Book 30. (7 results) Mariners of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 20 | 254 | Who was master, who was slave? Was nature to be denied? What of my feelings, my needs? Was I to pretend to be a man, in which sorry pretense I must fail, or should I listen to my heart, and acknowledge my difference? Nay, not only acknowledge this difference, but welcome it, celebrate it, acclaim it, rejoice in it! Is it not as meaningful, as glorious, as right, to be a slave as a master? Is one truly better than the other? Does the slave not need the master, and the master the slave? Is not each incomplete without the other? Of course, I tried to be as a man! I tried to live that mockery, that stunting lie. |
| 20 | 255 | I sought to stand against them, rather than kneel gratefully at their feet! I flung myself, with like-minded women, into the games of power, exploiting my liberty to narrow and circumscribe that of men. |
| 20 | 256 | How I thought I hated them, while I really wanted to be put in their chains. |
| 20 | 257 | I used my sex, as I could, bestowing cordialities, hinting at favors, to influence men who, entrapped in the conventions of the cities, refrained from tearing away my veils and robes and putting me, as I deserved, in the bracelets of a slave. |
| 20 | 258 | How natural then that they should seek the beauties of the paga taverns, that they should raid far cities to bring back women, much as I, naked, in coffles. |
| 20 | 259 | How I, and my kind, hated slaves, women in their fitting place in nature, who, in radiance, and contentment, so joyful, were fulfilled by masters! How we envied those degraded, pathetic, despicable things in their tiny tunics, their bodies so bared, and collars, so unslippable, so closely encircling their throats, their thighs marked, as the animals they were, that all would recognize them as the properties of men. |
| 20 | 260 | How cruel I was to my own slaves, making them suffer in proxy for my own self-hatred. |
 |
Who was master, who was slave? Was nature to be denied? What of my feelings, my needs? Was I to pretend to be a man, in which sorry pretense I must fail, or should I listen to my heart, and acknowledge my difference? Nay, not only acknowledge this difference, but welcome it, celebrate it, acclaim it, rejoice in it! Is it not as meaningful, as glorious, as right, to be a slave as a master? Is one truly better than the other? Does the slave not need the master, and the master the slave? Is not each incomplete without the other? Of course, I tried to be as a man! I tried to live that mockery, that stunting lie.
I sought to stand against them, rather than kneel gratefully at their feet! I flung myself, with like-minded women, into the games of power, exploiting my liberty to narrow and circumscribe that of men.
How I thought I hated them, while I really wanted to be put in their chains.
I used my sex, as I could, bestowing cordialities, hinting at favors, to influence men who, entrapped in the conventions of the cities, refrained from tearing away my veils and robes and putting me, as I deserved, in the bracelets of a slave.
How natural then that they should seek the beauties of the paga taverns, that they should raid far cities to bring back women, much as I, naked, in coffles.
How I, and my kind, hated slaves, women in their fitting place in nature, who, in radiance, and contentment, so joyful, were fulfilled by masters! How we envied those degraded, pathetic, despicable things in their tiny tunics, their bodies so bared, and collars, so unslippable, so closely encircling their throats, their thighs marked, as the animals they were, that all would recognize them as the properties of men.
How cruel I was to my own slaves, making them suffer in proxy for my own self-hatred.
- (Mariners of Gor, Chapter )