One thing I have learned from my Daddy is how strong I am. I used to act like a doormat because I thought being submissive meant being nice to all men. There is this guy — let’s call him M — that I used to roleplay with. I enjoyed roleplay with the little freak, but there were times when I was busy or just didn’t feel like it.  He would usually badger or charm me into playing anyway.

The last few days have been extremely difficult, and the last thing I want to do is roleplay. M knows what’s going on. Yet, he still was pushing me to roleplay. I considered my options. I could have roleplayed. I could have ignored him. I could have said “Maybe tomorrow.” I could have pretended to crash. Instead, I let myself get a little bit angry and spoke my mind.

M: Put on your best outfit for me!

Me: Nope

M: Aww

Me: *pokes him*

M: *Ish sad*

M: *is back*

Me: wb… where did you go?

M: got DC’d

Me: oooh… that sucks

M: Anyways… back to being sad

Me: *is an emotional sadist…. loves when he is sad*

M: How very **** of you.

Me: hm? what is?

M: Being an emotional sadist

Me: *gasps* How did you read my mind like that???

M: *taps the back of your skull* One of numerous implants I had put into you.

Me: hmm

Me: You know what I like about you?

M: What?

Me: You’re very charming and fun

M: I try. Now come run away to a wonderful world of mischief and deviance with me!

Me: Oh wait though. This is kinda like the good news/bad news situation… you know what I dislike about you?

M: What?

Me: You’re pushy and self-absorbed.

M: I knew I shouldn’t have asked.

Me: Oh you know curiosity would have eaten you up  

 

Ha! Take that. Better run before I get out the boxing gloves. Previous owners would be upset that I spoke like that to someone, because they felt my actions reflected on them. Maybe that’s ok for them… but I prefer being trusted to take care of myself and put pushy men into their proper places. Thanks, Daddy.

 

I was reading a thread on FetLife a few days ago about red flags. The poster asked what signs do you look for when you are getting to know someone and what would make you leery of someone. I have to insert a disclaimer here that most of my experience has been online, but I think the lessons I have learned apply to real life interactions as well.

The first time my spider sense tingled was when I had been in an online relationship for a long time, and he wouldn’t talk to me on Skype.  I was new to my submissiveness, so I ignored my feelings, thinking I had to obey him completely. It turned out that this man was lying to me about many things, including the fact that he was married. Lesson learned: If it seems like he’s hiding something, he probably is. 

The second time, a man and I started chatting, and he asked me to send him a picture. No big deal. Then he asked me to write him a short essay. Again, no big deal. I like to write. Then he asked me to take a picture of myself, nude and in nadu. BIG DEAL!!! I had only known this man for about a month, and he wasn’t making any effort to get to know the real me. A friend of mine said this guy seemed to be acting like a predator, because the things he was asking me to do kept getting bigger and more personal. My friend said this guy was probably seeing what he could get me to do for him. Lesson learned: If someone makes you feel uncomfortable, examine why.

Then there was another long term relationship I was in, and when it was just me and him, things were great. He was harsh with me, kept me on my toes, and expected a lot from me. The problem came whenever his other girl came around. He turned into a simpering subby, saying and doing things to placate her. Lesson learned: When you are interested in someone, watch how they act around others. 

Following that, I went through a series of very short relationships. In one, the guy didn’t want to collar me in SL because he said it would distract him from work, but then he collared two other girls. Another guy would tell me beautiful things and tell me that he wanted to marry me, but then he’d mysteriously crash or otherwise disappear for hours at a time. Lesson learned: Do their actions match the pretty words they are saying/typing? 

This is more specific to things I have gone through in relationships, but maybe it applies for you as well. I have a really hard time trusting someone if they continually promise me things that they fail to deliver. I don’t mean silly, nonsensical romance things like “I want to give you the sun and the moon.” I mean if they promise to do something you need them to do, and they don’t do it, it says something. It could be that the person is forgetful, but for me, I expect someone I’m in a relationship with to know himself well enough to know what his personal faults are. If he routinely forgets, he needs to set up reminders or otherwise not make promises.

And I guess this kinda leads to my personal HUGE RED FLAG, if someone is trying to be my Master and is telling me how to lose weight, while he himself is overweight and out of shape…. boo!!!! If he’s telling me I need to get off the computer more, while he spends ALL of his free time playing WoW…. boo!!! Before you try to master me, be your own master.

These are the ones I was able to think of off the top of my head.. I’m sure I’ll revisit this post later to add to it.

There are some people in Second Life Gor who are teaching slaves to greet the Free depending on rank, like this:

Greetings, my Master.

Greetings, Ubar.

Greetings, First Sword.

Greetings, Physician.

Greetings, Baker.

Greetings, Mistress.

Greetings, kajirus.

Greetings, kajirae.

There are absolutely no examples of slaves greeting like this in the books. They did not greet according to rank. Though it’s plausible that people may use “greetings,” most of the slaves in the books simply said “Tal.”

Yet I had little doubt that the strong, large-handed men of Laura, sturdy in their work tunics, who stopped to regard us, would not appreciate the body of a slave girl, provided she is vital, and loves, and leaps helplessly to their touch.
“Tal, Kajirae!” cried one of the men, waving. Ute pressed against the bars, waving back at him. The men cheered. – Captive of Gor, Page 87*

The girls stood straight, proud under the gaze of a warrior. `Tal, Master,’ said many of them, as I rode slowly by.
– Tribesmen of Gor, Page 344*

“I am Radish,’ said Radish. ‘I am Turnip,’ said Turnip. ‘I am Verr Tail,’ said Verr Tail. Sandal Thong looked at me. ‘I am Sandal Thong,’ she said. ‘Tal,’ I said to them. ‘Tal,’ they said to me.” – Slave Girl of Gor, Page 199*

Furthermore, in the only examples of slaves addressing men by titles (ie, Ubar or Captain), she/he is scolded.

“Please, my Ubar,” said she, “let me stay.”
“I am not your Ubar,” I said. “I am your master.”
“Please, Master,” she begged, “let Telima stay.”
– Raiders of Gor, Page 224*

“Captain!” demanded the boy.
The kitchen master, in fury, grabbed him by the hair and raised his arm to thrash him.
I gestured that he not do so.
The kitchen master stepped back, angry.
“What do you want?” I had asked the boy.
“To see you, Captain,” said he.
“Master!” corrected the kitchen master.
“Captain!” cried the boy.
“Normally,” I said to the boy, “a kitchen slave petitions to enter his master’s presence through the kitchen master.”
“I know,” said the boy.
“Why did you not do so?” I asked.
“I have,” said the boy defiantly, “many times.”
“And I,” said the kitchen master, “have refused him.”
“What is his request?” I asked the kitchen master.
“He would not tell me,” said the kitchen master.
“How then,” I asked the boy, “did you expect the kitchen master to consider whether or not you should be permitted to enter my presence?”
– Raiders of Gor, Page 220*

I’m still looking for the quote, but there is one that reads something along the lines of “All Free Men are called Master. All Free Women are called Mistress.” I will post the quote once I can find it in the book.

Aha, I found several quotes:

“A Gorean slave, incidentally, always addresses free men as ‘Master,’ and all free women as ‘Mistress.’” — Captive of Gor, Page 73*

“The slave addresses all free men as ‘Master’ and all free women as ‘Mistress.’” — Prize of Gor, Page 295.*

I want to note something here. Norman’s writing style is such that he usually includes modifiers in his books such as many, most, some, often. For example, “most citizens had never tasted blackwine,” meaning that some had. In writing this way, Norman allowed for a lot of interpretation of the world of Gor. However, in the examples above, it is absolute. “The slave addresses ALL…” Not some. ALL.

Many people who don’t play by the books argue that the books only provide a template for roleplay, that people don’t have to write exactly what the books cover. And that’s certainly true, to a point. But it’s important to remember what makes Gor the world it is, otherwise we are playing medieval Earth. One very important aspect of Gor was the cornerstone that is slavery. Let’s call this the spirit of the books.

Gorean men naturally kept slaves in their place. So according to the spirit of the books, men would not allow slaves to command several minutes of attention by greeting several people. Also, Gorean men were all about constantly reminding slaves that they were slaves. Everything about slavery was intended to impress that state upon the women. The use of titles is a convention the Free would use among themselves; allowing slaves to use titles would let them step out of their place.

I don’t understand why people have to make things more difficult. Here you have a very simple rule that’s easy to follow. Instead, people have come up with a very complicated system that requires that those who roleplay as a slave remember all of the castes, which castes ranks highest, and what role everyone in Second Life Gor may play.

Just remember this:

Tal, Master. Tal, Mistress. Tal, slaves.

Simple.

———-

Works Cited:

Norman. John. Captive of Gor. New York: Ballatine Books, 1972. Print.

Norman, John. Raiders of Gor. New York: Masquerade Books, 1971. Print.

Norman, John. Tribesmen of Gor. New York: Daw Books, 1976. Print.

Norman, John. Slave Girl of Gor. New York: Daw Books, 1977. Print.

Norman, John. Prize of Gor. New York: E-Reads, 2008. Electronic.

Idoneo: Latin form of Old Norse Iðunnr, meaning “again to love.”

Her long red hair was bound, for the first time in her life, as was proper for a newly companioned Free Woman. She turned her head slightly to look in the mirror, admiring the work of her slave and the rosy glow of her skin, as she smiled in satisfaction, thinking about yesterday’s ceremony and last night’s consummation.

She left her room, the one she now shared with her companion, and went in search of him. On finding him, she linked her arm through his, beaming up at him as they strolled the grassy land between the village and the forest. Stopping near a strand of trees, he turned to her and lightly touched her face.

“Are you happy, my dear?”  he asked with a smile.

She nodded, radiant with her feelings for him, her childhood companion and love of her life. “I am so happy, Robert. But there is something I wish to tell you.”

He tilted his head inquiringly, holding his tongue to allow her speech.

“The people you know as my parents are not really my parents,” she informed him, searching his face for signs of shock. “My real mother was a forest girl, and she gave me to Alair and Silva to raise, as she couldn’t.”

He started to question her, but his attention was caught by the sight of a woman stepping out from the trees. She looked just like Idonea, only slightly older and dressed in panther attire. His gaze traveled down and then lingered on a scrap of material tied rather carelessly around her leg, the edges of a dina brand peeking out. The woman readjusted the fabric to hide her brand and, as quickly as she had revealed herself, she was gone again, hidden within the tree line.

His jaw tightened, and he looked back at Idonea, his hands gripping her upper arms painfully. “You are the daughter of a slave?” he questioned angrily. He shook her, his voice rising, “YOU are a slave!”

He pushed her away from him, lips twisting in disgust, and she fell to the ground, looking up at him with fat tears welling in her wide eyes. How had he guessed? She hadn’t intended to tell him that part.

Pacing, he muttered to himself, and then turned to her once more. “You slut! How could you not tell me this before we were companioned?” She cried softly, knowing she was to blame. She had held the truth from him, fearing it might change the way he saw her. But this was the boy she had played with as a child, the young man she had told all of her secrets to as a teen-ager, the man she had fallen so deeply in love with. Why didn’t he treat her as he always had? Did he no longer love her?

“You are now a slave, Idonea. It is my right to declare you as such, and that’s what you are. I will collar you and sell you to the next slaver passing by. I will hope that I never see you again,” he fairly yelled the words at her, his brow drawn, face dark with rage.

The color drained from her face. Her mother had told her how horrible it was to be a slave. She had advised her over and over again to always behave properly, to be safe, to take no chances, lest she become a slave herself. She had told Idonea how she had fallen in love with her Master, how he had abandoned her, and how she had escaped to the forests, heartbroken.

She sobbed, “Please, no, Robert. I am a Free Woman, not a slave. I will leave, if you so desire, but please don’t enslave me!”

He kicked at her leg. “Silence! You were born a slave, and that’s where you… ” His words were cut off as his eyes widened, and he fell forward, slumping into the ground beside her, a long dagger protruding from his back.

She screamed, holding her hands to her mouth in horror at the copious amounts of blood seeping from him. Looking up, she saw her birth mother standing there, a hard look in her eyes.

“Mother…?” Idonea questioned softly. She had no desire to be enslaved, but she didn’t wish her betrayer, her love, to die either. Her mother shook her head sharply before leaning over to haul the younger woman to her feet.

“Get your brother and hires two guards, then leave this place. It was wrong of me to keep you here close to me, but it was wrong of you to trust a man. You can never trust a man, Idonea!”

Idonea swallowed hard, her face stained with tears and dirt, then turned to run, fleeing the hurt inflicted on her by a man and her mother. She packed hastily, made her explanation to her family and, within the hour, she was riding in a wagon with her brother, escorted by two guards.

So after a few weeks of messing around on other accounts, trying to decide who to play as what and where, I finally came to the conclusion that I don’t want to play on any avatar but Dear. I enjoy playing a role in SL Gor, but it comes to Out of Character interactions and conversations, I don’t want to be anyone but me.

I had thought about playing on other accounts, because I am sometimes tired of all of the history I have as Dear. I have made mistakes, many of them public ones. I don’t want to continue paying for them by the way people think of me and treat me. I don’t want someone messing with my head and causing drama by playing on an alt. I don’t want people to have expectations of me that I can’t meet. I don’t want to be treated like a slave because people have always known me as a “good slut.”

But I reminded myself that what other people think of me is none of my business. Furthermore, the expectations that others might have of me, whether I meet them or not, is their problem and not mine. I am going to be who I am and deal with whatever consequences there might be.

So for the past few days, I have been hanging around at the Gor Hub on Dear. One night, this guy and I started roleplaying in IMs, and he was pretty rough with me. The second night, I started talking to another guy, who was very sweet, and we roleplayed a little — stuff like holding hands. It’s interesting to me that I felt MUCH more comfortable with the brutality of the sexual roleplay than I did with the affectionate stuff.

But this does bring up another pet peeve of mine… is there something written on my forehead or in my profile that pronounces me an easy slut? Why do I get the men who want to spend a few hours in IMs getting their jollies by roleplaying sexually?

Seriously. I’m not all that interested. I’m not a prude. But if I am horny, I can go get MrBzzBzz out of the drawer and have a good time with him. Or.. I can actually go out with someone and have REAL sex. So I don’t need cyber sex, and if I’m going to have sex in SL, I would prefer that it be part of a larger story, not just some one night IM stand.

Not only that, but I would like to have a roleplay partner, someone to write a long term story with. I am more than just some sexy words in an IM, and anyone who can’t see that is really not worth my time and attention.

Part 1 – High School

Georgie trotted towards the ultra popular Greg Howard and stopped in front of him to gaze up at his handsome face with eyes full of adoration. She pushed her glasses back up on her nose and giggled nervously.

She’d had a crush on Greg since the start of her freshman year. But Greg, then a junior, had never paid her any attention. It was easy to see why. Georgie was tall, almost as tall as Greg, but she was chunky. She couldn’t really be described as FAT, but she did have some extra weight on her. Enough that her classmates called her “Porky Georgie.”

The glasses that hid her pretty eyes didn’t help either. Nor did the fact that her hair was cut in an unflattering way, her teeth needed braces and her face was smattered with light acne. No one had ever taken the time to teach her the things a young girl should know.

But some things, like TRUE LOVE, didn’t need to be taught. And Georgie knew she loved Greg. She thought he may even love her back.

In her sophomore year, she had one class with Greg and was lucky enough to sit next to him. Oh what a glorious day it was when he first spoke to her. She managed to reply with something witty. From then on, he would talk to her on a regular basis.

All of her feelings soaked her voice as she stared up at him in the hallway at school, her body rotating back and forth as a smitten smile spread over her face. “Hiiiiii, Greg.”

“Oh, hey Georgie.” Greg responded as he glanced at her before scanning those moving about the hallway between classes.  He had gotten to know Georgie in his sophomore year.  She was a nice enough girl.  She made him laugh and that broke down the obvious barrier that surrounded her: she was not that attractive.  Great personality, but that was as far as it went.  Greg knew that she liked him … and that was flattering.  But the feelings were not shared.  But they had become friends … not close friends, but they did talk regularly.  His friends razzed him all the time about it, but he did not care.  She made him laugh …

His attention was not on her; he was looking for Julie Atkinson.  She was drop-dead gorgeous, and Greg was very much interested in her.  He was trying to work up the courage to ask her to the school dance that was coming up.  Even though he was popular, and for the life of him he could not understand why,  he lost all his confidence when it came to talking to her.  If only he could talk to her like he talks to Georgie.  She was so easy to talk to … but he did not want to discuss his other girl interests with her.  That might break the spell he held over her, and … it was very flattering!

There was not sign of her in the hallway, so Greg closed his locker and turned his attention to Georgie.  “So what’s going on with you?  Break any hearts today?”  He loved to flatter her too, to see her blush and giggle.  He figured he was helping her to be confident, since she really had no reason otherwise.  She just was not that attractive, and a bit overweight.  But, she made him laugh …

As Georgie pushed her stringy blonde hair our of her face, she took note of his inattention and tried to figure out what or who he was looking for. Disappointment was heavy on her round face. She kept thinking that he would finally turn to her and profess his love for her. That’s what she dreamed of at night, and she just knew it would happen someday!

She peered into Greg’s locker, her eyes sweeping the contents for any helpful information. She liked to learned as much as she could about him, and she told herself that it was so she could maybe surprise him with something. That’s what she told herself, anyway…

Her gaze fell on a piece of paper that was stuck to the inside of the locker door. It wasn’t a girlish doodle of a boy’s name with hearts and flourishes. Instead, it was a simple heart with one word inside its borders: Julie. It revealed much more that Georgie wanted to know, and her heart fell all the way to her chubby belly.

She pushed it away though. All couples had to go through some trials and tribulations before they could have “happily ever after.” And Georgia knew Greg would someday be hers…

See? He was flirting with her now. She flushed scarlet, heat burning her cheeks as she giggled and breathed out, “Oh, Greg!” She ducked her head shyly and looked down at the floor while she waited for the flame in her face to die down. “Naw, only my evil twin does that,” she grinned, looking at him intently to see if he would think her remark funny.

Greg smiled, “Well, I hope I never meet her!”  He glanced at the hallway clock: the class bell would ring in about a minute.  Greg started walking down the hall towards his last period class.  “So, do you plan to go to the dance?”  He was only making conversation, as he always did with Georgie.  They really had nothing in common.  And he wasn’t asking her to be his date.  Their relationship was in no way a romantic one … she just made him laugh …

When they turned the corner that lead to his classroom, he saw Julie coming in the opposite direction.  “Hey Georgie … I’ll talk to you later,” he said as he moved away, not waiting for her reply.  “Hey Julie!  Hey Julie, wait up!”  He had forgotten all about Georgie and was fully focused on catching Julie.  She turned and stopped, waiting for Greg.  His whole demeanor was different when he spoke with Julie, more animated.  He walked with her in the direction he had just came, no longer concerned with being on time for his class.

He walked fast so as not to make Julie late for her class.  Greg asked Julie if he could meet her by her locker after class.  He wanted to ask her about something.  Julie smiled; it was not hard to figure out what he wanted to ask her, and she readily agreed.  Greg felt an adrenaline high rush though his body.  “Hey, thanks!  See you in an hour!”  Greg turned and ran down the hall … the bell had just rung.  He did not care if he was late … Julie had agreed to meet him!  He was on cloud nine …

She giggled again, the sound inane even to her own ears. She eagerly followed Greg down the hallway, trotting to keep up. Oh, was he going to ask her to the dance!? Why else would he bring it up? Oh, this was it! This was finally it!

She opened her mouth to reply when they rounded the corner. Greg’s slowed gait meant that she almost ran into his back, and her words were forgotten as she saw Julie coming down the hall. She watched Greg hurry after Julie and noted the look on his face. He never looked at her like that.

Her stomach hurt, almost as much as her heart did, and she felt like she was going to be sick. She hurried to the bathroom and locked herself into a stall. Her tummy rolled as she started to sob, holding her face in her hands.

She finally sat down on the toilet and dragged her backpack onto her lap to withdraw a large bag of candy. Even though lunch hadn’t been that long ago, she was hungry again.

She stuffed candy into her mouth as she blubbered. No one had ever talked to her the way Greg had, not even her parents, who mostly ignored her. She was certain Greg liked her, like that, but…. apparently not, given the way he’d chased after Julie.

Greg was waiting for Julie when class was over, and was greatly encouraged by the radiant smile she wore as she approached him.  “Hey Greg!” she greeted him as she opened her locker and put her books away.  “What did you want to ask me?”  He was very nervous, even though he felt good that she agreed to meet him.  “Well … I was wondering … if no one has asked you yet …”  He looked down as he said this, and then looked into her eyes.  “Would you go to the dance with me?”  Julie smiled.  She had hoped that Jim Casey would have asked her, but the dance was two days away.  “Sure Greg … I would love to go with you!”  A huge smile broke out on his face … he could not believe it!  “Hey, Julie … that’s great!”  They continued talking, making plans for their date …

He did not see Georgie for the rest of that week; in fact, he never even thought of her.  He was consumed with Julie, imagining how their relationship would take off and they could be a couple!  The night of the dance finally arrived, and Jason, armed with a corsage of flowers, went to pick up Julie …

Georgie heard through the rumor mill that Greg was taking Julie Atkinson to the dance. She pretended to her parents that she was sick and stayed home from school the rest of the week. And she must have really been ill; she didn’t even eat anything when she was home.

On the afternoon of the dance, her one and only female friend stopped by, begging her to please come to the dance with her. Georgie adamantly refused. She didn’t want to see Greg with Julie; she didn’t think her heart could take it.

Her friend pleaded, and then she cried. Before long the cries turned into sobs, and her friend said she was too afraid to go alone. Georgie’s already soft heart melted, and she agreed to go.

Once Georgie was attired in a pretty blue dress, her friend fixed her hair. She wasn’t very skilled, but the up-swept hairdo with little curly tendrils around the hairline actually looked nice on her.

They headed off to the dance arm in arm, and once there, they became the consummate wallflowers.

Things were going just as Greg had imagined.  Julie looked absolutely stunning in the sexy, but tasteful dress she had selected, and she seemed genuinely pleased with the flowers he had brought her.  After meeting her parents, they left for the dance.  When they arrived, the hall was about half full … the dance was not slated to start until seven, so they were a bit early.  They found a table with some of her friends … Greg excusing himself so he could get them some drinks.  Nothing hard, of course … while he spooned two glasses of punch, Randy walked over to him.  “Hey Greg!  Sweet date your brought!”  Randy had not brought a date, but he brought something else: alcohol.  He offered some to Greg, but he declined … he did not want to ruin his perfect evening …

But it was soon ruined as soon as Jim Casey arrived … without a date.  Not that he could not have one, but he liked to play the field.  When he asked Julie to dance the first time, Greg did not like it … but Julie had accepted.  But then there was a second … and she invited him to their table.  It did not take long for Greg to feel like the outsider … Julie leaned in towards Jim, laughing and giggling.  She all but ignored Greg for a good part of the evening …

He had finally had enough.  He got up from the table without saying anything and walked away … hoping to hear Julie call and ask where he was going.  He made it to the back double doors and heard nothing.  Looking back, she did not even notice that he had gone.  Greg was very upset and decided to take the edge off his hurt feelings.  He went outside and found Randy and a few others, drinking all that they wanted.  Without saying a word, Greg took a bottle of Jim Daniels and walked away.  They were too drunk to protest, and Greg wanted to be alone.  He walked to the football field and took a seat on the bleachers.  He opened the bottle and took a large drink, the hot liquid lighting up his throat and stomach.  He took another … and then a third.  It was not long before the alcohol had its affect on him … but he did not care.  His evening was already ruined …

Georgie and her friend got to the dance when it was in full swing, and she promptly looked for Greg. Her heart ached as she saw that he was indeed with Julie. But it was akin to a train wreck, she just couldn’t stop watching him, no matter how much it hurt.

She was so intent on watching him that she didn’t really hear the compliments on her appearance, though she did manage a distracted thank you. She didn’t even reply when a young, geeky looking boy approached her and asked her to dance. She also missed the jab of her friend’s elbow into her side, because at that moment, Greg was leaving his table and heading for the back doors.

“Gotta go,” she tossed over her shoulder as she hurried after him. He seemed like he was upset, and no wonder… that bitch Julie was throwing herself at some other boy. She stopped at the table and looked down at Julie. “You slut, he’s too good for the likes of you.”

If she stayed around, she would have found the look on Julie’s face to be ridiculous. But she was hurrying after Greg, pushing through the double doors, chasing after him. She was concerned when Greg took a bottle of booze from the other boys, and she followed him to the bleachers.

She watched him for close to half an hour. She mainly wanted to make sure that he would be alright, that he wouldn’t pass out and hurt himself, or that he wouldn’t try to drive while he was drunk. Her heart was so full of love for him, and she hurt for him. She knew what it was like to be rejected.

Her foot echoed against the bleachers as she climbed up. She settled next to him without saying a word. She was just there for him, if he needed her.

Greg did not become aware of Georgie’s presence until he heard her foot upon the bleachers.  He smiled when he saw her, “Hey Georgie!  Enjoying the fuckkking dance?”  His voice was slurred from the Jack Daniels.  He put his arm around her and pulled her next to him, squeezing and feeling her arm as though sampling the softness of her skin …

He took another swig from the bottle and held it out for her.  “Come on Sssweetheart!  Let’s get fuckkked up!”  Greg was thinking about Julie.  “That fuckking cunt … ssshhe aint a lady like you, Georgie.”  He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek … a wet, slobbery kiss that spoke volumes on how drunk you was … and what he was thinking …

She smiled back at Greg. He didn’t seem too sad, she thought as she gnawed at her lip. He seemed in a good mood, actually. She was too innocent to know that it was the booze talking.

A bright blush reddened her face as her pulled her in close to him, and she took advantage of his movement to put her hand on his hard thigh, rubbing back and forth as she enjoyed the feel of him.

She took the bottle doubtfully. She had never had alcohol before, and it was probably better if at least one of them kept a clear head. So she put her thumb over the mouth and pretended to drink before handing it back to him.

She looked at him with wide, shocked eyes after he kissed her cheek. It wasn’t a wonderful kiss, but it was a kiss! She beamed at him, pleased with the kiss and the compliment, and moved even closer to him. She loved him so much, and things were going to work out just fine.

He was pleased that she took a drink … it meant that she wanted what he wanted.  He rubbed her arm more firmly, his mind focused more and more on her body.  He looked into her eyes, and glanced down at her boobs.  She seemed pretty to him now … why had he not seen it before?  At least she liked him … not like that slut Julie …

“Come on, Babe … letsss go for a walk.”  He stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the bleachers and across the field.  He stumbled and laughed, drinking as they went.  As they approached the far end of the field, the ground slopped down to a small wooded area.  It was far enough away from the school that no one would see them have the fun he knew they both wanted.  He put his arm around her waist as they started down the slope.  When they reached the bottom, he dropped his bottle and pulled her forcefully into his arms, giving her another wet kiss as his hand grabbed her ass …

She eagerly stood when he did. She would go anywhere with him. She ran with him, holding one hand to her glasses and laughing with him when he stumbled. She wished that he would lay off the booze now, so he’d be coherent when she told him how much she loved him. But they had the rest of their lives for that.

Her body felt weird when he put his arm around her, though weird in a really nice way. She got butterflies in her belly, and her coochie tingled. She gasped as he pulled her to him, and tears came to her eyes. Finally. He realized that he loved her. Her mouth opened for him, and she kissed him back with all of her inexperienced eagerness.

She clung to him, pressing her large breasts into him, and she could feel a bulge against her crotch. She knew what that was, though she had never seen one. Her breathing came faster. She was certain he was going to make love to her, and she wanted it. It was fitting that Greg was her first… he would be her last.

Greg let his lust go … not for Georgie, but for the idea of fucking anything with a hole.  It happened to be Georgie.  He growled his desire for her soft flesh as he opened his mouth and began to suck hard on her neck.  He then reached up and took hold of the top of her dress … he wanted to get at her boobs, but he was too drunk to be subtle.  He pulled down and ripped her dress, exposing her bra-covered breast.  He grabbed it hard, squeezing and pulling … his desire and alcohol driving his aggression.  He was soon biting her neck, his hands squeezing her ass and her tit … his cock was raging hard, and he wanted sweet release …

Georgie was in heaven. Oh sure, Greg’s touches were bringing more pain than pleasure, but in all of the sappy romance novels that she read, that’s how it happened when a girl was a virgin.

First, it would hurt, and there would be some blood. And then it would feel really good. Plus, this was her Greg, and he had finally realized that he loved her. He wouldn’t be making love to her if he didn’t feel the same way she felt.

She stared at him with wide eyes when he tore her dress, and she felt the first inkling of doubt. As his hands groped her, she lightly pushed her palms against him. “Greg… slow down. We have all night.”

If Greg had any interest in Georgie, if he was not driven by his drunken lust and anger, he could have gone slower and got what he wanted.  But, sadly for the naive Georgie, that was not the case.  Her feelings were not a factor … she had a pussy and he wanted to fuck.  It was that simple …

“Yeah, right …” he sneered when she pushed him away.  He grabbed her wrists and pushed back, causing her to stumble backwards against the slopping hillside.  And he was upon her, grabbing her hair and forcing her head to the side as he again licked and bit her neck.  Greg reached up her dress and took hold of her panties … pulling down hard.  Again, there was a ripping sound and they gave way.  He tossed them aside and began to grab her ass while he forced her legs apart.  He kept her head cocked to the side, hissing into her ear, “You know you want it … all you fucking bitches want it!”  He then returned to ravaging her neck and chest while he reached down and unzipped his pants and pushing his bikini underwear down, freeing his rock hard cock …

As she stumbled, she lost her glasses, and her vision blurred. There would have blurred anyway, from the tears that were gathering in her eyes. He was really scaring her.

She screamed as he pulled her hair and began to struggle in earnest. She wanted him, but he was really hurting her now. It wasn’t supposed to this violent, was it? Why didn’t she feel his love?

Her hands smacked at him lightly. She didn’t want to hurt him; she just wanted his attention. “Please, Greg! I do want you, just not like this!”

Greg pulled on her hair even more, telling her to stop her fucking screaming.  “You’ll take it any way I want to give it to you!”  As he said this, he began to push his hips forward, searching for her slit.  His first few attempts failed … but then he felt his head part the folds that covered her pussy.  “Oh yeah …” he hissed.  Without waiting, he pushed his hips forward hard, but met resistance.  “What the fuck …” he growled.  He pulled back and rammed his cock in harder … and still he met resistance.  The third time, slamming his dick in even harder, broke through her hymen … his shaft driving up her virgin shaft …

“Mmmmmm … feel it!  This is what you want!”  He then proceeded to fuck her hard, pounding her cunt without concern for her feelings.  Faster and faster he rocked her body … his breathing growing heavy as he neared culmination.  His hand never let go of her hair, his other grabbing her tit and squeezing hard through her bra … the sounds of his deep groaning filled the night air …

Hot tears scalded her face as they tumbled down her face, and her hair was a mess around her face, pulled from its pretty updo by his pulling. Her head hurt from the forceful tugging of his hand.

She felt his cock against her and moaned, though the sound had no excitement within it at all. It held only fear. She screamed as his cock shoved into her tight pussy, but the pain didn’t stop. Every stroke of his cock brought a fresh wave.

And her eyes rolled back in her head, her body on the brink of passing out as he plunged in and broke the thin skin marking her virginity. She could feel liquid on her thighs, as Greg continued, his hips moving faster and faster as he brutally raped her.

Greg continued to assault her body for his own lust, his shaft driving up her deflowered chamber, pulling back, and ramming back in.  Again and again until he grunted and groaned, letting out a loud roar as he exploded his hot cum inside her.  He did not slow down, but increased the force with which he as fucking her, more and more of his thick see rippling into her body …

And soon, he was spent.  He let go of her hair and pulled out of her without saying a word.  Greg looked down at her … saw what a mess she looked … as he put his cock back into his pants and zipped them up.  “Thanks, Babe.” he said as he bent down to pick up her torn panties.  He looked at them and then tossed them onto her chest.  He then picked up his bottle of whiskey and took a big drink.  Leaning down over her, he offered her a drink.  “This will help.”  He then tilted the bottle over her mouth, splashing whiskey on her lips and face …

He shook his head, “You need to fix your hair or something.”  Greg them walked away from her, moving up the slope … leaving her there as he moved back towards the dance hall.  “Fucking Julie!” he hissed as he took another drink …

Georgie sobbed under him as he fucked her hard, with no tenderness, no concern for her pleasure. She cried out anew as she could feel his meat jerking and twitching, followed by a rush of hot liquid.

She heard the zip of his pants with relief and flinched as he threw her torn panties at her. The waterfall of booze caused her to splutter and choke before the strong smelling liquid soaked her hair.

As he left, she curled into a tight ball in the grass and sobbed her poor broken heart out. She had a soft heart, and she was already forgiving Greg. He only acted like that because Julie hurt him so, or he did it because he was drunk.

He’d apologize to her, she was certain. Her body throbbed in pain even as her heart was mending.

Greg had not staggered very far when Randy approached him, as drunk as he was.  “Hey, you motherfucker!  You ssstole my fuckin’ JD!”  Greg laughed, holding up the half empty bottle.  “Guilty as charged!”  He took another drink.  “But, my boy … I’m gonna make it up to you … come with me!”  He turned and headed back to where he had raped Georgie.  When he came to the crest of the hill, he pulled Randy to him and pointed at the crumpled figure laying on the ground.  “For you!”

Randy needed no more encouragement than that already provided by the alcohol.  “Oh yeah …” he said as he rushed down the hill, already opening his pants.  Greg smiled as he followed.  Laying down next to Georgie, putting his weight upon her and pinning her down on the ground.  “You had some JD too,” he justified, and nodded to Randy, who had moved behind Georgie.

His pants pulled down, Randy lifted her dress up over her now bare ass and moved closer … spreading her cheeks as he guided his head to her anus.  Without any warning or preparation, he forced his cock up her ass, burying it deep inside her.  Greg laughed as he watched … already his cock growing inside his pants, ready for more …

She heard footsteps on the grass and looked up hopefully. She knew Greg would apologize, and now he had come to do that and make everything right with her.

But there was someone with him. She drew back in horror as the boy named Randy rushed towards her with his dick hanging out of his pants. “Greg,” she cried as he pinned her down, “what are you doing?!”

She started to fight back hard. She loved Greg, so he had been eager to make love with him. But she didn’t want sex with some other boy. How could Greg want to share her with someone else?

Her hands pushed against the ground as she tried to get him off of her, wiggling and struggling under his weight. “No… no, you poured it on me. I didn’t drink any. I didn’t drink any!”

She whimpered in fear as she felt something push against her backdoor, where things were supposed to come out, not go in! Her screams echoed across the hill as he pushed into her, his cock impossibly large in the tightness of her hole. Oh gawd, it hurt! It felt like her ass was on fire, and she thought she would die from the pain. “Stop! Please stop,” she begged.

Greg fought hard to keep Georgie on the ground, and, for the first time, he knew what he was doing was wrong.  But his alcohol-addled brain could not think and he did not dwell on it … besides, what could he do anyway?  He tried to watch Randy get off on her ass, but she was being so loud …

“Shhhhhhhhh … Julie may hear and know I am cheating!”  He laughed at his own joke … but she had to be quiet.  He pushed down on her body as he again opened his pants, pulling out his now revived cock.  “I sssaid ‘shhhh!”  He then pulled her head back, again by her hair, and pushed his dick into her open, screaming mouth.  “There … that’s mucchhh better!”  He held her head in place while he began to rock his hips … his shaft moving in and out of her gagging mouth …

Randy was fucking her ass so brutally that it felt like he was going to rip her body in half. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, Greg yanked her head back and shoved his cock into her mouth.

She continued to scream around him until he thrust in, causing her to choke and gag on him. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of her throat painfully, and she was reduced to whimpering in pain and fright. Her whole body trembled in shock.

Her hands dug into the earth, as every thrust by Randy impaled her mouth further on Greg’s cock. Every time, Greg rocked into her, he pushed her body back on Randy’s thrusting shaft.

Randy slapped her ass repeatedly as he speared her again and again, violently driving his cock up her ass.  It was not long before he started moaning, increasing his tempo … until he let out a high pitched squeal as he erupted inside her, filling her ass with his hot, thick cum … Randy did not relent until he was completely spent …

Greg was close too.  He began to push her head down onto his dick, bobbing it up and down until he, too, came in her mouth, his load spraying her mouth and oozing down her throat.  He continued to spurt more and more for her to swallow.  Both boys were done.  Randy withdrew his cock and fixed his pants, not bothering to pull her dress down over her violated ass.

Greg pulled his dick out of Georgie’s mouth, leaning down and kissing her on her head.  “You’ll be okay,” he slurred as he stood.  Taking another drink, he set the bottle down next to Georgie.  “You earned the rest …”  With that, Greg and Randy ascended the slope and out of sight, leaving the ravaged girl where she laid …

Randy’s cum jetted into her ass, coating the bruised and battered walls, and shortly after, Greg’s cock erupted in her mouth. She gagged on the taste of the ooze hitting the back of her throat, a copious amount dribbling out as she sobbed and blubbered into the grass under her.

She barely shifted as they left, first too afraid they’d come back and do it again, and then too afraid of moving her damaged body. When she heard the soft tread on grass, she curled up even tighter, her sobs coming faster, afraid they had returned to again rape her or maybe even kill her. A soft hand against her shoulder had her issuing a short scream. But it was only her friend Meg.

“Georgie? Oh god, what happened to you?” She looked Georgie over, shocked over the appearance of her — dress ripped and gathered around her waist, panties torn clean off of her, blood on her thighs and ass, and what looked like cum on her ass, thighs, and face.

“Come on, Georgie. Let’s get you home.” She helped her to stand and led her to the car, which was fortunately parked near the bleachers,   empty at the moment. She drove fast, worrying over her friend.

When they reached her house, Meg ran inside to get Georgie’s parents. Her mom screamed at the sight of her, while her dad started cussing and asking who had done this. Georgie was mute, only staring into space until her dad started talking about calling the police.

“No!” she screamed. “I don’t want anyone to know what happened to me! Just get me in the house!”

There was enough vehemence in her voice that they listened. Her mom covered her in a blanket, and her dad carried inside and up to her room. When she was finally alone, she got into the shower, leaning against the wall and sobbing as the water washed away the evidence of the brutal rape.

When her skin was bright red from the heat of the water, she finally stepped out and got into bed. She didn’t get out of bed the next day, or the next. She stayed in bed all that week, and the next. She didn’t sleep, she didn’t eat. She just stared into space. She seemed in a catatonic state, refusing even to speak to anyone.

Once two weeks of this had gone by, her parents were at their wits’ end. They asked advice and followed the best suggestion: they put Georgie into a mental hospital.

Of course, a few people wondered where Georgie had gone. And then the rumors of her admittance into the loony bin slowly began to circulate, though only one student knew for sure where she was and why she was there.

Greg staggered back into the dance hall, his bloodshot eyes scanning the room for his ‘date.’  She was no where to be seen, so he approached the table where a few of her friends were still sitting.  “Where’ssss Julie?” he asked as he leaned forward on the table.  They registered shock at the sight of him, and the smell … he reeked of alcohol.  “She left … after you disappeared.”  Greg looked angry.  “With that prick Casssey?”  They did not answer, but one of the chaperons saw him and knew he had been drinking.  He lead him out of the dance hall and demanded his car keys.  After initial resistance, he gave them up and was driven home …

His head was splitting when he woke up the next day … and he was filled with feelings of guilt.  He remembered some of what happened, and he knew he had raped Georgie.  He had raped Georgie!  All that day, he was haunted with thoughts of prison … which he deserved.  And he could not get her face out of his mind … poor Georgie!  How could he have done that to her?  What would he say when he saw her?  What could he possibly do to undo what he had done to her?  Monday rolled around and Greg went to school, nervous that he might see her … run into her when he turned a corner.  Every opening door, he expected to see a police officer coming to arrest him … but nothing happened that day … or the next … or that week.

Soon, rumors started to circulate that Georgie had lost her mind … that she had been committed to an insane asylum.  Greg knew why, but he dared say nothing.  He and Randy had already made a pact to never speak of that night.  He never joined in the jokes made at her expense … how she realized how fat and homely she was, and it drove her crazy, and other cruel comments.  But this soon passed as the school year ended and everyone dispersed to their summer vacations …

Greg never saw Georgie again, and soon … as he moved on to college and a respectable life, he forgot about that night and the girl’s life he had ruined.  Nothing was ever said to him, and he eventually blamed Jack Daniels for what he had done to her.  He would never have hurt her if he were sober … and he had been her only friend in school.  Yeah, it was the booze …

I finally got my computer back, and my schedule is loose enough that I can actually roleplay again. I’m very interested in playing in SL Gor again. But all of the cities that were there when I last played have closed. I am certain that I’m not going to play Dear the slave or Dierdre the FW. I’m going to play a new character, probably a Free Woman.

So all that’s left is to decide where. And I’d love to have someone to play with. It’s odd but I feel more nervous about jumping into roleplay now than I did when I was brand new.

Anyway, all suggestions are appreciated.

I have recently been unwillingly running in the same circles as a girl who is owned by a man who used to own me. I’ve been exposed to various comments from her about him, and it bring forth a wealth of emotions.

I don’t remember him any more. I don’t remember what he was like or what our relationship was like. I can’t remember how much I loved him or why I even did. I can only remember how much he hurt me.

I wonder if he has told her the whole truth about himself, the truth he seems to withhold or outright lie about to most people. I wonder if he’s told her about his insane wife, his low self esteem issues or his total disregard for the possibility of being wrong. I wonder if he’s told her that he slept with his father’s wife, his roleplay mother, or that if he gets angry with her, he will throw in her face ever private, hurtful thing she ever shared with him.

In truth, it’s absolutely none of my business. In truth, I still feel bitter, and I hate that. It’s wrong, and I know it is.

This is vastly different from the more recent relationship breakups I have had. I still feel hurt by Hanze, but I know without a doubt that he never meant to hurt me and that he loved me. I still love him, in spite of what happened. I won’t ever be with him, but that’s for the best. There has been real closure there, even if he’s been unwilling to admit to certain things. I suppose this is the difference. Although we aren’t together, he keeps me in his life because I matter to him.

In the other relationship, I was cast aside without a chance to explain. I was called a human toilet. The love and care I felt in that relationship were yanked away so very quickly that I had to question whether it ever existed at all. And I guess that’s why I’m still bitter.

So… any thoughts on how I can let that go?

Trust that rejection–in any form, from anyone–is simply Fate’s way of saying “Careful, kiddo. You were going the wrong way.”

A slave, a true slave, does indeed belong to her Master, but therein lies the great contradiction. A Master’s responsibilities are enormous compared to a slave’s. A true Master owns the very soul of his slave, but it is a gift at a great price: the responsibility to nurture and develop the slave to her greatest potential.