John Norman - Rouge of Gor

I nodded. the culural penalties inflicted on those who speak the truth can be severe. "I kept silent," she said, "and longed for a master." "Is not freedom precious?" I asked.

"I have been free," she said. "I know what it is like." "Is it not precious?" I asked. "Yes," she said, "It is precious, very precious. and sometimes I miss it very much. Sometimes I wish I were again free. Sometimes when I am chained aat night or whipped or commaned and must do things I do not wish to do, I wish I were again free. And sometimes, I am terribly afrid when I think of the power my masters have over me." "I see," I said.

"But then too, " she said. "I find myself exquisitely thrilled, and responsive to the very power, the force, the discipline, to which I am subject. To know that I am a slave and must obey fulfills something very deep in me."I see," I said. "Sometimes at night," she said, "I find myself almost without thinking about it, licking the bars of my cage, kissing the steel on my wrists."

"Do you fear your masters?" I asked. "Of course," she said, "they hold over me the power of life and death." "But yet, " I asked, "you find them terribly exciting?" "I find them terribly exciting," she said, "both emotionally and physically. I can scarcely be near them without catching my breath, without feeling slightly afraid and trembling.

"They own you," I said."Yes," she said. "When they look upon you, do you feel sexual heat?" I asked. "Often," she said. "and if they should snap their fingers and point to the floor," I asked. "Then I would swiftly lie before them, and as a slave," she said.

"You are eager to please them?" I asked. "Yes," she said," and I am their slave." She smiled at me. "Do these responses," she asked, "startle you, coming as they do from a woman once of Earth?" "There seems little in you now of Earth," I said.

"True," she smiled. She pulled at the tongs. "I am now only a Gorean slave girl," she said.I said nothing.

"The women of Earth are also women," she said. "Do not despise them for it. Accept them for what they are. There is nothing wrong with being a woman. It is the complementary sex to that of the male. It is nor our fault if, when placed in a proper contest, a biological context, in a biologically congenial civilization, we behave as we desire and must. Is your anger or dismay actually an envy of the Gorean brutes who throw was to their feet and put collars on our necks? Consider that. It may be true. Would you not like some delicious Earth woman as your total slave? If so, how are you so different from the brutes of Gor, who do with us as they wish? It is not our fault if, for whatever reasons, the men of Earth seem determined to turn us into men, and deny to ur our precious and ancient natures. It is hard to be a woman on Earth." She pulled again at the thongs. "But is is not hard, Master on Gor," she smiled. "Gorean men see to it."

"You are a slave," I said. "Are you happy?" "Yes," she said, "radiantly happy." "Why?" I asked.

"I am now in the power of uncompromising and cominant males. I must serve them and please them and as a woman fully. I am owned by them. They bring the fullness of my womanhood out of men and are content with nothing less. On Gor, for the first time in my life, I am a total woman. I am compltely fulfilled. I am incredibly happy."

"You are fond of your slavery?" I asked. "I love my slavery, Master," she said. "Would you like to go back to Earth?" I asked. "No, Master," she said. I regarded her. "See my brand," she said.

I did so. I tws the common Kajira mark. It was the same brand worn by Miss Henderson. Both girls were lelft-thigh branded. "My collar," she said.I regarded it. It was simple, narrow, close-fitting, of gleaming steel. "The thongs on my wrists," she said. I looked at her bound writs.

"And my naked body," she said, "tied for a master's pleasure." "Yes," I said. "Am I not an exquisite slave girl?" she asked. "Yes," I said.

"And yet," she said, "I am from the planet Earth. Canyou doubt, truly, then that the women of Earth can be slaves?" No," I said, "I do not doubt it."

"Perhaps you do doubt it," she said. "No," I said, "No."

"Untie me," she said. "Why?" I asked. "I will prove to you that I am a slave," she said. I looked at her not speaking. "Have you held slave inyour arms?" she asked. "Yes," I said, "many times." "sek then," she said, "if I am different.I regarded her.

"Touch me," she begged. I smiled, ignoring her plea. She learned back, her writs bound at the rings. "You are clearly Gorean," she said. "I see that I must wait upon your will."

I sat, cross-legged, for some time, watching her. Then her eyes looked pleadingly at me. I could smell the heat of her. "do you beg to be had and as a slave?" I asked. "Yes Master," she whispered. "I beg to be had, and as a slave." I then slowly untied her.

"So," she asked later, smiling, lying on her stomach beside me, "am I so different?" "No," I said. "You well put me to the test," she laughted. I touched the collar, lightly, at her throat. "Do you doubt that I am a slave"?" she asked. "No," I said. "You see," she said, "that I am a superb slave." "It is true," I said. "Have I not been appropriately and fittingly imbonded?" she asked. "You have been," I said.

"Do I not belong in a slave collar?" she asked. "There is no doubt about it," I said. "You do."

Tasdron had me for a silver tarsk," she said. "A cheap price," I said. "You are worth more." "I am better now," she said, "than when Tasdron bought me. I have learned much." "I would say that you are worth now at least two silver tarsks." "Thank you Master," she wais, warmly, kissing me. "It is hard to believe that you are from Earth." I said. She laughed. "But I am Master," she said. "You saw me there yourself in the restaurant."

"Yes," I said. "When you saw me there," she asked, "did you want to have me?" "Yes," I said. "Master," she said. "Yes," I said. "When I saw you too at the restaurant," she said. "I wondered what it would be like to lie in your arms." "A bold admission," I said. "For an Earth girl who thinks she is free, perhaps," she laughted, "but not for a slave. Slaves may speak such truths." "That is true," I said. "But never for a moment did I dream," she said, "that I would lie naked in your arms as an obedient, collared slave on an alien world."

I then took her by the arm and threw here again beneath me. She looked up happily. "Is Master going to have me again?" she asked. "Yes," I said.

"Peggy is pleased to have been found worthy of the attentions of Master," she said. "Oh," she said, "Master is strong." Then she said, "You are Gorean. I know you are Gorean!" Then she said, "I yield me to my Gorean Master!"

It is pleasant to have a woman yield to you as a slave. I know of nothing which so exalts the power and manhood of the human male. Too there is apparently nothing which so deeply releases the emotions and yielding sensuality of the human female.

In these matters something is touched which obviously bears deeply on the fundamental nature of the sexes.Here in human relations is yet another exemplification of one of the major and incessantly recurrent themes of nature, that of dominance and submission. The realities of nature must be denied, I suspect, only at one's own peril. And certainly human beings cannot be fulfilled, nor can they know themselves, until they have become themselves. The nature of human being precedes the fleeeting parades of mottoes and slogans. It lies latent and obdurate in ambush, if you like, in the genetic codes.

"Permit me to kiss you," she said. "You may do so," I told her.

Is there a human animal beneath the conditioned ideologies? It seems not improbably. We may torture and mutilate the human animal; we may deny that it exists; but it lies within us, in the chemistry of every living cell in our bodies. In denying it we, truly, deny only ourselves. In hating it, we hate our own hearts and our own blood. We are not so terrible, really. It is only that we are men and women and not something else. Perhaps it is wrong to be men and women. Perhaps we should be something else. Perhaps we should consider ourselves images and inventions.Perhaps we whould participate in the mythologies convenient to the manipulative purposes of self-seving elites. Doubtless the question if difficult. It is always hard to know the truth and pretnd not to believe it. Perhaps we should not be men and women. Perhaps we should not be true to ourselves. But even if we should deny ourselves and starve and orture and frustrate ouselves, we wold still in the end be ourselves. We would remain men and women, only then, perhaps mutilated and sickened men and women, useful tools in the schemes of others, of cunning an dpathological frustrates, themselves often as confused and miserable as the uncritical creatures they would systematicaly delude.