The real role of Free Women in Gorean society is one of the most misinterpreted aspects on Gor. This misunderstanding is constantly being revived by various factors. First of all, by the language in most books that all women should be slaves. Second, a cursory reading of the books reveals that almost all of the important characters of free women, who are often haughty, end up as slaves. And third, there is the myth that male dominance on Gor is absolute. These three reasons combine to twist the reader's view of the free women of Gor. It is only through a deeper study of the Books of Gor that one understands the true complexity of the role of free women on Gor. They are far more than potential slaves.
The vast majority of women on Gor are free women. Only 2-3% of all women are actually slaves. This statistic alone speaks volumes about the status of free women in Gorean society. Despite all the rhetoric, Goreans do not fall into such platitudes and enslave most of their wives. They don't even enslave a significant proportion of their wives. There must be compelling reasons to support this attitude. Free women must be able to fill important roles that slave women cannot fill. The demand for these roles must exceed the demand for slaves.
Publisher. Bryjana Thoredottier
"I am a free woman," she said. "I can speak as I please."
I could not gainsay her in this. She was free. She could, accordingly, say what she wished, and without requiring permission.
Mercenaries of Gor
Dance Show "Mercenaries"
From the Showdancers Sirens of Tyros
On July 1, 22 in the City of Kasra, the excellent show "Mercenaries" from the "Sirens of Tryos" took place.
The dance ensemble consisted of graceful and loveable kajirae, who put on a breathtaking dance show with magnificent sets and costumes.
Enthusiastic audience and thunderous applause was their reward for this great performance.
The show's director, Sir Balrogh, greeted the audience and, between the 3 acts of the dance spectacle, announced that this show was a homage to the great master ennio Moricaonne.
Chororaphy: Macha (zabeya)
On the attached small scrolls you can read the 3 acts of the dance afterwards, or if you were there, review them!!
The Mercenary: Whether he is a Norse, Tribal or Gorean Rarius, whether he is a simple man of low caste who has shown talent for arms or was born on a battlefield, the Mercenary is a warrior who lends his arm to the who can pay him. In a violent world, in constant conflict, where war is a raison d'être and an art of living.
The Mercenary and the Dancer 1/3
The Mercenary and the Dancer 1/3 The mercenary arrived, the dancers looked at him just like the inhabitants, he seemed to come from afar, his Kaiila hammered the sandy road. The slaves were taking a break, the music rising slowly in intensity, he descended from the saddle, and mobilized at the entrance to the village, he took out a watch, its ticking merging with the sound of the musicians. He slipped it into his pocket, and walked forward, pushed open the tavern door, and looked around detailing each person. The dancers stretch out their arms, as if to greet the mercenary, then with a sensual hip movement, they turn gently in a circle. A gambler at the table, collects his winnings, and tints the silver coins. He takes a large cigar from his pocket, and puts it to his lips, then approaches the man at the table, rising. The slaves jump on the stage to the accelerating rhythm of the instruments rising in intensity, they fall back with agility and balance, in cadence and change of rhythm, in a series of furious small steps. The mercenary takes the man by the collar of his shirt, encircling him around his hand, with a brutal gesture, the panicked player looks all around him trying to escape his face. A man looks out of the tavern window, which the rain has covered with fine droplets and wipes it with the back of his forearm. The slaves are frightened, they redouble their smiles, captivating the watching crowd and blowing kisses, then in a rotation of a quarter turn, bend their backs, arching, showing their generous curves. Then, he lets go of the trembling man who rushes out of the tavern. Footsteps are heard above the dancers on the creaking wooden floor. They look up bowing their heads, under a thin neck, swinging their hair, The mercenary climbs each step of the steps with precision, his impassive face, he seems to be looking for his Prey. The man who was watching, enters the tavern, and stands watching the slaves, his hands behind his back, holding a thick rope at least two meters in length ending in a loop and a sliding knot, the hangman's rope ! The dancers advance on the stage, as if seeking to point out a fact and slap the floor loudly. Captivating and magnetic, they once again embark on a torrid dance. The mercenary enters the room, a kajira comes out of the bath and hides her surprised chest. The man gets up from the bed and draws a thin bladed sword, which was on his left, tries to aim at the intruder and misses. The mercenary, he takes out a dagger and wounds the man, then drags him into the tavern in the middle of the crowd, looking at the man with the rope, he says to him ''He is yours, one of the brothers whom you have paid.'' The graceful dancers preserve the atmosphere of the tavern and provoke the masters to lose interest in the mercenary. Their looks are like a hot ember, their skins slightly orange from the torches framing them. The village official gives the mercenary a full purse, ''the rest later,'' he says. Then the man comes out and gets back on his mount, taking the beast's tether, gives two sharp jerks and slowly moves away from the tavern, which regains its composure. He sees in the distance two riders, galloping out of the village, and by their pursuit, leaving a red cloud, from the path, spinning and resting on the ground. The mercenary seems angry, and throws his cigar, he sees the body of a woman struggling and carried away by one of the men he wants.The kidnapped girl is a wonderful, exotic Kajira. A natural beauty and a dancer of quality. The mercenary is not marble, but his mission is to be fulfilled, he has his idea. The kidnappers go into a fairly large cave and pull the woman by the hair who screams, she was still little, two years ago, a beautiful lady, from the blue caste. The mercenary had seen her dancing once, there is six months, on stage with her chain sisters. He remembers her fruity scent, in the crook of her neck, when he had snatched a kiss from her, at the corner of a street and left, crumpling his Camisk angrily, she didn't want to be late for her stains. Night fell quietly, he settled down watching the cave, to intervene at the appropriate time. Slave dancers hanging around in a trailer not far away also saw the men they knew well, but were silent. They were gypsies and each season landed not far from the cave. Sometimes, in the summer, the kidnappers came to join them around a big fire and drank, danced, the girls after a delicious flamenco, ended up in their arms, devour with fiery caresses. The mercenary crept into the cave softly and unsheathed his bow aimed in the men's faces, his mission was accomplished. He was paid graciously, returned the girl, then the following night kidnapped her for himself, no one knew nothing since she is his dancing slave. the Dancer
The Mercenary and the Dancer 2/3
The Mercenary and the Dancer 2/3 He had brought the exotic Kajira back to a city far away from the turmoil he had sown behind him. He had been well paid two panniers full, of coins on his Kaiila, beating on each side of the beast, he looked at me, turning his head a little then said these words ''would you like to get down and put away our meager luggage, here is where you will serve me! I got to know him over the days, I ended up finding a smile by his side and taking pleasure in taking care of my Master, everything seemed peaceful, maybe too much, no doubt... 'Call me your Master'' he whispered to me, at the same time he had just arrived, he recognized him too, then they locked themselves in the next room, a long conversation ensued. When he came out, he ''went away, holding his hat in his hands, and seemed pleased with his visit. My landlord looked at me, ''pack our bags we're leaving!'' The past always catches up with us eventually, he couldn't live here anymore, and a mission awaited him, the outlaws continued to threaten, we had to find those still alive.They said he was at the gates of the Taharie. A hand later, we were not far away, the heat was stifling, I recognized in the distance the Gypsies' trailer, which had also landed there by chance on the roads. I went to greet them. My owner took the opportunity to ride his Kaiila and go finish his mission, he looked at me one last time, I called him to stay, and disappeared. Furious against fate, I returned to my Master's house with clenched fists, then melancholy invaded my body, I put on music, and launched myself into a dance of passion, to express and let flow all that was in me and had to to go out. I raised my arms in a halo, in a perfect curve, arching my legs with elegance, and did a few side jumps, on tiptoe from my toes. Then in a swing of the arms and a propulsion of the thighs, I made two quick jumps, in the air, and fell back to the ground, in perfect symmetry, and balance. When my anger expressed itself, fear came to replace it, my gestures were wavy, in arabesques following each other, my hands on my face, encircling it, stroking it, swinging my bust from right to left, my eyes letting a tear like a silver pearl, which I pluck with the tips of my slender fingers and put in my mouth. Then I realized, that I had to do something even if I would be punished. Preparing some business, I left to join the ''gypsies'' and explain my confusion to them. ''Come little one, come in, your Master, we have helped many times, that we were attacked ourselves, we are going to help you ''said the one who led the family to me. In the evening at the guitar, we danced, after having prepared our plan. A gentle dance of the slave to his Master, I say to him as if he were before me all my devotion, murmuring these words: ''What would I do without you my Master, my life is in your hands, without you I am no more. Cause I can't get enough I can feel this fire burning, for you, my owner. Let me express what makes me shudder when you approach me, when our lips meet, my caresses have awakened your body, and let your mind wander into my feminine curves. I'll be yours, I'll be yours again, Forget the world for a while, I'll go get you, even if I have to die for you'' Then the slave dancers slowly fall to the ground, with infinite softness and grace, without noise, moving her audience. While in the sky the three moons begin their reign. During his time, his owner slowly prepared, his mission. At daybreak, he returns to the terrace of a small cabin, serving a few drinks, before the start of the gates of the long desert. His cigar at the edge of his lips, he waits and sees the two men arrive whom he must make pass away, he gently lowers his hat over his faded eyes. The gypsies, we also took the road, from the doors of the desert, towards the last travelers, they will dance this evening, and pass to present their show, which is always awaited in this region where only the wind resounds, carrying the sandstorm . ''I'm here, in the caravan, I'm watching it through the small window, covered with colored curtains. We hear the ticking of a clock in the distance, it's time, where everything is going to be decided, I smile, I am ready! listen to more.... the passionate dancer
The Mercenary and the Dancer 3/3
The Mercenary and the Dancer 3/3 The men stare at each other a little, then take their places on another table, seeing the silence of the desert, where only sometimes the cry of birds of prey can be heard like an echo. The dancers, look at the mercenary, they swing their hips in the music begins. Listen to the rest, and encourage them. The exotic Kajira in the nearby trailer, crumples her camisk a bit and gets out of the trailer. The gypsies clearly see his distress, one of them takes a musical instrument and sets off towards the mercenary, a voice rises and the dancers begin to dance towards the men. Then the mercenary removes the cigar from his mouth, raising his hat slightly, this time they look at those they must kill. ''I came to get you'' he said in a firm and calm tone. One of them turns around his hand holding the edge of the wooden chair, he has just recognized the mercenary, and signals to his colleague, with a symbol of the hand, code between them, certainly. Then, the cry of the birds of prey ceases suddenly, as if hypnotized also by the scene taking place, the dancers, graceful, stretch their bodies in fine arabesques, like a bow that one regulates, before the attack. They take small steps sliding on the ground in rhythm, sometimes standing or on the ground, their smile illuminating their face. Clenching their fist when she pulses on their toes, they are simply beautiful. We hear the sound of hooves coming from afar, which seems to awaken the heavy atmosphere of the men observing each other. Pulled out the bow would take far too long, the hands are sweaty, the eyes sparkling, the features of their faces seem to stop moving, who will make the first gesture.The exotic kajira knows her decision and taking a fine blade from the trailer, goes to join the masters, with a sure step, and determine. The mercenary approaches the chief, and circles around him slowly, the ticking again a watch is heard the one who opened it and placed it on the table. The dancers accelerating their movements, with a feline step, also move towards the masters, the outcome of the final which will not be long in coming. The gypsies follow, and owe the mercenary a debt, one of them begins to sing. But the exotic kajira rushes accelerating, the final, and begins to shout ''my Master no!'' surprised he sees her coming to her, and says to her in a dry tone ''stay where you are'', she brings her hands to her face from where a tear like a dancing pearl, begins to join her fleshy red lips so posing. The leader of the gypsies makes a sign to her troop. The music of the clock stops; the mercenary takes out a knife with black leather handles and comes to kill one of the bandits. The other rushes at him, but the gypsies begin to dance around them and close the circle. The exotic Kajira rushes to the center, and shoves the second who wobbles. the dancers bend in grace, revolving struggling for all to end well. But she feels helpless and falls to the ground sometimes heavily, and begins to beg, wrapping their arms around their breasts. Then seeing her that her Master won't be able to do anything, the exotic girl pulls out her long blade and finishes off the bandit. This is how everyone dances a few moons later, laughing, and the little one can give all her devotion, and is happy against her owner. The dancers stop their dances and thank the spectators, while the birds of prey resume their heart-rending cries as night falls. The exotic Kajira rushes to the center, and shoves the second who wobbles. the dancers bend in grace, revolving struggling for all to end well. But she feels helpless and falls to the ground sometimes heavily, and begins to beg, wrapping their arms around their breasts. Then seeing her that her Master won't be able to do anything, the exotic girl pulls out her long blade and finishes off the bandit. This is how everyone dances a few moons later, laughing, and the little one can give all her devotion, and is happy against her owner. The dancers stop their dances and thank the spectators, while the birds of prey resume their heart-rending cries as night falls. the exotic Kajira of the mercenary ''Masha''