Similarly, they are
commonly available to the crew, to content and please them. Their presence on board is a delight and convenience. The men are
fond of them, regarding them with affection. They are, in effect, pets and mascots. A round of paga and a girl is a pleasant way to
relax after one's watch on deck. Incidentally the reservations held by some Gorean seamen pertaining to free women on board,
also, interestingly, do not hold of free women who are captives. Even the pirates of Earth found uses to which such women could be
put. Guardsman of Gor, page 61-62
More than fifty slave girls, their hair coiffured high on their heads, clad in sleeveless, classic gowns of white silk, were aligned on the
walk nearest the wall containing the iron door, that leading within to the halls of the fortress. To the music of the musicians, near
the iron door, they performed a most decorous dance, slowly and gracefully lifting their arms and turning, facing first one side and
then the other. In their hands they held baskets of flower petals. The dance was the sort that free maidens of a city might perform
to honor and welcome visiting dignitaries, or the ambassador and his entourage, of a foreign city. Had their gowns not been
sleeveless, and had they not been barefoot, and had their throats not been locked in collars, one might have mistaken them for free
women. Guardsman of Gor, page 97
The girl who was serving as the small brunet's keeper withdrew from the chest, and shook out, a flimsy, tiny, diaphanous snatch of
yellow pleasure silk. It was the sort of garment which, commonly, would be worn only by the most lascivious of dancing slaves
writhing before strong, rude men in the lowest taverns on Gor. Free women had been known to faint at the sight, or touch, of such
cloth. In many cities it is a crime to bring such cloth into contact with the flesh of free women. It is just too exciting, and sensuous.
Guardsman of Gor, page 173
Every young man wishes to buy a girl who will appeal, personally, to him. Mothers, in particular, can be nuisances in such respects.
The young man will wish to buy a helplessly passionate, hot-eyed slut whom he can whip-train, on her belly, kissing at his feet, to
his every disposition and pleasure, and the mother will wish to buy him a "sensible girl." It is sometimes difficult for the Gorean
mother, as for the Earth mother, to realize that their little boys have at last become men. Guardsman of Gor, page 186
I again turned my attention to the dancers. Their movements were graceful and decorous. One would scarcely know that they were
slaves, save, of course, that they wore collars and danced their beauty for men. Their movements were lovely, and refined. Free
women might even have been present. This was suitable for the type of party which I had planned. Guardsman of Gor, page 234
"We, too, are slaves," said Ginger, indicating herself and Evelyn. "Do you think free women would be so rudely stripped and brazenly
displayed?" Savages of Gor, page 131
Free women, on the whole, affect to find the professional stage, particularly in its manifestations in the minor forms, unspeakably
disgusting and indecent; they feign horror at the very thought of themselves going on the stage; it would be much the same thing,
surely, as being displayed publicly on a slave platform or slave block. They usually attend performances incognito. Players of Gor,
|This research is done on the series of books written by John Norman, the comments in italics are mine and my point of view.
Woman of Gor
The Gap Between Free Women and Slaves
|With permission from Marcus Ranum