kajira Dress Collars Slave Type Ceremony
~Brands and Brandings ~
" The brand is to be distinguished from the collar,
though both are a designation of slavery.
The primary significance of the collar is that it identifies
the master and his city. The collar of a given girl may be
changed countless times, but the brand
continues throughout to bespeak her status "
(Outlaw of Gor, page 187)
~ Placement of Brands ~
"Left thigh or right thigh?" he asked.
"Left thigh," said Ulafi.
Slave girls are commonly branded on the left thigh.
Sometimes they are branded on the right thigh,
or lower left abdomen."
(Explorers of Gor, page 71)
"Where are we branded?" She said.
"A girl is commonly branded on the left or right thigh,"
I said, "sometimes on the lower left abdomen."
(Beasts of Gor, page 229 )
"Most of these brands, of whatever sort,
were on the left thigh, as mine was, near the hip."
(Dancer of Gor, page 66)
"I could, of course, examine your thighs,
your lower left abdomen, your body generally," I said.
The thighs and the lower left abdomen are the brand
sites recommeded by Merchant Law. Masters, of course,
may brand a girl wherever they please.
She is theirs. Sometimes brands are placed on the left side
of the neck, on the left calf, the interior of the left heel,
and on the inside of the left forearm. The customary brand
site, incidentally, is high on the left thigh. That is the
site almost invariably utilized in marking Gorean kajirae."
(Fighting Slave of Gor, Page 349)
~ Kef ~
"I had now been branded, a small, graceful mark
burned
into my left thigh, high, under the hip.
It had a vertical bar, a rather strict one, with two curling, frondlike
extensions, rather near its base,
as though in submission to it.
It looked a little like a 'K.'"
(Dancer of Gor, page 66)
The man, placing heavy gloves on his hands,
withdrew from the brazier a slave iron. Its tip was
a figure some inch and a half high, the first letter in cursive script,
in the Gorean alphabet, of the expression Kajira"
(Hunters of Gor, page 51)
~ Dina ~
"I had seen the design at the tip of the iron.
It was a small flower, stylized; it was circular,
about an inch and a half in diameter;
it was not unlike a small rose;
it was incredibly lovely and delicate."
(Slave Girl of Gor, p. 52)
"My own brand was the 'Dina;' the dina is a small lovely, multiply petaled
flower, short-stemmed, and blooming in a turf of green leaves, usually on
the slopes of hills, in the northern temperate zones of Gor; in its budding,
though in few other ways, it resembles a rose; it is and exotic, alien flower;
it is also spoken of, in the north, where it grows most frequently, as the
slave flower; it was burned into my flesh; in the south, below the Gorean
equador, where the flower is much more rare, it is prized more highly."
(Slave Girl of Gor, page 61)
~ Brand of the North ~
~Brand of Forkbeard ~
"The brand used by Forkbeard is not uncommon
in the north, though there is less uniformity
in Torvaldsland on these matters than in the south,
where the merchant caste, with its recommendations
for standardization, is more powerful. All over Gor,
of course, the slave girl is a familiar commodity.
The brand used by the Forkbeard, found rather
frequently in the north, consisted of a half circle,
with, at its right tip, adjoining it, a steep, diagonal line.
The half circle is about an inch and a quarter in width,
and the diagonal line about an inch and a quarter
in height. The brand is, like many, symbolic. In the north,
the bond-maid is sometimes referred to as a woman
whose belly lies beneath the sword.
(Marauders of Gor, page 87)
~ ~The Brands of the Nomads ~
"The standard of the Kassars is that of a scarlet,
three-weighted bola, which hangs from a lance;
the symbolic representation of a bola, three circles
joined at the center by lines, is used to mark their bosk
and slaves..."
(Nomads of Gor, p. 106)
"The standard of the Kataii is a yellow bow,
bound across a black lance;
their brand is also that of a bow,
facing to the left..."
(Nomads of Gor, p.106)
"The Paravaci standard is a large banner
of jewels beaded on golden wires, forming the head
and horns of a bosk its value is incalculable;
the Paravaci brand is a symbolic representation
of a bosk head, a semicircle resting on an inverted
isosceles triangle."
(Nomads of Gor, p. 106)
"...but the sign of the four bask horns that of
the Tuchuk standard; the brand of the four bosk horns,
set in such a manner as to somewhat resemble
the letter "H," is only about an inch high..."
(Nomads of Gor, p. 62)
~ Knife Brand of Schendi~
"From the box he then took a small,
curved knife and a tiny, cylindrical leather flask.
I gritted my teeth, but made no sound.
With the small knife he gashed my left thigh,
making upon it a small, strange design.
He then took a powder, orange in color,
from the flask and rubbed it into the wound."
(Explorers of Gor, Page 330)
~ Taharic Kef ~
"I had little doubt that it would be the Tahari brand which,
white hot, would be pressed into the thigh of the
new slave, marking her thenceforth as merchandise.
The contact surface of the iron would be formed into
the Taharic character 'Kef,' which, in Taharic,
is the initial letter of the expression 'Kajira,'
the most common expression in Gorean for
a female slave."
(Tribesmen of Gor, Page 148)
"Taharic is a very graceful script.
It makes no distinctions between capital and small letters,
and little distinction between printed and cursive script.
Anyone who can read printed Taharic
will have no difficulty in following cursive Taharic.
The men of the Tahari are content to form their letters
carefully and beautifully, being fond of them.
To scribble Taharic is generally regarded not as
proving oneself a swift, efficient fellow, but something
of a boor, insensible to beauty. The initial printed letter
of 'Kajira,' rather than the cursive letter, as generally,
is used as the common brand for women in the Tahari.
Both the cursive letter in common Gorean and the
printed letter in Taharic are rather lovely, both being
somewhat floral in appearance."
(Tribesman Of Gor, Page 148-149 )
~ The Mark of Treve ~
"Incised deeply, precisely, in that slim, lovely,
now-bared thigh was a startling mark, beautiful,
insolent, dramatically marking that beautiful thigh as
that which it now could only be,
that of a female slave.
'It is beautiful,' I whispered.
She regarded the brand.
'It is the first letter, in cursive script,' she said,
'of the name of the city of Treve.'"
(Captive of Gor, page 277)
~ Penalty Brand ~
"Sometimes, too" she said, "a girl may be branded as punishment,
and to warn others against her." I looked at her, puzzled. "Penalty
brands," she said. "They are tiny, but clearly visible. There are
various such brands. There is one for lying and another for stealing."
(Captive of Gor, page 277 )
~ Priest Kings and Kurii Brands~
"Incidentally, there are many brands on Gor.
Two that almost never occur on Gor, by the way,
are those of the moons and collar,
and of the chain and claw. The first of these commonly
occurs in certain of the Gorean enclaves on Earth,
which serve as headquarters for agents of the Priest-Kings;
the second tends to occur in the lairs of Kurii agents on
Earth; the first brand consists of a locked collar and,
ascending diagonally above it, extending to the right,
three quarter moons; this brand indicates the girl is
subject to Gorean discipline; the chain-and-claw brand
signifies, of course, slavery and subjection
with the compass of the Kur yoke."
(Explorers of Gor, page 12)
~ Example Branding ~
"I tended the brazier. It glowed in the darkness.
Two men came and stood over me. I looked up, startled.
They pulled me up by the arms
and took me to the white- barked tree.
They threw me on my back, my head down, on the tree.
I looked at them, wildly. My hands were tied together
before my body and taken pulled up and over my head.
They were fastened, behind my head, out of my vision,
to the tree. My body was stretched out,
one leg on each side of the trunk.
"What are you doing?" I cried.
I felt my body being tightly roped to the tree.
I squirmed, my head down, my legs up.
'Stop!' I cried.
Ropes were placed on my neck and belly,
and on each leg, above the knees and at the ankles,
and lashed tightly.
'Stop,' I begged. 'Please stop!' I could barely move.
The men stepped back; I was fastened to the tree.
'Let me go!' I cried.
'Please!' I whimpered.
'What are you going to do?' I asked.
They looked at me. I was helpless.
'What are you going to do?' I whimpered.
'Oh, no!' I cried. 'No, no, no, no!'
My captor had gone to the brazier and,
with the leather glove, and another, too,
with two hands, withdrawn the white-hot iron.
I felt the, heat of it, even feet away.
'No!' I screamed. 'No!'
Two men, large men, strong, held my left thigh immobile.
I looked into the eyes of my captor.
'Please, no!' I wept. 'Please, no!'
Then, head down, helpless, held, I was branded
a Gorean slave girl. The marking, I suppose, took only
a few seconds. That is doubtless true. Objectively
I grant you the truth of that. Yet a girl who has been
marked finds this obvious truth difficult to accept
psychologically. Perhaps I may be granted that those
seconds, those few seconds, seem very long seconds.
For an hour it seemed I felt the iron.
It touched me firmly, kissing me, then claiming me.
I screamed, and screamed. I was alone with the pain,
the agony, the degradation, the relentless, hissing object,
so hurting me, the men. Mercifully they let me scream.
It is common to let a girl scream, a Gorean kindness,
while she is being marked with a white-hot iron.
Afterwards, however, once the iron is pulled out
of her body, and she is fully marked, Gorean males are
less likely to accord her such consideration for
her feelings. They are less likely, then, to be so indulgent
with her. This makes sense.
Afterwards, she is only a branded girl.
It begins swiftly, almost before you can feel it.
I felt the iron touch me and almost instantaneously,
crackling, flash through my outer skin and
then, firmly, to my horror, enter and ledge itself fixedly
in my thigh. It was literally in my body, inflexibly, burning.
The pain then began to register on my consciousness.
I began screaming. I could not believe what was being done
to me, or how much it hurt. Not only could I feel the iron,
but I could hear it, hissing and searing in the precise,
beautiful wound it was relentlessly burning in my thigh.
There was an odor of burning flesh, mine.
I smelled, burning, as of a kind of meat. It was my own
body being marked. I could not move my thigh.
I threw back my head and screamed. I felt the iron tight
in my body, then, to my horror, pressing in even
more deeply. The marking surface of the iron,
then, lay hissing, literally submerged, in my flesh.
I could not move my thigh in the least. I threw my head
from side to side, screaming. The marking surface of the
iron is some quarter of an inch in depth. It was within
my flesh. It was lodged there, submerged, hissing and
burning. Taking its time, not hurrying, it marked me,
cleanly and deeply. Then, swiftly, cleanly, it withdrew.
I smelled burned meat, my own. The men released my thigh.
I began to choke and sob. Men regarded the mark.
My captor was commended on his work. I gathered I had
been well marked. The men then left me and
I continued to lie, head down, roped and helpless,
on the broken, inclined trunk of the white-barked tree.
I was overwhelmed, psychologically, with what had
happened to me. The pain was now less. My thigh still
stung, and cruelly, but the pain seemed relatively
unimportant now compared to the enormity of the
comprehension that shook me to the core.
I had been branded. I shuddered in the bonds. I moaned.
I wept. My thigh would be sore for days, but that was
unimportant, even trivial. What would remain was the
mark they bad placed in my flesh. That, unlike the pain,
would not vanish. I would continue to wear that mark.
It would, from now on, identify me as something which I
had not been, or had not explicitly been, before, but now
was clearly, for the eyes of all. I lay there. I knew I now
was, because of the brand, deeply and profoundly
different than I had been before.
What could a brand mean? I shuddered.
I scarcely dared conjecture the nature of a girl
who wore such a mark on her body.
She could be only one thing. I forced the thought
from my mind. I tried to move my wrists, my head and body,
my legs and ankles. I could move them very little.
They were helpless in their constraints.
Only animals wore brands."
(Slave Girl of Gor, Page 57-59)