Archive for July 15th, 2014

GRUEL IS CRUEL – A New Recipe is born

Tuesday, July 15th, 2014

panther en

Picture: Gorean Panther En

GRUEL IS CRUEL ~ A New Recipe is born

By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni

My Master was away for a day and after I finished my chores in the house I looked around for something to eat. I was so busy fixing snacks for my Master to take on his short trip that I neglected to eat my first meal of the day. I had an unpleasant feeling of shakiness and a small headache from the lack of food. As I looked around the house I found a half eaten piece of bread that had seen better days. I did not fancy eating moldy Sa-Tarna bread and I chucked it out in the street for the birds to peck at. I was getting mighty hungry. There was no coin in the house either to purchase something at the market stalls. I thought about asking the baker to put some fresh bread on my Master’s account but he has been put out with me since I poked my finger inside a cream cake on his shelf. I just wanted to taste it but, I was caught. He told me not to come back any time soon.

I thought maybe I would go to the vegetable merchant and ask him for a few suls and put the cost on my Master’s account but, the last time I went there to buy vegetables, the merchant and I had a heated argument and to spite him, I rubbed a sul in my butt crack, put it back in his display, and thumbed my nose at him. He chased me but, he is an enormous man and I out distanced him and got away. He should eat more of the vegetables he sells. Maybe he could then win a foot race with me.

I was going to have to go to where the food was plentiful, albeit, distasteful. Yes my friends, I went to the city kennel. It was there that I met the slaver of Port Olni, Master Tuor, a Tuchuck. Our slaver is a very kind man and the girls that come in for processing and training are well treated.

As all of Gor knows, the food that is commonly given slaves is a gruel consisting of Sa-Tarna meal mixed with water. This is a cheap but life sustaining repast. Before one ingests this substance, you find yourself asking, do I live to eat or do I eat to live? Slave gruel is definitely something that you eat in order to live. And so you eat it to ward off death.

And so I begged the Master Tuor to go to the kennel kitchen and get some Sa-Tarna meal. He was most accommodating and said I could have half a sack if I wanted it. I took a sack that was open and about 1/3 full. I thanked him profusely and went home. At the house I put the sack on the counter and peered in at the substance. It was yellow and coarse similar to the cornmeal I had known on Earth. First I tried mixing a half of a cup with water and heating it up in a pan. The smell that came from it was not appetizing and even with my great hunger, I threw it out into the street for the birds to peck at.

I looked around the kitchen and remembered a pitcher of bosk milk that had soured but had not been thrown out yet. So I took two cups of the soured milk, three cups of Sa-Tarna meal, and some baking soda and salt and mixed them in a bowl. It started to look more like a cake batter. I tasted the mixture and realized it was missing something. The missing ingredient could be obtained for free. I ran out the door and through the Olni Var gate to the Olni Var park. It is there that our Ubar keeps his bee hives. A low table is set up with pots of honey and a barrel full of honey. The Ubar encourages the residents to partake freely of his honey and so I took a pot of it home.

I mixed half a pot of honey into the batter and tasted it. By this time my hunger was so great that I was sampling the honey to keep from having the low sugar shakes. I took some butter from the counter and slathered the inside of the baking pan.

I poured the batter into the pan, covered it, and shoved it in the hearth, covering it with coals. I waited, sucking the honey off my fingers for about 20 ehn. I uncovered the pan and inside was a pretty good replica of the earth starch, corn bread. I cut a huge piece out of it and started gobbling it with honey.

I wound up eating the whole pan and suffered from the results of my gluttony afterward. I slept the rest of the day like an ost who just swallowed a large urt.

I was thinking of writing on a scroll my recipe for this “gruel on steroids” and passing it on to the cook at the House of Spiritweaver city kennel. I think it would even be better with a couple of vuolo eggs in the batter.

I heard a knock on the door much later and the next door neighbor wanted to know if I was throwing food out into the streets to attract urts. She made me clean it up.

From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 166

ASK TEAL – Dubious Advice to Goreans

Tuesday, July 15th, 2014

Naath

Picture: Working in the fields – City of Naath

ASK TEAL ~ Dubious Advice to Goreans

By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni

DEAR TEAL:
I am a free woman who is desperate to find a companion. I see free men everywhere in my city, they are either with companions or walking with a retinue of slaves behind them. In other words, they are most unapproachable. I have been courted by some five men in the past but after a few weeks, they disappear from my life and if I see them in the commons or the market place, they turn the other way or cross to the other side of the street to avoid me. Will I ever find one? Where are all the men? Please advise.

DEAR FLYING SOLO:
By the three moons, there must be an epidemic on Gor. Yours is the third scroll I have received this week written about the same dilemma. You give me little to go on. I would need more information to give you the sound advice I am used to dispensing in The Voice of Gor. (coughs) For instance, how mature are you, when was your last bath, do you use mouth wash, are your clothes freshly laundered, do you pick your teeth in public. These may all be clues as to why men flee from your side. Since I have a dearth of answers to the aforementioned I will now impart a primer on dating for free women. Maybe after taking these admonitions to heart you will find the free companion of your dreams.

If your hygiene is not lacking and your robes of concealment cover your natural assets demurely, then I would look to behaviors that could be the “kiss of death” to a budding relationship.

Here are some red flags that a prospective mate will not find appealing in a date. First off, do not make sentimental appeals to his emotions. Don’t expect him to say things he is not comfortable revealing. He may not want to tell you of the last man he ran through with his blade or the paga slut he used last night. You might be moved to tears. And generally speaking, men prefer not to see a woman in tears, especially in public. And, you will be in public during your courtship. Think of HIS discomfort when you starting weeping openly in the commons.

Next on the list, and these are not in order of importance as they are ALL important, when in the presence of a free man, alighting on a cushion or chair, for the sake of the Priest-Kings, do it with a little grace. Do not assume awkward positions. A lady in robes of concealment should not sit with her knees up, spread apart, letting her gown settle in between her legs. You are not at the physicians office getting a gynecological examination. Now this rule is thrown out the window when in the privacy of your own quarters away from judgmental eyes. In that instance you may behave in the sluttiest of attitudes.

In the same vein as your body deportment, the movement of your mouth should be considered. If your intended and you share a meal, chew your food and keep your lips closed while doing so. Do not bolt it down like a tarn tearing apart a tabuk. This should not be too hard, as all women, at some point in their lives, have to learn to use their mouth and lips in pleasing ways. Also, a woman must cultivate a clear speaking voice. They must learn to laugh charmingly. They must learn to move their lips to express desire for the man. They must also learn to hold their tongues when tempted to tell the man that he smells like a rotted old corpse of a dead sleen if in fact she is trying to court his favor.

To please a man, think of watching your mother making a cake. She would be using all sorts of delightful ingredients. You would be watching her deft movements and imagine the delights of the soon to be present, cake. In that way you have learned cake making. And so it is that you could learn to please a free man, from observing those who are already doing so. Slaves learn this early on so it would behoove a free woman to learn from the observations of how good slaves treat their Masters, which is the least painful method of learning. Or, you could take years learning by trial and error, making corrections to your “How to Please a Free Man” recipe. These minor corrections to the recipe, which take place every time you have tasted a too bitter or a too sweet or a too salty concoction, can lead to the constant heart break of losing some very expensive cake ingredients because you have not treated them right. It can be compared to coming to the new love interest with a pantry of separate experiences that you could not meld into one pleasing mix. This is maybe the main reason why you have not succeeded in keeping a male in your life. It could also explain why you could be a terrible baker. But, that of course is pure supposition on my part.

Another salient point is this, be interested in what the male is saying. I am not telling you to appear interested, I am saying “BE INTERESTED”. You may say, “But, he is a boring person. How can I find what he says of interest?” I am here to say, if you find little of interest in what he says, you are with the wrong man. You had best get out of that relationship sooner than later. Find a man you are interested in. Looks fade but the intellect, if not marred by accident and disease, lasts to the end of life. One should pick brains over looks any day of the week. Although a cute smile couldn’t hurt.

The answer to your question of where are all the men and how can you get and keep one is turning into a novella of sorts. The answers to your question are long and intricate. I must say that writing about them is going to take a few more publications of this news scroll, The Voice of Gor. I would like to finish your answer this week but my Master is giving me the evil eye because I have occupied his desk in the study for too long. He permits me to write this column as long as I am not using his desk while he is home. He is motioning for me to assume the position of a pleasure slave. Uh oh, he is tapping his foot. Never fear, true to my purpose of supplying questionable advice, I will finish your answer on next week’s scroll.

From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 167

UNEASY LIES THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN – Slavery Revisited

Tuesday, July 15th, 2014

city of Naath

Picture: The new Tharna

UNEASY LIES THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN – Slavery Revisited

By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni

My Master, being the Gorean male that he is, studies the scrolls of Gor’s historian, Master John Norman. I am commanded by him to study those same scrolls. My Master actually, should have been born into the Magistrates caste since he has an exacting air about him. He is, though, a brave warrior who has sent many enemies to their deaths. Woe to this slave when she does not please her Master. He will come down on my “little pipe dream” that I am lost in and wake me the hell up.

So I study the scrolls. And as I do, I am flooded with some misgivings about my “career” as a slave. The Historian lays it on the line for me. I am an animal. I am a creature without rights whose total objective in life is to work and serve the free pleasingly. This is a sobering fact for me as it most likely has been for other slaves.

Animals are bought and sold everyday. It seems that not one of these animals, who are bought and sold, have stood up and said that they refused to be sold.

Goreans are fond of naming their livestock. And so when they acquire the slave of another, who may come with the name of, let us say, “Rina”, the next owner changes the name of the animal to suit his ear. He may call the beast, “Bina” or “Gertrude”, it matters not and the slut must speak her new name when asked for it.

Slaves are given away as gifts on many occasions. When a slave is put on the auction block, she finds out very quickly that she is a performing animal. She is prodded into positions that only my physician on Earth would be privy to. Yet, there can be no embarrassment. The slave must exhibit well to fetch a high price. Goreans, who sell other types of livestock, make sure to brush the burrs out of the hair of their beasts to make them more appealing to a prospective buyer. But alas, some slaves are delivered to the auction block “en deshabille” and their prices can plummet.

But, back to the fact that slaves can be given away as gifts. Many people feel most generous around Se’Var or the winter solstice. I am not sure why that is but, I see a lot of gift giving during this period of the calendar than at any other time. At the solstice, when I am serving in the commons, I will notice the disappearance of slaves that I have been accustomed to serving alongside. It could be that they were given as gifts to their Master or Mistresses friend. I also witness. In that same commons, slaves who suddenly appear with another name. As disconcerting as that is, that same slave will scowl at you when you try to call her the old name. I would really hate to be given away as a gift to someone. And, it is a possibility. A factoid that my Master makes sure I am cognizant of.

I look back on this scroll, and though I have only written a small sample about the concept of slavery. What I already know about slavery gave me cause to pause in the commons the other day. There was a very pleasant, if somewhat preoccupied, Master sitting at a table. He was accompanied by two kajira. The three of them sat in silence. I wondered if the Master required me since there was no other slave in the commons at the time.

I approached the Master to ask if he needed service. His kajira both sneered at me. The Master thanked me and indicated that the sluts at his feet would see to his needs.

And so I arose and went back to sweeping. As I passed them, one of his slaves hissed at me. What she said made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I then looked at the pair of them with different eyes. Instead of two silk clad kajira, there appeared, in my mind’s eye, two “wanna be” free women dressed in royal purple. On their craniums they wore crowns imbedded with semiprecious stones. I had to shake my head so that my vision returned to what was reality. I went back to my sweeping.

I have this really nice broom and I like to use it. Sometimes, when no one is around, I practice wielding it as a weapon. Thank goodness, slaves are allowed to beat back the enemy. Although, all we can use are rolling pins, brooms and pans. No range weapons. The Ubara calls my janitorial equipment, the “broom of doom”. That has a nice ring to it.

I have been researching the Historian’s scrolls for any mention of slaves wearing silks before dusk. So far I have not found any prohibition on the matter. But, it should be a law. I’m just sayin’.

From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 165

ASK TEAL – Dubious advice to Goreans

Tuesday, July 15th, 2014

city of Naath

Picture: The new Tharna

ASK TEAL ~ Dubious advice to Goreans

By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni

DEAR TEAL:
I am a free woman.  I recently travelled to another city to visit a friend.  My friend is also a free woman.  She has a male slave.  Her slave is quite attractive.  I found myself wanting to get in the furs with this slave and so I asked my friend if I could use him.  She looked at me in shock and said, “Certainly NOT, and besides in this city the Couching Laws are in effect.”  I just nodded and changed the subject.  Truth is, I do not know what the “Couching Laws” are.  I am too embarrassed to ask anyone here in my city.  Could you give me the information on these “Laws”?
 
DEAR FAILURE TO “HIT” THE LAW BOOKS:
Oh I am right there with you on that one.  It is awkward to not be aware of the laws of a city.  And, I have heard it said that ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking it.  I have never advised a free woman or slave on this subject and so I myself, “hit the books” in the great library of Port Olni to do some research on your question.
 
At first I thought it was a group of laws,  you know like two or more people sitting on a couch?  I started to think in the direction of sofa’s, settee’s, living room suite’s, big comfy chairs.  Then my musings took me to psychiatric couches where some of us wind up when we have enough money to pay Master Freud or Master Jung to help us come to grips with the planet. 
 
After a couple of afternoons of sneezing from the dust, hauling scrolls off the shelves of the library, I found your answer.  In the simplest of explanations here is the Couching Law that some cities adhere to. 
 
A free woman, if she owns a slave, may take him or her to the furs.  After all, that slave is the property of the free woman and she should be accorded the total use, display, and punishment (if needed) of that property.  A free woman must be discrete in her use of her slave for those reasons.  In other words, you can’t make a public display of sexual congress in the commons area, the front gates, or the arena.  Heaven forbid that a free woman would lower herself to make use of a slave at the front gate.  Yes, it would be acceptable for a free woman to take her slave to the furs in her own domicile away from prying eyes.
 
Now, the Couching Laws state that a free woman may not take to her furs, the slave of another.  It would be an unwise choice and dangerous.
 
I have here, copied onto this scroll, a quote from the Couching Laws of Port Olni.
“Any free woman who couches with another’s slave, or readies herself to couch with another’s slave, becomes herself a slave, and the slave of the slave’s Master.”
 
I think the law speaks for itself.  It would be advantageous to curb your sexual appetites and save them for a free man.  Now, if that is not possible….well it just has to be possible or your friends will soon see you naked, whipped, and collared.

DEAR TEAL:
I am a free man. My companion and I have just moved to another city. This new city is much nearer the caravan trade routes and allows me to buy merchandise for my stall much more cheaply. My companion and I were both born in the city which we just left. We have a fondness for the city of our birth. When we left we packed our flag which has the city crest on it. In our new city we are fond of flying this insignia over the stall where we sell goods in the market place. I was asked by the landlord of the stall rentals, to take down the ensign of my old city.
He said we lived in the town of “Ramberry” and he felt it was disrespectful to display the ensign of another city in the market stalls of “Ramberry”.

I am really irked by this man. I told him, “Perhaps I will, Sir and perhaps my Mother will turn into an ost next waiting hand.” I know I have to give him an answer as he is harassing us. What should I do so as not to cause a war between the two cities over my need to fly this banner?

DEAR STARTER OF WORLD WAR 3:
Hmmmm…I think I have seen your stall in “Ramberry”, the last time I was there. You sell a lot of glittery things, right? You know, nothing says “love” like receiving a present that glitters. It seems the more “love” you want to express to the recipient the more glittery the gift has to be. I remember my Master stopping by that stall. He purchased a small perfume amphora. The glass was exquisite, delicate, glittery. I hoped he was buying it for me but alas he bought it for the Ubara. He said she deserved nice things more than me. He could be right.

But I digress. Yes…I saw that flag waving in the beautiful breezes of En’var. The flags colors were brilliant against the sky. You should be proud of your former ensign. Now about the Keeper of the Stall Rents, if he is not satisfied you will continue to be accosted by him.

To avoid these frequent confrontations…you could use this flag debacle as a “marketing moment”. I would be a liar, and woe betides the slave who lies, if I told you my Master and I were not attracted to the colorful flag flown from your stall. It is a fabulous way to generate interest in your stall and its contents. I noticed that not one of the other stalls flew a banner.

I am sure, that in the market, there are diverse populations of shopkeepers, not all of whom were born in “Ramberry”. You might suggest to the Keeper of Rents that he permit all stall owners to fly the flags of the cities they are now or formerly from. Have them place a professional and tasteful display of his or her flags on their stalls. It would be surprising to learn that maybe the stall owner next to you from your old city.

This would be a civil way of solving this predicament. The market could sport a more cosmopolitan look. Also the citizens of your old city would be more apt to shop at a stall that was flying the banner of their city.

Once again, a win win situation. By the way, do you have any more of those perfume amphora? I am pestering my Master to buy me one.

From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 164