Gorean Commands and Positions

Duties:  Exquisite Beauty; Absolute Obedience; Please Men

Sexuality

“It is important for them,” added Ho-Tu, “from time to time to be able to cry and scream.”
“But this is now a silent period, it seems,” I said.
“Yes,” said Ho-Tu, “until tomorrow morning at the fifth bar.”
“But what if they are not silent?” I asked.
“They would be lashed,” said Ho-Tu.
“It has only been necessary to lift the whip,” said the guard. “They do not speak the language, but they are not fools. They understand.”
“Each girl in her processing,” said Ho-Tu, “after her fingerprinting, is given five strokes of the lash, that she may feel it and know what it means. After that, to ensure prompt obedience, it is commonly enough to merely move one’s hand toward the leather.”  ASSASSIN OF GOR; 5; Page 127

“What is the duty of a slave girl?” I inquired.
“Absolute obedience,” she said, frightened.
“What are you?” I inquired.
“A slave girl,” she said.
“What is your duty?” I asked.
“Absolute obedience,” she cried out.
I looked out to sea. The two lanterns were now closer.
“Kneel,” I told Tina.
She did so immediately, frightened, her head to the ground.
Some four hundred yards away from shore, by my conjecture, the two lanterns stopped. There was then a third lantern, lower that the other two.
I took the slave whip from my belt and touched Tina on the shoulder with it.
She looked up, frightened.
“Please do not beat me,” she whispered.
I held the whip before her. “Kiss the whip,” I told her.
She did so, and looked up at me, pleading.
“Absolute obedience,” I told her.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, terrified. “Absolute obedience.”
“Here are your instruction,” I said.  HUNTERS OF GOR; 8; Pages 258-259

“Do free women on Gor not wear earrings?” asked Alyena.
“Never,” I said.
“Only slave girls?”
“Only the most degraded of slave girls,” I said. “Are you not shamed?”
She laughed, merrily. “Slaves are not permitted pride,” she said proudly.
She turned her head from side to side, the loops swinging.
“Many slave girls,” I said, “once they become used to earrings, come to love them, and even beg them of their masters.”
“I love mine,” she said.
“Only a collar makes a woman more beautiful.” I said.
“I wear both!” said Alyena. She lifted her head, smiling.
“But surely you object?” I inquired.
“Oh, certainly!” she said, quickly. She looked at me. “A slave girl is supposed to object, is she not?”
“I suppose so,” I said.
“Then,” she said, smiling, “I suppose that I object.”
“But your master does with you what he pleases?” I asked.
She squared her shoulders. She stood very straight. Her eyes flashed. “My master,” she said, “does with me precisely what he pleases. He is not weak!”
“I did not mean to imply that he was,” I said.
“My will must bend to his, perfectly, completely, in all I am nothing. He is all. He is the master.”
“I see,” I said.
“I am owned,” she said. “He commands perfect obedience in me. I have no choice but to give it. I am his slave.”
“And how do you feel about this?” I asked.
She looked at me. Then she said, “I love it.”  TRIBESMEN OF GOR; 10; Pages 138-139

“Forgive me, Master,” she cried. “I love you!” She had risked her life to return to Hassan. She loved him. Yet a slave girl owes her master absolute obedience. She had violated his will in two particulars. I did not think it would go easily with her. Love on Gor does not purchase a girl lenience; it does not mitigate her bondage, nor compromise her servitude, but rather renders it the more complete, the more helpless and abject.  TRIBESMEN OF GOR; 10; Pages 214-215

“Tarl!” she cried.
There was a sudden pounding on the door. I slipped instantly behind the girl, my hand over her mouth, my dagger across her throat. She could feel its edge.
“You will not cry out or give the alarm,” I told her.
She nodded, miserably. I removed my hand from her mouth.
“Vella! Vella!” called a voice. There was more pounding.
“Do you not trust me, Tarl?” she asked, softly. “
“You are a slave girl,” I whispered. “Answer.” The knife was still at her throat.
“Yes, Master!” called the girl.
“You know that at the twentieth hour you are to give pleasure to the guards in the north tower!” called the man.
“I am applying my cosmetics,” she called, “I shall hurry!”
“If you are late by so much as five, Ehn, “ he called, “you will be caressed by the five fingers of leather.” This was an allusion to the Gorean five-strap slave whip, commonly used on girls because of the softness and width of its lashes. It punishes severely but, because of its construction, does not permanently mark the girl.
“I hurry, Master! I hurry!” cried Vella.
The man left.
“You are in great danger,” said Vella. “You must flee.” I sheathed the dagger I had held her in obedience with.
“Those in the kasbah are in greater danger than I,” I smiled.  TRIBESMEN OF GOR; 10; Pages 314-315

"Quiet is the night," called one of the camp guards, and this call was echoed by the others.
Again, three times, I heard the cry of the fleer.
My master slipped behind me. He held me, with his left hand. I felt, from the side, his knife slip beneath the veils at my face and throat. Then the knife's edge, I feeling it, thin, obdurate, pressed at my jugular.
"What is the duty of a slave girl?" he asked.
"Absolute obedience, Master," I whispered, frightened. "Absolute obedience." I scarcely dared to whisper, for fear of moving my throat beneath the knife.
I felt the knife leave my throat. I felt the black cloak in which I had been wrapped, concealing the largely white, rich, shimmering raiment in which I had been robed, slipped away.
"Run," said my master, indicating a path through the trees, past the far end of the camp. "And do not let yourself be captured."
He thrust me from him and I, miserable, confused, began to run.
I had gone no more than a dozen steps when I heard one of the guards at the camp cry out, "Halt! Stand! Name! City! Stand!" I did not stop, but pressed on.
"Who is it?" cried a man. "A free woman!" I heard. "Is it the Lady Sabina?" I heard cry. "Stop her!" I heard. "After her!"
I ran, madly.
The men, as I now think of it, must have been as confused as I was. I knew only that I feared them, and had been commanded to run. Too, my master had told me to avoid capture. Ignorant, wild, terrified, I ran.  SLAVE GIRL OF GOR; 11; Pages 117-118

"I have abused your slave," said Bran Loort.
"That is what slaves are for," said Thurnus.
"We took much pleasure in her!" said Bran Loort, angrily.
"Did you find her pleasing?" asked Thurnus.
"Yes," said Bran Loort. He gripped the long, heavy staff more firmly, standing ready.
"Then," said Thurnus, "it will not be necessary for me to beat or slay her."
Bran Loort looked puzzled.
"Surely you know, Bran Loort," said Thurnus, "it is the duty of a slave girl to be fully and completely pleasing to men. Were she not so she would be subject to severe punishment, including even torture and death, should it be the master's wish."
"We took her without your permission," said Bran Loort.
"In this," said Thurnus, "you have committed a breach of code."
"It does not matter to me," said Bran Loort.
"Neither a plow, nor a bosk, nor a girl may one man take from another, saving with the owner's saying of it," quoted Thurnus.
"I do not care," said Bran Loort.
"What is it, Bran Loort, that separates men from sleen and larls?" asked Thurnus.
"I do not know," said Bran Loort.
"It is the codes," said Thurnus.
"The codes are meaningless noises, taught to boys," said Bran Loort.
"The codes are the wall," said Thurnus.  SLAVE GIRL OF GOR; 11; Page 226

"What are my duties?" I asked.
"Exquisite beauty and absolute obedience," said Sucha.
I looked at the girl in the mirror. I remembered the words of Thurnus. "You belong at the feet of men," he had said. I looked at the girl in the mirror. Her ankle was belled. She was beautiful. She was a collared, silked, perfumed slave. She was very beautiful. I had no doubt she belonged at the feet of men. She was a slave girl. She was I.
"Exquisite beauty and absolute obedience," said Sucha.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.  SLAVE GIRL OF GOR; 11; Pages 261-262

“And on Gor,” she said, “you are a slave.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“On Gor,” she said, “we do not accept disobedience in slaves, not the least disobedience, is that clearly understood?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“Beyond that,” she said, “a slave is expected to be fully pleasing, fully. Is that understood, perfectly?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
...
“You are, as far as I know,” she said, “the first male of Earth brought to Gor as a slave.”  FIGHTING SLAVE OF GOR; 14; Pages 56-58

It must be understood, of course, that the slave’s sexuality is imbedded in an entire matrix of obedience, love and service. In her heart and mind these things are inextricably, and delicately and beautifully, intertwined. Her sexuality, commanded of her by her master, by the whip, if necessary, is, in one sense, but one aspect and expression of her total bondage; she serves fully, and in all things; yet; in another sense, her entire condition is, in its way, an expression of the depth, complexity and beauty of her sexuality. She ties her master’s sandals; she looks up at him; she loves; she serves; she is the female. The slave girl, it might be mentioned, in connection with the “releasing effects” of the collar, is relieved of many social pressures to which the free woman, because of her freedom, must remain subject. The free woman, for example, may fear that men will learn of her sexual vitality. It would not do for her for them to know that she, that lofty creature, on the couch, is a helpless, panting, licking she-sleen. The slave girl, on the other hand, does not have this problem. She knows that she belongs to a category of women toward which respect need not be shown, and will not be shown. She, a slave, she knows, is expected to be an obedient, lascivious animal in her master’s furs or, if permitted, on her master’s couch. Indeed, she will be punished severely, if she is not. She is thus free, irreservedly, joyfully, gloriously, to revel in her sensuality. Furthermore, she knows that her most intimate performances and qualities are likely to be discussed openly and with candor by her master with others, perhaps even in her presence. Accordingly, rather than becoming ashamed of her sexual nature, she becomes quite proud of it, and often becomes competitive with her imbonded sisters, vying with them to become the most desirable slave in the house, or in the circle of her friends.  GUARDSMAN OF GOR; 16; Page 209

Total pleasingness, at all times and in all ways, and instant, and complete obedience, to the least whim of the master, is standardly required of Gorean female slaves, incidentally, not merely of those who wear the collars of red savages. I had little doubt but what there were many in the cities who could instruct even the red savages in matters pertaining to the utilization, management and control of female slaves. If anything, I suspected that the lot of the female slave in the Barrens might be a bit easier than that of her imbonded sister in the smooth corridors and ornate palaces of the high cities. Each street and each square in such a city is likely to have its tether posts and whipping rings.  SAVAGES OF GOR; 17; Page 332

“It is my understanding that six days ago, on the streets,” he said, “you exhibited a momentary hesitancy in carrying out a capture.”
I flung myself to my belly, my hands tied behind me, before his chair. I was terrified. “Forgive me, Master!” I cried. “Forgive me!”
“Did you know the individual?” he asked.
“Yes, Master!” I cried. I had known him. He had been kind to me!”
“To whom does a girl own absolute and perfect obedience?” he asked.
“To her master! To her master!” I wept.
“Kick her, and beat her,” he said, dispassionately.
I was then spurned and abused with the feet of his men, and I was then pulled up to my knees and cuffed several times before my master. Then they stepped back. I was then again on my knees, my lips now bleeding, before my master. I tasted blood.
“You are contrite now, are you not, Tuka?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said, frightened. I knew I should not have hesitated. I was a slave.  DANCER OF GOR; 22; Page 314
 

Kudos to you, Mr. Norman for writing the Gorean series!
A rich, yet utterly simple saga; a world, a time, a people;
those of the Counter-Earth .. the planet .. Gor.
Thank you!

The material presented herein was researched and compiled by me, naia{Saul}.
The material referenced comes from John Norman's Gor Series, The Counter-Earth Saga.
This is a work in process.
Please, do not take, copy, duplicate, or use this work as your own.
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