"I free you," said Marlenus, "but I free you that you may be at liberty to go where you will, and do what you wish."
She looked at him, suddenly, her eyes wide, startled.
"You will receive a pension from the state," said Marlenus, "ample to the needs of a woman of High Caste."
"Ubar!" she cried. "Ubar!"
He now spoke to the guards with her. "See that she is in all things treated as the daughter of a former Administrator of Ar."
Claudia, weeping, was conducted from the hall. Assassin of Gor, page 397-398
Following this more business was conducted. I remember among this business arose the matter of more than one hundred exotic slaves from the House of
Cernus, the white-robed girls who had been raised without the knowledge of the existence of men.
"They know nothing of slavery," said Marlenus. "Let them not learn now."
The girls would be treated gently, and brought well into the world of Gor, with as much tenderness as so harsh a society permitted, being freed and
domiciled individually with Gorean families, whose households did not contain slaves. Assassin of Gor, page 398
Of the two hundred remaining double tarns from the victory in the Ubar's race I gave all but one to free Melanie, who had served in the kitchens of Cernus,
and arrange a livelihood for her. With the money remaining over from her purchase price, which was negligible, she, who had been of the Cloth Workers,
could open a shop in Ar, purchase materials, and hire men of her caste to aid her in the work. Assassin of Gor, page 399
Gently he lowered his head and kissed her. She cried out, pressing her head to his shoulder.
He removed from her throat the slave collar.
"No," she said. "Please, no!" She looked at him, suddenly afraid. "No!" she cried. "Keep me! Keep me!"
"Would you consent," asked Relius, "to be the companion of a Warrior?"
"Companion?" she asked.
Relius nodded his head. He held her very gently. She looked at him, unable to comprehend his words.
"It is the hope of Relius," said he, "that the free woman, Virginia, might care for a simple Warrior, one who much loves her, and accept him as her
She could not speak. There were tears bright in her eyes. She began to cry, to laugh.
"Drink with me the cup of the Free Companionship," said Relius, rather sternly.
"Write on the papers," said I, "that on this first day of the restoration of Marlenus of Ar, the slave Vella was by her master, Tarl of Ko-ro-ba, granted her
Hup shrugged, and so endorsed the papers. I signed them, my name in Gorean script, followed by the sign of the city of Ko-ro-ba.
Hup gave me the key to Elizabeth's collar and anklet and I freed her of the steel that marked her slave.
"I will file the papers in the cylinder of documents," said Hup.
I took the free woman, Vella of Gor, Elizabeth Cardwell of Earth, in my arms. Assassins of Gor, page 407
'But my father,' said Vika, 'whose slave she was, and who was of the Caste of Physicians of Treve, loved her very much and asked her to be his Free
Companion.' Vika laughed softly. 'For three years she refused him,' she said.
'Why?' I asked.
'Because she loved him,' said Vika, 'and did not wish him to take for his Free Companion only a lowly Passion Slave.'
'She was a very deep and noble woman,' I said.
Vika made a gesture of disgust. 'She was a fool,' she said. 'How often would a bred slave have a chance of freedom?'
'Seldom indeed,' I admitted.
'But in the end,' said Vika, 'fearing he would slay himself she consented to become his Free Companion.' Vika regarded me closely. Her eyes met mine very
directly. 'I was born free,' she said. 'You must understand that. I am not a bred slave.' Priest-Kings of Gor, page 69
“I am not a slave,” said Verna to Marlenus of Ar, though she wore his collar.
They looked at one another for a long time. she had saved his life in the stockade, interposing her body and weapon, the crossbow, between him and the
maddened, desperate attack of Sarus. He had not struck her, a woman. I had taken his sword from him, and given it to one of my men. Then, she had
turned, and leveled her crossbow at the heart of Marlenus. We could not have stopped her, did she then fire. The Ubar, in chains, stood at her mercy.
“Fire,” he had challenged her, but she had not fired. She had given the crossbow to one of the men of Ar. “I have no wish to kill you,” she had said. Then
she had turned away.
Yesterday, she had returned of her own free will to the beach, and in her power, a captive panther woman, whose name was Hura.
“Take from the throat of this woman,” said Marlenus, “the collar of a slave.” He looked about. “This woman,” he said hoarsely, “is no slave.”
From the belongings of the camp of Marlenus, which had been carried to the stockade, was taken the key to the collar. It was removed from the throat of
Verna, panther girl of the northern forests.
She faced the Ubar, whose slave she had been.
“Free now, my women,” she said.
Marlenus turned about. “Free them,” he ordered.
Verna´s women, startled, were freed of their bonds. They stood on the beach, among the stones, rubbing their wrists. One by one, collars were taken
from their throats. They looked at Verna.
“I am not pleased with you,” said Verna to them. “You much mocked me when I knelt slave, and wore garments imposed upon me by men.” She then
pointed to her ears. “You mocked me, too,” said she, “when rings were fastened in my ears.” She regarded them. :are there any among you,” she said,
“who wish to fight me to the death?”
They shook their heads.
Verna turned to me. “Pierce their ears,” she said, “and put them all in slave silk.”
“Verna,” protested one of the women.
“Do you wish to fight me to the death?” demanded Verna.
“No, Verna,” she said.
“Let it be done as Verna has said,” said I to Thurnock. Orders were given.
In an Ahn, the girls of Verna knelt before her on the beach. Each wore only clinging, diaphanous slave silk. In their eyes were tears. In the ears of each,
fastened through the lobes of each, were earrings, of a sort attractive in each woman.
The skins of the women who had protested “Verna!” were now worn by Verna herself.
She strode before them on the beach, looking at them. “You would make beautiful slave girls,” she told them.
I saw that the woman called Rena, whom I had used in Marlenus´ camp, before departing it, was especially beautiful.
I sat in the captain´s chair, in authority, but cripples, huddled in blankets, bitter. I knew that I was an important man, but I could not move the left side of
It was all for nothing.
“You,” challenged Verna to the girl who had protested, “how do you like the feel of slave silk?”
She looked down.
“Speak!” ordered Verna.
“It makes me feel naked before a man,” she said.
“Do you wish to feel his hands, and his mouth, on your body?” she asked.
“Yes!” she cried, miserably, kneeling.
Verna turned and pointed out one of my men, an oarsmen. “Go to him and serve his pleasure,” ordered Verna.
“Verna!” cried the girl, miserably.
“Go!” ordered Verna.
The panther girl fled to the arms of the oarsmen. He threw her over his shoulder and walked to the sand at the foot of the beach.
“You will learn, all of you,” said Verna, “as I learned what it is to be a woman.”
One by one, she ordered the girls to serve the pleasure of oarsmen. The girl, Rena, fled instead to me, and pressed her lips to my hand.
“Do as Verna tells you,” I told her.
She kissed my hand again, and fled to him whom Verna had indicated she must serve.
Their cries of pleasure carried to me.
Marlenus regarded Verna. “Will you, too,” he asked, “not serve?”
“I know already what it is to be a woman,” she said. “You have taught me.”
He reached out his hand, to touch her. I had not seen so tender a gesture in the Ubar. I had not thought such a movement to be within him.
“No,” she said, stepping back. “No.”
He withdrew his hand.
“I fear your touch, Marlenus,” she said. “I now what you can do to me.”
He regarded her.
“I am not your slave,” she said.
“The throne of the Ubara of Ar,” he said, “is empty.
They looked at one another.
“Thank you,” she said, “Ubar.”
“I will have all arrangements made,” he said, “for your investiture as Ubara of Ar.”
“But,” she said, “Marlenus, I do not wish to be Ubara of Ar.”
His men gasped. My men could not speak. I, too, was struck with silence.
To be Ubara of Ar was the most glorious thing to which a woman might aspire. It meant that she would be the richest and most powerful woman on Gor,
that armies and navies, and tarn cavalries, could move upon her very word, that the taxes of an empire the wealthiest on Gor could be laid at her feet,
that the most precious of gems and jewelries might be hers, that she would be the most envied woman on the planet.
“I have the forests,” she said.
Marlenus could not speak.
“It seems,” he said, :that I am not always victorious.”
“No,” she said, “Marlenus, you have been victorious.”
He looked at her, puzzled.
“I love you,” she said. “I loved you even before I knew you, but I will not wear your collar and I will not share your throne.”
“I do not understand,” he said. I had not thought, ever, to see the Ubar as he stood there, looming over this woman, whom he might, did he choose,
seize and own, but standing there numb, not understanding.”
“You do not understand,” said she, “because I am a woman.”
He shook his head.
“It is called freedom,” she said.
Then Verna turned away from him, in the skins of a panther woman. “I shall wait for my women in the forest,” she said. “Tell them to find me there.”
“Wait!” said Marlenus of Ar. His voice was agonized. His hand lifted, as though to beg her to return with him.
I was startled. Never had I understood that the Ubar of Ar could be thus. He had cared, he then understood, and we, too, for this lonely, proud, beautiful
“Yes?” asked Verna, turning to regard him. in her eyes, too, I thought I saw moisture.
Whatever Marlenus might have said to her, he did not say. He stood still for a moment, and then straightened himself. With one hand he tore from his
throat the leather and claws he wore there. I saw that among those barbaric ornaments was a ring. I gasped, for it was the seal of Ar, the signet of
Glorious Ar. He threw it to Verna, as a bauble.
She caught it.
“With that,” he said, “you are safe in the realm of Ar. With that you can command the power of the city. This is as the word of the Ubar. With this you can
buy supplies. With this you can command soldiers. Any who comes upon you and see this ring will know that behind you stands the power of Ar.”
“I do not want it,” she said.
“Wear it,” said Marlenus, “for me.”
Verna smiled. “Then,” said she, “I want it.” She tied the ring on a bit of leather about her neck.
“The Ubara of Ar,” said he,” might wear such a ring.”
“I have the forests,” she said. “Are they not more beautiful even that the city of Ar?”
They regarded one another.
“I will never see you again,” said Marlenus.
Verna shrugged. “Perhaps not,” she said. “But perhaps you will.”
He looked at her.
“Perhaps, sometime,” she said. “I will trek to Ar. I have heard that it is a fine city.”
“And perhaps,” said she, “from time to time, you might come again to hunt in the northern forests.”
“Yes,” he said. “Such is my intention.”
“Good,” she said. “Perhaps, sometimes, we can hunt together.”
Then she turned to depart.
“I wish you well. Woman,” said Marlenus of Ar.
She turned to face him, and smiled. “I, too,” said she, “wish you well.” Hunters of Gor ,page 299 to 302
Grenna, in her tatters of white wool, her hands tied behind her back, knelt before me, head to the sand. The severed coffle leather was still knotted about
“Does she please you?” I asked Arn.
“She does,” said Arn.
“She is yours,” I told him, giving him Grenna. “Remove her collar,” I told Thurnock. The peasant giant did so.
Then Arn summoned his men, those who accompanied me. “I depart,” said he.
“I wish you well, Arn,” I said, “and the others, too.”
He began to leave the beach. Grenna looked wildly after him. Then, hands still tied behind her back, she ran to him.
“Master,” she said.
He looked at her. “I am an outlaw,” said he. “I have little use for a slave.”
She stood there, bewildered. “I find you beautiful,” said Arn. “I desire you.”
“I do not understand,” she stammered.
He turned her about. With his sleen knife he cut the knotted loop of coffle leather from her throat. With his knife he cut the binding fiber from her wrists.
He then held her from behind, by the arms, and kissed her, gently, on the right side of her throat.
Still held, she whispered, not looking at him, “Am I not to submit to you?”
He released her arms. “No,” he said. “I free you.”
She turned to face him. she stood on the beach. She rubbed her wrists. She seemed startled.
“I have little time,” said Arn, “I am an outlaw. I must hunt.” He turned away.
“I am Grenna,” she cried suddenly. “I was second to Hura. I, too, am an outlaw. I, too, know the forests. I, too, must hunt.”
Arn turned and faced her. “Do you find me pleasing?” he asked.
“I do,” said she, “Arn.”
“On my head,” said Arn, “I wear the degradation strip.”
“Let me, too, so shave my head,” said she.
He smiled. “I must hunt,” he said.
She smiled at him. “I must hunt, too,” she said.
Arn extended her his hand. “Come,” he said, “let us hunt together.”
Arn and Grenna, followed by his men, entered the forest, and disappeared. Hunters of Gor ,page 305
“Let the slave Tina stand before me,” said I.
Tina, in my collar, in white wool, stood before me.
“To a slave,” said I, “I owe much, and my men, too.”
“Nothing is owed to a slave,” said Tina, her head was down.
“You cannot return to Lydius,” I said. “There you would live only as a slave.”
“Master?” she asked.
Turus stood behind her. About his left wrist was the amethyst-studded wristlet.
“In Port Kar,” said I, “there is a caste of thieves. It is the only know caste of thieves on Gor.”
She looked at me.
“You will have little difficulty,” I said, “in earning entrance into that caste.”
“I have seen the thief´s brand!” she cried. “It is beautiful!”
It was a tiny, three-pronged brand, burned into the face over the right cheekbone. I had seen it several times, once on one who worked for the
mysterious Others, a member of a crew of a black ship, once encountered in the mountains of the Voltai, not far from great Ar itself. The caste of thieves
was important to Port Kar, and eve honored. It represented a skill which in the city was held in high repute. Indeed, so jealous of their prerogatives were
the caste of thieves that they often hunted thieves who did not belong to the caste, and slew them, throwing their bodies to the urts in the canals.
Indeed, there was less thievery in Port Kar than there might have been were there no caste of thieves in the city. They protected, jealously, their own
territories from amateur competition. Ear notching and mutilation, common punishment on Gor for thieves, were not found in Port Kar. The caste was too
powerful. On the other hand, it was regarded as permissible to slay a male thief or take a female thief slave if the culprit could be apprehended and a
caste member, was to be remanded to the police of the arsenal. If found guilty in the court of the arsenal, the male thief would be sentenced, for a week
to a year, to hard labor in the arsenal or on the wharves; the female thief would be sentenced to service, for a week to a year, in a straw-strewn cell in
one of Port Kar´s penal brothels. They are chained by the left ankle to a ring in the stone. Their food is that of a galley slave, peas, black bread and
onions. If they serve well, however, their customers often bring them a bit of meat or fruit. Few thieves of Port Kar have not served time, depending on
their sex, either in the arsenal or on the wharves, or in the brothels.
I doubted, however, that Tina would be often caught.
“Remove her collar,” I told Thurnock.
Tina´s collar was removed. She was radiant. “Will I see you, Turus, in Port Kar?” she asked.
“Yes, little wench,” said he, taking her in his arms.
“I would not have minded much,” said she, “if he had given me to you, as your slave!”
“You have well earned your freedom, wench,” said Turus.
“Oh!´ she cried.
He had reached into her garment and removed his amethyst-studded bracelet, from where she had slipped it.
She looked at him, offended.
Then she laughed. “Your purse!” she cried. She flung it to him, and sped down the beach laughing, toward the longboat, that would take us back to the
He pursued her for a moment, bend down to pick up a rock and sailed it after her. It stung her, smartly, below the small of the back, on the left side. She
turned about, tears in her eyes.
“I shall see you in Port Kar!´ he cried.
“Yes,” she said, “you beast! You will! You will!”
He took a step toward her, and she stumbled away, and fell against the longboat, and then, climbed into it, laughing, watching him. “I´m free!” she called.
“Tina is free!”
He ran suddenly toward her, and she tried to scramble away, climbing over the thwarts, but he caught her by the scruff of the tunic and pulled her under
the water. He dragged her, holding her by the hair under water until he came to the beach. Then, she gasping, soaked, he wet from the chest down, he
threw her to the sand. I saw them fall to kissing and touching. No longer did the little thief reach for his purse or his wristlet. Her garment beneath her in
the wet sand, she reached now for his lips, his head and body, touching him and crying out.
There was laughter from my men, and those of Marlenus. I expected that Tina and handsome, young Turus would see much of one another in Port Kar,
jewel of gleaming Thassa. I saw her small body leaping helplessly to his touch.
“I love you,” she cried.
“I love you,” said he. “I love you, sweet wench!” Hunters of Gor, page 304, 305
”Within five days,” she said, “ as I tried to return to Ar, I was sheltered by an itinerant leather worker, who did not believe, of course, that I was the
daughter of Marlenus of Ar. He treated me well the first evening, with gentleness and honor. I was grateful. In the morning, to his laughter, I awakened.
His collar was on my throat.” She looked at me, angrily. “He then used me well. Do you understand? He forced me to yield to him, I, the daughter of
Marlenus of Ar, he only a leather worker. Afterwards he whipped me. He taught me to obey. At night he chained me. He sold me to a salt merchant.” She
regarded me. “I have had many masters,” she said.
“Among them, “I Said, “Rask of Treve.”
She stiffened. “I served him well,” she said. “I was given no choice. It was he who branded me.” She tossed her head. “Until then, many masters had
regarded me as too beautiful to brand.”
“They were fools,” said Samos. “A brand improves a slave.”
She put her head in the air. I had no doubt that this was one of the most beautiful women in Gor.
“It is because of you, I gather,” said she to me, “that I have been permitted clothing for this interview. Further, I have you to thank, I gather, that I have
been given the opportunity to wash the stink of the pens from my body.”
I said nothing.
“The cages are not pleasant,” she said. “ My cage measures four paces by four paces. In it are twenty girls. Food is thrown to us from above. We drink
from a trough.”
“Shall I have her whipped?” asked Samos.
“No,” I said.
“Rask of Treve gave me to a panther girl in his camp, one named Verna. I was taken to the northern forests. My present master, noble Samos of Port Kar,
purchased me at the shore of Thassa. I was brought to Port Kar chained top a ring in the hold of his ship. Here, in spite of my birth, I was placed in a pen
with common girls.”
“You are only another slave,” said Samos.
“I am the daughter of Marlenus of Ar,” she said proudly.
“in the forest,” I said, “it is my understanding that you sued for freedom, begging in a missive that your father purchase you.”
“Yes,” she said. “I did.”
“Are you aware,” I asked, “that against you, on his sword and on the medallion of Ar, Marlenus swore the oath of disownment?”
“I do not believe it.” She said.
“You are no longer his daughter” I said. “You are now without caste, without Homestone, without family.”
“You lie!” she screamed.
“Kneel to the whip!” said Samos
Piteously she knelt, a slave girl. Her wrists were crossed under her, as though bound, her head was to the floor, the bow of her back was exposed.
She shuddered. I had little doubt but what this slave knew well, and much feared, the disciplining kiss of the Gorean slave lash.
Samos´ sword was in his hand, thrust under the collar of her garment, ready to thrust in and lift, parting the garment, causing the robes to fall to either
side, about her then naked body.
“Do not punish her,” I told Samos.
Samos looked at me, irritably. The slave had not been pleasing.
“To his sandal, Salve,” said Samos.
I felt Talena´s lips press to my sandal. “Forgive me, Master” she whispered.
“Rise,” I said.
She rose to her feet, and stepped back. I could see that she feared Samos.
“You were disowned,” I told her. “Your status now, whether you know this or not, is less than that of the meanest peasant wench, secure in her caste
“I do not believe you,” she said.
“Do you not care for me,” I asked, “Talena.”
She pulled the robes down from her throat. “ I wear a collar,” she said. I saw the simple, circular, grey collar, the collar of the house of Samos, locked
around her throat.
“What is her price?” I asked Samos.
“I paid ten pieces of gold for her,” said Samos.
She seemed startled that she had sold for so small a sum. Yet, for a girl, late in the season, high on the coast of Thassa, it was a marvellous price.
Doubtless she had obtained it only because she was so beautiful. Yet, to be sure, it was less than she would have brought if expertly displayed on the
block in Turia or Ar, or Ko-ro-ba, or Tharna, or Port Kar.
“I will give you fifteen,” I said.
“Very well,” said Samos.
With my right hand I reached into the pouch at my belt and drew out the coins.
I handed them to Samos.
“Free her,” I said.
Samos, with a general key, one used for many of the gray collars, unlocked the band of steel which encircled her lovely throat.
“Am I truly free?” she asked.
“Yes.” I said.
“I should have brought a thousand of gold,” she said. “As daughter of Marlenus of Ar my companion price might be a thousand tarns, five thousand
“You are no longer the daughter of Marlenus of Ar,” I told her.
“You are a liar,” she said. She looked at me contemptuously.
“With you permission,” said Samos, “ I shall withdraw.
“Stay,” said I, “Samos.”
“Very well,” said he.
“Long ago,” said I, “Talena, we cared for each other. We were companions.”
“Irt was a foolish girl, who cared for you,” said Talena. “ I am now a woman.”
“You no longer care for me?” I asked.
She looked at me. “I am free,” she said. “I can speak what I wish. Look at yourself! You cannot even walk. You cannot even move your left arm! You are a
cripple, a cripple! You make me ill! Do you think that one such as I, the daughter of Marlenus of Ar, could care for such a thing? Look upon me. I am
beautiful, Look upon yourself. You are a cripple. Care for you? You are a fool, a fool!”
“Yes,” I said bitterly, “ I am a fool.”
She turned away from me, robes swirling. Then she turned and faced me. Slave!” she sneered.
“ I do not understand,” I said.
“ I took the liberty,” said Samos, “ though at the time I did not know of your injuries, your paralysis, to inform her of what occurred in the delta of the
My right hand clenched. I was furious.
“I am sorry,” said Samos.
‘It is no secret,” I said. “It is known to many.”
“It is a wonder that any man will follow you!” cried Talena. “You betrayed your codes! You are a coward! A fool! You are not worthy of me! That you dare
ask me if I could care for such as you, is to me, a free woman an insult! You chose slavery to death!”
“Why did you tell her of the delta of the Vosk?” I asked Samos.
“So that if there might have been love between you, it would no longer exist,” said Samos.
“You are cruel,” I said.
“Truth is cruel,” said Samos. “She would have to know sooner or later.”
“Why did you tell her?” I asked.
“That she might not care for you and lure you from the service of those whose names we shall not now speak.”
“I could never care for a cripple,” said Talena.
“It remained yet my hope,” said Samos, “to recall you to a lofty service, one dignified and of desperate importance.”
Samos shrugged. “ I did know until too late the consequences of your wounds. I am sorry.”
“Now,” said I, “Samos, I cannot even serve myself.”
“I am sorry,” said Samos.
“Coward! Traitor to your codes! Sleen!” cried Talena.
“All that you say is true,” I told her.
“You did well, I understand,” said Samos,” in the stockade of Sarus of Tyros.”
“I wish to be returned to my father,” said Talena.
I drew forth five pieces of gold. “This money,” said I to Samos, “ is for safe passage for Ar, by guard and tarn, for this woman.”
Talena drew about her face her veil, refastening it. “I shall have the monies returned to you,” she said.
“No,” I said, “take it rather as a gift, as a token of a former affection, once borne to you by one who was honoured to be your companion.”
“She is a she-sleen,” said Samos, “vicious and ignoble.”
“My father would avenge that insult,” she said, coldly, “with the tarn cavalries of Ar.”
“You have been disowned,” said Samos, and turned and left. I still held the five coins in my hand.
“Give me the coins,” said Talena. I held them in my hand, in the palm. She came to me and snatched them away, as loath to touch me. Then she stood and
faced me, the coins in her hand. “How ugly you are,” she said. “ How hideous in your chair!”
I did not speak.
She turned and strode toward the door of the hall. At the portal she stopped, and turned. “In my veins,” she said, “flows the blood of Marlenus of Ar. How
revolting and incredible that one such as you, a coward and betrayer of codes, should have aspired to touch me.” She lifted the coins in her hand. It was
gloved. “My gratitude,” said she, “Sir,” and turned away. Marauders of Gor, page 11 to 16
Once I had been among the finest swordsmen on the planet Gor. Now I was a cripple.
Talena would now be in Ar. How startled, how crushed would she have been, to learn at last, incontrovertibly, that her disownment was true. She had
begged to be purchased, a slave’s act. Marlenus protecting his honor, on his sword and upon the medallion of Ar, had sworn her from him. No longer had
she caste, no longer a Home Stone. The meanest peasant wench, secure in her caste right, would be more than Talena. Even a slave girl had her collar. I
knew that Marlenus would keep her sequestered in the central cylinder, that her shame not reflect upon his glory. She would be in Ar, in effect, a prisoner.
She was no longer entitled even to call its HomeStone her own. Such an act, by one such as she, was subject to public discipline. For it, she might be
suspended naked, on a forty foot rope from one of the high bridges, to be lashed by tarnsmen, sweeping past her in flight. Marauders of Gor, page 16
I saw that her eyes were deep, and very beautiful. She was frightened.
“Precede me to my couch,” I said.
“I am free.” She whispered.
“Collar her,” I said to Thurnock, “and send her to my couch.”
His hand closed on the arm of the thin blond scribe.
“Clitus,” I said, “send Sandra, the dancer, to my couch as well.”
“You freed her, Captain,” smiled Clitus.
“Collar her,” I told him.
“Yes, Captain,” he said. I well remembered Sandra, with her black hair, brownish skin and high cheekbones. I wanted her.
It had been long since I had had a woman.
“Tab,” said I.
“Yes, Captain,” said he
“The two females,” I told him, “have recently been free. Accordingly, as soon as they have been collared, force them to drink slave wine.”
“Yes, Captain,” grinned Tab.
Slave wine is bitter, intentionally so. Its effect lasts for more than a Gorean month. I did not wish the females to conceive. A female slave is taken off slave
wine only when it is her master’s intention to breed her. Marauders of Gor, page 23-24
Thurnus, at the feast, stood up. He lifted a goblet of paga. Tup Ladletender,” said he, “by the rite of the claws of sleen, is my brother. I lift my cup to him.
Let us drink!” The villagers drank. Tup Ladletender rose to his feet. “You have shared with me tonight your paga and your kettle,” said he. “I drink to the
hospitality of Tabuk´s Ford.” There was a cheer. The villagers, and Thurnus, and Ladletender, drank. “And, too, this night,” said Ladletender, “I drink to
one with whom I do not share caste but that which is stronger than caste, the blood of brotherhood, Thurnus, he of Tabuk´s Ford.” There was another
cheer. The villagers, all, drank. Thurnus stood up again. “I ask this free woman,” said he, indicating Sandal Thong, “for whom I muchly care, to accept me in
free companionship.” There was a great cry of pleasure from the villagers.
“But Thurnus,” said she, “as I am now free do I not have. the right to refuse?”
“True,” said Thurnus, puzzled.
“Then, noble Thurnus,” said she, evenly, calmly, “I do refuse. I will not be your companion.”
Thurnus lowered the cup of paga. There was silence in the clearing.
Sandal Thong gently lowered herself to the ground, and lay on her belly before Thurnus. She took his right ankle in her hands and, holding it, pressed her
lips softly down upon his foot, kissing it. She lifted her head, tears in her eyes. “Let me be instead your slave,” she said,
“I offer you companionship,” he said.
“I beg slavery,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“I have been in your arms, Thurnus,” she said. “In your arms I can be only a slave.”
“I do not understand,” he said.
“I would dishonor you,” she said. “In your arms I can behave only as a slave.”
“I see,” said he, caste leader of Tabuk´s Ford.
“The love I bear you, Thurnus,” she said, “is not the love of a free companion, but a hopeless slave girl´s love, a love so deep and rich that she who bears
it can be only her man´s slave.”
“Serve me paga,” said Thurnus. He handed the goblet to Sandal Thong.
She took it and knelt before him, head down, proffering him the goblet. Though she was free, she served as a slave. Villagers gasped. Free women cried
Thurnus set aside the cup.
“Have rope brought, and collar me, Thurnus,” she said. “I am yours.”
“Bring rope,” said Thurnus.
Rope was brought.
Thurnus took the rope, and regarded the girl.
She looked up at him.
“Collar me,” she said.
“If I collar you,” he said, “you are again a slave.”
“Collar me, Master,” she said.
Thurnus wrapped the rope twice about her throat, and knotted it.
Sandal Thong knelt before him, his slave. He seized her in his mighty arms and crushed her to him, raping her lips with the master´s kiss, mighty in its lust
and possession of the collared she, and she clutched him, helplessly, crying out. Her head was back, her lips were parted. He had begun to tear the tunic
from her with his teeth. “Carry me from the light of the fire, Master,” she begged. “But you are a slave,” he laughed. He tore the garment from her and
threw her between the feast fires. She looked up at him, her eyes wild with the passion-submission of the eager slave girl. “As master wills I” she cried,
throwing her head and hair back in the dirt. He leaped to her and, between the feast fires, did lengthy ravishment upon her. Her cries must have carried
beyond the palisaded walls.
When he returned to his place at the feast she crawled to his feet, his slave, and lay there, daring sometimes to touch him delicately on the thigh or knee
with her fingers. Slavefirl of gor, page 239-240
Man owns woman by nature; in a complex society, and in a world with property rights and laws, female slavery, as a legalized fact, is to be expected; it
will occur in any society in which touch is kept with the truths of nature. Gorean law, of course, is complex and latitudinous on these matters. For example,
many women are free, whether wisely or desirably or not, and slavery is not always permanent for a slave girl. Sometimes a girl, winning love, is freed,
perhaps to bear the children of a former master. But the freedom of a former slave girl is always a somewhat tenuous thing. Her thigh still bears the
brand. And, should her ears be pierced, it is almost certain she will, sooner or later, be re-enslaved. It is hard for men to leave a woman who can be a
good slave girl free. She will always dread that in the night men will come again for her, hooding her, carrying her to a distant city, to be again put on the
block of a steaming market, that once again her throat will be encircled by a steel collar and that she will kneel at the feet of a new master. Beasts 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
|Free Women of Different Cultures