Outcasts from society?
   By Jon`

One challenge that is often debated is how does being Gorean fit with living in a modern western society. In fact it has recently been stated that Goreans must be outcasts from society, a statement that set me to thinking. Do we, as Goreans make it harder for ourselves to be accepted? Accepted you may ask? It is, I have found, quite possible to live by the Gorean philosophy and to be accepted with society as a whole.

To be Gorean in a modern society it requires one to accept that there will be ?restrictions? on our actions. The belief exists that to be Gorean means doing as one wants whenever one wants, that only ("In the codes of the warriors, there is a saying; ’Be strong, and do as you will. The swords of others will set you your limits.’ Marauders of Gor, page 10.) The way this quote is most often interpreted is to provide a basis for anarchistic behaviour. That kind of behaviour pattern would make Goreans outcasts in modern society, but is it a behaviour pattern that is valid? Since Hammarabi first codified a set of laws, man has lived within a structure of order (though I will admit not always in agreement.) The philosophy that we subscribe to is not anything new; it did not magically spring into being in December 1966 when John Norman published Tarnsman of Gor. People have lived by what is essentially what we label Gorean philosophy throughout the ages and have managed to exist within their societies (and even lead them.) But that is within an ?ancient? society, we dwell in a modern industrial society. Surely the differences make it impossible to be part of such a perverse society?

It is true that our modern society is different than societies has been in the past. The lowest common denominator is worshipped in modern society; the idea that we are all equal to each other is King. How can we be Gorean within such a structure? Quite simply really if we understand that society is driven by the voices within the society. The voices within our society have driven the equality of all over the last century and the rising volume has drowned the voices that sit counter to it out. Has that volume reached the point that it has overwhelmed those who do not agree with the current agenda? If we outcast ourselves it would seem to show that we have been overwhelmed and given up. Outcast ourselves? Yes, as truly we are the only ones who can determine our status within society. Society cannot outcast us, drive us out, can it? Society can ostracize us for sure for our beliefs and humans are so expert at ostracizing people with differing beliefs (take for example the Unionists and the Catholics in Northern Ireland.)

Can a Gorean really be driven away (outcast) from anything? By other Goreans perhaps, but by society? A Gorean may walk away from something but he does so of his own freewill, so he chooses himself to be an ?outcast.? By removing himself from society what would a Gorean hope to gain? We cannot truly remove ourselves from all influences of society so walking away does not gain much at all (if anything.) Turning one?s back on such things as society does not make it go away, so self-exile would then seem to be denial. Denial does not bring about change; denial does not make things better. What makes things better is to face up to a problem, to stand toe to toe with it. Is sticking ones head in the sand a Gorean trait? Arguable, but is it a trait of strength? No. Strength is standing up to adversity; it is not allowing others to force one into seclusion.

By being different than society as a whole and by refusing to see myself as an outcast I can safely say I have benefited my position. I will also be so arrogant as to say it has benefited others. By seeing the strength, the confidence that a Gorean living by their beliefs exudes others are inspired. They are inspired to look within themselves and to look at the society they live in. If we desire change in society we have to facilitate that change and as ?outcasts? we cannot do that.

Food for thought I hope. I wish you well.

There are precious few of us amongst society who live by the Gorean philosophy

TALES OF GOR - #5
   By Mara

With great appreciation to John Norman for the rich world he created.

"Let go of my bridle," I demanded, as I tugged on my reins, causing the spirited little hunting tharlarion I rode to toss her head and sidle side ways.

"Don’t go," Trajan repeated for the umpteenth time.

"I’m only going for a short ride, I’ll be back in less than two ahn," I said, getting more and more exasperated as the tharlarion danced beneath me and my stubborn soon-to-be Free Companion continued to hold my bridle.

"You know I can’t leave right now," he said. "Wait an ahn, and I’ll go with you."

I smiled, trying a different tact. "I’ve been riding around here since I was a little girl. I’ll be fine," I reassured him.

"You’ll do as I say," he informed me, his jaw clenched.

That tore it. I dug my heels into the tharlarion’s side and the powerful animal jerked the bridle from his hand. I barely kept my seat as my tharlarion bolted forward with a fierce spring. I could hear Trajan swearing and I laughed as I raced for the open field and the trees beyond. I only reined in as I neared the trees. The well trained animal responded to my commands and slowed to a manageable speed as I ducked under some low branches. I finally slowed to a walk, and patted the animals scaly neck.

"Good girl," I praised. "We showed him." She moved her head in the bird like fashion of her kind. It seemed she was in agreement with me, and I laughed again. I felt exhilarated from the run and light hearted. I broke from the trees into the open, stopping to enjoy the sun on my face. The tharlarion looked around and blinked, as if to ask why would we stop here, but I pat her reassuringly. I closed my eyes, turning my face up to the sun, but opened them and turned in the saddle when I heard a noise behind me. A man on a larger, much more fierce looking tharlarion came out of the trees. He looked tall and strong, even the great size of the tharlarion he rode did not diminish him. He wore a plain tunic and was armed with both a sword and a bow. I didn’t recognize him and had the sudden intuition that I didn’t want to make his acquaintance. I kicked my tharlarion and she shot forward toward the trees on the other side of the field. I could hear him begin pursuit behind me, but didn’t look back. My tharlarion was swift, but would surely be run down by the man’s larger mount if we remained in the open. The trees were nearly a pasang away and I knew the man gained on me. I urged my tharlarion faster, but she was already going full out. I saw the wicked looking head of the man’s tharlarion come even with me and the next thing I knew I was yanked from my saddle with an ease that terrified me. I felt stunned for a moment, then I began to struggle wildly, twisting and kicking. My arms were pinned by his, but my legs were free and I kicked in desperation, my heels hitting his legs and tharlarion. His tharlarion jumped and spun, but the hold on me didn’t lessen. The arms around me felt like steel bands and they hurt me like I was in a vise. Unable to breathe and blinded with the pain I stopped struggling. The man turned his attention to his mount and his arms loosened slightly. I gasped for air, dragging it into my lungs. His tharlarion again under control he circled back, easily catching my own mount. He slowed to a walk and I looked back over my shoulder at him. His looks weren’t reassuring. He had eyes so brown they were nearly black. They reminded me of a tarns; fierce, and focused on the world with the intensity of a predator. I panicked and sprang forward against his arms. He swore violently and yanked me back. His hands caught my wrist and pulled my arms behind me, bending both arms up high against my back. I screamed in agony, my head thrown back and my teeth gritted. He held me that way for what couldn’t have been more than five ehn, but felt like an eternity, before he eased back a bit. I slumped forward, totally defeated. He laughed, and I trembled, my arms still held behind me. I feared to move, not wanting a repeat of the excruciating pain.

"You learn slow," he said. I felt cold metal snap around my wrist. The scarf of my riding costume was jerked from my neck and I heard it ripped. He shoved a piece in my mouth and ran a torn strip deep between my teeth and tied it off behind my head. A light blanket went over my head and he secured it with another strip of cloth. I panted and trembled, unable even to plead with him. I could not stop the small sounds of the fear that escaped me.

"Shhhhhh, easy little kajira," he crooned in my ear.

He sounded like he was trying to calm a small frightened animal, but being addressed as a slave wasn’t exactly comforting and I moaned behind my gag.

The man gathered himself and kicked his tharlarion. It bounded off and I felt myself being carried off to I knew not where. We rode for ahn, the blanket nearly suffocating me. When we finally stopped he slid from the saddle and I felt myself laid upon the ground. I could hear him moving about, undoubtedly tending his tharlarion and making camp. My hands manacled behind me and unable to see for the cloth, I didn’t try to move, only drawing up my knees in misery. I tensed when I heard him approach. He unwound the cloth from my head and I blinked my eyes, trying to make out where we were in the darkness that had fallen. The gag was untied and I pushed the scarf from my mouth with my tongue.

I moved my cramped jaw and spoke in a hoarse voice. "My......my family will ransom me."

He didn’t speak, but thrust a water flask to my lips. I drank greedily, some of it ran down my chin and wet my tunic. He set the flask aside then brought his hand to my chin, turning my head back and forth as he studied me. My eyes had adjusted to the dim light and I watched him as he inspected me. His hands on me were firm, but he hadn’t hurt me since I’d stopped fighting him, and I willed myself to swallow my panic as he tugged at my clothes. My riding boots came off, then the hose, finally the tunic gave way with a rip.

"I....I will bring a high ransom," I tried again.

"You’ll bring a high price," he said, with a smile, as he eyed my naked form with satisfaction.

"Surely you can get more for........" My words were cut off as he laid two fingers over my lips.

I closed my eyes in anguish. A ransom would be a drawn out process, fraught with danger and difficulty. He, a simple brigand or opportunist, would take a quick profit. My only hope was that whoever he sold me to might be more interested in the rewards of collecting a ransom.

He roughly threw me to my stomach and unlocked the bracelets. My cramped arms came forward and I felt a mixture of pain and relief as circulation returned. Just as the pain lessened he pulled me up by my hair and dragged me along to beneath a tree where he shoved me to my knees. I watched in dread as he took a length of rope from his belt.

"Give me your hands," he ordered, and I reluctantly extended my arms, wrist crossed, as I’d seen slaves do. He quickly bound my wrist then threw one end of the rope over a branch and pulled on the rope until my hands were pulled over my head as I knelt. He then wrapped the rope around the trunk and tied it off on the far side.

I stared at him wide eyed. I could, of course, stand up, but didn’t dare do so. He looked quite pleased with himself as he took a step toward me, but then he stopped and his head jerked around. Not 20 feet away stood Trajan with a bared sword in his hand. My heart jumped with elation. I remembered what a superb tracker he was. I’d been with him hunting and seen him follow trails that I’d found invisible. He must have tethered his tharlarion to scout the camp. He strode forward, not even sparing me a glance. My captor stumbled backward as he drew his own sword. Steel rang as Trajan brought his sword down with a vengeance. My captor continued his backward movement, clearly out matched in the controlled fury of his opponent’s attack. The man had a look of shocked surprise as Trajan’s blade slashed at his eyes, sweeping aside his guard, then turned and cut back. The razor sharp steel sliced into his jugular and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. With a cry of savage elation Trajan kicked the man’s body to it’s back. He stood there a moment, breathing heavily, then wiped his bloody sword on the man’s tunic before slowly turning to face me.

I felt numb, having just watched a man die. To weak to kneel straight, let alone stand, I sagged forward, and my bound hands took my weight.

Trajan approached me, and even in the moon light I could see blood on his arms and tunic. "You’re....you’re hurt," I gasp.

"It’s not my blood," Trajan said, in a flat voice.

He stood before me, his expression unreadable. With a fierce gesture he buried his sword to the hilt in the ground. The violence of only a few ehn before seemed to cling to him and I shrank back as far as my bound hands would allow.

He went behind me and placed his powerful hands over my fragile small ones. I thought he would untie me, but then his hands moved over my bound wrist and down my arms to the damp heat under my arms. He knelt behind me, his hands sliding down my sides to my hips then back up and around to cup my breast.

"Trajan," I gasped, "Please.....don’t. Please untie me."

His hand came up and covered my mouth. "Be quiet woman," his husky voice whispered in my ear.

I quivered and didn’t dare speak when his hand left my mouth and lingered on the fragile column of my neck.

"You disobeyed me, riding off," he said, as his fingers stroked the frantically beating pulse point in my neck. "I’m going to beat you for that....at my leisure, when I have you safe," he promised.

I moaned, knowing he meant it by the tone of his voice, and the way his hands stroked over me possessively. His palms slid over my breast, kneading and rubbing, and I arched back against him. My body knew how to appease him even if the turmoil that was my mind did not. It knew how to show him on the most basic level that I would willing give him what he demanded. He adjusted his clothing and I felt his flesh on mine as he pulled me back up onto his lap. I could feel the steel cords in his thighs move as he used his powerful legs to impatiently spread mine even further. We both breathed in ragged gasp, and I could feel his hot breath as he rubbed his face against the side of my head and hair. His body found mine and a cry escaped me as he pulled me fully to him. What started as pain, soon became unbearable pleasure as his body moved in mine, and I cried out again as I found a sweet relief. His arms tightened around me as his body stiffened. I could feel his own release deep inside me.

I was so limp that when he let me go and stood up I fell forward, all my weight on my bound wrist as they stretched over my head. Trajan quickly untied me and eased me to the ground.

"We’ll say the Companion vows within the week," he said, as his hands lingered on my body. "I may have given you a child," he added, as if to stop any argument I might have.

I could only nod in agreement, willing to promise him anything he wanted.

He moved around the camp, gathering up mine and the dead man’s tharlarion before returning to me.

"We must go," he said, as he handed me a blanket to wrap about myself.

I tried to stand, but my legs gave way and he swept me into his arms with a laugh, carrying me into the darkness where he’d tethered his tharlarion. I could only lay my head on his shoulder, knowing my fate was in his hands, but not truly upset at the thought. He lifted me onto his tharlarion, mounted behind me and we headed to home. A place and life I thought had been lost to me. Home.

Mara
marascribe@hotmail.com