I loved reading the Gor books written by John Norman, and got myself a Gorean Collar for my girls to play with.
There is so much to Gor, and it’s influence on B.D.S.M. Culture. To be a Gorean slave, Master or Mistress is a real life style for many. I used to role play, and through this I got to meet some submissive women, and some women not so sure.
It was this latter group which I found most intriguing.
On Gor (a planet like earth but always the other side of the sun, hidden from us) lives a warrior race. Brutal, but beautiful. They come to our world sometimes, to snatch a suitable girl, to take and train, as a pleasure girl or a red silk. Girls like these are spanked or worse if they disobey the slightest rule. There is a code of conduct for all casts. Slave girls have to learn many positions. I will photograph my girls in such positions.
The ideal slave girl for a Gorean Warrior was a girl from earth, a haughty girl, who thought a lot of herself. A successful business woman, a feminist.
But for now let’s concentrate on the collar. It is the most important thing of all….
It amazes me just how much a woman changes when you put them in a collar. Let Lucy demonstrate. In this set of photos she is to play the part of a client coming to my studio. To explore Gor
For many years, as well as writing about, videoing and photographing spanking, I have run a spanking service. A place where naughty girls in need can come in complete safety and secrecy to act out a roll. Not hundreds, but a lot have been through my doors.
We sit, drink tea, and talk. Sometimes at a first visit, that is all we do. Most want two things, either to atone a past misdeed, or to role play a naughty girl.
But one day a girl came, and said she had read my articles on Gor. (On my tumblr blog) That girl became my slave girl a while. She has gone now, Ella was her slave name. You never use their real name.
She was a successful business woman in a suit. A haughty young madam, a feminist too. Very pretty and around the age of 40.
Our whole first meeting was talking, but on her second, I put on her collar. She was now ‘Property of Asa Jones’
The change was instant, tangible. The cold steel, on a leash, has an amazing effect on a woman of this type. They deny it, they refuse to accept it.
But…they need it.
And once in it, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, ….1 We have lift off!
Immediately, she became very calm and quiet, and totally obedient. She had spent the last ten year as a high level manager, telling people what to do, even making people redundant. Yet, within seconds she wanted the exact opposite. To do exactly as she was told, instantly.
I told her to crawl to the cross. I threaded some red ribbon around a metal loop, and onto her collar. She obeyed, deliciously.
She moved like a big cat, lithe and supple…
To pull herself up to it.
Resting on a small bench at the base of the cross and to a rack at the side, was an assortment of punishment implements. I told her to choose one, and without words show me where she wanted it. She did so.
I told her to position herself for a thrashing, as a demonstration of what would happen if she ever dared to disobey me.
I thrashed her long and hard, she squealed, screamed and writhed. Her bottom was ablaze when I had finished.
Then, she cried.
No, not pain…
No, not pain. She had found a place to be where her inner soul had yearned to be for years, a safe haven away from the world of business and all it entails. After years of searching, and failed relationships she had found what she wanted, and craved… A Master.
She came for a long time, until she moved a long way away. Now, she comes just once or twice a year.
My slave girl, my dirty little bitch, who obeys my every, EVERY command.