| ~Witness of Gor~ Written by John Norman (Copyright 2001 by John Norman) New World Publishers ~Cover~ "The long-awaited 26th novel in the best selling Gorean saga. Deep within the cells of Treve, a glorious and mysterious city at the center of Gor’s struggle for supremacy awakens a nameless slave girl who will witness events about which others will only dare to whisper. Abducted from Earth and dubbed Janice by her owners, this lovely girl learns the art of obedience and the erotic life that is required of a slave girl while watching the world of Gor tremble with its inner conflict. From her cell Janice can see the city’s splendor of majestic snowcapped mountains, a beauty marred only by the on-going struggle between the most powerful cities of Gor, Ar and Cos, and the presence of the Larl guardians waiting for an escapee. When Janice is assigned to care for a mysterious male prisoner the comfortable fabric of her days she has learned to accept begins to tear apart. She knows some-how he has a role in the escalating turmoil outside her bards, but he cannot recall anything of his life before his imprisonment. As her life is put in ever-increasing danger, Janice begins to question who this man she is instructed to care for is and when her ordeal will end.” ******************************************************************************************** ~Quotations from the book, Witness of Gor~ “You will learn to beg, in rational contexts, even more piteously,” he said. “Indeed, it will be important for you, to learn how to beg well. I do not mean merely that you will be taught to beg prettily, on your knees, and such things. I mean rather that upon certain occasions the only thing which might stand between you and the loss of your nose and ears, or life, may be the sincerity and excellence with which you can perform certain placatory behaviors.” ~Witness of Gor, page 31~ “I leaned forward a little, and reached out with my lips for the whip. In ecstasy, I kissed it. I kissed it lovingly and lingeringly. I think that I had never been so happy, or so fulfilled, as in those moments. Then, with my tongue, again and again, softly, tenderly, lovingly, I licked it. I could taste the leather. I feared only the moment when it would be taken from me." ~Witness of Gor, page 32~ “I had kissed his whip. I had thought that it had meant everything, but it had meant nothing. But, of course, in meaning nothing, it had, in its way, in a sense more grievous and fearful than I had understood at the time, meant everything. The kissing of the whip had been impersonal. I was, apparently, in this place, one for whom it was appropriate to kiss the whip. That was the kind which I was, whatever kind, in this place, that might be. The kissing of the whip had been impersonal. It made no difference whose whip it was. It could have been any whip. That was the lesson of the “second whip.” ~Witness of Gor, page 33~ “On your belly,” had said a man. I complied. It is unthinkable on this world that such a command not be obeyed instantly, or, at least, that one such as I not obey it instantly. And so I lay on my belly, on the colorful tiles, in one of the sales rooms in the pens. Too, of course, one does not simply sprawl on one’s belly. There are ways, diverse ways, of assuming this position. We are taught them. Other women, women unlike us, one supposes, do not know them. They, too, of course, can be taught. In this house, such a command, unqualified, requires that the head be turned to the left and the arms be placed down, beside the body, the palms up. A slightly different command requires the crossing of the wrists behind the back and the crossing of the ankles, as well. This is sometimes used when one is to be bound.” ~Witness of Gor, page 42~ “A second point is that one of the men, as I have indicated, spoke of me as having become even more beautiful since my arrival here. I think this is true, as mirrors and guards, have testified. The truest beauty, of course, comes from within, and, I suppose, from many sources. It may be, for example, a function of the lessening of inhibitions, and the removal of anxieties and internal contradictions. It may come from contentment, from happiness, from fulfillment, from joy, from such things. Such things cannot help but transform one’s expressions, one’s movements, one’s entire attitude and behavior. The beauty of the outside begins its journey from within.” ~Witness of Gor, page 51~ “And lastly it is only fair to mention, beyond such things, the subtleties of silking, of perfumes, of cosmetics, of adornment, and such. We are expected to know such things, and to utilize them to achieve desired effects.” ~Witness of Gor, page 51~ “He gestured to the grass, permissively. I sat back, on the grass, leaning back, on the palms of my hands. In this fashion one’s hands are rather behind one, and rather held in place, by one’s own weight. This position is one we are taught. In it, as is clear to us, we are more vulnerable.” ~Witness of Gor, page 61~ “It is said,’ he remarked,” that one such as you might be hot.” Why had he phrased that in such a fashion? Those such as I might well be “hot”! That was not unusual. Indeed, we had better be, if we knew what was good for us! If we were not sufficiently hot, or sufficiently pleasing, we could expect to be whipped, or worse! We were not the sort of women who could use our favors, or the coolness of our responses, to achieve our own ends. Those weapons, if weapons they were, were no longer at our disposal. We had been disarmed. If wars were involved here, women such as I had clearly lost them. We had been defeated, utterly. We were now the helpless, obedient conquests of men. But, more importantly, we were, it seems, women like us, selected with various parameters in mind, such as intelligence, beauty, and heat. Then, too, we were placed in a situation where reservations, qualifications, inhibitions, compromises, and such, were simply not permitted. And our natural heats, which are in all of us, were brought forth, and encouraged, and even trained. They were fanned into flame, until we found ourselves their victims and prisoners, frequently, helplessly, profoundly, periodically, recurrently dependent upon men for their quenching.” ~Witness of Gor, page 63~ “He pointed to the sandals, at his feet. He snapped his fingers. I hurried to kneel before him.” ~Witness of Gor, page 80~ “Two of the first things we are taught are the bathing and dressing of a man. I completed my ministrations by kissing his feet, of course, each in turn, and then backing a bit away, and kneeling, in common position.” ~Witness of Gor, page 80~ “But I suppose, by now, it is evident to all that I am a kajira, or sa-fora. But of course it is not evident! How could it be? Forgive me. You do not know these words. Aside from the words, of course, my condition, my status, is doubtless clear to you. Would it not be clear from the speaking of chains, and collars, and such? You may find it objectionable. I do not. I love it. In it I find my fulfillment, my happiness, my joy! Perhaps you think what I am is degrading, and perhaps it is, but, if so, it is a delicious, precious, joyful degradation which I treasure, and in which I thrive and prosper, and one I would not, at the expense of my very life, have otherwise. It is a thing of softness, heat, devotion, obedience, service, beauty, and love. In it I am happy, and fulfilled, completely, perfectly, totally as a total woman, as I could be in no other way. In brief, the word sa-fora means “Chain Daughter” or “Daughter of the Chain”. The word kajira, on the other hand, is by far the most common expression in Gorean for what I am, which is, as you have doubtless surmised, a female slave. Yes, slave. The male form is kajirus. The plural of the first word is kajirae, and of the second kajiri. As kajira is the most common expression in Gorean for a slave who is female, I suppose, it might, in English be most simply, and most accurately translated, as “slave girl.” In a collar, you see, understandably, all women are “girls.” Almost all slaves on Gor are female. There are, of course, male slaves, but most are laborers, working in the fields, in quarries, in mines, on roads, and such, in chains and under whips. Some women keep male silk slaves, but they are rare. The Gorean view is that slavery is appropriate for the female, and not for the male. A saying, a saying of men, of course, has it that all women are slaves, only that some are not yet in the collar. I know now, of course, as I did not earlier, that there are many free women on Gor, and, indeed, that most women on Gor are free.” ~Witness of Gor, pages 101 & 102~ “Here, on this world, I was an animal. I must obey. I was branded. I could be collared. I could be bought and sold. It could be done with me as others pleased. I had been brought here, to this world, to this fate. …………………… I was not unhappy.” ~Witness of Gor, page 107~ “On my old world nature had been feared. It must be denied, or distorted. Civilization was the foe of nature. On this world nature had been accepted, and celebrated. It was neither distorted or denied. Here, civilization and nature were in harmony. Here, it was not the task of civilization to disparage, condemn, and fight nature, with all the pathological consequences of such an endeavor, but rather to fulfill and express her, in her richness and variety, to enhance her and bedeck her with the glories of customs, practices and institutions.” ~Witness of Gor, page 113~ “Never on my old world had I been so conscious of my sex, and how important and wonderful, and beautiful it was. It was so special, and glorious, and tender, and different from that of a man. For the first time in my life, on this world, I had rejoiced in being a woman…………..Here I reveled in my differences from men, accepting what I was, for the first time, with joy.” ~Witness of Gor, page 120~ “Then I asked myself, who held the power ultimately? It was the men, of course. And for what purpose had I been brought to this world? What, now, was the meaning of my existence? To be pleasing, and serve men! That was now what I was for.” ~Witness of Gor, page 121~ “On this world I later learned, as I had already conjectured, there is no escape for one such as I. We are slaves, and will remain slaves, unless it is decided otherwise by our masters. And on this world, there is a well-known saying that only a fool frees a slave girl.” ~Witness of Gor, page 124~ “On this world I had not been permitted footwear. It is said that it need not be wasted on animals. It is also said that this helps us to understand that we are animals. It also serves nicely to contrast us with our betters, free women.” ~Witness of Gor, page 124 & 125~ “One of the early lessons one learns in the pens is that one is not permitted dignity or privacy.” ~Witness of Gor, page 127~ “But how contemptuous, and how regal, they had appeared, and so beautifully robed and veiled! Many, I was told, wore platforms of a sort on their feet, perhaps as much as eight to ten inches high, which would increase their apparent height, and, of course, protect their slippers from being soiled, for example, in the muddy streets.” ~Witness of Gor, page 131~ “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 stone, 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.” ~Witness of Gor, page 131~ “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. ……… "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 presense!…………. “You need have no fear,” he said. “They have been selected for their nature, which is that to be a woman’s slave.” ~Witness of Gor, page 132-133~ “May I speak, may I speak?” I begged. “No,” I was told. So I was silent.” ~Witness of Gor, page 134~ “I wanted to belong to one man, to serve him perfectly and wholeheartedly in all ways, and, hopefully, to be his only property of my sort. But men such as these, I feared, might have several such as I. Could such a man be content with but one of us? What if his whim, or mood, should change? I would try to be such, of course, that my rights holder would feel no need for another, indeed, I would try to be such that he would not even think of another.” ~Witness of Gor, page 141~ “He was a man not untypical of this world, in his size and strength. But, too, even more typical of this world, one could read in his eyes the absence of vacillation and confusion, the undivided nature of his character, the firmness, simplicity and unilaterality of his will. He did not belong to a world in which men, though deceit and trickery, and lies, and insidious, hypocritical conditioning programs, had been bled and weakened. On this world, at least where women such as I were concerned, men had kept their power. They had not surrendered their manhood, their natural dominance. In his eyes, you see, I saw the firmness of his character, the strength of his will, which was as iron. In his eyes, in a sense, you see, I saw, unpretentious and untroubled, the severity, the simplicity, the strictness, the rigor, the uncompromising relentlessness of nature.” ~Witness of Gor, page 143~ “The men of this world are terribly strict with us, but few of them are cruel. Their pleasure is found in the manifold perfections of our service, intimate and otherwise, and in our devotion and love, not in our distress or pain. These men keep their animals under perfect discipline, as is their way, but they also, on the whole, treat them well.” ~Witness of Gor, page 145~ “I had, incidentally, in the pens, been taught to walk gracefully, and to kneel, and pose, and such, in a leash. We are sometimes taken out in such fashions. There are also wrist leashes, usually worn on the right wrist of a right-handed girl, or on the left wrist of a left-handed girl, and ankle leases, similarly oriented. The point of the leash, of course, is seldom to hold or control a woman, for we are rational, and know we must obey, but rather to make it clear whose property she is, and to display her. Similarly, when a woman is leashed her status is made clear to her. Too, it might be mentioned that the leash has a profoundly erotic effect upon the female, as its meaning, and its symbolism of her domination, is profoundly arousing to her.” ~Witness of Gor, page 147~ “I had been conquered and enraptured, destroyed and renewed, rent in fragments and made whole, freed and enslaved, broken and created. And in the end, overwhelmed, struggling to comprehend, I had found myself more a slave than ever. The strongest chains, you see, are not those of iron, nor the strongest bonds those of steel. How frail are such things compared to the chains of desire, the bonds of need! Even now, as fulfilled as I had been, I could sense a growing restlessness in my body. To be sure, it can be dangerous to be too importunate. One can be whipped for it. But what men can do to a woman, had surely, in me, been at least begun. How natural it is, once one understands these things, to fall to one’s knees, begging plaintively. I knew myself, as I lay there, to be wholly a slave. It was what I should be, and was. How fortunate I was to have been made what I was ! How few women have been made what they are!" ~Witness of Gor, page 306~ “The opinion of s slave is worthless,” I said. “Why do you say that?” he asked. “I do not wish to offend Master,” I said. “Do you think because you have been put in a collar, you become less intelligent?” “No,” I said. “Slavery has many effects on a woman,” he said, “It softens her, it enhances her beauty, it gives her a profound sense of herself, it fulfills her, it increases, considerable, her sexual responsiveness, it increases a thousandfold her capacities to love, but one effect it does not have, it does not reduce her intelligence.” ~Witness of Gor, page 311~ “Intelligent women,” he said, “make excellent slaves.” ~Witness of Gor, page 312~ “When one is bond,” he said, “ one has obsolutely no choice—instant and unquestioning perfection of service is required.” ~Witness of Gor, page 321~ “Obeisance!” he said. Instantly I knelt forward, the palms of my hands on the floor, my head to the floor. “Lick and kiss,” he said. I scrambled forward and, head down, kissed and licked, swiftly, frightened, at his feet and sandals.” ~Witness of Gor, page 322~ “There are many varieties of slave garments,” I said, “which have their various purposes and utilities, such as display of the slave, the mockery or humiliation of the slave, the assurance of her instant availability, punishment garments, confinement garments, and such.”….. “But the important thing, really, about slave garments,” I said, “ whether they are the richest of gowns, with perhaps a slit in them through which a thigh must be revealed, or the tiniest of strings and slave strips, is that they are just that, slave garments. It is their meaning, primarily, which renders them provocative, that they are slave garments, that she who wears them is slave.” ~Witnes of Gor, page 345~ “That is slave wine,” I said, “free woman.” I regarded her with some satisfaction. I thought that she might now understand, a little bit better than before, what it might be to be a slave. “How can you drink it?” she asked. “Do you think we are given a choice?” I asked. She put the bowl down, unsteadily. “Will it work with a free woman?” she asked. “If she is a female,” I said. “Where do you think slave girls come from?” ~Witness of Gor, page 414~ “We want a man at whose feet we feel it is appropriate that we should kneel, as women, and slaves. We do not want an equal; that is not enough for us; we want more than that; we want a master. We want him to be strong, ambitious, aggressive, possessive, jealous, lustful, dangerous, dominant. We want him to guard us, and protect us, and own us, with masculine ferocity, to see us as his rightful properties. We want to feel ourselves as though we are nothing before his wrath and power. We want to feel that it is the most important thing in the world for us that we please him. We want him to be jealous of us, and fiercely possessive of us; we want to be important to him; we do not want to be ignored or neglected; we do not want to be taken for granted, or just be “there,” perhaps almost unnoticed, as are so many “wives” of earth; the slave, I assure you, receives a great deal of attention, perhaps more than she sometimes cares for; she, in her service, and subject to his command and domination, is muchly noticed; one of the cruelest of punishments he can inflict upon us is to subject us to the same neglect and indifference commonly accorded to an Earth “wife”; how we strive to be pleasing to him, that that will not occur; but it seldom occurs; better the mercy of the slave lash; he must want to keep track of us, for we are his possessions; he must want to know our thoughts, our whereabouts, and our every action. He desires us, he lusts for us and we are his, and so he is jealous of us and inordinately possessive of us, his relished goods, his coveted prizes, his properties, his slaves, and so he keeps us on a short leash.” ~Witness of Gor, pages 459 & 460~ “Why then,” he demanded, “do I feel as I do?” “How is it that Master feels?” she begged. “I fear I have grown fond of a slave,” he said. “Cannot one grow fond of a slave, even of so small and unimportant a thing?” she asked. “Curse the codes!” he cried. “When shall we see one another again, Master?” she asked. “Never!” he wept. ~Witness of Gor, pages 496 & 497~ “I thought of the slave girl, Dorna. The earrings had been quite attractive on her. I suspected that she might now be quite fond of them. That seems to be the way it is with the women of this world. They fear them. Then they love them. To be sure, they also made her only a pierced-ear girl.” ~Witness of Gor, page 500~ “The slave was now in two collars, the holding collar and, just above it, the identification collar, that by means of which she can be identified, as belonging to a particular individual. As soon as the identification collar was in place, the guard of the court removed the holding collar. There had been no moment, then, when the slave had not been in at least one collar.” ~Witness of Gor, page 516~ “Needless to say, caste members do not always wear the caste colors. For example, a scribe would normally wear his blue when working but not always when at leisure. Goreans are fond of color and style in their raiment. They tend to be careful of their appearance and often delight in looking well.” ~Witness of Gor, page 519~ “In bondage it is your heart, your love, that blossoms.” ~Witness of Gor, page 524~ “The common kajira mark, of course, which I myself wore, is a lovely brand. It may be the most familiar brand on Gor for a female slave, but that does not make it any the less beautiful. Indeed, I suspect it is the most common brand because it is the most beautiful, or surely one of the most beautiful….The brand, small and tasteful, but momentous in its meaning, much enhances the beauty of a woman, both aesthetically and cognitively….The most common brand site is the left thigh, under the hip. This site is analogous to that used on a multitide of other forms of domestic animal, verr, tarsks, bosk, and such.” ~Witness of Gor, page 529~ “Free women may make men miserable, and even attempt to destroy them, but slaves may not do so. It is ours, rather, to strive to be pleasing to our masters.” ~Witness of Gor, page 538~ “Sleen are trained variously. The five most common trainings are those of the war sleen, which may also be utilized as a bodyguard; the watch sleen, to guard given precincts; the herding sleen, which will kill only if the quarry refused to be herded rapidly and which will kill only if the quarry refused to be herded rapidly and efficiently to a given destination, usually a pen or slave cage; the trailing sleen, which is used, in leash, to follow a scent; and the hunter, which is trained to hunt and kill. It is next to impossible to use a hunter as a trailer, because, when the quarry is near, and the killing fever is on it, it will even turn and attack its leash holder, to free itself for the strike on the quarry. A trailer is usually a smaller beast, and one more easily managed, but it is, when all is said and done, a sleen, and trailers not unoften, at the hunt’s end, their instincts preponderating, break loose for the kill. When they begin to become unmanageable they must be killed. The hunters are used generally, of course, in the pursuit of fugitives, free or slave. Unleashed, they are not retarded in their hunt by the lagging of their keepers. I was terrified of sleen. I had seen how they could tear apart great pieces of meat. Most houses in which female slaves may be found, it might be mentioned, as it may be of interest to some, would not have sleen. The sleen is, at least in civilized areas, a rare, expensive and dangerous beast. They do abound in some areas in the wild, as, for example, in the surrounding mountains. The sleen often burrows, and it is predominantly nocturnal. There are also several varieties of the animal apparently, adapted to diverse environments. The most common sleen in domestication, as I understand it, is the forest sleen. It is also the largest, animal for animal. There are also, as I understand it, prairie sleen, mountain sleen and snow sleen. There is a short-haired variety found in some tropical areas, the jungle sleen. And one variety, it seems, is adapted for an aquatic environment, the sea sleen.” ~Witness of Gor, pages 575 & 576~ “Whereas the Gorean slave girl commonly heels her master, her master sometimes orders her to walk before him, for the pleasure of seeing her walk. And if she knows what is good for her she had best walk beautifully. This also gives him an opportunity to assess her interest to other men, for example, to see if men look after her, as she passes. This gives him some sense of her value. How much would she be likely to bring, for example, exhibited on a slave block? This is useful if he should be thinking of selling her, but it also tends to be of independent interest, and not only to the master, but also to the slave. We are very curious to know, vain beasts that we are, what men might pay for us, if we were to be offered for sale." ~Witness of Gor, page 582~ “Truth is a strange thing. There is a danger in seeking it, for one might find it. That one does not like a truth does not make it false. How few people understand that! But there are many sorts of truths, as there are flowers and beasts. Some truths are hard and cold, and sharp, and if one touches them one might cut oneself and bleed. Some truths are like dark stones which do little more than exist unnoticed; others are green with the glow of life, like moist grass rustling in the morning sun; some truths are like frowns; and some are like smiles. Some are friendly; others are hostile; and, in both cases, their nature is just what it is, not what they may be said to be. Politics is not the arbiter of truth; it may be the arbiter of comfort, safety, conformity, and success, but it is not the arbiter of truth; the arbiter of truth is the world and nature; they have the last say in these matters. Many may wish it were not the case; and many will pretend it is not the case; but it is, for better or for worse, the case. Truth does not care whether it is believed or not; similarly, stone walls and cliffs do not care whether they are noted or not; so then let us leave it to the individual to do as he thinks best. Truth, the stone wall, the cliff, are not enemies; but they are real.” ~Witness of Gor, page 586~ “I think then that I should mention, perhaps, particularly given the fact that an earlier paragraph might be misconstrued, and that the frightening condition it references might be understood as being typical of a given form of relationship, that there is a lovelier, warmer, more beautiful, benign sense, of “finding security on a chain.” It is one familiar to thousands of loving slaves. In a typical bondage, one is cared for, nourished, sheltered, nurtured, protected, and often loved. Certainly, one is, at least, desired and lusted for. How many wives, I wonder, are lusted for. One respects wives; one lusts for slaves; wives are free, and are to be treated with dignity and circumspection; slaves are owned, and are suitable objects to be put to one’s pleasure. The wife consents, if she feels like it, and is so inclined; the slave obeys. The wife may dole out her favors by carefully measured spoonfuls, like medicine, in a regimen designed to reduce and torment, and thus to control, an angered, frustrated, confused, manipulated, indoctrinated, unquestioning, childlike patient; the slave kneels and hopes to be found pleasing. The powerful, healthy man is aggressive and lustful; what is he to do when he realizes at least he has been mistreated, denied, cheated, starved, and shamed; he may rise up with a snarl; let the wife be dismayed to discover she is to her horror then in the vicinity of a man; what does he care; let him kick the pedestal from beneath her, and find her a collar; or let him turn his back upon her inert, righteous petulance and seek something a thousand times more desirable; what he needs, and wants, a slave; the slave does not denounce the lusts of the master; she endeavors to satisfy them, and, in this, finds her own womanhood; she does not want a weak man; she wants a strong man, and a whole man, one it is fit for her to serve; how absurd, how embarrassing, how psychologically futile, how intellectually preposterous, to reveal one’s actual nature, one’s health and power, one’s lust, to an offended, glorious free woman, or to waste it up on her reluctant, anesthetic body; away with the very thought; what could he be thinking of; let him seek rather a slave; the slave, you see, is the object on which it is appropriate for a man to ventilate his lust. Indeed, it is one of the things she soon learns she is for. She also learns that the human male, when he has what he wants from a woman, and fully, and with perfection, is, within the limits of the mastery, a pleasant, kindly, happy, wonderful thing. She is awed, and fulfilled, by this relationship. And, of course, it is she who, subject to his rule, and responsible to his will, has bought this about, not that she was—you understand—given any choice. She wishes to please him, of course, but she knows also that she is a slave and must do so. For even a minor error or laxity she knows she may find herself under the whip. She finds this subjection to the male domination thrilling, and reassuring. Her master is not weak. There are clear standards, limitations, and requirements. She must be careful of them. Commonly, they are made clear to her, and the nature of the penalties which will be imposed for the least infraction thereof. She must be a pleasing slave. She is happy. This is surely one of the deepest and most profound relationships in which woman can stand to a man, that of slave to master, and, ideally, that of love slave to love master. It is no wonder then that we sometimes kiss our fingertips and press them to our collars, that we humbly lift and kiss the bracelets that link our wrists so helplessly, so closely, together.” ~Witness of Gor, pages 586 – 588~ “We are his. Let those who can understand these things understand how it is that a slave can love her bondage, and that she would never exchange it for the jejune inanities and boredoms of freedom—how it is that she can lie contentedly, happily, at the foot of a man’s couch, chained to his slave ring. Some, I suppose, will find this incomprehensible. There is nothing for it then, but to allow them to continue in their ignorance.” ~Witness of Gor, page 588~ “But perhaps we should all be grateful when granted permission to speak. Women love to speak. It is one of our great pleasures. Therefore, that we must request this privilege well reminds of who is Master.” ~Witness of Gor, page 639~ “Yes!” he cried. “I love you, you worthless slut, you meaningless thing! I have loved you, madly, insanely, uncontrollably, recklessly, violently, from the first moment I saw you!” “Master,” I breathed, unable to believe my ears. “Yes!” cried he. “Call me ‘Master’! It is fitting, for you are a slave, and will never be other than that!” “Yes, Master!” I said. “You are no more than a branded slut, no more than meaningless, worthless collar meat!” he cried. “Yes, Master!” I cried. “You are unworthy to be a free woman!” “I hope so, Master,” I said “What?” he cried. “—I hope so, Master,” I whispered. “Slave!” he sneered. “Yes, Master,” I said. “It is true. That is what I am.” “Disgusting!” he said. “No!” I cried. “No!” “Do you dare speak back to me?” he cried. “With master’s permission!” I cried. “You will never be a free woman!” he said. “Nor do I wish to be a free woman!” I said. “ have been free! I know what it is like! I am content to be a slave, and wish to be a slave! I am fulfilled in bondage, in ways that you, a man, or some men, may never understand! Oh, yes, you enslave us for your gratifications and pleasures, you monsters, you beasts! But what you do not know is that we love our bonds, and our belonging, and our being owned, and being helplessly subject to the magnificence, the glories, even to the whip, of your total, uncompromised mastery of us! Do you not know we want men to be strong ,and our masters? Let the twisted and hormonally deficient conceal their seekings of power under the pratings of rhetorics. Let other of us who long to love and serve, and obey, and be desired, dream of masters!—yes masters!!—our masters! He look down upon me, and I realized that these things to him, a man of Gor, were not that strange. He knew something of our needs. He was not a stranger to the nature of females. “I am a slave,” I whispered. “It is well know to me that you are a slave.” ~Witness of Gor, page 700~ “I am a slave inwardly, in my need, and in my love, and in my nature! It is what I am! Despise me for it, if you wish! I am a natural slave, a rightful slave, and here, on this world, in my collar, I have found myself at last! Hate me! Hold me in contempt! But I am a slave, and I love being a slave; I love it! I love it! Do not try to force me to be what you want me to be! Rather accept me for what I want to be, and am!—one who knows she belongs at the feet of men!—and desires to be at the feet of men!—their slave!!—their loving slave!” ~Witness of Gor, pages 700 & 701~ “Do not dare to close your knees,” he snarled, “slave! You are before your master!” ~Witness of Gor, page 704~ “I looked down at the knife……………..”Pick it up,” he said. “Surely I may not touch it, Master,” I said. “It is a weapon.” In many cities, it is a capital offense for a slave to touch a weapon. “Must a command be repeated?” he asked. “No, Master,” I said. I lifted the knife, timidly.” ~Witness of Gor, page 707~ “I confess myself master’s love slave,” I whispered. “My love slave?” “Yes, my master,” I said. “I know that you may not care for me. I know that you may despise me, that you may hate me. But it does not matter. I do not care. As worthless as my love may be, that of a meaningless slave, know that it is yours, unstintingly, irreservedly, all of it. It is yours, entirely. I am your love slave.” ~Witness of Gor, pages 710 & 711~ "It is not unusual on this world, incidentally, for men to prize such things as flowers. Perhaps all men have this softer side to their nature. I do not know. At any rate, men here, or most men here, do not seem to fear this part of themselves or attempt, perhaps for some cultural reason, to conceal it. Perhaps, given their culture, in which are secured their natural rights, those of manhood and the mastery, they can afford to be whole men here, not cultural or political half-men, of one sort or another.” Witness of Gor “Do you think that the meaning of an oath is the words it wears? It is rather what it celebrates and intends, the meaning behind the meanings of the words. Repudiated in words, it was revered in deeds. Denied, it was fulfilled. Forsworn, it was kept. Honor rejected was honor transformed, honor restored. How often do we seek to do one thing and discover we have done another? How often we achieve ends which we do not intend…..Honor has many voices, and many songs.” |
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