A New Girl's Fate by Arealius the Scribe
This Gorean fiction and illustrations were created or edited with AI.
A New Girl's Fate
The soft melody drifted through the streets, captivating my barbarian self’s attention. I followed the sound to a brightly lit inn, where the friend girl's skilled fingers danced across the harp strings. Stepping inside, I lowered myself to my knees, respectfully greeting, "Tal Master, Mistress."
My fellow barbarian friend's smile welcomed me, and I waved at the girl kneeling across from her. "Tal Master."
The Master Slaver's girl winked, her mischievous glint sparking curiosity.
"I am presently called 'the Master's girl'... ummm... new to me girl..." he said.
The Master Slaver clarified, "Greetings, Barbarian... But greet men first, then women, then slaves..." His hand hovered near the Master Slaver's girl's leash.
Lady Slaver chimed in, "Well, not quite trained, but I'm sure you'll sort him out soon enough." Her teasing words hinted at rivalry with the Master Slaver.
The friend girl's music filled the room, and the Master Slaver's girl's smile broadened. "And I am 'the Master's girl' at present, as'..."
I noticed the collar and chain, my cheeks flushing. "Slave Master?" I questioned, pointing at the Master's girl.
The Master Slaver nodded. "Aye, Barbarian... Men can be slaves as well... But not often more than... thralls..."
Lady Slaver's fingers slipped through my hair, her claw-like nail touching my cheek. "Go get your verr, Barbarian."
I rose, hurrying out to retrieve my verr. Excitement filled me.
Upon returning, the friend girl's harp playing continued, accompanied by the vulo's fluttering wings.
The Master Slaver joked, "Verr and vulo... I smell lunch..." the Master Slaver's girl snickered.
Lady Slaver's irritation surfaced. "I am less than pleased with a few things... Merchant law broken again." Her gaze locked onto the Master Slaver.
the friend girl intervened, "Oh no, Master... umm... vulo needs to have eggs first, Master."
The Master Slaver's girl's snicker echoed, and the Master Slaver's curiosity piqued. "Merchant law broken...?
How so...?"
I returned with my verr, petting it soothingly, sensing the tension.
Lady Slaver's soft laughter filled the air, her eyes sparkling with amusement. But her gaze soon shifted to the Master Slaver's girl, scrutinizing his chest and thigh for a brand.
"See anything missing, Dain?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of challenge.
the Master Slaver's lips rounded into a silent "oh." "No kef... Probably should have had that done before the auction..."
I returned with my verr, giggling as I held it up for the Master Slaver's girl to see. But my smile faltered as Lady Slaver's slippered foot pushed my camisk up, exposing my unbranded thigh.
the friend girl's harp playing slowed, her fingers tired. the Master Slaver's girl absently scratched his own brand, happy to be collared and leashed.
"The slave or the verr or both, my Master?" the Master Slaver's girl asked, his voice tinged with mischief.
Lady Slaver's gaze locked onto the friend girl. "Yes, she is not the first to be rented or sold without a brand. It cannot continue. I have been taking each of the girls to get branded."
The friend girl's eyes widened, her harp strings vibrating with a nervous tremble. "Aww, poor verr... umm, yes, your office, Mistress."
The Master Slaver chuckled. "You speak true and wisely, my friend..."
I shifted on my knees, concern etching my face. "I the friend girl kennel?" I asked, canting my head.
Lady Slaver guided me up, her hand under my arm pit. "Barbarian, stand."
The friend girl returned with rope, her eyes filled with trepidation. "Is branding for those who have been trained as slaves, Mistress?" she asked, stalling.
Lady Slaver's gaze narrowed. "Yes, the friend girl. It is."
the Master Slaver's girl squirmed, curiosity burning within him.
The Master Slaver rose, his eyes locked onto Lady Slaver. "Rise, the Master Slaver's girl..."
The air thickened with tension, the sound of the friend girl's harp fading into the background.
I stood, my muscles straining from the sudden movement, as Lady Slaver's hand guided me up. Seeing the rope in the friend girl's hands, I took a step back, squeezing the verr closer.
The Master Slaver's girl rose swiftly, his eyes cast downward.
Lady Slaver's words dripped with authority. "Branding should be done before any purchase or sale... Hand me your verr, Barbarian."
I hesitated, clutching the verr tight. "No food, Mistress?"
Lady Slaver's gaze never wavered. "Remove the camisk."
The friend girl's harp playing had ceased, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding.
I untied the camisk, letting it fall to my feet. Stepping out of it, I picked it up, holding it against my belly.
The Master Slaver's girl craned his neck, trying to see around Lady Slaver.
the Master Slaver greeted the Lady Innkeeper d'coco, "Tal, Lady Innkeeper... I trust your day goes well?"
Lady Slaver took the camisk, exchanging it for the verr. "Girl, the rope."
The friend girl handed over the rope, her eyes filled with concern.
I held the verr close, its warmth against my breast a comfort.
"I bad Mistress?" I questioned, fearing punishment.
Lady Slaver's voice softened. "You are not in trouble, barbarian."
The friend girl translated in a gentle voice, "Hold the verr close to your breast, Barbarian. Mistress will bind it to you with the rope."
My eyes darted between Lady Slaver and the friend girl, uncertainty etched on my face.
The friend girl's soft words in Barbarian reached my ears, "Barbarian, Mistress wants you to hold the verr close to your chest, hold him still, Barbarian. You're not in trouble, Barbarian. Mistress is binding the verr with rope."
I clutched the verr tight, its legs still. "No hurt, Mistress," I begged, eyes widening as the rope drew closer.
The Master Slaver's girl's brow furrowed. "That sounds familiar... what language is that, friend?"
The friend girl replied, "It's English, one of many languages from Earth... I speak Cherokee, but learned English and Gorean."
Lady Slaver began binding the verr to me, her hands moving deftly. "I'm going to bind the verr to you, Barbarian."
The friend girl translated, "Barbarian, Mistress says hold tightly, as she binds the verr."
I felt the rope tighten under my arms, securing the verr to my chest. Panic set in as I realized my arms were being bound.
"No, Mistress!" I struggled, but the rope held fast.
Lady Slaver's hands moved swiftly, crisscrossing the rope over my chest, wrapping my wrists, and securing the rope around my arms.
I was trussed up, unable to move.
The friend girl's eyes met mine, a fleeting glance of sadness and fear.
Lady Slaver attached a thin chain to my collar. "Come along, Barbarian. You have a date."
I stumbled, the chain tugging, as I tried to pull away.
"Why did she do this?" I asked in Barbarian, twisting and struggling against the ropes.
The friend girl looked away, her eyes filled with unspoken questions.
The Master Slaver's voice cut through the tension. "Be ready to heel, the Master Slaver's girl..."
The Master Slaver's girl nodded, his eyes locked onto his Master.
As Lady Slaver led me away, I caught the friend girl's gaze, searching for answers.
The friend girl's whispered words sent a chill down my spine, "They want to give you a nice mark, like me," she pointed to her leg, "to say you're a slave."
I struggled against the ropes, panic rising.
Lady Slaver instructed the friend girl, "Fetch my box from the desk, the one with medicine and leather roll. Meet us at the blacksmith shop."
The friend girl asked, "Umm, yes Mistress, no cold rag?"
Lady Slaver replied, "You will find what is needed in the box. Just bring the box. You will tend to her after she is branded."
The friend girl's eyes welled up with tears, but she hid them from me.
I pleaded, "No brand, Mistress, I no brand!"
Lady Slaver's hand on my cheek offered fleeting comfort before she led me out of the inn.
The northern girl stayed behind, smiling sorrowfully at me.
The Master Slaver's girl wondered how much patience Lady Slaver would show.
Outside, Lady Slaver's grip on the leash tightened, her foot pressing down on it.
"You will be branded," she said, her voice firm.
The friend girl asked if she must watch, and Lady Slaver spared her, "You may bring me the box and tend to others."
As Lady Slaver pulled me toward the blacksmith shop, I stumbled, my heels digging into the wood.
The friend girl told me in our language, "Barbarian, they will tie you to the log so you won't move. It will hurt, but they'll do it anyway. After it's over, I'll come to help you feel better."
I looked at the friend girl, then back at Lady Slaver, resignation settling in.
The friend girl encouraged, "Don't fight it, Barbarian. It will be worse, and you'll scare the verr too."
the Master Slaver offered the Master Slaver's girl's help and Tassa-dipped darts.
Lady Slaver acknowledged the Master Slaver's offer, her gaze lingering on the Master Slaver's girl.
The blacksmith greeted Lady Slaver, "Got another one for me, I see."
We approached the blacksmith shop, my heart heavy with foreboding.
The friend girl's eyes locked onto mine, fear, and concern etched on her face.
"Girl, they will brand the verr first. Try to calm the verr; it's scared too," she whispered.
I pleaded, "I good, the friend girl."
The friend girl's voice trembled, "Barbarian, please try to trust. It will be over soon."
The blacksmith branded the verr, its screams echoing through the air.
Lady Slaver spoke calmly, "This will be done to you as it has been done to the verr, Barbarian."
The friend girl covered her mouth and ears, tears streaming down her face.
I squeezed the verr tighter, trying to comfort it.
Lady Slaver's fingers touched my forehead, but I couldn't speak.
The blacksmith heated the iron again, its glow ominous.
The friend girl encouraged, "Barbarian, sing to the verr if you can."
The Lady Innkeeper kissed her tear-stained fingers and pressed them to my cheek.
I looked up at Lady Slaver, my lip trembling.
Lady Slaver's voice seemed distant, "Tal Warrior, it's good to see you."
The blacksmith's iron gleamed, ready to brand me.
Lady Slaver's gentle touch on my cheek meant nothing; I just stared at her.
The friend girl handed Lady Slaver the medicine, asking, "Will she get more later, Mistress?"
Lady Slaver freed the verr and me from our bindings.
I took wobbly steps, feeling the leash's restraint.
Lady Slaver removed the leash from my collar. "You're free to go, Barbarian."
The friend girl and northern girl were tasked with watching me.
I looked at the friend girl, then Libbi, before taking slow steps away.
The burning pain and humiliation lingered.
The friend girl approached me cautiously. "Barbarian, let's clean you up."
Libbi offered a gentle smile. "You're strong, Barbarian."
The Master Slaver nodded in agreement. "Aye, you handled that well."
Lady Slaver packed up the remaining items, her expression unreadable.
the Lady Innkeeper wiped away tears, her eyes filled with empathy.
The Warrior nodded and turned to leave, the smell of burnt flesh lingering.
I took another step, my eyes fixed on the exit.
I stepped out of the blacksmith's shop, the bright sunlight stinging my eyes.
The friend girl walked beside me, her hand on my arm. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Libbi followed, her voice soft. "We'll help you through this."
The verr, sensing my distress, nuzzled my chest.
Lady Slaver's voice carried from behind. "the friend girl, ensure Barbarian understands the brand's significance."
The friend girl translated, her voice gentle. "Barbarian, the Kef brand marks you as a slave."
I nodded, the weight of my new reality settling in.
We walked to the nearby fountain, the friend girl guiding me.
The northern girl helped the friend girl clean my face, wiping away tears and snot.
The cool water soothed my skin, but the burning pain remained.
The friend girl applied more medicine, her touch gentle.
As they tended to me, I noticed the curious glances from passersby.
Some pitied me; others seemed indifferent.
The Master Slaver stood watch, his presence reassuring.
The Lady Innkeeper handed me a cloth, her eyes filled with compassion.
The Warrior disappeared into the crowd, his expression unreadable.
Lady Slaver waited, observing from a distance.
I looked down at the brand, the Kef symbol seared into my thigh.
A constant reminder of my enslavement.
((Editorial Note:
Source: Meta AI
The Gorean Chronicles is a series of science fantasy novels written by John Norman, beginning with "Tarnsman of Gor" in 1966. The series is set on the planet Gor, a fictional world where men are dominant and women are often subservient.
Setting:
Gor is a counter-Earth, identical in size, gravity, and atmosphere, but opposite in location. The planet is divided into city-states, each with its unique culture, architecture, and traditions.
Society:
Gorean society is patriarchal, with men holding positions of power. Women are often relegated to domestic roles or enslaved. Slavery is a fundamental aspect of Gorean culture, with slaves serving various purposes, including labor, pleasure, and companionship.
Plot:
The series follows various protagonists, including Tarl Cabot, a warrior from Earth transported to Gor, and later, other characters. The stories explore themes of honor, loyalty, power struggles, and the complexities of Gorean society.
Key Elements:
1. Slavery: A central theme, exploring the relationships between masters and slaves.
2. Caste System: Goreans are divided into castes, influencing social status and occupation.
3. War and Politics: City-states vie for power, leading to conflicts and alliances.
4. Culture and Tradition: Richly detailed descriptions of Gorean customs, architecture, and art.
5. Philosophy and Ethics: Explorations of morality, honor, and personal freedom.
Influence and Community:
The Gorean Chronicles have inspired a dedicated fan base, with online forums, role-playing communities, and conventions. The series' themes and world-building have influenced other authors and creators.
Controversy:
The series has faced criticism for its depiction of slavery, sexism, and violence. Some view the books as promoting harmful attitudes toward women and marginalized groups. Others see them as thought-provoking explorations of complex social issues.
Conclusion:
The Gorean Chronicles are a sprawling, intricate series exploring themes of power, culture, and identity. While controversial, they remain a significant part of science fiction and fantasy literature, inspiring passionate debate and dedication among fans.
According to Gorean lore, a kajira is usually branded:
1. Upon enslavement: When a free woman is captured or sold into slavery, she is typically branded soon after.
2. After training: After a kajira has completed her training, she may be branded as a symbol of her new status.
3. When sold: If a kajira is sold to a new master, she may be rebranded with her new owner's mark.
The branding process is often depicted as a significant and traumatic event in a kajira's life. It serves as a physical and emotional reminder of her enslavement and subservience.
Gorean brands are typically applied using a hot iron, and the location and design of the brand vary depending on the city or region. Common locations for brands include:
1. Left thigh (most common)
2. Right thigh
3. Left or right shoulder
4. Left or right breast
Some common Gorean brands include:
1. The Kef (a common brand for pleasure slaves)
2. The Dina (a brand for domestic slaves)
3. The Tuchuk (a brand associated with the nomadic Tuchuk people)
According to Gorean Merchant Law, as described in the Gorean Chronicles, the optimum time for a kajira to be branded is immediately after her enslavement, specifically:
1. After the enslavement ceremony: Once a woman has been formally enslaved, either through capture, purchase, or other means, she is typically branded soon after.
2. Before her first sale: If a kajira is to be sold, branding her before the sale helps establish her status and value.
3. Within 48 hours: Gorean Merchant Law suggests that branding should occur within 48 hours of enslavement to ensure the kajira's identification and prevent potential disputes.
Branding a kajira promptly after enslavement serves several purposes:
1. Prevents escape: Branding makes it more difficult for a kajira to deny her slave status or attempt to escape.
2. Establishes ownership: The brand clearly indicates the kajira's owner and helps prevent disputes over ownership.
3. Facilitates trade: A branded kajira is more easily valued and traded among merchants.
Gorean Merchant Law emphasizes the importance of proper documentation, including:
1. Slave papers: Recording the kajira's enslavement, sale, and branding.
2. Brand registration: Registering the brand with local authorities to prevent counterfeiting.
Please note that the Gorean Chronicles are fiction, and these laws and practices are not applicable in the real world.
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