It is so permanent
His decision to enter the shop seemed sudden. He gave me no indication of why we
entered or what goods were sold there. Kneeling out of the way, I looked around
curiously, my eyes landing on whips. I thought perhaps at first he had decided
to purchase a whip and return to the falls to beat a rather bold, insolent girl.
He had, after all, made the offer. When he indicated that I was to go to the
leatherworker, my heart pounded. I wondered frantically if I was going to be
whipped for some infraction or whim ... or if I was going to be used by the
leatherworker to demonstrate the effectiveness of one whip or another. I was
greatly relieved to hear that it was simply that my ears were going to be
pierced. I'd had this done on earth, not once, but three times in each ear and
had considered further piercings before being brought to Gor. It is no big deal,
I thought. Just a repiercing really.
"It is so permanent" Master Salen said. That brought me up short. I had been
looking at this through earthen eyes, not Gorean.
Girls here do not want their ears pierced. They find it humiliating. They accept
a brand more readily than a simple hole in their ears. It marks them as a slave
not just for now, but forever. A never-to-be-freed slave.
There is a glint of silver wire now in my earlobes, half hidden by hair, but
there nonetheless, marking me as such.
I stood this morning before the mirror, studying myself in a way I have not done
in some time. What I saw are the many markings of slavery - the pierced ears,
pounded shut collar, bina on my wrist, the kef brand on my thigh, a red mark on
my neck covering a faint half-moon bite scar... that placed there in the middle
of the night by my Master.
More than that ... it is the way I stand, the look in my eyes, the parting of my
lips.
"It is so permanent." It already was.