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Advice to a new Gorean Master
Do with her what you wish, it is the only thing that will truly fulfill her Do not ask the slave if the terms are acceptable, simply tell her your terms Make certain you get everything you want from her You must not yield to the temptation to be weak with her - she must know that you are not to be trifled with She must know she is always within your discipline She will naturally test the strength of your will, the boundaries of her slavery Buy a whip He reached down, awkwardly, to lift her up, but it seemed she fought him, struggling, and could not be raised higher than to her knees, and then, he desisting in amazement, she had her head down again, to his feet, in obeisance, and was kissing them. She was laughing, and crying. “I love you, Master!” she wept. “I love you! I will be hot, devoted and dutiful! I am yours! I will live to please you! I will live to love and serve you! I love you, my master!” She kissed him again, and again, about the feet, the ankles, the sides of the calves. Then she looked up at him, timidly, love bright in her eyes. “I will try to be a good slave to you, Master!” she said. “Surely I must free you!” he cried. “No!” she suddenly cried, in terror. “No?” he said. “No!” she said. “Please, no, my Master!” “I have waited too long for my slavery! It is what I have desired and craved all my life! Do not take it from me!” “I do not understand,” he said, haltingly. “I am not a man!” she said. “I am a woman! I want to love and serve, wholly, helplessly, unquestioningly, irreservedly, unstintingly! I want to ask nothing and to give all! I want to be possessed by you, to be yours literally, to be owned by you!” He was speechless. “My slavery is precious to me,” she said. “Please, Master, do not take it from me!” “What should I do?” he asked me, wildly. Lavinia, too, kneeling before him, her arms not about his legs, looked at me, wildly, pleadingly, tears in her eyes. “What do you want to do?” I asked him. “Truly?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. “She is beautiful!” he said. “Of course,” I said. “I want her,” he said. “Subject to what limits?” I asked. “To no limits,” he said. “Then it seems you want her wholly,” I said. “Yes,” he said, “wholly.” There is only one way to have a woman wholly,” I said, “and that is for her to be your slave, for you to own her.” (pg. 465) “Please, please Master!” wept Lavinia, looking up at Milo. “Please, Master!” “Do with her what you wish,” I said. “But she is a slave. It is the only thing which will truly fulfill her. It is the only thing which will make her truly happy.” “I do not know what to do?” he said. “What do you want to do?” I asked. “I want to own her!” he cried, angrily. “I want to own every inch of her, every particle of her, every bit of her, totally, every hair on her head, every mark on her body, all of her, all of her! I want to own her, completely!” “Yes, Master! Yes, Master!” said Lavinia. “It is what you want, and it is what she wants, too,” I said. “You understand,” said he to Lavinia, “that if I make this decision, it is made.” “Yes, Master!” she said. “Once it is made, it is made,” he said. “Yes, Master!” she said. “And that is acceptable to you?” he asked. “She is a slave,” I said. “It makes no difference whether it is acceptable to her or not. You are the master.” He looked down at Lavinia. “He is right, of course, Master,” she said. “My wishes are nothing, as they are only the wishes of a slave. My will is nothing, as it is only the will of a slave. I am at your mercy, totally. I am in your power, completely.” “Aii!” he said, understanding this. “Master?” she asked. “You are my slave,” he announced, accepting her. “I love you, Master!” she wept, putting her head against his thigh. “I own you,” he said, softly, wonderingly. “Yes, Master,” she said. “Truly,” he said. “Yes, my master!” she said. “It is one thing to own a woman,” I said, “and it is another to have her within the bonds of an excellent mastery.” “Undoubtedly,” he said. “I do not think you have had much experience at this sort of thing,” I said. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t.” “Perhaps you, slave girl,” I said to Lavinia, “can teach him something about the handling of slaves.” “Of course, Master,” she smiled. “You must make certain that you get everything you want from her,” I said, “and then, if you wish, more, even a thousand times more.” “Aii!” he said. “All is your due,” I said. “She is a slave.” “How can I believe such happiness?” he asked. “Do not yield to the temptation of being weak with her,” I cautioned him. “She loves you, but she must also fear you. She must know that, you are not to be trifled with. She must know herself to be always within your discipline.” “I understand,” he said. “And as she is female,” I said, “she may occasionally, curious, foolishly, particularly at first, wish to test the strength of your will, to discover, if you like, the boundaries of her condition.” “Master!” protested Lavinia. “It is then up to you to teach her what they are, promptly, decisively, unmistakably.” “I understand,” he said. “She wants to know, so to speak, the length of her chain, the location of the walls of her cell. Too, she wants to be reassured of your strength. She wants to know that you are her master, truly, in the fullness of reality. Having learned this, she need not be so foolish in the future. She will have discovered that stone is hard and that fire burns. Thenceforth she will be in her place, pleased and content.” “The whip, tell him of the whip, Master!” said Lavinia. “It is a symbol of authority, and an instrument of discipline,” I said. “The slave is subject to it. Some masters think it is useful to occasionally use it on a slave, if only to remind her that she is a slave.” “How could anything so beautiful be touched with the leather?” he asked. “That we learn to obey, and who is master!” laughed Lavinia. “Buy a whip,” I advised him. “Yes, Master,” said Lavinia. “You wish me to buy a whip?” asked Milo of the slave. “Yes, Master!” she said. “But, why?” he asked. “So I well know that I must obey, and be pleasing!” she said. “I see,” he said. “And that you will have a convenient implement at hand for enforcing my discipline,” she said. “A whip, of course, is not absolutely necessary,” I said. “There are many other means of enforcing discipline.” (Side note - see also Complete ownership of slaves) “True,” said Lavinia. “But there is much to be said for the whip,” I said. “It is perhaps the simplest, most practical device for such purposes. It is also traditional. Also, of course, it has symbolic value.” Lavinia, on her knees, looked up at Milo, her master. “Yes, Master!” she said. “You truly think I should get a whip?” asked Milo. I was pleased that he had addressed this question to me, and not to Lavinia. He was beginning, I noted, to get a sense of the mastery. The decision in such matters lay among free men, not with slaves. Lavinia looked up at, smiling. She, too, to her delight, recognized that she had been left out of the matter. Milo was learning, quickly, how to relate to her, namely, as her master. She was a slave. Such decisions would be made by others. She would not participate in them, but, as was appropriate for a slave, simply abide by their consequences. “Certainly,” I said. He pondered the matter. “And,” I said, glancing down at Lavinia, “if she is not pleasing, use it on her, literally, and well.” He swallowed, hard. She put down her head, shyly. “She is a slave,” I said, “not a free companion, who may not be touched, to whom nothing may be done, even if she turns your life into a torture, even if she drives you mad, even if she intends to destroy you, hort by hort.” “She is so beautiful,” he said. “It is hard to think of touching her with the whip.” “Sometimes,” I said, “it is the most beautiful who are the most in need of a whipping.” “May I speak?” asked Lavinia. “Yes,” said Milo. “Too, Master,” said Lavinia. “I love you, so I want you, sometime, or sometimes, to whip me.” He regarded her, puzzled. “I want to know I am your slave,” she said. “I do not understand,” he said. “Teach me that you are my master.” “I do not understand,” he said. “It has to do with being subject to the master,” I said , “with being truly his.” “Interesting,” said Milo. “For a female,” I said, “I would recommend the wide-bladed, five stranded whip.” Lavinia looked up, startled. She had not anticipated, it seemed, that whip. Doubtless she already regretted her recent tolerances and enthusiasms. If it were to be to that particular implement that she was to be subject, matters, it seemed, were to be viewed suddenly in a quite different perspective. On Gor, slave girls live in terror of that whip. It is designed for the female slave, to correct her behavior with great effectiveness while not leaving lasting traces, which might reduce her value. “Is anything wrong?” I asked Lavinia. “I will try to be pleasing to my master,” she said. “I am sure of it,” I said. “It seems she knows that whip,” he said. “She has at least heard of it,” I said. “With it on your wall, I have little doubt she will prove to be a most excellent slave, particularly if she has once felt it. It is an excellent tool. You can buy one for as little as one or two copper tarsks.” Magicians gorean_librarian@yahoo.com 
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