| Kajira / Free Woman Interactions (updated 9/21/08) |
| But I think, too, free women enjoy ruling women who are superior to themselves in beauty. In the wars between free women and slave girls woe to the slave girl who is the serving slave of the free woman! On such a woman the free woman may to her heart's content indulge her vanity, her arrogance, and her pettiness, and may inflict on her her animosity, and, indeed, her hatred, and her frustration, ventilating these things abundantly and richly, and with impunity, upon the unfortunate, innocent one who is taken as standing proxy for her kind, that kind of which the free woman is so resentful and jealous, a kind of much greater interest and attractiveness to men, the female slave. The serving slave of a free woman is often lashed mercilessly if she so much as looks at a man. Some claim that the keeping of pretty serving slaves by free women is to guard against their own abduction. Should a tarnsman, say, with slave noose in hand, invade their quarters he may choose the slave over the mistress. To be sure, if he prefers the slave he is certain to do so, and she is such that she will rush eagerly to his bracelets, joyful in her femininity and collar to now have the opportunity to serve her natural master, a male. But obviously, if the fellow is interested, he will take both. If he takes one, he will bind her belly up over his saddle, usually that she may be casually and conveniently caressed in flight, that she may be writhing in helpless, raging heat by the time he reaches his camp. If he takes two he will simply chain them one on each side of the saddle, to the booty rings, and thus have a balanced load. If this is done they may be bound in the camp and aroused at his leisure. In the case of taking both the mistress and the slave, the slave, of course, having been longer in the collar, will be "first girl" over her erstwhile mistress. Naturally this is a situation to which she, switch in hand, does not object.
Witness 436 Were it not for men, free women would be as powerless as slave girls. Witness 464 "Yes, Master," I said. I had seen them, at least, in Treve. I myself, on the other hand, had never been put naked into the streets. It is normally done as a punishment. Normally, too, the slave is locked in the iron belt. Witness 758 "Tasks?" I asked. "Bringing food to the prisoners, replenishing cisterns, emptying wastes buckets, carrying fresh straw, cleaning cells, that sort of thing. One cannot expect the guards to do that." "No," I said. "In many cities," she said, "such work is performed by free women of low caste, but here it is done by slaves. Do you know why?" "No," I said. "That a token be conveyed to the prisoners of the contempt in which they are held." Witness 317 "So," she said, "that is not how you kneel before men, is it?" "No," I said. "I am a pleasure slave. It is expected, accordingly, that I will kneel before men with my legs spread, unless, perhaps, free women are present." Witness 338 I wore now a skirt of filmy silk, which would swirl as I moved. It was open on the left. My midriff was muchly bared. My breasts were haltered high. Tiny straps came over my shoulders. In such garments one might serve at more decorous banquets, though, to be sure, most likely not if free women were present. When free women are present, one usually serves gowned, or tunicked. At less decorous banquets one might expect to serve differently, in a ta-teera, in rags, in a slave strip, naked, in such ways. I wore bracelets, an armlet, bangles. Too, I had been given earrings, golden rings. Witness 404 How serene and beautiful they seemed, in their veils and robes! I had briefly, once, inadvertently, met the eyes of one. It had happened in the pens when I had looked after the free women, as they had passed me. One, the first, had turned, and caught me with my head lifted. In that instant I saw her body stiffen with rage, and, over the colors of her veils, I saw her eyes were cold, and filled with hatred. I returned instantly to my belly, fully, arms down and back, the backs of my hands on the store my forehead against the stone. I trembled, and tried not to move. I was terrified. She came back and stood before me. I lay before her, prone and helpless, as what I was, a prostrated slave. I was nothing. She was mightiness, and beauty. I lay before her, miserably, trembling, helpless, hoping that she would not have me beaten. She remained standing before me, for some time. I dared not move. I scarcely dared to breathe. One of the guards attempted to distract her, calling her attention to a new model of a pleasure rack. But still she remained standing before me, looking down at me, I suppose. Then he said, "She is only an ignorant Earth slut." "But she is learning," said another. I was grateful to the guards. Had I not been so popular I wondered if they would have been as generous. I saw that they were trying to protect me. But I was frightened, too, that they might deem such protection necessary. What might she have done to me if she pleased? "Kneel," she snapped. I scrambled to my knees before her, less gracefully, I fear, than I might have, but I was frightened of her. I sensed in her great hatred, and contempt. "Split your knees," she said, fiercely, "more widely!" I complied, instantly. Tears ran down my cheeks. It is one thing to kneel so before a man, and quite another before a woman. "She is an Earth slut?" said the woman. "Yes," she was told. "I would have thought so," she said. "They are all worthless, and stupid," she said. I dared not move. "Yes, she is from Earth," she said, musingly, acidly. "One can tell, of course. See how plain, and ugly, she is. How lacking in grace and poise? Just to look at her, you would know she is from Earth. Yes! It is easy to tell! The women of Earth are such inferior goods! What true man could possibly be interested in them? In the markets it is no wonder they are jokes. How lacking they are! Earth is such a thin, unlikely, impoverished soil for slaves. I shall never understand why they bother noosing these sluts. One can harvest nothing there of interest, only pathetic mediocrities, at best with good fortune, perhaps a girl of merely average attractiveness. Earth women are shabby stock, third-rate merchandise, inferior goods. At best such things could be only pot-and-kettle girls, low slaves, cleaning slaves, laundresses, and such. I do not see what men see in them. They cannot begin to compare to a Gorean woman. See, for example, this ignorant, presumptuous little slut, this meaningless little piece of slave suet trembling in her collar! I think she might well profit from a bout with the tongs and hot irons!" "We have some new male slaves in Pen 2 of the Bata Section," said another to her, he whose whip I had first kissed. The woman turned, to see who had addressed her, and suddenly, for a moment, she seemed taken aback. I think she had not seen him well before. He whose whip I had first kissed was, in his unassuming way, a powerful, handsome Gorean male. I thought him the most handsome of all the guards. He was the most attractive man I had ever seen. I was weak when near him. It was his whip which I had first kissed on this world. It was from such a man that a woman might beg the collar! Why was he so cruel to me? I wanted only to please him, and as the slave I was. Her attitude immediately changed. "Oh?" she said, archly. "I do not know if you would be interested," he said. "They are male silk slaves, pleasantly featured, symmetrically proportioned, charming fellows, gentle, sensitive, unthreatening. They are well trained to be a woman's slave." "Ah!" she said, as though interested. I did not move a muscle. I knelt almost rigidly, my knees spread. I had not dared to meet her eyes. It can be deemed presumptuous for a slave to directly meet the eyes of a free person, unless the permission is clear. Suddenly she had forgotten about me! "They are the sort," he said, "with whom a lady might chat of her day, her doings and thoughts, with whom she might exchange gossip, and gratefully share delicate confidences. They are well-trained to be a woman's slave. They would look well in their silk at your slave ring. You could be proud of them as they hurry about your errands, keep your quarters and serve your friends." "They are not masculine, are they?" she inquired. "I find masculinity so offensive and vulgar," she said. The liar, the liar, I thought. Even within her garments I sensed her naked body palpitating in his presence! What possible interest could she be to such a man, other than perhaps to be seized, stripped and caged, for an eventual sale? "You need have no fear," he said. "They have been selected for their nature, which is that to be a woman's slave." I sensed that she, as any hormonally normal woman, would despise such creatures. "By all means," she said, "let us look at them." "Follow me, if you would," said he. The woman had then turned away. I seas grateful that she had been distracted! I had been forgotten! The guard, it seemed, was interested in displaying the goods of the house. I turned my head a little and saw her following the guard, he whose whip I had first kissed, from the area He did not even look back at her. Doubtless I should have rejoiced at this development, facilitating as it did my escape from what might have been a most unpleasant situation. How fortunate that he, in the line of his duty, he so impatient and efficient, had recalled to her the presumed itinerary of her schedule. I was pleased that this, doubtless by some fortuitous coincidence, had occurred to him. But I had felt, too, a sudden uncontrollable wave of hatred and jealousy for her, she being permitted to follow him as she did. She followed him quickly enough, and meekly enough, I thought. This might have been noted, too, by the guards. The woman with her accompanied her. Then they were gone. "I wonder what she would look like on a block," said one of the guards. "Not bad, I would guess," said another. "Do you think she could dance?" asked another. "Yes," said another. "It is instinctive in a woman," said another. "Certainly she could be taught," said another. "She needs a collar, and a taste of the whip," said another. "That is what they all need," said another, "a collar, and a taste of the whip." Then the guards looked at me. I knelt before them as well as I could. "Do not mind what she said," said one of the guards. "No," said another. "You are beautiful," said another. "We will decide who is beautiful and who is not," said another. "And you are beautiful, very beautiful," said another. "Yes," said another. "May I speak?" I asked. "No," I was told. "We know her," said one of the guards. "She was abandoned by her intended companion, who had become enamored with a lovely Earth-girl slave," said another. Perhaps I should not have been, but I was pleased to hear this. Her projected companion had preferred one such as I, an Earth-girl slave, to one such as she! Inferior goods, indeed! I wondered if the slave had simply been taken, or purchased, by the fellow, whether she wished it or not, or if she had smiled, and posed, and, finding him of great interest, had proffered herself as a slave, promising him delights beyond the interests, or ken, of a free woman. We can do such things, you know. In any event, good for her! "If the women of Earth were not hot, desirable and beautiful, if they were not superb slave goods, truly superb slave goods, they would not be brought to Gor," said another. "True," said another. I wanted to express my gratitude, my elation, at their words. I wanted to ask them a thousand questions! "May I speak, may I speak?" I begged. "No," I was told. So I was silent. A bar then rang out, which summoned us again to our training. I was jealous that the free woman was alone with the guard, but I had no fear that he would bother her. It was not as though she were a slave, alone with him, naked, in her collar, who might be simply thrown back against the bars, and lifted up, and then, her feet off the ground, her back against the bars, made use of, for her major purpose, the pleasuring of a master. We were then marched to the training room, our hands clasped behind the back of our necks. This lifts the breasts and allows us to feel the collar. I had had my first experience of the warfare between the free woman and the slave girl. I would not forget it. Witness of Gor, pg 137-141 The dressing of slaves, incidentally, is an interesting and intricate pastime. The slave is almost never totally nude. Her body is marked almost always with some token of her condition, which is bond. This is usually a collar, but it may also be an anklet, sometimes belled, or a bracelet. Her brand, of course, fixed in her very flesh, deep and lovely, is always worn. There is no mistaking it. The iron has seen to that. Beyond these things, much depends on the individual girl and on her particular master of the time. Individual taste is here supreme. To be sure, there are natural congruences and proprieties which are generally observed. For example, although one may see a girl in the streets, naked save for, say, her brand and collar, or a bit of chain, this is not common. This sort of thing is done, usually, only as a discipline. Free women tend to object, for the eyes of their companions tend almost inadvertently to stray to the exposed flesh of such girls. Perhaps, too, they are angry that they themselves are not permitted to present themselves so brazenly and lusciously before men. Needless to say it is difficult for men to keep their minds on business when such girls are among them. Perhaps this is the reason that magistrates tend to frown upon the practice. After all, Goreans are only human. In a family house, of course, girls are almost always modestly garbed. Children of many houses might be startled if they could see the transformation which takes place in their pretty Didi or Lale, whom they know as their nurse, governess and playmate, when she is, in their absence or after their bedtime, ordered to the chamber of one of the young masters, there to dance lasciviously before him, and then to be had, and as a slave. Context determines much. If a young man is giving a proper and refined dinner, his girl, modestly attired, will commonly serve it, shyly and deferentially, quietly and self-effacingly, as befits a slave. She may even draw commendations from his mother, pleased that he has purchased such a modest, useful girl. In a dinner given for his rowdy male companions, of course, in which even unmixed wines might be served, she, obedient, writhing and sensuous, is quite a different girl. Perhaps he has even purchased her some training, from local slave masters. His guests, uncontrolled in their desire, driven half mad with passion, will mightily envy him his girl. Perhaps he, in Gorean hospitality, will share her with them, but, in the end, when they have gone, it is at the foot of his own couch that she, licking and kissing, and begging, will be chained. The most common Gorean garment for a slave is a brief slave tunic. This tunic is invariably sleeveless and, usually, has a deep, plunging neckline. It may be of a great variety of materials, from rich satins and silks to thin, form-revealing, clinging rep-cloth. Camisks are favored in some cities. The common camisk is a simple rectangle of cloth, containing, in its center, a circular opening. The garment is drawn on by the girl over her head and down upon her shoulders; it is worn, thus, like a poncho; it is commonly belted with binding fiber or a bit of light chain, something with which the girl may be secured, if the master wishes. One city in which the common camisk is favored, generally, is Tharna. The Turian camisk is a bit like an inverted "T," the bar of which has beveled edges. It goes about the neck, down, low, and is drawn up, and snugly, usually quite snugly, between the legs, the beveled bar ends of the "T" then being folded closely forward about the girl's flanks and being tied, tightly, at her belly. In the common camisk the girl's flanks, and her brand, are bared. In the Turian camisk, because of its snugness and adjustment cords, it is easy, as you might well imagine, to leave little doubt as to the girl's beauty. Needless to say, the camisk most commonly found in great Turia, the Ar of the south, is that camisk which Goreans, generally, know as the "Turian camisk." Interestingly, in Turia itself, it is known simply as the "camisk," and what I have called the common camisk is, in Turia, referred to as the "northern camisk." One of the most exciting slave garments, if the slave is permitted clothing, is the Ta-Teera, or, as it is sometimes called, the slave rag. This is analogous to the tunic, but it is little more, and intentionally so, than a rag or rags. In it the girl is in no doubt as to whether or not she is a slave. Some cities do not wish girls in Ta-Teeras to be seen publicly on the streets. Some masters put their girls in such garments only when they are camping, or in the wilds. Others, of course, may prescribe the Ta-Teera for their girls when they are within their own compartments. There are many types of slave garments, of course, other than such obvious categories as tunics, camisks and Ta-Teeras. Pleasure silks, in all varieties, and swirling, diaphanous dancing silks might be mentioned. The leathers forced on the slave maidens of the Wagon Peoples, taught to care for the bosk and please their masters, too, might be called to mind. Sometimes, too, it is controversial as to what constitutes a garment and what a bond. For example, is a slave harness a garment or a bond; objectively, I suppose, it is both. So, too, I would suppose, are the tunic chains of Tyros. A girl may be "set off," of course, and beautifully, even if, technically, she is not clothed. She may be garbed, for example, in netting, as the "Hunter's Catch"; or she may be bedecked in jewels and leather, and shimmering chains, dancing under a whip in a tavern in Port Kar; or she may have flowers intertwined in her chains, as when she is awarded to a victor in public games in Ar. Interestingly, what counts as slave garments and what does not, is apparently a culturally influenced phenomenon. Goreans, unhesitantly, regard such things as the brassiere and panties, or panty hose, as slave garments. This may be because such garments have been associated with Earth females brought to Gorean slave markets, garments which are sometimes permitted the girls during the early portions of their sale, or, perhaps, independently, because they are soft, sensual and slavelike. Earth girls who ,lion such garments might be interested to know then that that they are putting things on their bodies which on Gor are taken to be the garments of slaves. The main purpose of slave garments, of course, is not particularly to clothe the girl, for she need not even be clothed, as she is an animal, but to, as I have suggested, "set her off." In this sense slave garments may be as resplendent and complex as the robes of an enslaved Ubara, to be removed by the general who has captured her upon a platform of public humiliation, or as simple as the cords on a girl's wrists and a piece of rope knotted on her throat. Additional functions of slave garments, of course, other than those of displaying the girl and making it clear to all how desirable she is, are to remind her, clearly, that she is a slave, which is useful in her discipline, and, also, interestingly, to stimulate, intensify and deepen her sexuality. It is impossible for a woman to dress and act as a slave, and be enslaved, in full legality, and not, sooner or later, understand that she is really what she seems to be, a slave. The master, meanwhile, of course, keeps her under discipline, uses. her frequently and often casually, and forces her to undergo the abuses proper to her degraded condition. At a given moment of tenderness, sooner or later, she yields herself to him, fully, and as his slave. This moment is usually accompanied with tears of joy, and love. This is experienced by the woman as a moment of marvelous liberation. Gone then are the thousand frustrations and conflicts; released then, in a flood of tears and joy, is her fundamental womanhood; the hypocrisies are then at an end; the long shams are done; she melts into his arms, kissing and sobbing, his. But enough of the wonders, and astonishments and pleasures, of slave garments. Their nature, their varieties and types, and their meanings, are limited only, as you might expect, by the widely ranging imaginations of the lovely slaves and their strong masters. Miles of Vonda and I continued to look downward, into the central room of the slave quarters, upon the confined inmates. "The feast tonight," said Miles of Vonda, "would have been more pleasant, had it been served by these." "We must, for the time, deny them to ourselves," I said. "There is the work of men to be done." Guardsman, 105 It is not unusual, at a Gorean meal, where free women are not present, for one or more of the slaves to serve naked. At ruder meals, this makes it easier for one of the guests, should the urge strike him, to use them. Guardsman, 254 I stood with Kenneth behind a curtain. Through the curtain we could hear and see what took place within the lofty hall in the house of the Lady Florence, she of Vonda. The hall was lovely, too, as well as lofty, with its mosaics and tiles, its hangings and slim pillars. In the hall was an open circle of small tables, at which a handful of guests, on cushions and mats, reclined. There were four men and two women at these tables, other than the Lady Florence, the hostess, and her guest of the past several days, the Lady Melpomene. The tables were covered with cloths of glistening white and a service of gold. Before each guests there were tiny slices of tospit and larma, small pastries, and, in a tiny golden cup, with a small golden spoon, the clustered, black, tiny eggs of the white grunt. The first wine, a light white wine, was being deferentially served by Pamela and Bonnie. Both girls were beautiful, in flowing, classic white. Their arms, of course, were bare, as is common with slave girls. On the throat of each was a lustrously polished silver collar, and on the left wrist of each, locked, with a chain loop, should one desire to secure them, a matching bracelet. Both girls, of course, were barefoot. Fighting Slave of Gor The Lady Leta laughed. "Pamela," said the Lady Florence, "bring dancing silks for our slave." "Oh, Mistress," said Pamela, smiling, "this is a house of refinement. We do not have such scandalous garments here." Fighting Slave **Granted, the house belongs to a Free Woman, but she had men at the dinner engagement. "Your duties in this house, Lola will be numerous and complex. In particular you will be a house slave. You will dust and clean the house and keep it neat. You will mend and sew. YOu wil wash and iron clothing. You will shop and cook and serve. all manner of domentic tasks, trival and servile unfit for free women, will be yours." "Yes, master," she said. "Too, you will take orders in this house from Lady Beverly, Miss Henderson, who is a free woman in the house, as you would as if from me, but you are to remember always that is it I who owns you and not she." "Yes, Master," she said. "But for such a handsome Master am I to be only a house slave?" "Foremost among your duties," I said, "for you are beautiful, will be to attend to the pleasures of your Master." "Yes, Master," she said. "Please forgive me Master, for not having been pleasing to you before." "Do you wish to be whipped again?" I asked. "No, Master," she said, "No!" The whipping had convinced her that she was under discipline. This understanding, or course, goes far beyond the mere pain of a particular episode. The whipping in itself, though of considerble moment, is insignificant when compared to the lesson it teaches. It teaches her that she is at his mercy, and is owned, truly. This fulfills something very deep in the female. This is the lesson of the leather. This is not to deny, of course that a woman who is fully conscious of her imbonded condition, does not fear the whip. She does, for she knows what it can and will do to her if she is not pleasing. The only woman who does not fear the whip is she who has not felt it. "Then perhaps you should begin to be pleasing to me now," I said. "Yes, Master!" sahe said and began to kiss at my body. "But on the other hand," I said, "perhaps you should merely tie my sandals." "Let me tie them later," she said. "Let me please you now," "Do you bet it?" I asked. "Yes Master," she said. "Very well," I said. Lola, kneeling behind the bars of the slave kennely, looked up at me. "You are so different now from before," she said. I shrugged. She put her arms timidly through the bars, to touch me. "Will you not again sometime, subjec me to slave rape?" she asked. "Perhaps," I said. "I am pleased that you bought me," she whispered. "I will try to serve you well." Do not think things will be easy here for you," I said, "for there is a fee woman in the house." "I will obey her," said Lola, "and with perfection" "But do not forget," I said, "that it is I who owns you and not she." "I shall not forget Master," she smiled. then she kissed her finger tips and putting her hand through the bars, put her hand to my waist. "The Mistress will be home soon, and then doubtless, you will soon be set to chores." "Yes Master," said Lola. Lola now returned to the small table and, kneeling, head down, served us our dessert, slices of tospit, sprinkled with four Gorean sugars. "I see there may be some advantages to having a slave in the house," said Miss Henderson. "I never doubted it," I said. "Youmay serve the black wine now, in small cups, Lola," said Miss Henderson. "Yes Mistress," whispered Lola. This was a delicacy. I had purchased, some days ago, but we had not yet served it. In a few Ehn Lola returned with the tray, with the vessel of steaming liquid, the creams and sugars, the tiny cups and the small spoons for mixing and measuring. "Delicious," said Miss Henderson. "Thank you Mistress," said Lola. She then drew back a bit, and knelt, to be unobstrusive and yet available, instantly, to serve should free folk wish aught. "You are a very pretty girl, Lola," said Miss Henderson regarding her. "Thank you Mistress," said Lola, head down. "Men must find you attractive," said Miss Henderson. "Perhaps, Mistress," said Lola, "some men." I smiled to myself. The man who did not find Lola attractive must indeed be an inert dolt. "How long has you been a slave?" asked Miss Henderson. "Four years, Mistress," said Lola. "Have you have several Masters?" asked Miss Henderson. "Yes, Mistress," said Lola. "Have you served them as a slave?" she asked. "yes Mistress," said Lola. "As a full slave?" asked Miss Henderson. Lolo lowered her head further. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered. "Did you enjoy their hands on your body?" asked Miss Henderson. "Yes, Mistress," whispered Lola. "I see that you are a true slave," said Miss Henderson. "Incidentally," I said to Miss Henderson, "move your things out of the master bedroom." "It is my bedroom!" she said. "No," I said, "I am taking it. It is larger. And it has a porch, and a view of the garden and sky. I am renting the house. I am making it mine." "No!" she said. "Too," I said, "it has the great couch, the one with the slave ring at its foot. "I see," said Miss Henderson looking angrily at Lola. Lola did not raise her head, but knelt there, her knees close together, in the brief slave tunic. "I see," said Miss Henderson and rose to her feet, hurrying angrily upstairs. I finished my black wine, enjoying it. When I had finished, I permitted Lola to clear the table and address herself to the work in the kitchen. After a time, I went upstairs. Miss Henderson had cleared the room. I looked at the heavy iron slave ring, about eight inches in diameter, set in the stone of the great couch. I then went into Miss Henderson's room. She was sitting on the couch. "You did not knock," she said. "I need not knock to enter the room of my kept woman," I said. I then took my things from the room and put them into the master bedroom. I looked over the balustrade to the sky beyong. It was lovely. As I again started downstairs, I met Miss Henderson on the lasnding. She too was going downstairns. "You seem angry," I said. "Not I," she said. "Why are you goind downstairs" I asked. "To supervise the slave," she said. "Such girls are lazy and will do no work if they are not closly watched. I stepped aside and let her precede me down the stairs. She was a free woman, and a woman of earth. She was not a slave, who must heel her Master. "Come here Lola," I said. It was not in the early evening. Miss Henderson and I, with small cups of a Turian liqueur before us, lounged in the living room. A tharlarion-oil lamp lit the room. "Stand her," I told Lola. "Yes Master," she said. "Surely you are not angry," I said to Miss Hendrerson, "that I bought her?" I faced Lola away from me. I put my hands on her ankle. "Look at this ankle," I said. Lola trembled. "And these calves and thighs," I said, "and the luscious, central curves of her, and these breasts and shoulders." I put my hand under her chin lifting it up. "And this neck in my collar," I said, "and this head and face and this hair. Surely you can see that she was an excellent buy. "Yes," said Miss Henderson angrily, "she was an excellent buy." "When you have finished your work tonight, Lola," I said, "go up upstairs to the master bedroom. Take your clothes off and kneel there, by the slave ring, and await my pleasure." "Yes, Master," she said, and went then hurriedly to the kitchen. "Just like that?" asked Miss Henderson. "Of course, " I said. "She is a slave." "It must be pleasant to have such absolute power over a woman," she said. "Yes," I said. Rogue, pg 130 |
| One of the great fears of a slave girl is that she will be sold to a woman. 9:154 |