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#Post#: 168--------------------------------------------------
Northern Women and bonds
By: Oreo Date: February 25, 2014, 10:51 pm
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Hatred of slaves seems to be more pronounced in the free women
of the North.
[quote]
Women of Torvaldsland
I heard a woman sobbing with emotion to my right. "Praise the
Priest-Kings," she repeated endlessly to herself, nodding her
head up and down
Near her , bored, was a slender, blondish girl, looking about.
He r hair was hung in a snood of scarlet yarn, bound with
filaments of golden wire. She wore, over her shoulder, a cape of
white fur of the northern sea sleen. She had a scarlet vest,
embroidered in gold, worn over a long-sleeved blouse of white
wool, from distant Ar. She wore, too, a log woollen skirt, dyed
red, which was belted with black, with a buckle of gold, wrought
in Cos. She wore shoes of black polished leather, which folded
about her ankles, laced twice, once across the instep, once
about the ankle.
She saw me regarding her with interest, and looked away.
Marauders of Gor, page 25
I looked again upon the slender, blondish girl, bored in the
crowd. Again she looked at me, and looked away. She was richly
dressed. The cape of white fur was a splendid fur. The scarlet
vest, the blouse of white wool, the long woollen skirt, red,
were fine goods. The buckle from Cos was expensive. Even the
shoes of black leather were finely tooled. I supposed her the
daughter of a rich merchant. There were other good looking
wenches, too, in the crowd, generally blond girls, as are most
of the northern girls, many with braided hair. They were in
festival finery. This was holiday in Kassau. Marauders of Gor,
page 34
I examined the younger women on the platform. None, it seemed to
me, was as excellent as the slender blond girl in the cape of
white sea-sleen fur and scarlet vest. One was, however, not
without interest. She was a tall, statuesque girl, lofty and
proud, grey-eyed. She wore black and silver, a full,
ankle-length gown of rich, black velvet, with silver belts, or
straps, that crossed over her breasts, and tied about her waist.
From it, by strings, hung a silver purse, that seemed weighty.
Her blond hair was lifted from the sides and back of her head by
a comb of bone and leather, like an inverted isosceles triangle,
the comb fastened by a tiny black ribbon about her neck and
another such ribbon about her forehead. Her cloak, of black fur,
, from the black sea sleen, glossy and deep, swirled to her
ankles. It was fastened by a large circular brooch of silver,
probably from Tharna. She was doubtless the daughter of a very
rich man. Shewould have manysuitors. Marauders of Gor, page 35
"Go to the bond-maid circle," said IvarForkbeard, indicating the
circle he had drawn in the dirt.
The women cried out in misery. To enter the circle, if one is a
female, is, by the laws of Torvaldsland, to declare oneself a
bond-maid. A woman, of course, need not to enter the circle of
her own free will. She may, for example, be thrown within it,
naked and bound. Howsoever she enters the circle, voluntarily,
or by force, free or secured, she emerges from it, by the laws
of Torvaldsland, as a bond-maid. Marauders of Gor, page 45, 45
Notes on Habiliment
Now, Helga was not a common women of the North, her father was
the richest men known or very close to it, she didn’t need to go
outside and walk in the mud and do chores like most common free
women would.
She wore rich green velvet, closed high about her neck, trimmed
with gold.
She took the next vial, which I had opened for her. “No,” she
said, handing it back to me.
Her hair, long, was braided. It was tied with golden string.
Marauders of Gor, page 112
Her hands wore many rings. About her neck she wore, looped, four
chains of gold, with pendants. On her wrists were bracelets of
silver and gold. Marauders of Gor, page 114
My assistant and I knelt before her, at her feet. She wore,
beneath her green velvet, golden shoes. Marauders of Gor, page
115
A bad habit on Gor is to see free women coddling, petting,
touching, hugging slaves and bond-maids. Free women simply do
not like bond-maids, they are all that they hate, they deal with
them impersonally and swiftly.
This is a wooden walkway, about five feet wide and one hundred
feet long. On the walkway, back and forth, smiling, looking one
way then the other, turning about, parade stripped bond-maids.
They are not for sale, though many are sold from the platform.
The platform is instituted for the pleasure of the free men. It
is not unanalogous to the talmit competitions, though no talmit
is awarded. There are judges, usually minor Jarls and slavers.
No judge, incidentally, is female. No female is regarded as
competent to judge a female’s beauty; only a man, it is said,
can do that. Marauders of Gor, page 153
Hatred of slaves seems to be more pronounced in the free women
of the North.
It can not be said enough, that northern woman even more then
there southern sisters despise bond-maids, it is clearly
mentioned that they are a thousand times above sultry bond-maids
and all bond-maids we see are sensual and sexually open as soon
there are no free women around. Free women will disregard this
quote and not all the quote is emboldened or in italics not to
anger, but these are facts one should take into consideration.
Free women view the platform with stern disapproval; on it,
female beauty is displayed for the inspection of men; this, for
some reason, outrages them; perhaps they are furious because
they cannot display their own beauty, or that they are not
themselves as beautiful as women found fit, by lusty men with
discerning eyes, for slavery; it is difficult to know what the
truth is in such matters; these matters are further complicated,
particularly in the north, by the conviction among free women
that free women are above such things as sex, and that only low
and loose girls, and slaves, are interested in such matters;
free women of the north regard themselves as superior to sex;
many are frigid, at least until carried off and collared; they
often insist that, even when they have faces and figures that
drive men wild, that it is their mind on which he must
concentrate his attentions; some free men, to their misery, and
the perhaps surprising irritation of the female, attempt to
comply with this imperative; they are fools enough to believe
what such women claim is the truth about themselves; they should
listen instead to the dreams and fantasies of women, and recall,
for their instruction, the responses of a free woman, once
collared, squirming in the chains of a bond-maid. These teach us
truths which many women dare not speak and which, by others, are
denied, interestingly, with a most psychologically revealing
hysteria and vehemence. “No woman,” it is said, “knows truly
what she is until she has worn the collar.” Some free women
apparently fear sex because they feel it lowers the woman. This
is quite correct. In few, if any, human relationships is there
perfect equality. The subtle tensions of dominance and
submission, universal in the animal world, remain ineradicably
in our blood; they may be thwarted and frustrated but, thwarted
and frustrated, they will remain. It is the nature of the male,
among the mammals, to dominate, that of the female to submit.
The fact that humans have minds does not cancel the truths of
the blood, but permits their enrichment and enhancement, their
expression in physical and psychological ecstasies far beyond
the reach of simpler organisms; the female slave submits to her
master in a thousand dimensions, in each of which she is his
slave, in each of which he dominates her.
“Shameful!” cried the free woman.
In the lowering of the woman, of course, a common consequence of
her helplessness in the arms of a powerful male, her
surrenderings, her being forced to submit, she finds, incredibly
to some perhaps, her freedom, her ecstasy, her fulfillment, her
exaltation, her joy; in the Gorean mind this matter is simple;
it is the nature of the female to submit; accordingly, it is
natural that, when she is forced to acknowledge, accept, express
and reveal this nature, that she should be almost deliriously
joyful, and thankful, to her master; she has been taught her
womanhood; no longer is she a sexless, competitive pseudoman;
she is then, as she was not before, female; she then finds
herself, perhaps for the first time, clearly differentiated from
the male, and vulnerably, joyfully, complementary to him; she
has, of course, no choice in this matter; it is not permitted
her; collared, she submits; I know of no group of women as
joyful, as spontaneous, as loving and vital, as healthy and
beautiful, as excited, as free in their delights and emotions,
as Gorean slave girls; it is true they must live under the will
of men, and must fear them, and the lash of their whips, but, in
spite of these things, they walk with a sensuous beauty and
pride; they know themselves owned; but they wear their collars
with a shameless audacity, a joy, an insolent pride that would
scandalize and frighten the bored, depressed, frustrated women
of Earth.
“I do not approve of the platform,” said the free woman, coldly.
Forkbeard did not respond to her, but regarded her with great
deference.
“These females,” she said, indicating the Forkbeard’s girls, who
knelt at her feet, their heads to the turf, “could be better
employed on your farm, dunging fields and making butter.”
The habiliments of Bera again is that of a woman that is
companioned to one of the richest man in Torvaldsland, by her
clothing and accoutrements, it is easy to determine her status
among others. The wool used for her kirtle is from Ar.
The free woman was a tall woman, large. She wore a great cape of
fur, of white sea-sleen, thrown back to reveal the whiteness of
her arms. Her kirtle was of the finest wool of Ar, dyed scarlet,
with black trimmings. She wore two brooches, both carved of the
horn of kailiauk, mounted in gold. At her waist she wore a
jewelled scabbard, protruding from which I saw the ornamented,
twisted blade of a Turian dagger; free women in Torvaldsland
commonly carry a knife; at her belt, too, hung her scissors, and
a ring of many keys, indicating that her hall contained many
chests or doors; her hair was worn high, wrapped about a comb,
matching the brooches, of the horn of kailiauk; the fact that
her hair was worn dressed indicated that she stood in
companionship; the number of keys, together with the scissors,
indicated that she was mistress of a great house. She had gray
eyes; her hair was dark; her face was cold, and harsh. Marauders
of Gor, page 154 to 156[/quote]
#Post#: 170--------------------------------------------------
Re: Northern Women and bonds
By: Oreo Date: February 25, 2014, 10:58 pm
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Free women might retire early from the hall of their men...after
making the life of bond-maids miserable of course..
Male thralls turned the spits over the long fire; female
thralls, bond-maids, served the tables. The girls, though
collared in the manner of Torvaldsland, and serving men, were
fully clothed. Their kirtles of white wool, smudged and stained
with grease, fell to their ankles; they hurried about; they were
barefoot; their arms, too, were bare; their hair was tied with
strings behind their heads, to keep it free from sparks; their
faces were, on the whole, dirty, smudged with dirt and grease;
they were worked hard; Bera, I noted, kept much of an eye upon
them; one girl, seized by a warrior, her waist held, his other
hand sliding upward from her ankle beneath the single garment
permitted her, the long, stained woolen kirtle, making her cry
out with pleasure, dared to thrust her lips eagerly, furtively,
to his; but she was seen by Bera; orders were given; by male
thralls she was bound and, weeping, thrust to the kitchen, there
to be stripped and beaten; I presumed that if Bera were not
present the feast might have taken a different turn; her frigid,
cold presence was, doubtless, not much welcomed by the men. But
she was the woman of Svein Blue Tooth. I supposed, in time,
normally, she would retire, doubtless taking Svein Blue Tooth
with her. It would be then that the men might thrust back the
tables and hand the bond-maids about. No Jarl I knew can hold
men in his hall unless there are ample women for them. I felt
sorry for Svein Blue Tooth. This night, however, it seemed Bera
had no intention of retiring early. I suspected this might have
accounted somewhat for the ugliness of the men with the
entertainers, not that the men of Torvaldsland, under any
circumstances, constitute an easily pleased audience. Generally
only Kaissa and the songs of skalds can hold their attention for
long hours, that and stories told at the tables.
Marauders of Gor, page 195-196
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