This girl begs to please you Master

I knelt on the rough stone tiles at his feet. Tiles that I and the other girls meticulously scrub & polish to a marble sheen every day. Naked on all fours, or in humiliating punishment, with wrists braceleted, behind our backs holding the scrubbing brush in our teeth. Every day and all day, so that the men are pleased. Our menial labours did nothing to mitigate the hardness of the stone on our bare feet, or bodies. This did not concern the masters, why would it.
“What is your use name girl?” He asked me.
Use or rape name, a convenience for him rather than me. I have been renamed several times on the tavern owners whim. I liked emily, it retained its original earth meaning, of someone who constantly tries hard. Most Gorean names have stories attached. For example emily is the name of a wife who tried to please her husband so much, that he enslaved her as a reward for her feminine diligence. My last name adele, reversed its earth meaning. The daughter of a rich merchant spurns her suitor an officer, angered by this he simply enslaves her, and leads her away. Choosing not even to rape her but gives her to his men to enjoy, before selling it. I and the other girls love the names we have imposed on us & the romance of the stories.
We frequently fantasise on the narrative of our names. Embroidering the tale with rich sensuous minutiae. Sometimes the masters will expect to hear these most secret fantasies for their entertainment. Amused at our extreme discomfort & obvious sexual excitement. These tales take on an extra dimension when we are renamed & another girl has your former name. the fantasy is now attached to the other girl, & you begin to have fantasise about her too, as well as yourself & your new name. This element of sapphic eroticism becoming increasingly intense as we slaves are expected to comport ourselves in a sexually pleasing way, at all times. For the mens pleasure, but quite impossible to resist the sexual allure of your fellow slavegirls. Going about our chores naked, or in skimpy diaphanous clothing.



“emily Master, for your pleasure Master”
“Your breasts are pretty in your apron, emily”
My breasts pressing pleasingly, straining at the pink diaphanous fabric. Belled nipples taut & sore they were so hard. I squirmed helpless, giddy with delight at his words. The apron fabric was lustrously shiny, plasticky & metallic in appearance. Thin and slippery to wear. It felt demeaning to wear, inferior & menial. Only fit for a dependant bimbo who was there to submissively provide pleasure, on demand. A female who is rightfully & deservingly, sternly & painfully punished if she fails to please her male superiors. The apron was tiny just barely covering my clean smooth pubic mound & my breasts. It had no back at all. Just a thin tie that fastened in a bow under my breasts, capturing & lifting them sweetly in the fabric pressing them upwards to Him. The glossy fabric completely sheer where it pressed against my curves. Wearing it you felt cheap, worthless. Which I was. A bought & branded slavegirl. But wearing it you felt utterly sensuous & sexual, I loved it.


“You are a pretty slut emily”
“emily thanks you Master” I gushed.
I flushed with pleasure, my thighs suddenly feeling very warm.
“You smell pretty now too girl”
I blushed furiously as I heard myself squelch wetly.
“Yes, Master thank you Master”
I was very hot & liquid between my legs now.
He snapped his fingers indicating his sandaled feet.
“Kiss my feet emily”
“Yes Master”
Going on to all fours I knelt over him kissing his warm, slightly odorous, sandaled feet lovingly & softly through my tiny mouth veil.
“Speak slut, you may beg to please me”
In actual fact slut isn’t strictly a true translation. Gorean’s seem to have an exhaustive list of pejorative words for female pleasure slaves. Most of which are very humiliating and most are simple varied inflections of words. To the recipient they are felt emotionally as well as understood. From him they are delivered dismissively, we are below the mens contempt. This particular ‘slut’ meant slave who stinks of her arousal, quite mild & affectionate. I was welling up with pleasure to be addressed by him in this manner, & blushing with embarrassment.
“Master may this girl fetch you refreshment, and she begs to pleasure you with her lips Master.”
“Touch yourself girl”
“Yes Master”
Still kissing his feet I lifted my right hand between my legs. My upper thighs were soaked incredibly hot & slippery. I opened my labia with my index finger, freeing access to my belled clitoris. I shivered helplessly as my finger found it soaked and hard. I was moaning kissing his feet.
“And your anus girl, penetrate yourself”
“Yes Master” I sobbed with humiliation, so shamefully delightful.
With my other hand I opened and began to probe my anal opening. It too was wet and scandalously slippery.




Slave girls here naturally lube their anal passage too, this feature has been bred into them. Genetic alteration drugs are used for barbarians like me. Obviously this means we have to be scrupulous about our cleaning regimen. Petite slave girls are preferred here so we are not fed very much. Although we are fed peelings & discarded bits of spoiled vegetables. No meat, milk, or undiscarded food at all, animals get 2nd choice before us. These are mixed with cheap formulated nutrient that carefully designed & controlled to have little or no wastage. The resultant slave porridge is a quite revolting slop a tepid room temperature lumpy sloppy gruel that has a faint odour of vomit. Nonetheless we gratefully eat the tiny portions we are given. While delicious smells of roasting meats, vegetables and baking bread emanate from the kitchens. An animal bowl is shared between 4 girls at a time, we have to eat on all fours, reminding us of our status. All of which is expressed as urine. This tends to be thick & syrupy, hot & stingy, but perfectly healthy.
Another trait bred into us girls is the inability to sweat freely, despite the tropical temperatures, this too is expressed into the urinary tract, but also into the erogenous area. Our sexual juice is also genetically modified to be quite sweet smelling, as opposed to our urine. Men find the smell pleasant & arousing, & only notice it faintly. We find the nearly constant dampness & lingering smell, quite overpowering, & demeaning. But also very arousing & spirally so. The more aroused we get the we are extremely self conscious, about our damp smell. The more self conscious we become the more aroused we become. It is not uncommon to find yourself quite wretched weeping with helpless frustrated arousal & shame. For quite palpable reasons we don’t allow our misery to hamper our chores or the mens pleasure, in any way. The whip is very painful.



“Who begs to please me?”
“emily begs to please you Master”
“& who is emily?”
“emily is a slavegirl for your pleasure Master”
“& what is that liquid sound from your legs & that smell emily”
“emily’s desperate need to please you Master.”
The tabbed blade of a pleasure whip, was pressed to my veiled lips. I gasped in fright. Covering the well worn leather implement with fearful kisses. It tasted & reeked of sex & fear. Needless to say it wasn’t for my pleasure, but to ensure his is served perfectly.
He allowed me to kiss the whip for a few seconds, still masturbating myself. Sobbing & choking on my own fear & helpless sexual excitement.
“Your sexual needs are unimportant to me slut!” His tone was firm.
“Yes Master, this girls need is to give you pleasure Master & only for your pleasure Master” I was kissing the whip desperately now.
“Do you seek to please me to avoid punishment emily?” His voice was inquisitorial as he pressed the whip firmly into my silk veiled lips
“No Master, never Master, emily begs to be punished if she fails to please you Master” I was crying, almost blubbering
I would be severely caned or whipped if it was suspected I was being pleasing merely to avoid penalty. Moreover I would be beaten if he was in anyway dissatisfied with my service. Or beaten if he pleased, to enhance my service or just because he chose to enjoy whipping me.
“So why do you beg to please me girl”
“emily begs to please you Master, because you chose her, Master”
“Explain girl”
“Master emily knows she is just one of many pretty tavern girls you could have chosen Master.”
“Continue”
“Yes Master, emily knows you may have just clicked your fingers at the first girl you saw Master”
I was still kissing lovingly & submissively at the whip, but I sensed him enjoying, watching me touching myself.
“True, continue, slut.”
“But Master, it this slave hope that you chose her, because you found her attractive, & sexually enjoyable.”
“Perhaps”
My heart nearly leaped into my mouth, with happiness.
“Perhaps not, slut.” His words stung.
It was not uncommon to be chosen then summarily dismissed on a whim.
“Continue, emily.”
I was pathetically happy, & relieved.
“Master, emily is so happy that you chose her. That you found her attractive, & sexually pleasing, thrilled to her core to be found desirable by you, Master. She begs to serve you Master.”
“Female slaves are easily flattered.” His tone was derisory.
“Yes Master, but Master, this girl hopes that even if you do dismiss her now, you will nonetheless take pleasure in her miserable squirming, whilst you enjoy another girl.”
“But Master, emily hopes very much for your pleasure.”
“Master emily, begs you punish her severely if she fails to please you, if her intimate service is more disappointing than her allure Master.”



He lifted the whip away from my lips. & I lowered my mouth to his feet again. Kissing them hotly as he watched me touch myself. I was panting & gasping with my slave heat, my body awash with sexual arousal, kissing his feet. My eyes closed, clouded with a red haze of need, as I moaned helplessly. Until I was on the very edge of orgasm. Then he stopped me.
Slave girls are never permitted to masturbate till climax. I was so ashamed & humiliated now. Before my capture on Earth, I had never masturbated. Many earth girls don’t before the first time they have sex. I had always been excited & a little bit uneasy at barely contained excitement I felt around boys & hence by sex. I was very shy & quick to blush. One of my school friends had told me about performing fellatio with her boyfriend & I nearly fainted, I was so excited & embarrassed. The Gorean slavers look out for girls like me. I was nineteen at my capture, the typical age, no younger than eighteen & no older than 23. Very few slave girls of earth origin or Gorean girls have ever masturbated freely. Men like to watch us arouse ourselves. We find it deeply shameful. Touching ourselves in public. But also humiliating that this most intimate of things is only for their pleasure. It brings it home deeply that our sex is for them to enjoy, even this doesn’t belong to us.
He pushed a rough brass token into my mouth.
I was to fetch him a drink.

A slave is supposed to object to her bondage

Slaves are not permitted to touch money. We are intrinsically valueless would sully its value. Even the tavern tokens must only be carried in our mouths. Not in our hands. A common story is that of when one of the old more liberal towns was conquered. The women of the town were no longer to be permitted to touch money. The towns coinage was reminted. & there was initial moves for all the women to have their hands amputated as a salutary punishment. However it was decided to be lenient & the women of the town were to serve for the rest of their lives with their hands bound behind them. All chores were to be performed whilst holding implements in the mouth. As this story spread more free women fearing they might not be so leniently treated if captured. Stopped handling money altogether. This also led to many very wealthy women handing over all their property to their husbands or guardians. Which eventually led to compulsory confiscation of all female property. & whilst technically these women were still free, it often suited their husbands or guardians to dispose of the now powerless women by enslaving them. Although it was not then legal to summarily enslave a woman in her own city. Many females found themselves outside the city walls at night, naked & bound. Waiting to be leashed by the slavers & led away. In fact many towns & cities had a small cage just outside the gates for just this purpose. In larger cities the woman would be enslaved then taken back through the gates as property.

The woman would usually find strangers waiting for her in her chambers. She would be led away. Often her guardian or husband would pay the strangers in front of her. Numb with shock & fright she would be led away & out of the city gates. The city guards uninterested in her fate. A female, with no assets, powerless, unimportant. If the girl wasn’t whitesilk, or if she was noticeably pretty, she might be raped, by her abductees and the guards. Just outside the gates were some very small cages, just high enough to kneel cramped inside, knees drawn up, back pressed on the top bars. She would be locked in, unbound but unable to move herself at all, her arms held behind her by the confines of the cage. Her face & feet pressed in by the metal. Once she was locked inside the cage was covered with a leather closure. Sealing her inside with the smell of her fear. Such cramped conditions were excruciatingly uncomfortable & painful after only a few minutes. She would be waiting for most of the night. On occasion women were left in the cages for more than a day, before being processed, after all they weren’t going anywhere.
Often there would be more than one cage occupied on an evening. But generally the women would be too frightened to talk to, to comfort, each other. Instead the low frightened whimpering moaning, would heighten the others terror. The cages were very near the guards positions & they didn’t like to be disturbed. In addition the guards had a chemical electric prod, for shooing away stray animals. This could be pressed under the leather curtain and to her buttocks, or intimacies quite easily.

Eventually in the early morning a slaver would arrive. He would remove the girl or girls from the cage. They would be assessed. At this point husbandry would decide whether she could be sold as a slave, or if it was more economical to dispose of her beyond the city. Usually her abductors instructions were to have her nude except for her nether garments or panties.
During her assessment he would explain to her in detail. How she would be displayed & if any free person wished to accuse her of past improprieties, no matter how slight, her punishment would be a disposal. She was to be branded with hot irons, sold whipped and raped. At some point she would wet herself with fright. He would then stop and gag her with her soiled undergarment. She would be whipped cruelly for toileting herself without permission & then bound ready to be taken back into the city as a slave.
In the city she was taken to the slavers square & put kneeling into a wooden stock. Her head held by the headboard at an angle facing forwards so her features were clearly visible at foot level. Still gagged with her panties she would be left displayed like this all day. Men would come and casually examine her, or stand around their feet close to her face discussing other more important matters. Incidentally she had little to fear from accusers, her reduction to slavery had made her & her past behaviour trivial. Also women would come to look at her. Shrouded in their full body veils. Free women are kept in full bodily purdah here. The garment has no visible eye openings & is a closely fitting sheath. The fabric is thinner near her eyes so she can see dimly through. However the garments are made out of quite glossy, shiny fabrics, almost wet look & quite close fitting.
The object is not her modesty, but her control & subservience. Although she is not a slave, she is still under male domination. The fact that she is permitted in the public space at all is a privilege. In that space she is expected to be timorous & deferential. Many women at the time were confined to the home. Further to this she must be nude under the veil, no pockets or any ability to take anything into the public space. Her ankles are joined by a short chain, designed to make her gait feminine. On that chain hangs a metal disk identifying her guardians household.

Her curves are clearly visible through the veil, only her identity is hidden. In the public space she is intimidated, many men will slap her legs or buttocks to move her aside, some use canes. Many are groped, some are raped, or made to perform fellatio through their sheaths. Often this will lead to instant enslavement. & even if it doesn’t she is very unlikely to venture out of her house again. Wives are no longer permitted to leave the home. Single women are afraid to express their sexuality here, as that usually leads to enslavement. Some young women, aroused by the highly charged sexual atmosphere, but frustrated and afraid to approach men meet up secretly & touch each other furtively through their sheaths. However these women are frequently caught & made slaves. Gradually the entire population was being enslaved.
These girls trembling in their sheaths come to gape in horror at women they might have known. Leaving them wondering if other of their friends who may simply be not permitted to leave the house have met a similar fate. Indeed will they be next? Some confess scandalised to each other that they wish it were they. The naked girls in the stocks no matter what they may have wished for before, now wish they were anywhere but here.

Eventually a very long day finishes for the new slave. Before the close of the business day she is taken to the branding smiths shop. The hearth will be cooling now but the shop still smells strongly of burnt flesh. Terrified she will have to be dragged inside. Behind a stout leather curtain women are locked kneeling on all fours in stocks. They have already been branded, according to the colour of the paint on the soles of her feet, her waiting time in the stocks. Unlike today when the salves can heal a brand in an hour or so. Though the stinging pain of the brand lasts for much, much longer months, rather than days until the pain becomes psychosomatic & emotional rather than physical. Which is a propos also the intent. In these times 5 days was needed before the wound was healed enough to be touched without marring the pretty scar. It should be noted too in these times. Women were marked as slaves, rather than as specific property, her collar identified her owner. These days when rebranding is painful but simple, she is marked as property & specific property, 2 brands. Collars have all but disappeared, unfashionable these days, when all women, except breeding stock, are slaves. Rather it is the breeding stock who are collared. Daughters given to other families to breed & mother children to cement relationships.
These women are kept in strict purdah, only seeing their husbands & children & each other. They nurture the children until the youngest son is old enough to enter the academies at 8. the girls are raised in seclusion in purdah till 18 when the female children are either given to other families for eventual breeding or sold into slavery. The mothers are either taken to distant foreign cities and sold as slaves, or sold to peasants as work slaves, or disposed of. It is these wives who wear the locked collar as a wedding ring.
So the girls were left for 5 days held in the stocks, kneeling on all fours. The new slave is locked in the stock alongside the other freshly branded slaves. She is hooded in the stock as are the other girls & the curtain closed. The shop is then locked for the night. In the morning she will be branded. The pain from the hot iron will cause her to wet herself & defecate involuntarily. She must clean the branding iron with her panties & clean up the mess she has made with them also. Before being gagged with them again. This is the only moisture she will get for five days. & then once again locked in the stock. Waiting for her wound to heal. For now though she waits in the darkness of her hood, foully gagged. Listening to the gagged mumbles of pain & extreme discomfort. The stocks are very uncomfortable. The captive can barely move a muscle. & the position on all fours head lower than the upraised buttocks, is very muscularly uncomfortable. She or rather her brand & intimacies can be examined quite conveniently from behind in this position. even if she wasn’t hooded the stock prevents her from looking around behind her. Her brand is examined for infection. In these times a few of slaves were designated as wastage due to spoilage. Also her anus & urethra are checked for discharge, involuntary or disobedient the consequences for her are the same. She is livestock now & disposable if her performance is unsatisfactory. The small cage is stifling as the curtain is designed to keep flies out but this also makes the air very stale The area is very hot & stinks of stale burnt flesh & fear. Also the smell from soiled panties is very unpleasant, the moisture from her mouth keeping the odour of her filth fresh. The taste doesn’t bear thinking about. There are many times that men are thankful that they are the Masters & this must be one of them.
When I was captured on earth I had obviously been terrified. Being quite demur & shy I used to wear a little white lace slip & pantie set, for bed. It was quite sensual I suppose but nobody but me had ever seen me in it. It was my secret. Although many girls of my age did wear such bed lingerie for their boyfriends or slept naked, I was still a virgin. The boys I knew, were just that boys, although physically exciting. The men I was attracted to scared me, and also made me feel slightly ashamed to be attracted to such the dominant type. So much so that I would find myself blushing quite furiously, just watching films. Much to my girlfriends amusement, if only they could see me now. I had once fainted with excitement in class, when my friend told me about fellatio with her boyfriend. A sporty type who we both knew I had a crush on too. I had never been able to speak to him again. I wondered where my friend was now. Sometimes I fervently hope she has been taken in the night like me, so she too can be free in bondage. & sometimes I hope she hasn’t. Apparently the slavers look out for very vulnerable, shy girls like me, our feminine coyness indicates a natural urge to be totally submissive.
We are derisorily called love slaves, meaning we are totally captive to our emotions, being totally helpless in the arms of a master. But being especially responsive to the strictest of masters. Organically all female slaves are like this. But a love slaves in bondage is fantastically more a pathetic hostage to her femininity & his maleness. Which is why the slavers go to the, slightly more trouble of capturing us earth girls.
I had been fast asleep & wakened by a hand clamped across my mouth, in the pitch blackness. My wrists were also clamped behind me in his massively strong hands. I had screamed into the hand there was laughter. He wasn’t alone. I felt him swiftly & expertly tie my wrists. It was done in an instant, I was roped. Then I felt a cold hard battery shaped object pressed between my legs. Was I to be raped with something? However I wasn’t going to be fortunate to escape with that. He found my intimate opening & pushed the object against my urethra & clitoris. Then I squealed in agony as a massive jolt of electricity was triggered. I had never felt such pain, such inescapable agony. I had completely wet my knickers. The men were laughing. My squeal had been muffled quite effectively by his hand. The sodden panties were stripped from & shoved into my mouth. With a fist in my hair I was yanked from the bed & thrown onto my knees, then pushed face down at their feet. The device was pushed between my buttocks into my anus.
“Will you be obedient blondie?”
My terrified affirmative reply was muffled.
The light was on now. The other man pressed his fingers into my vagina, testing my hymen as I later realised.
“She is white silk.”
“She is quite pretty.”
“We could rape her anyway.”
“Do you want to be raped slut?”
My muffled reply was amusing to them.
“We can fuck the other one for now, this one will soon have her legs opened.”
“You can look forward to your rape later slut.” I was told
My sobbing into my panties must have pleased them as they laughed again.
Then another jolt of agony.
“I still prefer the whip.”
“She will soon feel the leather.”
“That’s another thing for you to look forward to girl, your first whipping”
The look of terror inmy eyes amused them.
I was dragged into the other room. My living room. Two more men were sitting there. And a girl, one of my neighbours. I didn’t know her name. She was blonde & pretty like me. She was kneeling between one of the mens legs performing fellatio. She too was in lingerie a pantie & suspender set. Her bra was ripped & she was shiny with semen all over her face, breasts on her bruised inner thighs. She had been raped several times. The men had been in no hurry, we were the last of the shipment. I was left kneeling facing the wall while they continued to enjoy my neighbour. They were drinking beer & my wine, smoking my cigarettes, helping themselves to my food. Throwing any rubbish on my expensive carpet.

Then the buzzer to my apartment went. One of the men answered gruffly quickly, it was very early in the morning.
The other blonde was then bound like me & gagged with her torn sticky panties.
One of the men grabbed a fistful of her hair and bent her over, her head at his beltline. Then another man seized me. My rear was soundly & painfully slapped & we were dragged off down the corridor.
The men were quite casual in the lift. Then in the car park the building attendant arrived. One of the men pushed a roll of notes into his hand.
“Fuck that stuck up little bitch for me”
“Which one?”
He laughed “Both of the little cunts.”
The other men laughed as he walked off.
We were dragged to a big black car. The boot was opened. Already there was 4 girls bond in there. Our ankles were bound & a black cloth hood tied over our heads. The heavy leather ¾ transport body hood would come later. We were thrown into the boot & it was locked.
We are derisorily called love slaves, meaning we are totally captive to our emotions, being totally helpless in the arms of a master. But being especially responsive to the strictest of masters. Organically all female slaves are like this. But a love slaves in bondage is fantastically more a pathetic hostage to her femininity & his maleness. Which is why the slavers go to the, slightly more trouble of capturing us earth girls.
It is said to be a labour of love seeking out & capturing earth girls. Although we are easy to ensnare, the life of a Gorean slave trader is purely one of cattle markets and auctions. Peasant girls of saleable age are penned by their communities & sold usually in groups to passing traders. Usually this is of mutual satisfaction to all parties. The peasant is free of a female mouth to feed. The girls are free of a life of backbreaking rural labour & childbirth. The trader pays a low price for the girls and also gets to employ the girls as beasts of burdens for his goods between his various stops. The girls are always healthy & duskily very good looking. Very grateful & submissive too, requiring very little punitive training or supervision.
The city girls are taken at 18 down to the slave yards & are shipped out of the city to far flung cities. Often quite an arduous unpleasant month long journey for the gagged & hooded slaves. Usually riding in cramped cage wagons. Or marched barefoot along the sides of the paved roads. The process is still purely a cattle dealing commercial affair.
Whereas the slavers on earth seek out suitable girls. Often resorting to purely physical capture. But for their amusement, the thrill of the hunt, even if it is for easy prey like us, often playing elaborate hoaxes & games on the unsuspecting girl. Seduced her head in clouds of fantasy, the poor girl almost in an ecstasy her pretty little head filled with tales of riches or love. Before she finds herself a bound & gagged prisoner. How easily we are tricked by men who understand us. Some girls are given subtle hints of the nature of Gor. Obviously concentrating on the Disney aspects of submission & punishment & only after these girls foolishly beg sensual concubinage do they find out that you should be careful what you wish for. Especially if you are a female in the Gorean slavers sights.
The captured girls are transported to portals & pushed through to be collected on the other side by the slave transporters. Forced into a heavy leather sack the body hood. She was pushed to her knees, her mouth was ungagged, for a few seconds. They forced her into the leather sheath, distraught. The leather was quite thick but polished & creamed so as to be very supple. It came down to her thighs, at her head a thick ball of leather was pushed into her mouth, distressingly the ball expanded to fill her mouth. External straps secured the gag, similar straps bound her upper & lower arms tightly. A thick strap went between her legs and another clamped her thighs together. There was no need to lock them, she was utterly powerless inside the hood. Her ankles were hobbled. They left her kneeling in front of them. In the darkness of the tight leather, clammy with fear, her own & the hoods previous occupants, she sobbed helplessly into her gag. Secured now she was ignored, as the men waited for the transport.
But there was first an unpleasant procedure to be endured by the girls. In all fairness even the men didn’t enjoy the enema procedure. It seemed painful & cruel even for slaves. However the alternative was the inconvenience of feeding & watering the slaves regularly. & the sooner they painfully learned obedience the better.
A bota of wine was often passed around while the capsules were softening in the liquid, eventually they were ready. The first girl to be processed had her head pushed firmly to the ground. He buttocks were lifted up & the hood unbuckled around her thighs. One of the men lifted one of the capsules from the boiling water. Tossing it from hand to hand it was so hot. Another of the men spread her buttocks & the capsule was expertly rammed into place, right up inside her. Even inside the hood gagged as she was, her squeals & moaning were loudly audible. The other girls squirmed in distress. She was a virgin so the hood was simply closed & re-buckled shut. She knelt against the wall squirming & sobbing in pain.
The transport enemas contained, nutrients so that she could be transported for up to 2 weeks without being fed or watered. As new arrivals the capsule had also been spiked with a language drug that greatly aided the new slaves in learning gorean, simple iteration was all that was needed to teach gorean. The enemas also contained the genetic modifications done to female slaves here. Transport times being usually 4 to six weeks meant this would be done at least one further time. She might be permitted to toilet on the next application of the enemas, during the six week transportation. Although this was often neglected, her discomfort is of no consequence. & did no permanent damage at least physically.
One of the girls kicked out fearfully as they opened her hood, a sharp crack of the shortened bullwhip across her legs silenced her & the other slaves.
One by one the girls were processed, the virgin or white silk girls simply had the enemas applied and the hoods closed. The girls who weren’t virgins had thick rubber phalluses, self lubricated with greasy jelly attached to the bottom belt of the hood, secured into the anus & vagina. The girls would squirm on these for the remainder of their transportation, developing internal muscles. This reflected the different expectations of slavegirls. White silk girls are expected to be tight & part of their pleasure is opening them for the first time, to some extent enjoying a girls reluctance & distress. Non white silk girls were expected to be tight but open & penetrated easily, the only resistance her fear. Also the dildos are seen as punishment for the earth girls, for using their bodies for their own pleasure, without a Masters permission, inexcusable misappropriation of his property.
The portals are key to successful slave importation. Contrary to popular belief, Gor is not another planet, but our own roughly 10,000 years in the future after we had allowed our greed & reliance on technology to destroy most of it. Leaving only a Mediterranean & middle eastern rump, surrounded by deadly snow deserts in the north & sandy equally deadly deserts in the south. The portals are quantum gates that allow residents of the future, & only such residents the Goreans to travel back & forth. This also only applies to males. The transport from the past is one way only & only for females. Often male criminal helpers from the past are allowed to go to the future as a reward for services. Or so they think, usually it is to repay some act of petty treachery or dishonour. The man finds himself suddenly female & waiting retribution. Her or rather his recollections usually last for an hour or so. His helpless impotent now anger, fading to a bimbo like hazy fear at her new fate. The weak men of the past period are regarded with only slightly less contempt than the women.
The success of the portals resides in the application of quantum mechanics & many worlds theory theory, in that for every parsing event the universe splits asunder into two separate irreconcilable realities. So although there is a steady stream of usually American & European captives taken from college campuses in each split reality only one girl has gone missing & she is virtually impossible to trace. In any case tracks are well covered by rewarding any male accomplices.
The transporters on the other side are unaware of these new girls and react quite angrily to her feminine confusion. He is amply repaid.
All of the advanced technology & medicine, the magic of Gor is from the past. In self contained & powered very compact tools. That are seemingly unfathomable, in terms of medicine, they just work. & unbreakable in terms of the devices, due mainly to the dangerous nature of its internal power. No moving parts & seemingly everlasting. Lighting, lifting drilling, devices, that are harnessed in quite novel ways by the Greco/roman technology of the Gorean age. Most popular are the music devices incidentally, seemingly containing an everlasting supply of voice activated music & recordable too. In the past slavegirls were employed to sing helpless love songs in choirs or harmonies, to be recorded. The lewdness of the female voice a pleasant accompaniment to the lewdness of her rape cries.
The surprisingly quiet car had driven us away to our slavery.
Like me & countless other girls owned now
Here she is waiting for tomorrow frightened, merely property now. Her life as a person over.
Furthermore she is not permitted to toilet for these long five days of painful healing. This isn’t told to her, she just knows. Everything now is by male permission. This makes her extremely pliable on the auction block. A female who is absolutely desperate to toilet is absolutely obedient. How lovely is such a slave in tears utterly dependant, utterly female.

A loving girl for your pleasure & service Master

“Yes Master” I mumbled over the thick coin.
The token was quite sticky & tasted strongly of sex. Because women are not permitted to hold money the coins aren’t cleaned. Sometimes women are made to carry them to the counter in their mouths, at other times on all fours, holding the coin clenched between your buttocks, or between your thighs. This doesn’t bother the men, because the coins are just tossed into a brass bowl. These coins are only ever cleaned by being in our mouths. They only serve a symbolic role. It is a simple matter for the barkeeper to keep a simple tally or to collect the money from the table. Rather they are designed so that we can fetch Masters drink in a suitably menial fashion. For the price of a drink any man can fuck me as much as he pleases, for as long as he pleases. & whip me if, I am displeasing in the slightest, or if he so wishes. In fact not even a drink is required.
I started to rise, but he snapped his fingers
“Fours” I was ordered.
I dropped back to my hands & knees & crawled towards the bar. I could barely bear to stand or crawl, yet I hurriedly did so. Masters are not forbearing.
At the bar several girls were waiting on all fours, similarly coin gagged, one distressed girl was clutching her coin between her buttocks precariously. She was trembling with fear. The bar keeper was keeping her waiting, enjoying her discomfort. If she dropped it she would be beaten. She was dark haired but another earth girl, most of us imported slaves are blonde, but not all. I was called before her, I didn’t feel any guilt or remorse only relief to have the coin out of my mouth. Rather she felt the sting of the whip than me.
“Up” I was ordered, immediately I stood before him, my arms outstretched.
A chilled tankard of frothy fizzy beer was thrust roughly into my hands. Akin to lager & very strong & refreshing. How I would love just one tiny sip, rather than the stale often dirty bucket of water we girls are permitted drink from.
I clutched it between my breasts.
“Thank you Master”
“Go”
Actually the dismissal was much terser. The translation akin to ‘fuck off little cunt, why are you keeping your Master waiting’. The sharpness of the command making me flinch & blanche with fright.
“Yes Master”
I quickly turned & hurried away through the busy tavern.
I was almost crying as I hurried off. This master had been on of my first feminine infatuations. On my first few weeks here, every morning when I passed him he had soundly slapped my bare bottom, causing me to cry out in surprise & excitement. He had then tersely ordered me to attend to my chores. Frightened I had hurried away. This had continued for a couple of weeks or so. Until one morning I had knelt at his feet & begged to please him. That first morning he had lifted me onto his lap & spanked me with his open hand. Then I had been sent back to scrubbing the tiles, utterly wet & helplessly sexually aroused. The next morning I had been unable to contain myself & had begged again to please him. He spanked me again, but then pushed me between his legs for his pleasure. After he had come in my mouth & all over my face I had been sent back to my chores.
That evening while the other girls were being toileted I had been hooded & instructed to wait with the punishment whip clenched between my trembling buttocks. I had been whipped severely then he told me that it was not for me to beg to please a particular master, but to beg to please all men. I had sobbed in terror as he had given me a lash after lash punctuating the painful interlocution, his terse admonitions & my sobbing terrified response. I had then been sent to serve on the tavern floor.
The next morning another tavern master had slapped my still raw tender bottom. I had squealed in pain, sobbing fearfully. After he had enjoyed my fellatio, I was passed round the other tavern masters. When they had finished with me & my face was spattered & soiled, covered in their sticky pleasure I had been braceleted & dismissed back to my chores. Now every time I feel a slap on my behind I almost choke with fright & alarm. But also gagging & suffocating with my helpless desire to be found pleasing & sexually obedient.

My stride was petite & feminine. In times gone by my ankles would have been chained prettily, just 3 links apart, the central link being a small bell. However not having them chained kept me even more frightened & diligent about my gait. On many occasions a Master, has taken note of a lacking in my demeanour, to be painfully corrected later. It has been explained to me that my stride should be as if I were walking with panties around my ankles. I loved that.
One Master, soundly slapped my naked rear just on my brand as I passed him. I made sure to squeal & blush prettily. A brunette girl was kneeling between his legs performing fellatio, she blushed too. I heard him laugh behind me.
Almost breathlessly I reached my Master, dropping to my knees gracefully at his feet. He paid me no attention as I knelt he was watching the two slave dancing on the phallus shaped poles. They were joined by short nipple chains, gyrating sensuously around the metal pole. It was slick & shiny with their juices as they rubbed themselves on its shaft, kissing at its large head lovingly.
After some time he decided to notice me.
“Serve, emily”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
Kneeling perfectly I lifted his cup, to my belly holding it for a second there, before lifting it my breasts, rolling it lovingly in my cleavage. The cold metal tankard clinking on my nipple bells. Intensely aware of his scrutiny I pressed & rolled the cup slowly upwards causing my breasts to swell sweetly upwards to him, then lowered my lips. & kissed the rim reverently. The liquid fizzed violently, almost stinging my nose & eyes, it was so cold. I was not so much thirsty, as my mouth tasted thick & sticky, it had been a very hot day & the water bucket had been quite greasy & smelly tonight. I had performed fellatio 3 times in the hot morning & afternoon. We blondes are usually expected to scrub & polish the stone tavern floors to perfection. & keep it that way all day until the evening
Men seem to enjoy interrupting a slaves chores, for a cold drink & my intimate lips. Then sending me back, to those chores, my face, breasts, hair & mouth sticky with Masters thick pleasure. My veil sodden and plastered to my lips. Especially for a earth blonde slaves like me.
No matter how frequently my menial routines are disrupted or for how long. I am still expected to complete all the chores assigned to me flawlessly. Or taste the punishment whip, a dreadful shortened bullwhip. Brutally shortened, but no less thick, for the rear-quarters of female slaves. The leather is treated so as not to cut the flesh or permanently visually damage flesh. The raw welting remains subcutaneous. The rear-quarters show a vibrant pink redness, indicating she has been beaten. Her rump feels swollen & acutely tender to the slightest touch, or movement. Despite the stinging throbbing pain I am still expected to perform my duties quickly & prettily. The redness often invites passing masters to slap or lash me, for their amusement & to remind me if any further mnemonics were required of the consequences of male dissatisfaction, with their property.
Often in an afternoon the floor girls like me, have their wrists braceleted behind them & we must continue toiling with the implements held in our trembling lips. Especially on the very humid days, it seems to be pleasing to watch our drudgery over chilled beers in the hot muggy afternoons. We must still move our bodies prettily & sensuously & it seems the exposed position is quite a good advertisement for the evenings pleasures.
I always try to have my clitoris bell ring out prettily behind me, on such accessions. For a couple of good reasons. In this exposed position the men find it amusing to take the occasional passing swipe at us with the riding crop shaped pleasure whips. Some men avoid striking at the bell going for my inner thighs instead, however I suspect an equal amount of men aim more deliberately & firmly between my legs at the bell.
Another deeply shaming reason is that I pathetically crave male attention & the bell attracts their notice somewhat. Occasionally one of the men will reach down and fondle me, then while I lick his fingers clean, pass comment on my evident female vitality. Rather akin to commenting on a dogs glossy coat. This is typically derisory, but shows at least his desultory sexual interest in me. Worthless at his feet I squirm wetly & thank him profusely, thrilled & grateful for his merest notice. However even if that is to my painful detriment, by attracting his whip.
The randomness of the lash or non lash is totally unsettling & leaves you feeling utterly vulnerable and traumatized by any subsequent strike of the whip. Or the sound of the lash on another girl. Thankfully this hands free service is only for the last few hours of the afternoon. The muggy hours when many of the men are enjoying the siesta. Thankfully this is not every day but more often now than not. The hotter the day the more likely we are to serve in this fashion. In private houses & some more progressive taverns this in now the norm. our humiliation & thus the deliciousness of our service is constantly being refined.
This is often done individually for punishment or amusement too. One girl a brunette who had once been a Gorean free woman, purportedly quite rich & pampered, was kept serving like this for a month at least. It is actually impossible for us slaves to keep track of the passage of time. As we have no female words for minutes, days, weeks months etc. So no conceptual awareness except for the passing of morning to evening, every day similar to the last & next. Now she generally works in the laundry area & in the early morning polishing sandals. & she appears very humble & submissive even to the other Gorean girls. Incidentally earth girls & especially blondes are very submissive to our Gorean born counterparts too. She is very popular amongst the patrons now & supposedly highly responsive, especially from the sounds of her rape screams & sobs. Just like a blonde earth slut.
We blondes are usually expected to scrub & polish the stone tavern floors to perfection. & keep it that way all day until the evening
The coldness of his cup almost stinging my fingers & breasts, my erect belled nipples, chaffing through the slippery taut fabric of my apron on his cup.

How many times had I thoughtlessly drank a cold coca cola, when I had been free. How many times had I undeservedly indulged myself when I should have been trembling with erotic fright at a masters feet, submissively begging to please him.
I trembled now kissing his cup. He was the Master I the slave. Devoutly & emotionally from the burning heat in my loins I welled upwards, to my lips kissing at the very edge of the metal rim. My whole being totally engrossed in my desire to please him as I bowed my head deeply & lifted the vessel upwards & outwards to him.
“Master…” My voice was throaty & hesitant
“Speak slut”
“Master, your slave emily brings you refreshment. She wishes that you will find it invigorating & cooling. And Master emily begs you to enjoy her lips while you drink Master.”
“Speak more candidly blondie (short for blow job blonde) slut”
“Yes Master, emily aches to feel you part her warm lips with your manhood Master. Hopes you will enjoy her hot tongue & mouth on your stiffening crown, while you enjoy the dancers & your drink, Master“
“More”
“emily begs you to enjoy the wet sounds from her thighs as you enjoy the wet heat of her mouth on you Master. Begs you to throb in her mouth as she squirms desperately at your feet. With every second & instant of your heightening pleasure, emily’s own need & fervour to please you will intensify, to augment your delight & sexual pleasure.”
I was literally throbbing & trembling at these words, I felt like my belly was seeping down my thighs like jelly. I was almost incandescent with my need to please him now.
Finally he reached down and holding the tips of my fingers around the cup pulled me forwards, closer between his knees. Then releasing my fingers he took his cup, leaving me over his lap. Some men don’t touch your fingers at all, just taking the cup its all about their preferences, and your obedience to them.
I was reminded of the prostitutes & used to be able to see from my apartment. How I used to despise them and their bimbo giggling & acquiesce to their clients fetishes. How worthless they were & how worthless I was now. I wondered how they would look in their plastic mini skirts, under the whip, perhaps gagged on the feminine filth of their panties. Kissing at the mens feet, not for recompense, but in trepidation of & adoration at their maleness. As trivial & worthless as I was now.
He indicated his tunic. I could see his erection pressing upwards.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

He is pleased

“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

I lifted the tunic he was very big. Gorean men are very big, typically up to twice the size of the earth average. Also Gorean men are thick but unusually straight & naturally circumcised in appearance. How I loved the men here.
“Oh Master, how magnificent you are already.” I gushed
He didn’t reply, I didn’t expect him too, but immediately began kissing and licking his shaft & glans. He tasted ever so slightly of sweat & beer. But more of salt & seawater, the men often swim at the beach in the late afternoon. Especially the guardsmen & soldiers of the garrison. I suspected he might be a soldier from the sturdiness of his sandals, but this was no concern of mine anyhow. When he was soaked & glistening I began to lick & suck softly on his frenulum causing him to shiver. Then I wrapped my veil around his head & slowly took him into my mouth soaking the slippery fabric to his form.
He gasped in pleasure, I was profoundly thrilled. The fabric, slave silk is so sensuous & utterly distracting on the erogenous areas of the body. So clearly designed only for sexual pleasure. No wonder it is the only clothing permitted to us, clinging maddeningly at my lips, my nether lips, at my nipples, on my curves. Fabric for one who is submissively for another pleasure, who is owned & punished if that pleasure is not loving & totally satisfactory. With each suck & intake of breath I took him deeper inside me, until he was fully inside. His testicles cupped and massaged gently in my adoring fingers.



I was totally absorbed in serving him, only vaguely aware of the wetness between my knees that seemed to have turned my upper & inner thighs into a wet sticky mass of hot helpless need. All directed upwards into my oral service of him. I was in a rapture of submission to pleasuring my master.
Slowly I began to suck & lift my mouth up his now throbbing shaft & then lifting myself over his lap, while still kissing & sucking his glans, pressed my breasts around his exposed & soaked shaft. He sighed again. I began to massage him upwards into my mouth with the fibre & texture of my cleavage through the silk of my apron. Above me I heard him take a gulp of his drink. His other hand resting in my hair.
Behind me I could hear the drum beat of the dancers he was watching & feel his body swaying slightly in time to the rhythm of the two girls. The upward motions of my breasts were already unconsciously in harmony with his movement & my sucking & kissing lovingly in sync downwards with my body.



He permitted me a kindness, reaching down and resting my trembling fingers on his arms. I was soon clutching his strong arms as in between my kisses & sucking I whimpered & moaned softly but uncontrollably.
The noise of the tavern was just a blur against the rhythm of his body & mine, against the drums & presumably the dancers. The dancers are frequently & violently raped in the course of an evening. But not permitted to orgasm, until the end of the evening when they are gang raped, by whoever wishes to fuck them. I had no idea how long I fellated him for, sometimes as long as half an hour, sometimes even longer.
Then abruptly I felt stiffen and spasm for just an instant then swell and erupt in my mouth. My instinctive gag reflex pulled me back, but my hair was now firmly clenched in his hands. Some men enjoy holding you firmly all through fellatio, some only at the point of ejaculation. I love the latter, that sudden forceful domination not that anybody took any notice of my preferences. He pressed himself deeply inside me, filling my mouth, gagging me, on his thick cum. He was ramming my face with violent pelvic thrusts Then just as I thought I might choke. He pulled himself free of my lips & spurted thick wads of his seed all over my face, my breasts and even my belly & thighs. Then he pushed himself back into my mouth & continued to spasm in thick bursts. I was choking now, straining to inhale & exhale desperately through my nostrils, as they started to fill up too. I was panicking now & rising..
Then will a final grunt of pleasure he stopped coming. He pulled out of my lips & snapped his fingers. I dropped onto all fours at his feet, my mouth full. Gorean men are extremely virile & come copiously. I was not permitted to swallow without permission. He sat back, still watching the dancers while I choked in tears at his feet.
Then he looked down “Swallow slut” he said dismissively.




Still choking & spluttering now I gulped down quickly.
“Thank you Master” I sobbed gratefully at his feet.
He passed no comment for a couple of minutes or so, still watching the dancers.
I waited, in silence.

Clean me slave

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Master did emily please you?

“Master did emily please you?”
He waited for a few moments while I continued to kiss his feet.
“Your intimate service is not in need of correction emily.”
I trembled, a shiver of excitement at that word correction, even though that correction was nearly always painful & humiliating correction. When I was a new slave freshly bought from the auction block. The raw brand still hot & burning in my buttock. I and the 2 other new girls. I was part of a batch of girls bought. All blonde earth girls, although I was the only virgin, although not after the first night. My first rape was raffled off, & then the next & next. Hooded I pulled the tokens from the bag myself. I think twenty men that first night. Obviously I was neither & never will be permitted to know their names or see the face of the man & the men who first opened me.
Those first few days I and the other two girls were taken from our chores & left waiting braceleted & hooded in an alcove. A pleasure whip trembling clutched in each of our buttocks. We were beaten every morning. Then the master would ask us what lessons we had learned the previous day. How we intended to correct our techniques. How we would strive to be more pleasurable. How we should comport ourselves. Our fears fantasies would be drawn from us & exploited. We had to be completely frank, any hesitation or reticence was swiftly & painfully punished. We were their property now.

We weren’t gagged while we were waiting and the other two new slaves were quite cruel to me, calling me a keen slut & a willing whore. They would make me cry miserably but would be just as fearfully obedient compliant when the master arrived. I realize now that they were jealous, because I had become the tutors favourite. Gorean men are not fair with their slaves, they choose who to enjoy, there are no turns.
Usually the other 2 girls would be beaten first then finally me. Then while my buttocks were still stinging he would usually enjoy my fellatio, while he questioned all three of us. If we weren’t directly serving him we had to face the wall. These sessions would last a couple of hours in the morning before we were sent back to our chores. Often at the end of the session one girl would be detained & raped. Masters found these sessions quite arousing too. Before being sent sticky back to scrubbing the floor. Usually we are not permitted to come during the day, obviously unless master wishes to enjoy our yielding. & more often than not it was me who was detained. A girl fresh to her submission, or her true submission, or fresh to her true nature, is always popular with the men till they become bored with you & move on to another girl.

New girls including Gorean girls take a little time to blossom into bondage. At first a girl is obedient purely out of fear. But over time her submission becomes emotional & she feels curiously liberated by her slavery. She eventually breaks forth into her sexuality her submission usually in a quantum leap. Overcome with emotion she seeks out the masters & seeks to confesses her slavery. She will be braceleted & hooded & taken to an alcove. Her confession is sobbed in darkness. He doesn’t speak, she is not to recognise him in any way. He will enjoy her sexually & she will for the first time yield completely to a man, washing her self away into his pleasure. She might then be raped by the other men in the tavern. & then left sobbing helplessly in the alcove. Sobbing in misery and ecstasy.
Mine was very early. The morning after my first night I and the other 2 new girls had served breakfast to the men. This was a sport on the masters part. As earth girls are usually only given the most menial chores, typically scrubbing floors, unless a particular masters desires our service. The sport was that any of these men might have been my first, or the other girls first. They had not been virgins but they had never before been subjected to multiple slave rape. We had all been weepy but desperate to be pleasing serving the cooked breakfasts and fetching coffee & hot bread to our despoilers.
Then later in the morning just after the customers had made their way about their business. I had nearly fainted , as I felt myself wash away with emotion. Terrified but unable to help myself I had crawled to where the tavern keepers were laughing & drinking. They knew immediately what was happening but had made me beg to confess. I had been hooded taken to an alcove & left locked in the stocks. I was so bewildered & lost I had sobbed & sobbed waiting until a master returned to the room. He had the other 2 new slaves with him. To my horror they knelt facing the wall hooded also but listening to my sobbing admission. My inferiority my utter desire to be pleasing, to be a perfect slave, to be truly feminine under male domination. & then my screaming sobbing orgasm as I was raped. The other tavern keepers had then raped me, while I was still confined in the stocks. Then I and the other two girls had been left. I was sobbing & moaning uncontrollable. The two girls weren’t sympathetic, they had been scandalised & were cruelly scornful. I didn’t care, all I wanted was to kneel at another mans feet & give him pleasure.
After a short while they were taken away back to their chores. I had been dildoed front & rear, held in place by thick straps and similarly dildo gagged & left again. The next few days I would work stuffed like this. I had been renamed ‘lily’ my first name removed & renamed to ‘candi’.
But nearly every morning we were taken to training & I was chosen to please him. One morning he had decided that the other two girls were to fellate him together. I had sobbed enough to annoy him & was punishment whipped. Another morning one of the other two had been punished the night before. She was informed that she would be punishment whipped again that evening. & that all 3 of us would not be permitted to toilet for 3 days.
Girls are regularly disciplined by toilet denial. Subject to punishment, training, humiliation totally on the whim of the masters. Often the girl will only be told just before her turn on the bucket. Instructed to remove herself from the queue & kneel facing the wall. Sobbing with humiliation & discomfort. Typically she wont be informed why leaving her uncertain & fearful, and eager to be pleasing again.
It has been found that we can be denied toileting for nearly a month without causing any physical damage. Apart from her extreme discomfort & distress. Girls about to go on the auction block are typically denied toileting for 2 weeks to better facilitate their display & sale squirming vulnerable in our discomfort. Desperately eager to be pleasing as we are fondled, probed and assessed.
Sobbing I had told Master that I hadn’t been able to toilet for the last two evenings. Having been serving intimately at the allotted time. I was then icily told that I too would be punishment whipped that evening, but would receive double the punishment of the other girl. He had asked me why, I answered correctly because I had demurred. He also told me that he hadn’t intended to include me in the toilet punishment, being aware I was frequently being used at toilet & cleaning time, but now because of my temerity I now would be. I had sobbed & thanked him for his strictness, thanked him truly from my slave heart.
Nonetheless I had loved this period & these sessions, they were so exciting. Even the whipping, to be the recipient of male attention, no matter how punitive. I had been so new and lost to my submission then. Foolishly I had thought this would peak & fade. But now I know that with every day I feel more helpless & submissive, anxious to be loving & pleasing, vulnerable to the men my masters. Lost to my emotions on my knees before my natural superiors & rightful owners, under his domination.
I was almost in tears, with submissive gratitude now.
“Thank you Master, emily thanks you Master, for choosing her & enjoying her Master”
“Continue kissing my feet slave” He told me.
“Yes Master, thank you Master”
I was almost choking in floods of tears now. Desperately cling to every last second with him. I often pity a mans private slaves. Waiting night after night locked in his seraglio (animal cage), to be chosen by him, if he is at home at all. How fraught they must be for their Masters touch. However it is said that tavern girls are equally hopelessly forlorn, & left utterly desolated by our constant use & dismissal. In earth girls the repression of our sexual submissiveness, the self denial that we truly are and truly want to be for mens pleasure, in particular leaves us emotionally sullied & abused, then vulnerable and utterly miserable & alone by each rape & rejection of dismissal. However that is also part of the pleasure in keeping earth girls. As the Gorean saying goes, one hasn’t seen a beautiful women until you have seen her in tears at your feet with need.
“emily would you like to kneel at my feet & watch the dancers?”
Me know only too well our sexual nature & the shameful obsessions of slavegirls. We are erotically thrilled & fascinated by the sensuous bodies of females like ourselves dancing & gyrating our curves in helpless sexual bondage. How I loved to watch the dancing for the men, & how I loved to dance for the men
“Oh yes please Master, emily would love to watch the dancers with you Master”
He left me gushing and bubbling with excitement at his feet for a few seconds then curtly snapped his fingers. I was to kneel facing the wall.
Disappointed but hurriedly & in tears I obeyed. What brutes the men are sometimes. How wonderful they are.
“Then it especially pleases me to deny you, a share in the enjoyment of their allure girl.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master”
“Bracelets”
“Yes Master”
I put my wrists together behind my back. They were expertly snapped in cold steel but pretty slave manacles. As were my ankles. The only difference between ankle & wrist bracelets apart from the shape & diameter of the shackle, is that ankle bracelets have a bell incorporated into the solo central link, instead of the small heart shaped padlock link.
“Master?”
“Yes girl?”
“Thank you for being so strict with emily, Master”
I heard him tap the blade of the pleasure whip on the side of his chair.
“Do not worry girl, you have barely tasted the strictness with which I intend to enjoy your obedience & intimate service, slut.”
I was frightened now.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
“Be silent now slut.”
Trembling facing the, & pressed to the wall, silently I whispered to myself, & my Master, a vulnerable & fearful ‘thank you Master’. My loins & belly were ablaze & melting now with sex & fear. I squirmed quietly, squidging in my own damp funk.
Behind me he stopped another girl & sent her to fetch him another cold beer. Then he turned his attention back to the dancers.
I waited.
What wonderful brutes the men are.
How I loved them.

Waiting for Him

My veil was plastered to my lips, as were my erect belled nipples clinging stickily to my thin apron. Stuck & sticky with his pleasure. All I could smell was his pleasure & my hot need. I kept my eyes closed as was proper for a slave kneeling to the wall. Unless explicitly instructed or permitted a woman is proscribed everything. Nothing is hers. When she is not in under male instruction she should be unobtrusive, quiet, still, her eyes closed. Her thoughts should be of how best to please her master or her next master. We are instructed to concentrate in minute detail on a particular detail in every aspect of service. Whether this is kissing his feet, plumping her lips for fellatio, opening her thighs to him, or kissing his cup. But to concentrate on just one instant of service, like the first lick or kiss of the frenulum & how to improve that for his pleasure. A girl must also be ever thankful to be permitted to serve the men. Grateful to be fed & watered, for each breath she is permitted by her owners. Thankful to be owned.
We also have simple mantras to repeat to ourselves. Such as;



I am a slave
I am owned by men
I love being a slave
I love being owned by men

I am for Masters pleasure
I love being for Masters pleasure
I love Masters pleasure
I love being Masters slave

If Master is not pleased I will be punished
If Master is not pleased I should be punished
If Master is not pleased I want to be punished
I love Master punishment

I love Master
I obey Master
I fear Master
I love Master

He is a man
He is free
He is a person
I am not, I am a slave girl, He owns me

I love Master
I am tears after His touch
I am in tears at dismissal
I love Master

We are to repeat these & similar simplistic feminine homilies to ourselves, filling our thoughts with gratitude to our owners toleration of us. This is especially helpful for earth girls like me, in purging the improper thoughts & desires from our former lives. Our feeble & inferior musings & emotions should have a sole purpose, obedience to male pleasure.


Behind me I heard Master order another girl to fetch him more beer. Then male voices. I am unable to understand male speech as the language is segregated into superior & inferior vocabularies. There is male speech, male to female speech, female to male speech & female to female speech. The discourse between master & slave is quite curt, dismissive, instructive, to her inferiority. Her replies respectful & submissive infused with feminine trepidation, & her anxiety to please him. A limited emotional submissive lexis. Lacking in all abstract & intellectual concepts except the most menial & sexual notions. Belying her status always in the 3rd person, denying her personhood. Speech between slavegirl & slavegirl, when & rarely permitted, quietly giddy, gushing with emotion. Scandalised, slightly giggly & coloured with a deep sense of inferiority & shame, self consciously aware that you are female in an utterly male dominated society. But also jealously wanton & needful, severely critical of any lacking in her behaviour.
Indeed most private households have a first girl who is responsible for the discipline of the other slaves. And as such she is very strict & harsh with her charges. Quick to whip for even the slightest imagined failings. Finding severe fault with many things below male notice. She is given a quirt a thin springy cane like whip to cajole her charges with. She will use it with the expertise of one who has felt its sting herself. Inflicting stinging lashes on the most tender part of the backs of the legs or between the legs. Fearful herself that any failings in chores that attracts punishment from her Master, she will also receive the same punishment & her place as first girl. The position is frequently rotated in any case. & she then will find her fellow slaves less than forgiving. The men find this quite amusing & useful in disciplinary terms.
Naturally this rotation doesn’t include earth girls. We are considered worthless & inferior even in comparison with Gorean slave girls. As such we are very strictly disciplined & harshly punished. By both the Master & the first girl. Often her painful attentions tinged with a mixture of disdain & jealousy towards the ‘blonde blow job slut’. Earth girls having been formerly & improperly free are considered to be in need of strict & painful discipline. Both in terms of punishment for any improper liberties they may have taken advantage of, & also to correct their behaviours. There is also the added pleasure of disciplining a beautiful woman, in seeing her crying at your feet. I might add that although we are frightened of and abhor the whip, we also love our masters uncompromising strictness.
The former first girl will find herself treated akin to an earth girl by the new whip hand, to her chagrin. But we can take no satisfaction in that as soon enough she might be first girl again.
Peasant girls make excellent & demanding first girls. Often when they are brought from the farmlands to the slave markets in large droves. A couple of girls will be trusted & selected as herders to drive the girls along with whips, mainly on their experience with other domestic animals. These herds of peasant girls are often not hooded or bound but just driven along like cattle. Unlike earth girls who are hooded & heavily constrained or city girls who are similarly physically restrained.



There was male laughter, then footsteps towards me & a leather hood was pulled roughly over my head. It was tight & clammy, slimy with cum from previous occupants. He buckled it under my chin then jerked me to my feet with the attached leash. The leash is quite long but I was held bent over at my waist, my head just below his belt. With the other end of the leash he struck me between the legs. Stung I yelped with pain & impotent pique.
They laughed again.
I sobbed with humiliation yet how I loved to be so powerless with such men.
Another stinging lash.
“Come along slut.” I was yanked forwards
Nearly being pulled off my feet, I yelped again in pain & alarm, in the darkness of the hood.
More laughter as I was pulled blindly through the tavern. Pushed & slapped aside by the men in the busy tavern. The whisper of submissive respect to the leash master, & the warm flesh of other serving girls hurriedly sliding past me, anxious not to keep their own masters waiting. My handler though in no particular hurry, harried me along with random lashes. Then he stopped to chat to another master for a few minutes, sill holding me uncomfortably bent over. The other master must have also been leading a slavegirl as she was handed over to my charge & the two of us were held pinioned below his belt. The two men chatted idly for five minutes or so, before parting & then were both dragged away to the alcoves. I was pushed to my knees & left I can only assume outside an alcove. As the other girl was led inside. There were terse words I couldn’t make out the words but the tone was harsh & then a loud slap & sob. I was dragged forward & then pushed me through the heavy leather curtain of an alcove.
He pushed me to my knees & pressed me into the low wooden stocks. My hooded face pressed to the floor, he hooked my ankle chain to the stocks so that my knees were pressed up against the board. My labial lips & anus vulnerable exposed tilted upwards.


The alcove already stank of sex, at least one girl had already been raped in here, but at a guess I would reckon at least 2. The thin leather rape mat under my shins was already quite unpleasantly clammy & sticky.
He put his fingers between my legs teasing out the bell attached to my clitoris. Flicking his finger pinging it, his finger caught the erect tissue stinging it. I whimpered, he flicked it again, catching the ring holding the bell. I yelped my eyes stinging with tears. In some taverns the girls have a small coin attached on the same ring, identifying the tavern. Although not the intended purpose, quite often the master will rip the coin from between her legs after he has finished with her. & although this doesn’t rip the tissue it feels like it is & is very painful. Thankfully not in this tavern but soon it was to be introduced.
“What a little slut you are emily”
“Yes Master, emily is a slut Master.”
“Perhaps I should rape you, emily & leave you holding the punishment whip ready for your Master to arrive”
If a girl left in the alcoves, waiting for her Master is raped before he arrives, she is punished. She is seen as being more desperate to satisfy her own needs, thus her smell & the wet sounds of her squidging thighs invited her rape by a passing master. Rather than more properly the smell of her slave heat & wet squirming thighs waiting to please the Master who had sent her to the alcoves. If a passing master is tempted to rape her, he will leave the punishment whip clutched in her trembling fearful buttocks waiting for her use master to arrive. Often he will beat her himself after her rape, or before & after. This is quite a pleasurable game for them. Slipping into the alcoves & raping us, often not saying anything to us & if not gagging us, not permitting us to speak. Then leaving us sobbing in misery waiting for the punishment whip.
Frequently they will enter an alcove quietly & observe us. Most masters are very good at this most having military experience. We only know they are there because we can hear their breathing. Often we imagine they are there when they aren’t, or have already slipped out of the alcove as silently as they entered. Sometimes they might finger us, testing our wetness then leave with a dismissive tsk. The sound is quite difficult to describe but indicates contempt for the filth of a slavegirl. Or a slap. For this reason we usually are not gagged in the alcoves while we wait. So we sob & beg at each imagined or not imagined presence.
“Master are you there?”
To be met with silence, or a simple
“Be silent slut!”
Or the gag.


The tight leather hoods are hand polished & buffed to be patent leather like in feel and appearance, on both the interior & exterior. They have no openings or vents but you can just about breathe through the leather. Buckled under the chin they come in two colours black & rape red, a bright vibrant, racing red or blood, like scarlet. Some taverns have a range different colours, but generally it is discipline black or pleasure red. The leather rape mats are all red too as are the leather alcove curtains. There are a couple of alcoves outfitted in black, these are larger alcoves usually used for punishment or gang rape, typically of the dancing slaves at the end of the evening.
We are instructed to close our eyes before being hooded so are not permitted to know what colour the hood is. If you see a girl being led away in the black hood, you might reasonably assume she is to be at the very least pleasure whipped & possibly raped. A red hood might signify just her rape, or a light whipping, or neither it simply depends on the masters will.
The evening before yesterday I was sent hooded to the stocks and shortly afterwards another slave was sent to join me. She is confined in the stocks next to me, our soft bodies pressed together. Sobbing convulsively with fright, I finally manage to calm down enough to ask her.
“Slave can you see what colour this ones hood is?”
An equally fearful response
“This girl is hooded too.”
“What colour is your hood?”
Sobbing “This girl doesn’t know.”
Both of us crying anxiously now
“This girl hope your hood is red.”
“This girl hope your hood is red too slave.”
The curtain opens and a Master enters,.
“Master have you come to punish us, Master?”
He doesn’t speak, we need no further prompting and both fall silent.
I feel him behind me a small dildo like device is pushed into my vagina. The pecker gag is already very slimy & difficult to hold. I hear him insert one into her. The curtain closes again but neither of us dares utter a word. A few tense minutes pass & I hear him take the dildo device from her. My hood is opened partially & the slimy device is pushed into my mouth, filling it. He buckles it tightly closed & then closes the hood. He gags her similarly with mine.
“That sounds better.” He says curtly “Doesn’t it slaves?”
Heavily gagged our muffled reply is barely audible & completely unintelligible.
“Much better!”
Standing again we both sense him go to the whip rack. The sharp terrible crack of the punishment whip in mid air then a single powerful blow simultaneously across the backs of legs, in the tender crease that joins buttock to thigh. I hear her muffled squeal of pain through her gag as she hears mine. The involuntary exclamation of pain seems to drive the gag deeper into my mouth, the head of the phallus pressing against the back of my throat. Increasing the helpless choking sensation.Our tender bottoms now burning & stinging with fire. The whip is hung between us, its thick brutal blade hangs in the cleavage like join of our buttocks. He leaves again closing the curtain & we wait sobbing now in pain & fear. Both of us hoping that he will not whip us again, or that the other will be whipped & not her, or that at least her whipping might be more lenient than the others. & both of us knowing that he will do as he pleases & most likely we will both be beaten.
We both are whipped & horribly, then he anally rapes her while I hold the whip in my smarting burning buttocks, clenched fearfully despite the subcutaneous bruising, lest I drop it & merit another whipping. I hear her coming loudly even through her gag & him grunting with pleasure. She cleans him while I wait fearfully in the stocks.
When she has finished cleaning him the tavern is nearly closing & the dancers are being removed from the cages. They are all pushed into the alcove 4 girls & me we are chained together, all hooded. I seem to be the only one gagged I guess from the frightened voices of the other girls. The whip is taken from me & all five of us are lashed liberally while the other men laugh drunkenly.
Then the raping starts. Roughly slapped & penetrated over & over again, still crying in helpless orgasm as the next master violates us. The other girl kneels to one side ready to clean the men with her tongue & fetch them drinks. We are raped about twenty times, before the men are satisfied. Exhausted we are pushed soiled & sticky into the holding cage with the other slaves. Soiled & sticky, bruised , crying still in multiple orgasm.
But that was just another night.
He asked the question again
“Perhaps I should rape you, emily & leave you holding the punishment whip ready for your Master to arrive, would you like me to rape you emily”
“Please Master, emily only wishes to be pleasing.”
“Beg me to rape you girl.”
“Master emily begs your touch, begs for you to enjoy her pleasures Master.”
“You want to feel me inside your wet little hole do you slave.”
“Yes Master, emily aches to hold you in her slave heat & please you.”
“Even if that means you will be whipped slave?”
“Yes Master emily begs your rape.”
I was almost beside myself with helpless desire to please him now
“I can smell your heat slave”
“Yes Master, please rape emily Master.”
“I can hear the juice of your thighs inviting me slave.”
“Please Master…”
He pressed his fingers between my labial lips spreading them & soaking his finger & my thighs.
“I can feel your slave filth emily”
“Please Master, please rape emily.”
He wiped his wet palm on my outer thigh. Then slapped me hard between the legs on my spread lips. I cried out in sudden startled pain. Then another slap across my bottom. He wiped his hand once again.
“Slut!”
“Yes Master.” I sobbed
“Stew & simmer well for your Master.”
“Yes Master.”
“He will be along shortly.”
“Or perhaps another Master will smell your heat, & rape you.”
“Yes Master.” I was crying.
This time another untranslatable derogatory Gorean sound rather than word. Roughly translated as filthy little cunt, but much more pejorative.
I heard the curtain close.
I sobbed captive in the darkness of my hood.
My sticky veil sodden with his pleasure was plastered across my lips inside the hood, causing each breath to catch, making me gasp & pant in the tight leather hood.
I was so wet & slick now, that I could barely move my thighs without an accompaniment of humiliating slippery sounds. Quite literally lathered & coated in my slave heat & the stale warm odour of sex in the alcove.
The alcoves are not very well ventilated. Although they have vents that can be opened for when the Master wishes to sleep overnight during the evening the vents are kept closed. The men seem to enjoy raping us in the sticky heat, in the smell of our excitement. After all they are cleaned afterwards.
There is a tiled bathing room where two girls wait to clean & dry masters with warm scented water & cooling balms. This like being in the kitchens in the evenings is not a popular chore, fortunately the rota rarely includes earth girls. If a girl is selected for these chores she strives her utmost to be sexually pleasing, & so not be stuck there again in the near future.
We are not so pampered. We are just instructed to reverse our veils & aprons, licking them clean of any exterior excess signs of rape. This has the effect of pushing any moist use inwards making the silk very clammy & even more slippery, clinging with trashy allure to our curves, catching attractively on taut exited nipples. We are liberally sprayed almost doused with cheap perfume, & sent back to the serving area.
I thought I could hear the curtain opening & then someone behind me, or so I thought.
“Master is that you?”
Silence
“Master…?”
Then the sound of the curtains closing opening , or was it just my imagination.
I was almost frantic, my imagination running wild.
So desperate not to taste the punishment whip. It is so, so horrid, your legs & bottom smart horribly for days. The thick brutal bullwhip feels like it is cutting bluntly through your flesh to your very bones. It only leaves the surface pink & puffy, deeply reddened for a couple of hours. But underneath the weal’s chafe excruciatingly for much longer, especially at the junctures where the lashes have crisscrossed. One lash is enough to reduce even the most defiant new slave inducing her to complete & terrified obedience. A girl feels herself outrageously fortunate if her master is lenient enough to limit her punishment to 20 lashes. There is simply barely a comparison in terms of pain at the point of contact between leather & flesh. Possibly the moment when the white hot branding iron first touches your skin, vaporising the skin & your independent personhood. Or the moment when the almost boiling transport enema is inserted into your anus, scarcely avoiding scalding your anal passage.
In fact the men rarely enter the alcoves unless they intend to rape you, or are seriously considering raping you. But masters will deliberately slap or rustle the curtain as they pass, sometimes poising to enjoy the cries of sexual fear from within the alcove. & possibly being tempted to enter & rape the slut who’s cries appeal to them.
But mostly it was simply my fervid fearful imagination.
In some of the other alcoves I could hear girls being used, the cries of helpless pleasure at his touch, the happy sounds of his satisfaction. Often a manly roar of joy as he comes. While I waited & waited, each second like an hour in the hood.
In one of the other alcoves a girl was being whipped with the pleasure whip. The short riding crop the most common of the pleasure whips. So named not for her pleasure but the urgency it gives her desire to be pleasing to him. Stinging with tender pain, fearful of a repeat, or worse beating, we are so anxious to please. I recognised her voice, she had been named adele, just after I had been renamed from adele to emily. She was also a hot blonde & from earth. I had often served with her, when a master wants a twosome. We both have the very light golden blonde hair, that is relatively rare on Gorean girls. More common is the white Scandinavian blondeness, or a whiteness that looks like peroxide blonde but is natural here. Our blondeness is sought in the import market, although many brunettes & other hair colours also fall hapless victim to the slavers. I was often jealous of her and she of me, & often filled with shameful sapphic feelings for her. She was whimpering fearfully and sobbing at each lash. At a guess I would say she was still in the darkness of her hood. & probably standing her wrist manacles attached to her ankles to better facilitate the application of the crop pleasure whip. I couldn’t make out her masters questions or her half moaned whimpered replies. But from tone his enjoyment at her distress at her preparation was obvious. I was glad & jealous too. & even more so when I heard her beating stop & a loud squelch and moan of need as he entered her.
Oh Master, please come soon.
Sometimes they leave you for over an hour, sometimes they lose interest in your rape & you are sent back to wait in the serving cage.
In the darkness of my hood I hoped he would come & wondered how he rigorously intended to apply the “strictness with which” he intended to enjoy my “obedience & intimate service”
There are a few varieties of pleasure whip.
Would he be as strict as adele’s master, secretly I hoped so. The men know & enjoy exploiting this shame. Or would he be stricter. How in awe of them I was & how wonderfully powerless & vulnerable to their lusts.
I waited listening to other slaves in ecstasy at their surrender. & the phantoms of my imagination.
I waited my body trembling & quivering prettily captive in the stock.