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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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The Free Woman's Lament
by Slave to Magick (magiker@gmail.com)
***
This is just a short little fan-fiction set in the Gor
world where a Free woman is lamenting not being a
slave anymore and is fighting between pride of being a
Free woman and her desire to submit as a slave. More
psychological than erotic as there is no actual sex in
this story. (MF, rom, bd, sci-fi)
***
Author Note: This work is a fan-fiction, it is just
written for my own amusement, it is not meant as an
infringement of the rights of Mr John Norman over the
Gor setting. All honor to the man who actually created
this wonderful setting. I have no rights over it what
so ever and is just writing a fan-fiction to have fun
with it.)
***
I bend down at set the finely woven basket full of
clean clothes on the smooth wooden floor. I had
created that basket once, my fingers patiently weaving
the strands of dried grass, forming patters and making
a tool which would last many years. I open the chest
where my companion store his clothes and one by one I
put carefully folded pieces of garment in, all
lovingly washed and tended, I have applied myself to
making the clothes as crisp as my free companion like
them, and I have folded them the way he like them.
For a former slave paying such attention to the cloth
which will adorn my man's body is one of the few
things I have left where I can be of service to him.
Yes I keep his household clean, I put food on his
table at at times I please him in bed, but while
washing his clothes it is as if in a small way my
passionate arms still caress him like they did when I
belonged to him.
As I put away clothes my fingers meet metal, the
coldness of steel is like a shock against my warm
fingertips. Trembling I lift out the slender ring of
steel which once adorned my neck. Emotions overwhelm
me and I have to sit down on the sort bundle of hay
and furs which serve as our bed. Once this pale,
silvery, gray circle was the symbol of my enslavement.
The collar still bears the engraving; "I belong to The
man of the Warrior Caste." I close my eyes and feel
tears run down my chin, there had been many years
since I had worn this piece of steel.
Lovingly I run my fingers over the collar's smooth
surface, here and thee I can feel the tiny bit of
unevenness where the metal worker who created this put
his tools, little reminders that here on Gor things
are created by the loving labor of skilled men and
women and not by factories and machines. As I hold the
collar I cannot help but long for the wild passion of
making love to my Master, the burning desire to please
him and the fear of the whip. Theman freed me, made me
his companion, but inside of my body a slave heart
still beats.
I know I am being both foolish and ungrateful, I have
been granted the honor of sitting by Theman's side, to
be his confidant, his friend and the mistress of his
house, if we had lived on Earth I would be his wife.
Now men show me respect when I walk outside in my
robes and veils, when I enter a room they stand and
when they glance at me they see their mother, their
sisters and their daughters, if I ever stumble on the
road or any danger befall me, free men are gallant
enough to step in and help me, I am a free woman of
Gor, a gem, priceless I am told, as opposed to this
when I was a slave more often than not when I waled
into a room the men did not even acknowledge that I
was there, if I opened my moth it was as likely to be
slapped or filled with cock than listened to, I was a
pet, property just a slave girl.
I close my eyes and shake my head, what a fool woman I
am, for I would gladly trade all those nods of
respect, men pulling out my chair for me and the title
of Lady to be forced to the floor and be used and
abused again, and even more so I would trade all I had
to be owned again, to be bound by my Master's will, I
long to again be property, to a time when the only
important thing in my existence was pleasing my
Master, back then Theron was my single point of focus,
he was my world, my reason for being, his discipline
and mastery over me where my soul.
With a sigh I stand and put the collar back into the
chest. Slowly I pick up the laundry basket and
continue my task of putting my companion's clothing
away. I was indeed both foolish and selfish. I longed
to again feel the discipline of slavery, however I had
been given the gift of freedom from the man I love. I
had been given the right to accept or refuse his
companionship, to love him or not.
Theman wanted me as a companion, he needed a woman to
sit by his side and not at his feet and then it do not
matter what I wish or what I long for. Yes now I have
a choice and I choose to serve the man I love. As long
as Theman wants a free companion I will be that
companion, I might still long for slavery, but I will
suppress those desires, I was born to serve the needs
of my man, and serve him I will no matter what role he
want me in.
One day Theman perhaps will enslave me again, or
perhaps he will decide to buy another woman to ravage
in bed and leave me a companion. Like a willow tree I
will bend and shape myself after the strong winds
which is my man's desires. I slowly stand having
finished my task and smiles slightly to myself. In a
way I am still a slave, I am still serving the man I
love just in a different way, where I once served him
as slut I now serve him as wife.
With a content smile on my lips I step over the floor
(my man have carved with his own hands) towards the
kitchen. I might have exchanged a collar for the robes
of concealment, but I was still a woman in service, in
service for love.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 77