Girls and boys sports teams were being consolidated. Girls were asking boys to dances and parties; they were dictating sex, love, affection. Boys ran around trying to cater to the whims of the females, desperately trying to win their attention and in the process becoming weaker, malleable, and transparent. As the girls grew into women, who were thoroughly reveling in their generational power, they learned to use their prowess to control the men who, through our new society, were to them their equals, even, subordinates. When this slave was a little girl, we were not just exploring the idea that we were the equals of males, instead we were taught it from the ground up. It was never a question for us - it was a Truth, capital T. Women of Earth, today, are free to do anything they wish, except give up those freedoms.
Though while this girl sat in those classrooms, learning and documenting all the glorious freedoms won for women in decades gone, she still did not feel free. So she began to wonder - what is the nature of my freedom? As she grew she began to have fantasies and dreams, oddly, only rarely sexual, of strong Men to control her with just a look, word, or gesture. To a budding woman of the nineties, these were scandalous at best. They bothered her.
And they only continued to digress from what she learned in books and classrooms. College offered her little solace. Many new ideas opened up in the great world of academia - schools of thought that denounced the norms of society or subverted dominant paradigms were suddenly not only allowed but encouraged, nurtured, and prized. Yet still, the steadfast demand that women be the equals of Men held. she went to the bars like all college students do, and to the parties and the lectures and forums. All around her she saw people opened to life and thought, yet still practicing those same silly rituals that we all did as boys and girls. Men coddling the women, all but begging for their attentions and affections. Women decided everything in dealings, relationships, even one night stands. this girl played the game as well. It was fun for a time, amusing to watch men all but drool for your pretty smile or a sexy young body. And the girls laughed and toasted to their freedoms.
But issy looked around hard. she found that same question in her mind - what is the true nature of this freedom? If we are so free, then why are we so constantly unhappy? One week, for her freshman contemporary literature course, she read “Fight Club,” (and for Tthose of Yyou Wwho have only seen the movie, Yyou really ought to read the book - Goreans would identify with this work better than anyone), a novel which explores and addresses this girl’s generation’s very problem - the feminization of the male gender! And, consequently, the masculinization of the female one. Those dreams that assailed her came flooding back, and instead of denouncing them, she began to examine them instead.
she was unhappy because she didn’t feel free. Here she had all these glorious opportunities, her mother told her, and she didn’t want them. she found she ached for that one freedom that society now denied her - to give up her will to the will of Men. she found BDSM, and was a submissive for a while. It was better, but not completion. she longed for something more, and found Gor soon after. When she first heard the word ‘kajira’ it meant little to her. But in not much time, and forever after, the simple word spoke volumes to her soul each time it was spoken.
As a kajira she found herself surrounded by Men Who demanded everything of her, Who would accept nothing less than her absolute obedience, her complete and perfect submission, beauty, grace, and pleasure. And in return she found herself finally free. she was suddenly a woman, not constantly struggling to fit into the world of Men, to not just be their equals but to virtually be one of them. this girl looks around now at beautiful, graceful, intelligent women, and pictures them in their rightful place, on their knees at the feet of a strong Man, their necks trapped in steel collars…. And they are instantly twice as beautiful. a girl is finally able to speak proudly, that she believes it the place of the majority of women, to serve at the feet of Masters.
her freedom is in her expression, her ability to be at the mercy of her belly, kindled and lit by Masters. her freedom is in being true to her nature, and letting it exude from her every breath and motion without fear of disdain or disgust. Now her longings are no longer for some nebulous fantasy or ideal, she no longer strains against the bonds of society, but is comfortable in the bonds of Ownership. she is no longer in control - she is controlled, she is owned, but she is free. It is the timeless, parallel, and paradoxical truth of the female slave.
we use the word ‘belly’ constantly. But how many of us have actually stopped to consider why? Perhaps it is because it is as close as we can come to fathoming the core of the girl. we search for some word, some part, that begins to describe that pit wedged deep within the soul that, upon illumination, forever guides and directs us. we long for some word, some way to explain the way it feels to want to please with every cell in your body from fingertips to toes. we ache for some measure of a word to communicate what washes over us when we are reminded, by a look or the touch of the collar at our throats, that we are mere property of the Free. we desperately search for a word powerful enough that it will somehow convey the consuming depths in which our minds and bodies despair when we are found displeasing. we look for any word in any language and any genre, to put a point on how whole surrender is when the mere whim of the Free you serve becomes your highest law, and you would do anything, betray any part of your naked soul, to satisfy that whim. we use ‘belly’ because it comes as close as we will get to the nucleus of the soul, the foundation of the body, the essence of the slave. What does it mean to this girl to be a kajira? What does it mean to *be*, for that matter? It is who she is, simply. It means she strives every moment of every day to be worthy of the collar that frees her. It means that every breath and heartbeat is lived with gratefulness for being permitted to serve as slave, because the simplest pleasure she could bring to the Free Who protect her, guide her, grant her life, fills her heart with more joy than any amount of power she could hold over the men of Earth.
A girl knows that it does *not* mean giving up your personality. kajirae are indeed property, and numerous. they may be bought and sold as any possession, and there are conventions to which to conform and lessons that each girl must learn. But it does not mean fitting into a mold, or becoming something you are not. Rough edges are smoothed (to borrow a term from a Friend), thorns are plucked away, manners are learned and ideals instilled. But the Free do not wish for slaves to be identical. What would be pleasing about that?! Each girl brings her own passions and her own knowledge to her slavery. The condition is the same. Property. But the path to that condition is as unique as each girl who takes the first step down it.
It means to BE, with all the intensity and fire for which the human soul has potential. It is to surrender, not only to the Free, but to oneself. To refuse to exist on the mundane even keel of much of the rest of the world, and to give in to all the ferocity of passion that exists in the heart of a slavegirl, helpless in her desire to please. It is to live the feminine and to belong, body, mind, and soul, to unyielding Men, and to be obedient to Their Will not only because it is right and her place but because it fills her heart with happiness and contentment to do so. And this girl is proud to call herself kajira, when to be one is to be honest and true, open and expressive, to be free of excuses, deceptions, and escapes. It is to know the depths of wrenching ache when you make a mistake, and the heights of brilliant elation upon which you are set to soar with the smallest gesture of approval, to, often within the same breath, understand the spectra of human emotion. But it is to have the freedom to BE, wholly, fully, beautifully, alive and vibrant; to embrace and embody lust, heat, beauty, intelligence, strength, patience, love, and life with the unique grace of a woman in her element.
