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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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The Free Woman's Lament
by Slave to Magick (magiker@gmail.com)

***

This is just a short little fan-fiction set in the Gor 
world where a Free woman is lamenting not being a 
slave anymore and is fighting between pride of being a 
Free woman and her desire to submit as a slave. More 
psychological than erotic as there is no actual sex in 
this story. (MF, rom, bd, sci-fi)

***

Author Note: This work is a fan-fiction, it is just 
written for my own amusement, it is not meant as an 
infringement of the rights of Mr John Norman over the 
Gor setting. All honor to the man who actually created 
this wonderful setting. I have no rights over it what 
so ever and is just writing a fan-fiction to have fun 
with it.)

***

I bend down at set the finely woven basket full of 
clean clothes on the smooth wooden floor. I had 
created that basket once, my fingers patiently weaving 
the strands of dried grass, forming patters and making 
a tool which would last many years. I open the chest 
where my companion store his clothes and one by one I 
put carefully folded pieces of garment in, all 
lovingly washed and tended, I have applied myself to 
making the clothes as crisp as my free companion like 
them, and I have folded them the way he like them.

For a former slave paying such attention to the cloth 
which will adorn my man's body is one of the few 
things I have left where I can be of service to him. 
Yes I keep his household clean, I put food on his 
table at at times I please him in bed, but while 
washing his clothes it is as if in a small way my 
passionate arms still caress him like they did when I 
belonged to him.

As I put away clothes my fingers meet metal, the 
coldness of steel is like a shock against my warm 
fingertips. Trembling I lift out the slender ring of 
steel which once adorned my neck. Emotions overwhelm 
me and I have to sit down on the sort bundle of hay 
and furs which serve as our bed. Once this pale, 
silvery, gray circle was the symbol of my enslavement. 
The collar still bears the engraving; "I belong to The 
man of the Warrior Caste." I close my eyes and feel 
tears run down my chin, there had been many years 
since I had worn this piece of steel. 

Lovingly I run my fingers over the collar's smooth 
surface, here and thee I can feel the tiny bit of 
unevenness where the metal worker who created this put 
his tools, little reminders that here on Gor things 
are created by the loving labor of skilled men and 
women and not by factories and machines. As I hold the 
collar I cannot help but long for the wild passion of 
making love to my Master, the burning desire to please 
him and the fear of the whip. Theman freed me, made me 
his companion, but inside of my body a slave heart 
still beats.

I know I am being both foolish and ungrateful, I have 
been granted the honor of sitting by Theman's side, to 
be his confidant, his friend and the mistress of his 
house, if we had lived on Earth I would be his wife. 
Now men show me respect when I walk outside in my 
robes and veils, when I enter a room they stand and 
when they glance at me they see their mother, their 
sisters and their daughters, if I ever stumble on the 
road or any danger befall me, free men are gallant 
enough to step in and help me, I am a free woman of 
Gor, a gem, priceless I am told, as opposed to this 
when I was a slave more often than not when I waled 
into a room the men did not even acknowledge that I 
was there, if I opened my moth it was as likely to be 
slapped or filled with cock than listened to, I was a 
pet, property just a slave girl. 

I close my eyes and shake my head, what a fool woman I 
am, for I would gladly trade all those nods of 
respect, men pulling out my chair for me and the title 
of Lady to be forced to the floor and be used and 
abused again, and even more so I would trade all I had 
to be owned again, to be bound by my Master's will, I 
long to again be property, to a time when the only 
important thing in my existence was pleasing my 
Master, back then Theron was my single point of focus, 
he was my world, my reason for being, his discipline 
and mastery over me where my soul.

With a sigh I stand and put the collar back into the 
chest. Slowly I pick up the laundry basket and 
continue my task of putting my companion's clothing 
away. I was indeed both foolish and selfish. I longed 
to again feel the discipline of slavery, however I had 
been given the gift of freedom from the man I love. I 
had been given the right to accept or refuse his 
companionship, to love him or not. 

Theman wanted me as a companion, he needed a woman to 
sit by his side and not at his feet and then it do not 
matter what I wish or what I long for. Yes now I have 
a choice and I choose to serve the man I love. As long 
as Theman wants a free companion I will be that 
companion, I might still long for slavery, but I will 
suppress those desires, I was born to serve the needs 
of my man, and serve him I will no matter what role he 
want me in. 

One day Theman perhaps will enslave me again, or 
perhaps he will decide to buy another woman to ravage 
in bed and leave me a companion. Like a willow tree I 
will bend and shape myself after the strong winds 
which is my man's desires. I slowly stand having 
finished my task and smiles slightly to myself. In a 
way I am still a slave, I am still serving the man I 
love just in a different way, where I once served him 
as slut I now serve him as wife. 

With a content smile on my lips I step over the floor 
(my man have carved with his own hands) towards the 
kitchen. I might have exchanged a collar for the robes 
of concealment, but I was still a woman in service, in 
service for love.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 77