I am a ko-lared slave, you see.
A princess tried and true.
I have heat serving paga,
and no one beats my nadu.

So imagine my surprise one day,
when Master called me near,
and said, "Meet your new chain sister":
I shed a bitter tear.

I met the girl and hated her,
wished she’d leave my sight.
I snarled at her white, perky breasts
and sighs of pure delight.

Kill the girl, that’s what I’d do!
Or put her in disgrace.
Make Master hate this brand new girl,
and set me in her place.

I was careful, yes siree,
and never let a soul
see past my perfect slavey shell,
my heart of blackest coal.

And so I started my campaign,
waged my little war.
Started telling my Gorean man,
that his girl was a bore.

I sighed and sulked and pouted
’till I was asked "what’s wrong?"
I began by sighing "nothing",
but soon I would sing my song.

I whined about this brand new girl,
how she didn’t she-sleen right.
That she didn’t know the simplest things
like burning tharlarlion oil for light.

She does not shift or twitter.
Never writhes upon the sands.
She does not press a goblet close,
in flawless tiny hands!

So what if she is happy and able,
willing and so cheerful?
If you lean in closer girls,
I’ll give you all an earful!

So what if she trips over herself,
being of use to Master?
She has no style, nor any flair
Her scripts are a disaster.

It only took a few short days
for word to get around.
Master came in looking thunderous;
and glared us to the ground.

With his first words to us both
I felt my heart take flight.
then he turned to all in channel
and said with all his might:

"This girl has hateful ways, that have come to my attention.
Though she seemed so perfect, her ego’s beyond mention.
She has not learned (he told them all),
any more than simple typing,
describing perfect serves, positions and the art of griping."

"She is nothing but a bratty girl.
Worse than any Kur.
And she thinks no one knows this,
’cause she knows how to fur."

I sat there smiling sweetly,
knowing sissy was dead meat.
Watched Master come right over and
pull ME to my feet.

Shock, surprise and horror washed through my whole pert frame.
>From tiny toes to glorious hair, I glowed deep red in shame.
Deep in my gut, with twists and turns I felt the coil of fear.
My plan to rid myself of her had fallen out of gear!

I begged, I pleaded, and I cried.
Promised to mend my ways.
I swore I would do all my penance
(even if it took days).

I sat there tearing prettily,
waiting for Master’s pat.
I am sure you can see my surprise,
when he handed me my hat.

He kicked me out, that rotten man!
Tossed away his true slave treasure.
And then that rotten S.O.B.,
tacked a ban on for good measure.

He messaged me with his last words
(now I am on ignore),
He told me I should try
and learn the "philosophies" of Gor.

I smiled and I agreed with him
(just trying to be nice),
And then went out and got the books
and read them once or twice.

And yes, I learned, I surely did
throughout my long endeavor.
I won’t end up like Elinor.
Next time I’ll be more clever.

One wishes the Masters and Mistresses well,
one wishes the slaves well

kessia{Sage}