Gorean Commands and Positions

Obeisance

Two pictures of several ways to show, obeisance.

I brushed the small men back. “Get back,” I told them. They moved back. They were not pleased but, too, it did not seem they would try to stop me. I extended the shaft of the spear to Janice and she, seizing it with one hand, her free hand, was drawn upward, out of the net, to the safety of the jungle floor.
Then, to my surprise, when she stood safe, trembling beside me, the small men crowded about her and knelt down, putting their heads to the ground.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
“They are showing you respect or obeisance,” I said.
“I do not understand,” she said, frightened.
“Of course!” I said. “Now it is clear!”
“What?” she asked, frightened.
“Stand! Stand!” I told the small men. “Get up! Get up!”
Terrified, the small men rose to their feet.
I looked at Janice, harshly. “Are you not a slave girl in the presence of free men?” I asked.
“Forgive me, Master,” she cried. Swiftly she knelt. The small men regarded her, startled and frightened.
“Put your head to their feet,” I said. “Kiss their feet. Beg their forgiveness for the affront you have shown them.”
Janice put down her head and kissed the feet of the small men. “Forgive me, Masters,” she begged.
They looked at her in wonder.
“Get up,” I told the girl. I then, roughly, tied her hands together behind her back. The small men gathered around, seeing that her hands, truly, were tightly tied.
“This is a slave,” I told them.
They spoke quickly among themselves. It was not in Gorean.
“We are the slaves of the talunas,” said one of the men. their leader.
I nodded. I had thought so, from their behavior. It was from the talunas, too, doubtless, that they had learned their Gorean.  EXPLORERS OF GOR; 13; Pages 392-393

“You may do obeisance, my dear,” said Kliomenes.
The girl rose to her feet and went to Kliomenes. She knelt before him on the dais and put her head down. Gently, softly, she licked and kissed his feet. She then rose again to her feet, backed away, and then on the tiles again knelt. She put the palms of her hands on the tiles and lowered her head to the tiles. Then she straightened up, her back straight, assuming the position of the pleasure slave, though keeping her head bowed deferentially.  ROGUE OF GOR; 15; Page 299

The door opened and Ligurious, with his imposing stature, yet leonine grace, entered. He bowed to me, and I inclined my head to him.
At his entrance Susan put the palms of her hands on the floor and lowered her head to the tiles, assuming a position of slave obeisance common with her in the presence of her master. I wondered if Ligurious’s slave master required this position of all of his women. I supposed so.  KAJIRA OF GOR; 19; Page 157

Hassan smiled. “I seem to recall something to that effect,” he said, He looked down at Sheila. “Are you a slave?” he asked.
“Yes, my master,” she said, “and only you know how much a slave.”
I was thrilled to hear her say this. Every woman, in her deepest heart, wants to find a man whom she must serve perfectly, a man who will bring out the fundamental and profound slave in her, a man who will bend her uncompromisingly and helplessly to his will. In Hassan Sheila, obviously, had found such a man.
“Are you prepared, now,” asked Hassan, “to be turned over to Claudius and the high council?”
“Yes, Master,” she said. “I ask only, first, to be permitted one last time to kiss your feet in respect and reverence, and, in doing so, to express, too, my gratitude for the joy you have given me in these few days you have owned me. They have been the most precious of my life.” She then, tenderly, kissed his feet, extending obeisance and love to the man who had made her a slave. There were tears in my eyes.  KAJIRA OF GOR; 19; Page 393

I walked along the line of the booths until I came to Booth Seventeen. Most of the booths had the curtains drawn, and the lining of the booths and curtains is usually opaque. In two booths the threshold curtains were partly open. In one I saw a slave, naked, writhing slowly in chains before a man, his hands upon her. In another I saw a slave and her lover-master of the moment in one another’s arms half off the large, soft cushion on which the slave, customarily, kneeling, in obeisance, greets the booth’s entrant.  PLAYERS OF GOR; 20; Page 65

“Animal!” screamed the free woman.
Feiqa looked up angrily, tears in her eyes, and lifted herself an inch or two from the floor on the palms of her hands. “I was once as free as you!” she said.
“Oh!” cried Feiqa, suddenly, sobbing, recoiling from my kick, and then “Aii!” she cried, in sharp pain, as, my hand in her hair, she was jerked up to a kneeling position.
“But no more!” I said. I was furious. I could not believe her insolence.
“No, Master,” she wept, “no more!”
I then with the back of my hand, and then its palm, first one, and then the other, back and forth, to and fro, again and again, lashed her head from side to side. Then I flung her on her belly before the free woman. There was blood on my hand, and about her mouth and lips.
“Forgive me!” she begged the free woman. “Forgive me!”
“Address her as ‘Mistress,’” I said. It is customary for Gorean slaves to address free women as “Mistress” and free men as “Master.”
“I beg your forgiveness, Mistress!” wept the girl. “Forgive me, please, I beg it of you!”
“She is new to the collar,” I apologized to the free woman. “I think that perhaps even now she does not fully understand its import. Yet I think that perhaps she understands something more of its meaning now than she did a few moments ago. Shall I kill her?”
Hearing this question Feiqa cried out in fear and shuddered uncontrollably on her belly before the free woman. She then clutched at her ankles and, putting down her head, began to cover her feet with desperate, placatory kisses. “Please forgive the animal!” wept Feiqa. “The animal begs your forgiveness! Please, Mistress! Please, gracious, beautiful, noble Mistress! Forgive Feiqa, please forgive Feiqa, who is only a slave!” I looked down at Feiqa. I think she now understood her collar better than before. I had, for her insolence and unconscionable behavior, literally placed her life in the hands of the free woman. She now understood this sort of thing could be done. Too, she would now understand even more keenly how her life was completely and totally, absolutely, at the mercy of a Master. It thus came home to her, I think, fully, perhaps for the first time, what it could be to be a Gorean slave.
“Are you sorry for what you have done?” asked the free woman.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Mistress!” wept Feiqa, her head down, doing obeisance to one who was a thousand times, nay, infinitely, her superior, the free woman of the peasants.
“You may live,” said the free woman.
“Thank you, Mistress!” wept Feiqa, head down, shuddering and sobbing uncontrollably at the free woman’s feet.  MERCENARIES OF GOR; 21; Pages 20-21

“Heads to the dirt!” called a man.
Swiftly we assumed a common form of slave obeisance, kneeling, the palms of our hands on the ground, our heads to the ground. Many masters, though it tends to be rather associated, usually, with given cities, require this position of their girls, usually when they first enter his presence, or find themselves, as in a room, which he has entered, in his presence. She is then, usually, when given permission, permitted to lift her head, but is to remain kneeling before him, beautifully, in a standard position, her knees closed if she is a house slave or tower slave, her knees open, if she was the sort of slave I was, whatever sort of slave that was supposed to be. It is almost universal, as far as I know, that a slave kneels in one fashion or another, when entering her master’s presence, or if she should find herself in his presence. She also commonly kneels when spoken to by any free person. This is simply a matter of respect. To be sure, she can be slain, if she does not do so. The kneeling position, of course, which the master’s, or the free person’s, permission, either tactic or explicit, is usually required to break, is commonly an initial position. For example, after its deferential assumption, she may be dismissed from it, to other duties, such as cleaning, shopping or cooking.  DANCER OF GOR; 22; Page 114

“Perform obeisance,” I said.
“I am a free woman!” she said.
“Out of your own mouth you have said it,” I said. “You are a woman.”
“I do not know how to do so!” she said.
“There are many ways to perform obeisance,” I said.
“I am a free woman,” she said. “I know none of them.”
“I shall instruct you briefly in three,” I said. “First, kneel before me, back on your heels, yes, with your knees wide, wider, your hands on your thighs, your back straight, your breasts out, good, your belly in, good, and now lower your head in deference, in submission.”
“Like a slave!” she said.
“Do it,” I said. She looked well, “now that,” I said, “may not be exactly a performance of obeisance, for authorities do not all agree, but for our purposes we shall count it as one. It is, at any rate, a beautiful position, and it is, certainly, a common position of slave submission.”
“Slave submission!” she cried.
“Yes,” I said, “and you do it well. It looks natural on you.”
“Now,” I said, “and this is clearly a form of obeisance, bend forward and put your head to the mat, the palms of your hands on the mat. Good. Now lift your head a little and come forward, substantially keeping the position. Forward a little more.”
“But then my face will be at your feet,” she said. “My lips will be over them!”
“Yes,” I said. “Good. Now put your head down and lick and kiss my feet.”
“I am a free woman!” she said.
“You are a woman,” I said. “Now, softly, lingeringly and lovingly. Good.”
“I am not a slave,” she said.
“All women are slaves,” I said. “Imagine what this would be like if you were truly a collared slave.”
She gasped.
“Good,” I said. “Continue.”
Frightened, she did so.
“Now,” I said, “for a third form of obeisance. You may ‘belly’ to me.”
“I do not understand,” she whispered.
“There are various forms of bellying,” I said, “and bellying may be suitably and pleasingly combined with other forms of floor movements, approaching the master on all fours, turning to your sides and back, writhing before him, and so on. We shall take a very simple version, suitable for an ignorant free female who has not yet even begun to discover the depths of her sexuality.”
She looked up at me.
“On your belly,” I said. She backed off a bit, and went to her belly. Her hair was before her face, as she, now on her belly before me, looked up at me.
“Now, inch forward,” I said, “remaining low on your belly, and when you reach my feet, once again, as before, lifting your head a little, tenderly and humbly, and beautifully, as though you were a slave, lick and kiss them. Good. Good. Now take my foot and place it gently on your head. Very good. Now place it again on the mat, and kiss it again. Good. You may now belly back a little, humbly. I have not yet given you permission to rise, of course.”
She looked up at me, through her blond hair. There was a sort of disbelief and awe in her eyes. I think she could not understand the emotions that had gone through her, as she had performed these overt actions, understanding and internalizing their meanings.
“You may now kneel,” I said.
She did so, obediently.  MERCENARIES OF GOR; 24; Pages 409-411

“You were once the Lady Temione, were you not?” I inquired.
“Yes, Master,” she said, lifting her head a little from the dirt, where, before me, in the camp of Cos, on the south bank of the Vosk, north of Holmesk, she knelt, head down, the palms of her hands on the ground.
“Lie on your right side before me,” I said, “extending your left leg.”
She did so. In this way, the bit of silk she wore fell to the right, displaying the line of her hip, thigh and calf. I saw the brand, tiny and tasteful, yet unmistakable, fixed in her thigh, high, under the hip. It was the common kajira brand, the staff and fronds, beauty subject to discipline, worn by most female slaves on Gor. She had the toes of the left leg pointed, lusciously curving the calf. I saw that she had had some training.
“You may resume your original position,” I said.
She returned to it, a common position of slave obeisance.  VAGABONDS OF GOR; 24; Page 7

I pointed to the sand before me.
She immediately, frightened, dropped to her knees and again put her head down to the sand, the palms of her hands, too, on the sand.
It is pleasant to have a woman perform obeisance before one. It is also appropriate. In such a way, in such symbolisms, may the order of nature, and its profound truths, in a conventional and civilized manner, be expressed and acknowledged.
To be sure, this gesture had not been performed voluntarily by the woman at this time, in a typical reverence for the male, for nature, and for herself, and her meaning, but had been commanded by me. Also, I had not commanded this gesture merely for my own pleasure, to see the beauty before me, so marvelously, so rightly, but I had commanded it of her for her own good, that she might clearly understand the nature of our relationship, that she would understand herself, in the deepest part of her belly, as being submitted. Indeed, I had required it of her categorically, unquestioningly, as a master might require it of a slave.  VAGABONDS OF GOR; 24; Pages 205-206

She then crawled back, on all fours, a few feet, and put her head to the floor, the palms of her hands, too, on the floor, in a common position of obeisance. “I hope to be pleasing to you today,” she said.
“That is a slave formula,” I said. With such formulas a girl might greet her master in the morning.
“I know,” she said.
“And you know what is involved in such formulas?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“And you still dare to say such?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Very well,” I said. “You will be held to it, as a slave, and if you are not pleasing have no fear but what, also as a slave, you will be suitably, and severely, punished.”  VAGABONDS OF GOR; 24; Pages 263-264

“On your feet,” I said.
I then pushed him forward, toward our camp.
“A rencer,” I announced, in a moment, thrusting him into our midst.
Men crowded about.
“Keep watch,” I said.
Titus and another fellow went out, as pickets.
Ina came forward, too, to see.
“This is a male,” I said to Ina. Then she swiftly knelt before him, the palms of her hands in the sand, putting her head to the sand, in obeisance. He was young, but she, as she was a female, would put herself in obeisance before him, submitting her femaleness to his maleness.  VAGABONDS OF GOR; 24; Pages 340-341

She then knelt before us, the palms of her hands on the stones, her head down to them, as well.
“Doubtless she has seen slaves kneel in such a way,” said Marcus.
“Probably,” I said. It was a common position of slave obeisance.  MAGICIANS OF GOR; 25; Page 191

I watched the girl approach the slave.
She approached with rapid, small steps, her head down, her hands to the side, slightly extended, palms back. When near him she lifted her head slightly, hardly daring to meet his eyes, and then she knelt before him, as before a master, doing obeisance onto him, her head down to the stones before his golden sandals, the palms of her hands, too, on the stones. This was not inappropriate, of course, even though both were slaves, as she was female and he male, and the obeisance thus, manifested in this instance in the persons of slaves, might be regarded simply as that of that of femaleness to maleness. The perfect obeisance, of course, the natural obeisance, that most in accord with nature, and most perfectly manifesting it, is that of the female slave to the free male. What surprised me about Lavinia’s obeisance was that it seemed so perfectly to exemplify that of the female slave, literally that of the slave to her master, though it was performed before a male who was not only not her master, but himself a slave. That I found of interest. Did she think he owned her? Too, she did not have to perform such an obeisance in this context. It was not, for example, required by custom or prescribed by ordinance. Too, as he did not own her nor expect to encounter her he would not have had an opportunity to specify certain details of her relationship with him, for example, his preferences with respect to her manner of presenting herself before him, the nature of the rituals of deference or submission to be expected of her, and such. He was, after all, only a slave, too. Indeed, sometimes female slaves are quite cruel to male slaves, taunting or mocking them, and such. Let the female slave hope, in such a case, that she does not find herself braceleted and put to him in his cell, a whip tied about her neck. In such a case he is as master to her.  MAGICIANS OF GOR; 25; Pages 389-390
 

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.
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