To The Artwork Of Jeffery Bedrick!

Please meet leisa{R}, real life love slave to Master Rask. She is His first girl and lives and breathes to bring Him pleasure.

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Taken from: #12 Beasts Of GOR
The First Stage of Slavery: Knowing they must obey a Man

The Second Stage of Slavery: Needing the touch of a Man
Freedom permits a woman to live without men. Slavery makes a woman need a Man's touch. The sexuality of a free woman is largely inert; the sexuality of  a slave girl, on the other hand, has been deliberately and seriously activated. Men, as it has pleased them, have done this to her. They have, as Masters, careless of the consequences of their actions, awakened the poor girl's sexuality; it can never then, return to sleep. It has been made hot and alive. She is no longer free; her freedom is gone; she is now only an ignited slave. Sexuality is a glory in a slave girl which sets her apart from free women, but it is also a force within her  which she must fear, for it puts her so helplessly at the mercy of Masters. The aroused sexuality of the slave girl is surely the strongest of chains with which she is bound. Some slave girls, lovely fugitives, have been recaptured simply because they have thrown themselves whimpering at the feet of a Man on a road, begging his touch. One of the most humiliating things that can occur to a slave girl is to find herself on her belly, unbidden, moaning, crawling to the feet of a hated Master. She puts her lips to his feet "I beg your touch, Master," she says.

The sexuality of the aroused slave girl is incomprehensible to the free woman. It is nothing she will ever understand. It is a  color she cannot see, a sound she cannot hear.

Taken from: Savages Of GOR pg. 140
(Thank You Master NorrisWarAxe)

It is natural for a slave girl, of course, to regard her Master with a certain trepidation. She is after all, an animal, who is owned by him, over whom he has total power. The rational slave girl, will almost never intentionally displease her master. First, it is just to costly to do so. Secondly, for reasons that are sometimes obscure to men, these having to do with her being a female, she seldom desires to do so.

Taken from: Savages Of GOR pg. 323
(Thank You Master NorrisWarAxe)
"That is the first duty of a woman," said Canka, "to obey men and be pleasing
to them."
"You will wear the dress of a woman and do the work of a woman. You will
scrape hides and cook. You will gather kailiauk chips for the fires. You will
tend lodges. You will please warriors."
 

Taken from: Blood Brothers Of GOR pg. 85
(Thank You Master NorrisWarAxe)
Attend to your work, Girl," said Hci to Cuwignaka, "or I will put you to
sewing."

    Cuwignaka, angrily, sat back on his heels. In sewing, commonly, among the
red savages, a roll of rawhide string is held balled in the mouth, and played
out, bit by bit. The warmth and saliva in the mouth keeps the string moist
and pliable. The thrusting end is twisted and wet. It is then thrust through
the holes punched in the leather, with a metal or bone awl. The moist thread,
of course, as well as being easier to work with, tends to shrink in drying
and make tighter stitches. With the ball of hide string in the mouth, of
course, it is difficult to speak. When a woman, then, finds herself being
advised by her man to attend to her sewing, she understands, well enough,
that it is now time for her to be silent. She has been, in effect, ordered to
put a gag in her own mouth.

Taken from: Blood Brothers Of GOR pg. 61
(Thank You Master NorrisWarAxe)
"If you were my woman, you would be worked well. If you did not work well, I
would beat you."

Taken from:#7 Captive Of GOR
His hands were suddenly hard on my arms, and he forced me back. He grinned. "You danced your insolence," he said. "You danced your pride, your defiance, your contempt and scorn." He looked down at me.

I looked up at him.

"I am not now insolent,"I said, "Master."

I smiled, tears in my eyes.

"I am not now proud. I am not now defiant. I am not now contemptuous, nor scornful."

I reached up and he permitted me to kiss him, gently.

I lay back. "I have been humbled, well humbled, Master," I smiled.

"What are you now?" he asked.

"Only your slave," I whispered, looking up at him, "only your humbled, helpless slave, Master."

He laughed.

I smiled.

"I have heard," he said, "that there is an insolent female slave in camp, a proud, unconquered girl."

I shook my head. "No longer, Master," I said.

"Did she escape?" he asked.

"No Master," I smiled, "she did not escape."

"Her name was El-in-or," he said.

"She did not escape," I said.

He smiled.

"No female slave escapes Rask of Treve," I said.

"That is true," he said, the beast. But it was true.

"Who are you," he asked.

"That same El-in-or," I smiled.

"She did not escape," he said.

"No." I said. I laughed to myself. I had indeed not escaped.

"Whose slave is El-in-or," he asked.

"Rask of Treve's," I said.

"Does she love?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "she loves." I tried to lift myself, to touch his lips with mine, but he would not permit me."She loves desperately and completely," I whispered.

"Whom?" he asked.

I lay my head back, regarding him. I put my head to one side. "Must I speak?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, toying with his finger on my shoulder.

"But must I speak the truth?" I asked.

"Or you will be lashed, and put in the slave box,"he said.

I was startled. Yet I knew, suddenly, that, if I lied, he would indeed whip me, and quite possibly place me again in the hated slave box. He was a Gorean Master. I was at his mercy. I wondered if I could have felt so much his, so completely surrendered, if he had not possessed this complete power over my life and body. I belonged to him. But I did not want him to whip me, or put me in the slave box. I wanted only, desperately, to please him. And I knew I must, for I was his slave. The absolute truth must be spoken to a Gorean Master. It is forbidden for a girl to hide her feelings.

I looked up at him.

"It is well known to Rask of Treve," I smiled,"whom it is that the slave girl, El-in-or, loves."

"Speak it," he said.

"She loves her Master," I said "She loves Rask of Treve."

"I am he," he said.

"It is you whom she loves," I said.

"And who are you?" he asked, his finger idly at my hip.

"She!" I cried, suddenly, laughing, with pleasure.

He kissed my throat.

"Has she been conquered?" he asked.

"Yes!" I said. "Yes!" I held him.

He pressed His mouth to my body.

"Conquer me!" I wept. "Again conquer me!"

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