Simplicity

"You are Gorean. Be Gorean." I told her.

It is simple, really. For all the intelligence, claims of 'genius' on two worlds, the Lady Jenny loses sight of that all too easily. She is not alone. Others who share her origin find themselves floundering from time to time. I possess enough of The Second Knowledge to recognize the transition is one of fantastic proportions. We ask these women to undo an entire childhood and the lessons of young adulthood in an instant. Some are literally killed, culled from existence for merely hesitating. They are instilled with personhood, a sense of equality (real or imagined) and entitlement from birth and we deny these things to them the moment they are acquired. You can be President, women of the United States are told though, to my knowledge, no woman of the United States has ever been President, the leader of that city-state and, purportedly, their free world. At what point does nurture completely undo nature? Does it ever? I see Joy from time to time staring at nothing, comtemplating her existence, her place, the ever-evolving storyline of her fate. She is no fallen leaf, twisting in the breeze, but neither is she the architect of her own destiny as she could have been on Earth. She was guilty of matching the dimensions, coloring, attitude and mien of a fellow wealthy enough to special order what he wanted from that sister planet opposite Gor behind our shared, yellow sun. I wanted her from the first moment I saw her. Eventually, when propriety ceased to matter to me, I took her. It is my right as a man. My instinct. I did not ask what she thought of the notion. The larl will not ask the tabuk if it has time in its schedule to be devoured. It simply devours the tabuk at its leisure. Few women, once deemed worthy of being made slave, are long for the life of robes and veils, of civilized courtship, of respectable status. If a woman native to my world cannot stay the execution of her dignity, what chance does the Earth Girl have?

While I empathize the plight of the Earth Girl, it is not to such a level that I think they should be pitied. Brought to Gor, they have been given the opportunity to fulfill their destiny. Perhaps not what they envisioned as their personal destiny. No, far from it. I speak of grander things. I speak of their destiny as women. Their collective destiny. My world is not mechanized or 'civilized' to the point of removing the teeth and testicles from the beasts that roam our unchecked woods. There is danger. Magnificent danger from all corners. Cities are walled on my world. Nature knows no such bounds here. This speaks to the survival instinct of the fairer and often frailer of the sexes, the female. They are driven, compelled by inner forces to their knees before the men who might protect them, safeguard them from harm. This is not to say that women are useless, weak hangers on in the grand design of humanity. Far from it. They are the spoils of conquest, the reward of manhood. They are our respite and our joy. Their adoration fuels our ego, confirms our purpose, our own evolutionary mandate. They are worthy of our excitement, our pleasure and our rape. Their love and devotion, their very being, the scent of them in our nostrils is the kindling that stokes our ovens.

How terrifying this must be to the Earth Girl who, heretofore, has known no such expectation. Her world was satisfied with the minimum requirement. Her very existence, her personhood, was enough. It is not enough here. We do not expect her to be a person. We expect her to be a woman. Whether we love them as slaves or tolerate them as the bearer of our sons, we expect them to be women.

It is simple, really.