15Rogue

~Rogue of Gor~
Written by John Norman
(Copyright by John Norman, 1981)
(Star Book, published by W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd)

~Back Cover~
Jason Marshall learned the meaning of manhood and the power of women, both dominant and submissive, when he was kidnapped from Earth to the Counter-Earth called Gor. Winning his freedom, Jason set out single-handed to win his own place on that gloriously barbaric world on the other side of the sun.
His intent was to find the girl who had been enslaved with him. But that quest thrust him smack in the middle of the war that raged between Imperial Ar and the Salerian Confederation - and the secret schemes of the pirate armada that sought control of the mighty trading artery of the fighting cities

~Inside~
Sometimes I almost despaired of finding Miss Beverly Henderson. How could one hope to find one girl among thousands, even tens of thousands, scattered throughout the cities and towns, the fields and villages, of Gor. Too, if she had been transported by caravan or tarn she might, by now, be almost anywhere. Yet I was determined to continue my search.
I had two things clearly in my favor. I knew she had been taken recently, and by Kilomenes, the river pirate. My search was thus far from hopeless. Indeed, I had little doubt but what I might find Miss Henderson, if I could but find in what market, or markets, Kilomenes would see fit to dispose of his most recent prizes.

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~Quotations from the book, Rogue of Gor~

"The girl was naked, save that she wore many strings of jewels and armlets. Too she wore bracelets and anklets of gold, which had been locked upon her, and were belled. Her collar, too, was of gold, and belled. She was blond and it was said she was from Earth. A single pearl, fastened in a setting like a droplet, one tiny golden chain, was suspended at the center of her forehead."
~Rogue of Gor, pages 10 & 11~

“Please, Master,” whispered the girl to me. She extended her small hand, still dancing, as though to touch me. On her wrist was a golden bracelet, belled. I saw the small lock, with its key socket, on the bracelet. She could not remove it.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 12~

“There was Gorean applause in the room, the striking of the right palm on the left shoulder.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 13~

I rose to my feet and placed two copper tarsks on the table.
I went to the girl and, with the side of my foot, kicked her, 'Get to the alcove,' I told her.

'Yes, Master,' she said, and scrambled up, hurrying with a rustle of jewelry and bells to a leather-curtained alcove.
There was more Gorean applause as I followed her and, turning, from the inside, drew shut the curtains of the alcove. When I had buckled them shut from the inside I turned to face the girl.
She knelt in the position of the pleasure slave, back in the alcove, on the scarlet furs, in the light of the small lamp. I looked about. There were some chains in the alcove, and a coil of rope, and a whip.
"If Master desires special equipment," she said, "it will be provided by Busebius."
"There is more then enough here to tame you," I said.
~Rogue of Gor, page 13~

'The men of Gor,' I said, 'say that the women of earth are natural slaves. Is it true?'
'Yes, Master,' she said. 'I, and the other girls on my chain, swiftly learned that we were natural slaves.'
'How was this information received by them?' I asked.
'Generally at first with chagrin and shame," she said, 'then with helpless resignation, objective recognition and sober acceptance, and then with a liberating and unspeakable joy.
~Rogue of Gor, page 14~

"Did you not see how I danced before you?" she asked
"Yes," I said.
"You excite me, Master," she said. "Does that horrify you? Does that scandalize you? Does it startle and discomfort you, does it so dismay you, does it seem so hard to comprehend, that a woman from Earth could be sexually excited, that she could have sexual desires, that she could feel helpless and frustrating passion, that she could beg even to be sexually satisfied?"
"It is not typical," I said. "And it is not permitted."
"It is typical!" she said. "How little you know of women! And on Gor it is permitted--to slaves!"
I did not speak.
"On Gor," she said, "I have experienced feelings and sensations I never knew could exist. Inhibitions have been shattered, some of them commanded from me by strong men and the blows of the whip, I have learned to live and to feel. My emotions have been freed. My deepest sexuality and nature have on this world at last been fully liberated. I have found myself. I love and I serve. I now know at last what and who I am, a love slave for uncompromising masters."
~Rogue of Gor, page 18~

"I lowered her to the furs. I began to kiss at her body. "No," I said. Soon she began to gasp and sob in my arms. Then she began to writhe. Then she screamed in the alcove and then, shuddering, shaking, was held in my arms.   "Am I not a natural slave?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "you are." There had been no mistaking the nature of her movements, her reflexes. They were clearly those of a natural slave. These things troubled me. She lay back.
"And I am a woman of Earth," she said.   "You are not typical," I told her. "I am typical," she said.   I looked down at her. "What are you thinking?" she asked. "I was thinking," I said, regarding the girl, "that the men of Earth, if they could but see an Earth woman as you are now, would scream with pleasure."
"We are waiting for our masters," she smiled.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 19~

“I listened to the musicians outside of the alcove, the sounds of the tavern. When one brings a girl to an alcove one may keep her there for most practical purposes for as long as one wishes. She is yours, for most practical purposes, until one chooses to re-open the curtains. After the tavern is closed an attendant will let you out and, taking charge of the girl, see that she is properly chained at her ring by the girl-wall or kenneled.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 19 & 20~

"How long have you known you were a slave?"I asked.
"Since I was a young girl," she said. "I first discovered it in my thought and dreams, and feelings, and fantasies. But I thought I could never be more than a secret slave at the mercy of a secret master. Then I was brought to Gor. Here I wear my collar openly and kneel before my masters for all the world to see."
~Rogue of Gor, page 20~

“She was then conducted to the small side door, through which the attendant had emerged. Beyond it, I gathered, would lie such things as the kitchens, the offices, the cellars and pantries, the storage rooms, the dressing rooms, the discipline chamber and the kennels.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 22~

“Then she brushed a kiss to me with the tips of her fingers in the Gorean fashion.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 22~

"The pleasure rack is an interesting device," I said. I examined the wooden wheels, the levers. In virtue of the axes of the device and the various gears and pinions, and the joints, braces, fitted, sliding boards, notches and lock points, it can be adjusted to a variety of positions. To be sure not all the pleasure racks were as sophisticated as that on which was bound my former Mistress, the former female slaver, the Lady Tima of Vonda."
~Rogue of Gor, page 27~

"It is not so improbable but what men might wish to take your whip from you and throw you down, and teach you what it is to be a woman."
"I wanted them to do so," she said. "I wanted them to make me a woman."
"You are a woman," I told her. "Dare to be it."
"No!" she said. "It means surrender to men!"
"Of course," I told her.
"I do not have the feelings of normal women!" she said.
"Perhaps it is only that you are afraid to have them," I said.
"No, no!" she said.
"Then have them," I said.
"No!" she said. "The Lady Gina will never be a submitted slave!"
~Rogue of Gor, page 30~

"You yielded well, Lady Gina," I said.
"I would never have believed I could have such feelings," she said. "I did not know such feelings could exist."
"Surely you have seen writhing, screaming slave girls?" I asked.
"Yes,' she said, "but not until moments ago did I have more than an inkling of what they might be feeling." She smiled. "It is no wonder the luscious little sluts are so fond of their collars."
~Rogue of Gor, page 33~

"Is it such a terrible thing to be a woman?" I asked.
"Yes, yes!" she said.
"No," I said, "it is not terrible. It is deeply and profoundly marvelous."
She trembled.
"Take your place in the order of nature," I said.
"At the feet of men!" she said.
"It is where you belong," I said.
She began to shudder at my side. "I begin to feel such emotions, such feelings," she said. "They frighten me. They threaten to overwhelm me."
"It is uncontrollable. It is like a storm," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"Yield to them," I said.
~Rogue of Gor, page 31~

“Many Gorean women, in their haughtiness and pride, do not choose to have their features exposed to the common view. They are too fine and noble to be looked upon by the casual rabble. Similarly the robes of concealment worn by many Gorean women are doubtless dictated by the same sentiments. On the other hand veiling is a not impractical modesty in a culture in where capture, and the chain and the whip are not unknown. One justification for the veiling and for the robes of concealment, which is not regarded as inconsiderable, is that it is supposed to provide something of a protection against abduction and predation. Who would wish to risk his life, it is said, to carry off a woman who might, when roped to a tree and stripped, turn out to be as ugly as a tharlarion?”
~Rogue of Gor, page 41 & 42~

"They are too profoundly feminine," she said.
"And thus not fit for a proud free woman?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"But suitable perhaps for a collared slave?" I said.
"Yes," she smiled. "Such a woman is permitted to be true to herself."
~Rogue of Gor, page 53~

"Paga!" called the standing man. "Paga!" A blonde girl, nude, with a string of pearls wound about her steel collar, ran to the table and, from the bronze vessel, on its strap, about her shoulder, poured paga into the goblet before the seated man. The fellow who stood by the table, scarcely noticing the girl, placed a tarsk-bit in her mouth, and she fled back to the counter where, under the eye of a paga attendant, she spit the coin into a copper bowl.
~Rogue of Gor, page 77 & 78~

I know of no pleasure comparable to the pleasure of owning a woman, fully. It is indescribably delicious; it is glorious; it fills one with joy and power; it exalts and fulfills the blood. It teaches a male, in the thunderous currency of intellect and emotion, what is the true meaning of manhood. Compared to it, the gratifications of pretense and denial, the insistence on subverting ones blood and virility in the name of a false manhood conditioned by a demented, antibiological society, are pallid indeed. Let those who can climb mountains climb them; let those who cannot climb them console themselves with denying their existence.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 81~

“Our parents….pressed us to intertwine our arms and drink the wine of the companionship.”
~Guardsman of Gor, page 85~

"The loop of the body chain was some five feet in length. It was made to loop the throat of a woman several times, or, by alternative windings, to bedeck her body in a variety of fashions. The chain was not heavy, but, too, it was not light. It had a solid heft in one’s hand. It was closely meshed, and strong. It could be used, if a man wished, and perfectly, for purposes of slave security. It was decorated sensuously with colorful wooden beads, semiprecious stones and bits of leather. Detachable, but now attached to the chain at one point were two sets of clips, one of snap clips and one of lock clips. It is by means of these clips that the chain can be transformed from a simple piece of slave jewelry into a sturdy and effective device of slave restraint."
~Rogue of Gor, page 71 & 72~

"We heard the sound of a bell, and then, a moment later, that of coins in a metal box. The girl in a brown rag, slave, emerged from the shadows. About her neck, chained, there was a bronze bell, hollow, flattish, with sloping sdes, with a flat top and ring, and a slotted, metal coin box, locked. Swiftly she knelt befor eme. She bit at my tunic, and licked at the side of my let. She lifted her head. “Have me for a tarsk bit, Master,” she begged. Her hands were braceleted behind her back."
~Rogue of Gor, page 89~

"I am ready to earn my keep," she said.
"You speak like a slave girl, " I scorned her………
"I wonder if you would make a good slave," I said.
"Enslave me," she said, "and see."
"You are a woman of Earth," I said.
"On this world," she said, "many women of Earth are kept as the total slaves of their masters."
I looked at her.
Suddenly she knelt before me. "Enslave me," she begged "I will make you a good slave."
"Get on your feet," I said, confused. "You are a woman of Earth. Must I teach you, of all people, a little feminist, how to be a true person?"
"This is Gor," she said, "not Earth. Such things are behind me now. I have learned too much."
"Get up," I said.
"On Gor," she said, "I do not need to pretend any longer. Here I do not need to be a political puppet. Here I am free at last to be a woman."
"Get up!" I cried.
"Fulfill my needs, please!" she begged.
"No!" I cried. Then I said, again, "Get up, quickly. You shame me."
She rose to her feet, tears in her eyes. She drew her robe tightly about her. "It is I who have been shamed," she said.
"You have shamed yourself," I said angrily.
"No," she said, "that is not true, Jason. I have been honest to myself. It is you who have shamed me, punishing me for permitting myself this careless honesty. It is my fault, in a sense. You are a man of Earth, still. I should have known better."
"You should not have such needs," I told her.
"I have them," she said.
"Change them," I said.
"I cannot," she said.
"Surely you desire to do so," I said.
"No," she said, "no longer, I love them. They are the deepest part of me."
"You must then, at the least," I said, "pretend that you not have them."
"Why?" she asked.
"I do not know," I said, "perhaps because they do not conform to the values of the glandularly deficient and sexually inert."
"This is not Earth," she said. "Why should I conform to such values?"
"I do not know," I said. "I do not know!"
"Such men and women," she said, "must make virtues of their deficiencies. Otherwise, to their humiliation, they would confess themselves less than others."
"Perhaps," I said. "I do not know."
"Why do you let others, the petty and resentful, the fearful and inadequate, legislate for you in this sphere?"
"I do not know," I said.
"What are their credentials?" she asked.   "Where are their proofs?"
"I do not know," I said.
"Heeding their advice produces misery and frustration, impairments, physical and mental, anxiety, pain, sickness and self-torture. It can even shorten lives. Do these sorts of things seem to you the manifestations of a correct moral position?"
"I do not know," I said.
"Is it only the stupid, and the mutilated and crippled, who are to be accounted healthy?"
"I do not know," I said. "I do not know!"
"I am sorry if I have embarrassed you," she said.
"Go to your room," I said.
"You have refused me as a woman," she said.
"Go to your room, Miss Henderson," I said.
"Of course, Keeper," she said. She turned away from me. She went towards the stairs. At the foot of the stairs, she turned, again, to face me. "I am still prepared to earn my keep," she said.
"You are a woman of Earth," I said. "It is not necessary for a woman of Earth to earn her keep."
"Take me to the market and sell me," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Perhaps a man will buy me," she said.
"I do not deny you your freedom," I said.
"You are refusing me my slavery," she said.
"You are displeasing me," I said.
"Then beat me and rape me," she said, "and put me under discipline."
"Go to your room, Miss Henderson," I warned her.
"And shall I strip and await your pleasure?" she asked.
"No," I told her.
"Clearly," she said, "a girl is safe with you."
I said nothing.
"Do you behave in this fashion with the sluts in the paga taverns?" she asked.
"They are different," I said. "They are slaves." And I added not pleasantly, "And only slaves."
"I see," she said. "I envy the miserable creatures."
"Do not," I said. "You do not know what it is to be a slave."
"I have been a slave," she said.
"You were only a display slave," I said. "You were not a full slave. You do not have the least idea of what it would be to be a full slave."
"Collar me, and teach me," she said.
"You are a woman of Earth," I said. "I have no intention of abusing you."
"I am grateful, Keeper." she said acidly.
~Rogue of Gor, pages 121 – 124~

"And then, suddenly, she screamed, caught fully, helplessly, in the blurred, whistling slash of the five-stranded Gorean slave whip.
Ten strokes did I give her.
Then she hung weeping, shuddering, at the ring. "How can you whip me?" she asked. "You are a man of Earth." I went to her and, by the hair, jerked back her head, and she cried out with pain. "Is this the touch of a man of Earth?" I asked.
"No," she said, frightened.
"Too," I said, whispering in her ear, "you are a new slave who has been brought recently to my house."
"No," she begged. "No!"
Sometimes a girl is whipped when she is first brought into a new house. It is regarded, in some cities, including Victoria, as a way of making clear to her that the house in which she now finds herself is a house in which she is a slave.
Ten strokes more then did I administer to the fair beauty.
"Too," I said, "earlier you dared to speak my name."
"Forgive me Master" she sobbed.
"That has earned you five extra stokes." I informed her.
She moaned, and then was shaken five times, encircled in the burning lashes, being repaid for her insolence.
~Rogue of Gor, pages 129 & 130~

“Lola now returned to the small table and, kneeling head down, served us our desert, slices of tospit, sprinkled with four Gorean sugars.”
~Rogue of Gor, page 132~

“I am a free woman,” she said. “Do you find slaves more interesting than I?”
"Of course," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
"For one thing," I said, "they are owned."
"That makes them fascinating, doesn't it?" she said, bitterly.
"Yes," I said.
"And doubtless," she said, angrily, "they do not have the inhibitions and frigidities of their free sisters!"
"They are not permitted them," I admitted.
~Rogue of Gor, page 151~

“I am no longer who I once was,” he said.
“I gather you once stood high among the guardsmen of Port Cos,” I said.
“Once I was a Captain in Port Cos,” he said. “Indeed it was I who once drove the band of Policrate from the vicinity of Port Cos.” He looked up at me. “But that was long ago.   I no longer remember that captain. I think he is gone now.”
“What occurred?” I asked.
“He grew more fond of paga than of his codes,” he said. “Disgraced, he was dismissed. He came west upon the river, to Victoria.”
“What was his name?” I asked.
“I have forgotten,” he said, sullenly.
………….
He extended his right hand. It was large, but unsteady. It shook.
“At one time,” he said, “I could strike a thousand blows, to the accuracy of a hair, I could thrust a thousand times, within the circle of half a hort, but now--now, see what has become of me.”   His hand, shaking, fell.
~Rogue of Gor, pages 180 & 181~

"I know that you have been disgraced," I said. "I know that the scarlet has been taken from you."
"No one," said he, "can take the scarlet from me, once it is granted, unless it be by the sword."
He tore open the tunic he wore, revealing beneath it, dark, blackish in appearance, in the moonlight, the scarlet.
"This," said he, "can be taken from me only by the sword. Let him dare to do so who will."
"You are finished," I said. "Drink."
He looked dismally, angrily, at the bottle clutched in his right hand.
"You have forgotten the name of the warrior," I said, "who was once of Port Cos. He is no more. Drink."
The man then held the bottle near the neck, with both hands. For a long moment he looked at it. His shoulders then hunched forward, and he moaned in pain. Then, slowly, he straightened his body. He lifted his head to the Gorean moons and, in the dark street, in anguish uttered a wild cry. It began as a cry of anguish, and pain, and ended as a howl of rage. He turned about and, with two hands, broke the bottle suddenly into a thousand fragments against the stone. In the darkness he was cut with glass and soiled with scattered paga.
"I remember him," he said.
"What was his name?" I asked.
"Callimachus," he said. "His name is Callimachus, of Port Cos."
"Is he gone?" I asked.
Then the man, with two fists, struck against the wall. "No," he said, with a terrible ferocity. There was blood on his hands, dark, running between the fingers.
"Where is he?" I asked.
Slowly the man turned to face me. "He is here," he said. "I am he."
"I am pleased to hear it," I said. I reached down and picked up the fallen blade. I handed it to him. "This," I said, is yours."
~Rogue of Gor, page 182~

Goreans place few impediments in the way of the liberation of a slave female's sexuality. In this phase of the dance, then, shamelessly the woman dances her need and, shamelessly, begs for her sexual satisfaction. This phase of the dance is sometimes known as the Heat of the Collared She-Sleen. The fifth and final phase of the dance, is far more dramatic and exciting. In this phase, the girl, overcome by sexual desire and terrified that she may not be found sufficiently pleasing, clearly manifests, and utterly, that she is a slave female…..This portion of the dance, the fifth portion, is sometimes known as the Heat of the Slave Girl.
~Rogue of Gor, page 186~

"A new dancer came forth upon the floor and began, a tall brute near her with the leather, to perform a whip dance.
"Wine, Master?" asked a red-headed girl with two leather straps wound about her body. I took wine from her, and gave my attention then to the dancer, a luscious, dark-haired girl. In the whip dance, though there are various versions of it, depending on the locality, the girl is almost never struck with the whip, unless of course, she does not perform well. When the whip is cracked, however, the girl will commonly react as though she has been struck. This, conjoined with the music, and her beauty, and the obvious symbolism of her beauty beneath total male discipline, can be extremely, powerfully erotic. In an elegant, civilized context, one of beauty and music, it makes clear and bespeaks the raw and essential primitives of the ancient genetic, biological sexual relationship of men and women, the theme of dominance and submission, that man is master by blood and women is slave by birth. Neither too, as say the Goreans, will know their fulfillment until they become true to themselves. We can be conquered, but nature cannot. In attempting to conquer nature, we defeat only ourselves. True freedom and happiness, perhaps, lies not in denying and repudiating our nature but in fulfilling it.
………..The whip dance continued before us.
……….The whip dance was now approaching its climax.
………I turned my attention to the dancer on the floor. She lay now on her back, one knee lifted, her arms at her sides, palms down, before the brute with his whip, who towered over her. Her head, too, was turned to the side. Then she turned her head to face the brute who tyrannized her. She looked deeply into his eyes. Then delicately, in a graceful gesture, she turned her hands, putting their backs to the floor, exposing her palms and the soft flesh of her palms, to him, indicating her surrender, her submission, her vulnerability and her readiness.
There was applause, the striking of the left shoulder, from the tables.
The brute then crouched beside her and encircled her neck with the coils of his whip. He drew her to her knees then before him. She looked up at him, her neck in the whip coils, his.
There was more applause. Then the brute looked to Policrates, who indicated a table. He then pulled the girl to her feet and, running her over the tiles, and then releasing the coils form her neck, threw her stumbling into the arms of waiting pirates who, with a cry of pleasure, seized her and began to work their lusty wills upon her. There was more applause, and laughter."
~Rogue of Gor, page 190 to 196~

"Policrates is generous," I said.
"It is nothing," he said.
This form of hospitality, of course, is common on Gor. It is common to provide a guest with a girl for the night, to see to his comfort. My compliment, nonetheless, was appropriate, as was his reply. Ritualistic amenities, and pleasantries, on such occasions are invariably observed.
~Rogue of Gor, page 196~

"Tela, when captured," he said, indicating a blonde, "begged to be kept in white silk."   He laughed. "After throwing her to a crew, for their pleasure, we put her, as she had asked, in white silk." "Amusing," I said. "She now often begs for red silk," he said.
~Rogue of Gor, page 197~

"Buy me, Master," begged Beverly.
I then made her respond to me, and she began to moan. "I want to be bought," she moaned.
To beg to be purchased is a slave's act. That is a saying of Goreans. I think it is true. In this, then, Miss Henderson provided further confirmation of the rightness of the collar upon her throat, that she was a natural and true slave.
"If I yield well to you, Master," wheedled Miss Henderson, "will you buy me?"
I then, savagely, struck her face, back and forth, with the palm of my hand, and then its back.
"Forgive me, Master," she cried, "I did not mean to bargain! I will yield to you fully, and perfectly, at your least command! Do not kill me, Master, please!"
There was blood on my hand, and at her mouth. Her lip was swollen.
I kissed her upon the swollen lip, and she whimpered. I tasted her blood.
"Please do not kill me. Master," she begged.
I then took her."
~Rogue of Gor, page 221~

"The master/slave relationship is the institutionalization of dominance and submission. It is, under the enhancements of civilization, the institutionalization of the primitive biological relationship of the human male and female, he the master, she the slave. How lonely is the man who has not yet found his slave; how forlorn is the woman who has not yet found her master."
~Rogue of Gor, page 240~

"You may do obeisance, my dear," said Kliomenes. The girl rose to her feet and went to Kliomenes. She knelt before him, on the dias, and put her head down. Gently, softly, she licked and kissed his feet. She then rose again to her feet, backed away, and then, on the tiles, again knelt. She put the palms of her hands on the tiles, and lowered her head to the tiles. Then she straightened up, her back straight, assuming the position of the pleasure slave, though keeping her head bowed, deferentially."
~Rogue of Gor, page 299~

~Memorable Passages~