I did not blame them. Had I been a free woman of Ar, I, too, would have sought such companionship. To have such a man as Clitus Vitellius I would have accepted his terms. So, too, I think would have any true woman. Surely it is better to have a true man on any terms than to have half a man, or no man at all. Men are masters; if the man be strong, the woman must submit. Given the opportunity to relate to a true man, few women will settle for less. Indeed, true women, in the belly of them, desire to submit to true men. It is an ancient instinct bred into the bellies of beautiful, feminine women.
“Remove your clothing,” would my master say to a high-born free woman, suing to be considered by him in companionship. She would do so, and be assessed. If he was not pleased, he would send her weeping from his presence, clutching the rag of a slave, to don it and return to her dwelling. If he was not displeased he would gesture to the tiles before him where there waited a goblet of slave wine which she, kneeling before him, would eagerly drink. She would serve him that night as a slave. In the morning, she, nude, would prepare and serve to him his breakfast, after which he would make fresh use of her; he would then send her from his presence, first pressing into her hand a coin, usually a copper tarsk or a silver tarsk, commensurate with the quality of her service. Such women went from his quarters proudly, clad in the full regalia of the free woman. They were not discontent. They had been touched by Clitus Vitellius. Some women claimed that they had earned from Clitus Vitellius a tarn disk of gold. Such a coin would buy several girls such as myself. Sometimes a girl, rather than be sent from his presence, would beg to be kept as a collared slave. She would then sign a document of enslavement which, after her signature was affixed, she would be powerless to alter or break, for she would then be only a slave. Clitus Vitellius would commonly keep such a girl for a few days, and then discard her, usually giving her to a friend or selling her. I wondered if such a girl, braceleted, and pulled away from him on her leash, regretted her choice. She was then in bondage, subject to chains and the whip, and the will of men. What had she then to look forward to but the degradation of the sales block, being exposed to men as a slave and being vended in a public market; being owned by a succession of hard masters, accustomed to the management of girls such as she; onerous work and strict discipline; and the continuous exploitation of her body and service? Perhaps, for a woman, the thrill of being owned and commanded, of being at the absolute mercy of a powerful man, knowing that she must obey him, and experiencing, if she be fortunate, incredible, helpless, incomparable love, of the sort which can be felt only by a completely rightless woman, fully and absolutely owned by a man, in his total bondage. But such thoughts would not be likely to be prominent in the mind of a leashed girl, helplessly braceleted, being dragged to her first sale.
I looked at my master. How magnificent he was.
His collar, I had heard, was one of the most sought collars in Ar.
When he strode through the streets free women sometimes threw themselves before him, tearing away their veils and robes, begging for his collar.
He was such a man.
Slave Girl of Gor, pages 154 – 155
from players, a FW has captured Tarl and named Him Brinlar....though she has not made him slave yet.....he's a captured free man.....and being kept as a servant for the time.......this is her, talking to him...
"You will touch me if, and only as, and exactly as, I direct," she said. "I am total Mistress. I shall obtain considerable gratification from you, and you will obtain gratification, if any, only as it pleases me."
" I understand," I said.
" To the silks, my brawny, helpless servant," she said. She then put her small hands in my hair. She drew me to her.
" Please me, " she said.
I then began to address myself to her pleasures. I immersed myself in the exciting, intimate, marvelous, powerful odors of the aroused female.
" Oh, Brinlar," she gasped, suddenly, "you are an excellent servant!"
I took her wrists in my hands and pulled them from my hair, and held them to her sides, meanwhile alternately forcibly and aggressively, and delicately and tenderly, continuing my service. Her wrists were helpless in my grip. She pressed herself piteously against me.
She began to moan and squirm.
Suddenly she said, " I am helpless! I am being held, helplessly!"
" Forgive me, Mistress," I said, unhanding her, as though my grip upon her might have been an inadvertence.
She seized me again by the hair, drawing me closely to her.
" Oh, Brinlar," she whispered. " Yes, Brinlar! It is marvelous, Brinlar! Do not stop! Yes, Brinlar! Yes!"
Players of Gor by John Norman
DAW Books, Inc. page 93
"Sometimes free women, during the time of carnival, masquerading as slaves, run naked about the streets."
Players of Gor by John Norman
DAW Books, Inc. page 39
During the time of carnival the FW are quite bold.
The will even go so far as to dress and act as slaves.
One example is in the quote below.
The FreeWoman is one that Tarl had seen on several occasions throughout the day, she was
"dressed" as a slave, a wrap around her hips and a collar on her neck (put there by herself to enhance the masquerade).
She had seen Tarl taking a slave to one of the pleasure rack and begged Him to take her there and eventually He did.
"Then she lay back on the soft, broad straps, moaning. The cloth at her hips, now freed, had been brushed to the sides. No longer now between us lay the least impediment. She was now, as it is sometimes said on Gor, slave naked.
She looked at me. I put down my head and began to kiss her, and lick her, slowly about the belly.
"Oh!" she said.
And then, in a few moments, she was trying to move her body beneath my mouth, trying to bring me to other positions on her body. Her movement were mute pleas.
"Ohhhh!" she said suddenly, softly.
"Now," I said, "you must restrain yourself. You must try not to move."
"I cannot help myself," she said.
" It would be easy enough for me to desert you now," I said, "leaving you in the straps."
She moaned.
"You will not move now," I said, "until you receive permission."
"I will try," she said.
I then continued to lick and kiss at her, softly. She began to whimper and moan. I looked at her. Her eyes were wild, pleading. I put my hand on her belly. It was tense and hot, throbbing with blood and need. "Do not move," I told her.
"No," she said, "no!"
I then resumed my ministrations to her body. They were such as might be inflicted upon a woman who was no more than a slave.
"Please!" she whimpered. "Please! Please!"
"Very well," I said. "You may move."
She cried out and seemed to explode under me, sobbing with joy and helplessness. Then she looked at me wildly, still held in the straps, disbelief in her eyes. Then I entered her and took her, not gently. "Oh," she cried. "Master! Master!" Then again she lay back on the straps, helpless."
Players of Gor by John Norman
DAW Books, Inc. page 79-80
Even with her referring to him as Master, submitting to him sexually She was still free....
I rose from the rack, and drew my robes about me.
"I have business to attend to," I said. I should soon leave the city. I adjusted my wallet.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I freed her from the flexible, efficient restraints, and helped her courteously from the rack.
"Thank you," she said. "You are very kind." I restrained her from kneeling. She was, after all, a free woman."
Players of Gor by John Norman
DAW Books, Inc. page 80
"You are a free woman," I said. " Thus, it would doubtless be improper for me to subject you to powerful uses. It is up to me, doubtless, to see that you are protected from, indeed, shielded from, powerful sexual insights and experiences. You do not need to know what it is to be under male dominance. It is doubtless best that you never learn. It might change your life. Similarly, it is probably best that you learn nothing of helpless obedience, of submission and total surrender. It is difficult to tell where such things might lead. All in all, you had best remain on the superficial levels of sexuality, those appropriate to a free woman, unaware that anything deeper and more profound exists." She looked at me angrily. "It seems, thus," I said, "that I must refrain from responding to your needs, real and urgent though they may be."
Players of Gor by John Norman
DAW Books, Inc. page 78
