Free Women
When a Free Woman is not free anymore
Capture
Submission to Slavery
Return of one collared to slavery back to FreedomIn a captured city
Sometimes she may just be tied and thrown aside to be branded later or she may possibly be given a choice between slavery and a swift and honorable death being told "If you are a free woman, speak your freedom and advance, now, to the headman's block, or, if you are truly a slave, and have only been masquerading until now as a free woman, step now, if you wish, upon the mat of submission and kneel there, in this act becoming at last, explicitly, a legal slave."Capture from an enemy citySometimes, however, the free woman in a captured city is not, say, simply stripped, thrown down and tied, later to be turned over to an iron master for the searing kiss of his white hot metal. Sometimes, rather, she stripped, and presented before officers, is offered the choice between swift, honorable decapitation and slavery. If she chooses slavery, she may be expected to step onto a submission mat, and kneel there, head down, enter a slave pen of her own accord, or, say, fully acknowledging herself a slave, belly to an officer, kissing his feet. The question is sometimes put to her in somewhat the following fashion. "If you are a free woman, speak your freedom and advance, now, to the headman's block, or, if you are truly a slave, and have only been masquerading until now as a free woman, step now, if you wish, upon the mat of submission and kneel there, in this act becoming at last, explicitly, a legal slave." She is then expected, sometimes, kneeling to lick the feet of a soldier, who then rapes her on the mat. It is commonly regarded as an acceptable introduction for a woman to her explicit and legal slavery.
Blood Brothers of Gor page 337
Any city within Gor honors captures of Free Women or slaves from an enemy city, many times it's a young tarnsman's first mission is to capture Himself a slave.The institution of capture is universal, to the best of my knowledge, on Gor; there is no city which does not honor it, provided the females captured are those of the enemy, either their free women or their slaves; it is often a young tarnsman's first mission, the securing of a female, preferably free, from an enemy city, to enslave, that his sisters may be relieved of the burden of serving him; indeed, his sisters often encourage him to be prompt in the capture of an enemy wench that their own tasks may be made the lighter; when the young tarnsman, if successful, returns home from his capture flight, a girl bound naked across the saddle, his sisters welcome her with delight, and with great enthusiasm prepare her for the Feast of Collaring.
Assassin of Gor, pg. 159Submitting Herself to slavery freely
Sometimes a Free Woman just decides she is a slave Herself and freely submits Herself to a strong Master into slaverySometimes, however, the free woman in a captured city is not, say, simply stripped, thrown down and tied, later to be turned over to an iron master for the searing kiss of his white hot metal. Sometimes, rather, she stripped, and presented before officers, is offered the choice between swift, honorable decapitation and slavery. If she chooses slavery, she may be expected to step onto a submission mat, and kneel there, head down, enter a slave pen of her own accord, or, say, fully acknowledging herself a slave, belly to an officer, kissing his feet. The question is sometimes put to her in somewhat the following fashion. "If you are a free woman, speak your freedom and advance, now, to the headman's block, or, if you are truly a slave, and have only been masquerading until now as a free woman, step now, if you wish, upon the mat of submission and kneel there, in this act becoming at last, explicitly, a legal slave." She is then expected, sometimes, kneeling to lick the feet of a soldier, who then rapes her on the mat. It is commonly regarded as an acceptable introduction for a woman to her explicit and legal slavery.
Blood Brothers of Gor page 337"I do not know about other women," she said, "but I am one who wishes to belong to a man, wholly,"
"Beware your words," I cautioned her.
"I am a free woman," she said. "I can speak as I please."
I could not gainsay her in this. She was free. She could, accordingly, say what she wished, and without requiring permission. She stood before me. She had dared to brush back her hood. She had unpinned her shimmering veils, permitting them to fall about her throat and shoulders. A soft movement of her hands and a shake of her head had thrown her long, dark hair behind her back. She had dark eyes. Her face was softly rounded. It was delicate and beautiful.
"You have unpinned your veil," I observed.
"Yes," she said.
"You are brazen," I said.
"Yes," she said, insolently.
I mused, considering this. It is not difficult, of course, to take insolence from a woman.
"Why have you unpinned your veil before me?" I asked.
"Perhaps you will like what you see," she said.
"Bold female," I observed.
She tossed her head, impatiently.
"Do you have the least inkling as to what it might be, to belong to a man, wholly?" I asked.
"Do you find me pleasing?" she asked.
"Answer my question," I said.
"Yes," she said.
I wondered if this were true. It might be. She was Gorean.
"Now," she said. "Answer mine!"
"Do not court an alteration in your condition, unless you are prepared to accept it, in its full consequences," I said.
She shuddered. She lowered her eyes. "It is said that there is in every woman that which I sense so fearfully, yet so longingly, in myself."
"I wonder if that is true," I said.
"I do not know," she said, "but I know that it is in me, passionately, strongly, irresistibly."
"You are bold," I said.
"A free woman may be bold," she said.
"True," I granted her.
"I need this for my fulfillment, to be one with myself," she said.
"Speak clearly," I said. She was free. I saw no point in making it easy for her.
"I want to be a total woman, in the order of nature," she said.
I shrugged.
"My heart cries out," she wept, "with the need to be accepted, to be acquired, to be owned, to be mastered, to be forced to submit, to be forced to will-lessly and selflessly serve and love!"
I did not respond to her.
"I beg this of you, for you are a man," she said.
"Speak with greater precision," I said. "What sort of man are you?" she wept.
"Speak with greater precision," I said.
She shook her head. "Please, no," she said.
I shrugged.
"Mine is the slave sex!" she said, angrily, defiantly.
"The slave sex?" I asked.
"Yes!" she said.
"And you are a member of that sex?" I asked.
"Yes!" she said, angrily.
"I see," I said.
"I am tired of trying to be like a man!" she said. "It is a lie which robs me of myself!"
I said nothing.
"I want to be true to myself," she said. "I want to be fulfilled!"
"Such a thing is not reversible by your will," I said.
"I am well aware of that," she said.
"There are many sorts of masters," I said, "and you would be at the disposal of any of them, and totally."
"I know," she whispered.
I said nothing.
"You still have not answered my question," she said. "Do you find me pleasing?"
"It is difficult to say," I said, "bundled and covered as you are."
She looked at me, frightened. "Strip," I said. She would be assessed.
She reached to the veils about her throat and shoulders and, taking them, dropped them softly to the grass. She stood not more than a hundred yards from the gate of Tesius, in the city of Samnium, some two hundred pasangs east and a bit south of Brundisium, both cities continental allies of the island ubarate of Cos. She slipped softly from her slippers. She must then have felt the touch of the grass blades on her ankles. She looked at me. Her hands went to the stiff, high brocaded collar of her robes, the robes of concealment, to the numerous eyes and hooks there, holding it tightly, protectively, about her throat, up high under her chin.
"Do not dally," I told her.
In a few moments she had parted her robes, and slipped them, first the street robe, that stiff, ornate fabric, and then the house robe, scarcely less inflexible and forbidding, from her small, soft shoulders. Clad now only in a silken sliplike undergarment, she then looked at me.
"Completely," I said, "absolutely."
She then stood before me, even more naked than many a girl up for vending, waiting to be thrust to the surface of the block, for she wore no collar, no chains, no brand. A merchant on his way to the gate of Tesius paused, to gaze upon her. So, too, did two soldiers, guardsmen of Samnium. She stood very straight, inspected. None of these wrinkled their noses nor spat upon the ground.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Charlotte, Lady of Samnium," she said.
"Turn slowly before me, Lady Charlotte," I said. "Now, place y our hands, clasped, behind the back of y our head, and arch your back. good. You may now kneel. Do you know the position of the pleasure slave? Good."
"How does it feel to be kneeling before a man?" I asked.
"I have never been like this before a man," she said.
"How does it feel?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said. "I am so confused. It is so overwhelming. I am uncertain. I do not know what I feel like. I am almost giddy."
"Lift your chin," I said.
She complied immediately, unhesitantly.
"Spread your knees more widely," I said. Again, unhesitantly, immediately, she complied.
I regarded Lady Charlotte. I saw that she might be suitable. She was beautiful, and extremely feminine. I saw one of the soldiers licking his lips.
"These are difficult and dark times," I told her. "I tell you nothing you do not know when I tell you that. Too, I now inform you that where I go, it will be dangerous."
She looked up at me.
"Remain in the city," I said. "There you will be safe, there you will be secure."
"No," she said.
"No?" I asked.
"No," she said, firmly. "I am not yours, I do not need to obey you."
"Assume a position on your hands and knees," I told her. "Yes," I said. I removed a slave whip from my pack.
"I am free!" she said.
"I think it will do you good to feel this," I said, shaking out the five, soft, broad blades. I then went behind her.
"Ai!" she cried, struck. "It hurts, so!" she wept, now, a moment later, beginning to feel the pain in it's fullness, now on her stomach, disbelief in her eyes.
"I did not know it was like that."
"I struck you but once, and not hard," I told her.
"That was not hard?" she gasped, striped, stung, sobbing, terrified.
"No," I told her. "Go back now to the city, and be safe."
"No," she sobbed. "No!" I crouched near her, looking at her, closely.
"No," she said. "No, no!"
I regarded her.
"Please," she said.
"Very well," I said.
She looked at me, wildly, elated. I thrust her face down to the grass. She sobbed with relief, with pleasure. I drew forth a slave collar from my pack. Roughly, unceremoniously, I placed it on her neck, snapping it shut, locking it.
"Good," said the merchant, turning away. "Good," said the two soldiers, too, turning away.
I regarded her.
She was now collared. She was now a slave. She was now mine.
She looked up at me, frightened. "I am yours," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"Please strike me once more," she said, "that I may this time feel the blow as a slave."
I said nothing.
"I want to feel your whip, as your slave," she said.
"Very well," I said. I then, by the hair and an arm, drew her again to her hands and knees. I again then stood behind her but this time I did not strike her immediately, but let her wait, as a slave, that she might anticipate the blow, and grow apprehensive of it, and not know precisely when it would fall. Then the blades hissed suddenly down upon her and again she cried out, sobbing, flung to the grass, which she clutched with her fingers.
"You punish me," she said. "You can do with me as you please. I am your slave! I am yours!"
I looked down upon her. She was not unattractive, I had not planned to take a slave with me from Samnium, but I did not truly object to doing so. She could cook for me, and serve me, and keep me warm in the furs. It was late in Se'Kara. I would find her a useful convenience, a lovely one. Every man needs such a convenience. Then, when I wished, I could give her away, or dispose of her in some market.
"Do you think you were struck hard?" I asked.
"I do not know, Master," she said.
"You were not," I informed her.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, frightened, sensing what might have been done to her but had not been. To be sure, I had struck her harder than the first time, for she was now a slave, and slaves, of course, are whipped differently from free women, but I had not, truly, struck her with great force.
"Can men strike harder than that" she asked.
"Do not be absurd," I said. "I struck you with only a tiny fraction of the force that an average fellow, if he wished, might bring to such a task. Too, I struck you only once, and in only one area, one less sensitive to pain than many others."
"I see, Master," she said, shuddering. She had then sensed what it might be to be a whipped slave girl. And whipping, of course, is only one of the punishments to which such a girl might be subjected. "I will try to be a good slave, Master," she whispered, frightened, understanding now perhaps somewhat better than before something of the categorical and absolute nature of her new condition.
"Who were you?" I asked.
"Lady Charlotte, of Samnium," she said.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"A slave, only a slave, yours," she said.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"I have no name, " she said. "I have not yet been given one. My master has not yet given me a name."
"Your responses are correct," I said.
She sobbed with relief.
"Do you wish a name?" I asked.
"It is all within the will of Master," she said. "I want only what Master wants. I desire only to please."
"It will be a convenience for me to have a name for you," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You are 'Feiqa'," I said, naming her.
"Thank you, Master," she breathed, elated.
Mercenaries of Gor" pages 7 - 13A Panther Woman is freed from slavery
On a rare occasion a slave is released and made Free once again, it's not unusual for Her to eventually return to slavery but it does happen occasionally"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," she said, "when rings were fastened in my ears." She regarded them. "Is 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 woman 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 from it, was especially beautiful.
I sat in the captain's chair, in authority, but crippled, huddled in blankets, bitter. I knew that I was an important man, but I could not move the left side of my body.
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 out, miserably, kneeling.
Verna turned and pointed out one of my men, an oarsman. "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 oarsman. 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 he whom Verna had indicated she must serve.
Their cries of pleasure carried to me.
Marlenus regarded Verna. "Will you, too," he added, "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."
"I fear your touch, Marlenus," she said. "I know what you can do to me."
He regarded her.
"I am not your slave," she said.
Hunters of Gor" pages 338 - 341