Assassins

Matrix Voom lingers over his paga as he ponders the job of assassin. He lifts the goblet to his lips and remembers his secret trainings. He turns his eyes to the door of Three Winds and wonders if they linger outside, hunting his blood. There are so many of them. He nods and stands, looking over his Home Stone, his place to reconnect and throws his satchel over his shoulder. He walks to the front doors, his hand over the silver knobs and sighs. He can never come home here again, he thinks as he looks at the world he knows.

He snickers to himself as he imagines the journey he takes to hide, muttering, “One should never threaten to kill an assassin.” He smirks and knows his fate as he walks to the docks of Three Winds and throws his satchel in the boat, breathing in the salty air. He pushes the boat away from the docks with his boot and watches as the home he has always known vanishes before his eyes.

He turns to the isles before him and sighs, “”Is it possible for me to stay out of danger?!” He smirks as he stears the boat towards the north, wondering what lays before him…and whether he can live this time. He looks back on his Home Stone as the wind whips his unruly black hair over hs sapphire eyes and grins, thinking to himself, “Probably not”…and stears his boat away from his home.

A Dark Wind Blows In Three Winds

Unyoking his bow, Matrix looks about his home…Three Winds….weary of his travels but happy to breath in the familiar scent of his family. He calls out, but only the echo of the great foyer answers him. He lazily saunters over to the study, looking behind him at the muddy tracks on the tile floor, reminding himself to clean that up tomorrow. He kicks at the heels of each boot to let his worn feet breath and pads over to his Father’s desk. He rifles through the many doves, stopping to snicker at a few of the names he recognizes, until one addressed to him catches his eye. He breaks the wax seal quickly and unfolds the parchment, holding it to the candle flame.

A dark wind blows through Three Winds as he reads the message from Wingcommander Sands warning him of a price on his head. Matrix rubs his temples and tries to think of what possible crime he had committed, willing himself to remember those few nights of black dreams where he knew not how his boots found themselves under strange beds.

He folds the parchment and lifts it gingerly over the candle, watching as the flame chars the paper black and acrid smoke curls his nostrils. He looks about at his home and sighs. He takes up his satchel and slips his aching feet back in his boots. He walks purposefully to the door, his every step reverberating against the vast warmth of his home. He turns, his sapphire eyes moist, and sighs deeply, before turning to the door and walking outside, locking the door to a home he would not see in many moons.

Matrix draws his hood up over his eyes and sets off to learn more of his pursuers.

An Interpretation: The Emancipation of Slaves

(Portrait by Connisec)

As history has revealed, no institution stands forever. Ubars are overthrown, cities are left for ruin….one great outlaw or panther tribe become instinct….only to find a new Ubar, a new city, a new group of rebellions with different ideas. Perhaps brute strength and a lust for power should be factored in as well. However, many times, these coups are the act of dreamers….people who believe in a higher cause.

So the question begs itself….when will it be the turn of the kajirae and kajiri? The signs are already present in many cities. Boys and girls trained in bows and swords….able to take down the mightiest warrior with a well-aimed stone. In fact in some of the outlaw tribes, there are kajirae and kajiri that perform more as leaders than the Masters or Mistresses that own them. They have respect and a following. I think of one boy in particular.

One could also make the argument the revolution has already begun by the kajirae. After all, don’t most rebellious girls find themselves bearing arms as Panthers? I know of one such kajira who not only became a mighty Panther, but has now become a well-respected leader among tribes.

Many of the Lifestylers boycotted the few male  panther tribes that formed several moons ago, protesting they did not exist by scripture. However, as a wise commentator pointed out, unless you are reenacting scenes of the scripture as a play, the story itself is an organic, breathing idea that takes form as more ideas are involved….the story molds itself with interpretations.

So why not male panthers? Disgruntled boys scavaging in the woods as a rebellious act against those who oppress them. It sounds plausible and is not wholly without logic to the development of the scriptures. In fact, if we uphold to the scrptures, kajiri never even wore a collar, as they were men still. One of the most wonderful aspects of any adventure are the possibilities that wait. Is it such a stretch that kajiri, men who have found themselves to the service of another, do not rebel and live as a tribe in the densest part of the Northern Wood?

Stifling imagination and interpretation leads to stale role play.

Master As Deity

(Humble Learning by Etana Vella)

The very act of being a kajira or kajirus is a religious experience. Religion is an unquestionable belief in something greater than you…faith in a Master or Mistress, for instance. Religion is rife with ritual. The essence of a true kajira or kajirus is in the details of the ritual. Religion rallies the followers to believe in the cause…much like a Master or Mistress instructs a kajira or kajirus on the politics of their surroundings. And like a true believer, the kajira and kajirus follow their Master or Mistress to the death of that cause. It is not a question of whether they believe it or feel it, only that it is important to the one greater than themselves.

The disobedient kajirae and kajiri remind me of the Catholics who only go to church on Christmas Eve and Easter. The ones that go through the basics of the ritual, but do not have an invested heart in the cause greater than themselves. They clock in and clock out.

A true kajira or kajirus invests their heart in the cause of their Master and Mistress, following it as devoutly as any religion. Is a Master or Mistress a deity? No. It is not fair to put that pressure on them. But the ritual and servitude of a true kajira or kajirus would suggest that they do believe in the perfection of their Master or Mistress….even if it means they have to drag it out themselves.

The Auction

(The Auction by Kim Dench)

She raises her eyes to see her prospects, the binds cutting into her flesh. Her heart skips a beat at the snarling, salivating men. The Slave Master is shouting her price as she goes numb. She forces her body in place, knowing she must be pleasing, but not too pleasing. It is a fine line. She must calculate which Master she wants and how much gold he has. She scans the crowd and finds a dashing Master, young…dimples…he is staring at her. She snickers as he quickly fumbles to count his gold. She glances once more around the room and stares in his eyes. The Slave Master announces her price once more and she adjusts her posture…grinning at her new Master.

Red Silks

(Red Silk By Kim Dench)

“More common on Gor were the red silk slaves, the pleasure slaves, trained in the arts of pleasing a Master. Many were trained in the slave pens of Ar and Ko-Ro-Ba, though many a Master preferred to train his slaves to suit his own tastes. The more training a girl received, the higher the price commanded for her on the auction block. They may have been trained in serving drinks and food, but also in pleasuring a Master sensually, visually, and intellectually. She may have been trained in the slave dances, and erotica, but she would also have been trained to use her intellect to be creative to find new and varied ways to please her Master. They were much sought after on Gor, for a red silk slave, her silks having been bloodied in her opening to men, would have the fire in her slave belly lit and burning fiercely. Her use was for that of her Master and what ever gave him pleasure, to include offering her use for the night or a specified period of time to a friend or colleague. It did not necessarily mean that she was for the use of all. For to use the collared slave of another without permission from her owner could mean impalement on the walls of the city for the user. There are many interpretations of the meaning of a red silk girl. It may mean that she is for the use of those other than her Master, or it may just mean that she has been trained in the dances of Gor, it could even mean only that her Master prefers to see her in the vibrant color of red or his caste color.

Red Silk: Strictly speaking meaning a girl had been opened to men and the fire in her slave belly was lit, may have received training in slave dances” – www.gor.net/soa/training/slvslk.htm

Strength

(Sebcaen Ulysses in Purgatorio)

I have been both servant and Master. Master is a far harder role. To be a Master takes great strength, patience, wisdom, decisiveness, ritual, bravery, and belief. The unspoken incidents occur when a Master turns to his kajira or kajirus and whispers in their ear he has no idea what he is doing. The internal battle to lead, motivate, reason, manage, and secure honor slowly wear down even the best Masters… to be on stage every moment is exhausting.

To be a good Master, you must have internal strength, a solid understanding of who you are and what you need. This is easier said then done, for all Masters and Mistresses have those moments where they send their little ones on chores and close the doors and rest their throbbing head in their hands and breath deep….questioning their ability to lead. They shake their heads and look around wondering how anyone would be foolish enough to follow them. They may never admit it, but every Master and Mistress has had this moment at least once and probably more.

But they shake it off and realize that the literal happiness and well being of another person rests solely on their shoulders. Bad Masters and Mistresses tune out at this moment and treat their little ones badly. Good Masters and Mistresses lose sleep over the well being of their chain.

Master and Mistress may seem a glamorous job, all the attention on them, what they say goes…but it is a challenging role for a true Master and Mistress. They do not walk the road lightly.

Envy

(Simply Faith by Sebcaen Ulysses)

There is that day when a Master or Mistress announces that he or she will be adding another to the chain. For the Firsts, this day is a test of their loyalty. On the one hand, they are excited for a brother or sister and show encouragement to their Master or Mistress, all the while their hearts beat fast and their palms sweat with jealousy.  A servant kajirus or kajira may wonder what need they did not fill in their Master or Mistress.

Replacement is an unspoken fear among kajirae and kajiri, especially the longer they serve a Master or Mistress. Things become routine, they finish each other’s sentences, they have an intimacy that goes beyond the sexual and into the heart. Like a Free Companionship. So the notion of an addition to a chain is an internal traumatizing event for many little ones.

The very thought drives many kajirae and kajiri to go crazy, seething and throwing tantrums, expecting some due place of authority in the house, picking fights with the new brother or sister, competing, conniving, even becoming demanding. Those instances never turn out happily for either party.

A wise kajira or kajirus has already resigned themselves from the moment they accept a collar that they will never meet every need of a Master and Mistress. They can fool themselves in believing it, that their Master or Mistress will one day free them from the collar and Free Companion them, but they are just fooling themselves. Of course the best do find a strength and intimacy with their Master and Mistress that is their own, and yes, there are rare occassions where it ends with a Free Companionship. However, a content kajirus and kajira also knows that their Master or Mistress will also have those deep relationships with others as well, even if they are Free Companioned.

Wise kajirae and kajiri accept their jealousy and look on the positive, befriending the brother and sister and preparing them for serving their Master or Mistress to the best of their ability. This is what is expected, it is the role of the Firsts. Masters and Mistresses depend on the Firsts to build their chain. A good First who gets over their envy and looks at the chain like a business tends to find they are happier and have more status with their Master or Mistress.

Envy and jealousy lead to dark roads ahead…..positive attitude and driving yourself to serve under any circumstance, and do it well….well, that is a great kajira and kajirus.

Patience

(Photos of Kaylla Decosta by Sebcaen Ulysses)

Kajirae and kajiri are rarely given lessons in patience. Patience is an inactive activity in the life of a little ones. It is a secret passed on from boy to girl to calm them when their Master or Mistress travels, or kneeling during an uninteresting conversation amongst Free.

The best of the kajira and kajirus learn to use patience to strengthen themselves. It is those periods of waiting that a kajira and kajirus can learn and observe, sit quietly and take notes in their scrolls. It is that valuable time when their Masters and Mistresses are away to fine tune their serves, to put that little added drama to their dances. It is a time of reflection, of reaching out to their brothers and sisters and forming bonds.

Little ones are never prepared for those periods of waiting….looking out over the oceans or sands or forests of Gor and wondering when their Masters and Mistresses will return. Many go mad, acting precariously and defiling their Homestones. The best take the opportunity to reflect, think, and understand how better to serve.

There is a great sense of loss in a little one waiting for their Master or Mistress’s return. They sit and pour over scrolls, venture into cities,  keep their guard against danger (if they are good). Many in Gor have had those days, weeks, months, even years, waiting for the return, honing their skills in anticipation of the day when they look in their beloved’s eyes again.

Patience is an art that only the strongest are able to conquer…only the brave dare.

My Frustration With Gay Gor

I have been a part of gay Gor since the first city of Skjern was christened. I have seen the rise of Tabor, White Water, Farnacium, Red Rock, and many other cities, outlaw outposts and panther havens dedicated to the sole goal of establishing Gay Gor as a legitimate presence in Gor in Second Life. We have had countless success. There have been times when our cities were the envy of role play, creativity, and truly the spirit of John Norman. Gay Gor has established itself as a player due to the hard work of many, many people here, most of all my first Master, Reodominus Commander, Kyle Onmura, Tap Quentin, Levy Munro, and countless others. Those of us early Second Lifers remember the bigotry we experienced in straight Gor which brought us to establish Skjern, Red Rock, Tabor, White Water, and Farnacium.

However, we have lost our way countless times. Those of us true to Gor understand the nuances of the novels, even if we do not think they are the best. I myself have rolled my eyes at them. But at the end of the day, we role play Gor because we see fundamental truths in John Norman’s writings we can relate to.

Unfortunately, Gay Gor has the reputation of taking on players who are here not to enhance the themes of John Norman, but to get laid or take War of Worldcraft to Second Life. The true tragedy of Gay Gor is that we have let people interested in fucking take positions of power and mold the experience for those of us who actually want to role play the essence of the novels. We have let in gamers into our cities. We have lowered our standards in terms of the actors and characters of Gor which make our cities interesting for the cheap thrill of a bow or sword that can kill a person. It is not skill, it is money to buy the best. But that says nothing of a person’s ability to role play.

If Gay Gor were Hollywood, we have decided to fund the next Myley Cyrus act or the next American Pie, versus believing in the next Death of a Salesman or Doubt. We have decided we are cheap and tolerate cheap entertainment, versus a true spirit of character, storyline and arc.

I am with my friend Misha….Gay Gor is inferior to the experience in straight Gor right now. They out play, out class, and out arc what should be easy for gays accustomed to good drama. If you ever hope to be respected, I suggest you remember why you are here. If you are here to screw, go to the BDSM sims. If you are truly here to play Gor, then get a character, get a storyline, find restraint and patience and perform. If you truly perform, you will have fun and bring something glorious to the experience of Gor.