“When we dismantle,” said a man, “you could always drift back in the march and see Lady Sheila. She is a pretty little vulo in her cage.”
“They are all pretty in chains and behind bars,” said another man.
“I hate to think of them shoving an impaling spear up her ass,” said a man.
“I know an impaling spear I’d like to shove up her ass,” said another man.
There was laughter.
– John Norman, Kajira of Gor
© 2013, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
Though the Gorean coin girl is commonly one of several girls, one of a stable thereof, so to speak, sent daily into the streets to earn money as the chattels they are for their master, under the penalty of whippings or tortures, or death, if their day’s work does not prove sufficiently lucrative, it is not unknown for this sensual charge to be also placed upon a private girl, usually as a punishment for having failed in some way, often trivial or negligible, to be fully pleasing. After having been sent into the humiliations and dangers of the streets it is a rare girl who does not hurry back, eager and chastened, to the intimate joys of a private slavery.
John Norman – Rogue of Gor
© 2013, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
When a slave is introduced into a new house, often carried over the threshold bound and naked, she is commonly tied and whipped; the purpose of this is to leave her in no doubt as to what she is in the new domicile; in this way she is assisted in understanding that within the new walls, in the new collar, under the new mastery, she is as much slave as before, and perhaps more. This status is not something which a wise master lets a woman forget, ever.
John Norman
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
“I will try to be better,” she said, struggling to her knees. “Let me please you tonight. I will give you pleasures you did not know exist. I will so please you that in the morning you will not wish to trade me.”
“It will not be easy,” said he, “—with your hands tied behind you.”
She looked at him, frightened.
John Norman – Explorers of Gor
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
Do you really want a collar? Think carefully. Gorean slavery, like others, is a true slavery. If it is done to you, it is not as if you could change your mind. You would then be owned. You would then be truly a slave. It would have been done to you. You are then merchandise. You are then an animal. You must expect to be marketed, to be bought and sold, and mastered, perfectly, completely. You would be subject, at a master’s discretion to the various accouterments of bondage. You might be chained. You might be whipped. You might be bound with ropes. You might wear cuffs. You might be led about, publicly, on a leash. You will learn to kiss, and kneel, and serve. Even your clothing, and whether or not you are permitted any, is at his discretion. Too, you must please him, in all ways. I wonder if you understand that. I hope so. So fear the collar, woman. It is on you. You cannot remove it. Yet it has its fascination, and its rewards, that is true. Else it would be incomprehensible why women long for masters.
– John Norman, Guardsman of Gor
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
She was furious, but yet I could see, too, as doubtless could the others, that she was sexually charged. She was naked, before clothed men. This can be sexually stimulating to a woman. It is hard for her, in such circumstances, not to see them as her masters and herself, before them, as an exposed slave.
John Norman, Explorers of Gor
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
“I hope to reflect credit upon my master,” she said.
“You will, or be beaten,” I said.
“Of course, Master.”
“You must keep yourself fastidiously beautiful, walk well, and such.”
“Yes, Master.”
The slave, of course, has no choice in such matters. She is her master’s property and is on display.
John Norman – Guardsmen of Gor
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
Girls commonly like seeing other girls being beaten, whom they think are too proud, or whom they don’t like. It is almost a holiday in the slave quarters when a high slave is to be whipped, particularly if she is then to be reduced to the status of a common girl. “Am I permitted to feel shame, humiliation?” she asked, angrily.
“Of course,” I said. “Those are emotions which are permitted to slaves.”
John Norman – Blood Brothers of Gor
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
How many men of Earth, I thought, used only to the stunted sexuality of their inert, chilled, reduced females would be astonished at discovering and encountering the needful, collared sluts of Gor. Sometimes they must be cuffed from one’s feet, lest their pleading and insistence, however softly piteous, become too annoying.
John Norman – Kajira of Gor
© 2012 – 2013, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.
“Can you understand me, my little she-quadruped?” asked my hostess. “Whimper once for ‘Yes,’ whimper twice for “No.’” Lale whimpered once.
“Good,” said my hostess. “You are a bright little she- quadruped.”
“Have you ever served as a she-quadruped before?” asked my hostess.
Lale whimpered twice.
“But you understand something of what is involved, do you not?” asked my hostess.
One whimper.
“For two weeks,” said my hostess, “or more, if I choose, you will be chained in the darkness, in one of the back alcoves, serving there as a speechless animal any who may come upon you or desire you.”
Lale groaned in pain.
“Do you understand?” asked my hostess.
Lale whimpered once.
“Take her away,” said my hostess.
Mercenaries of Gor, John Norman
© 2012, Andrew Conway. All rights reserved.