Letter to slaves

Written by well known Gorean philosopher Marcus of AR in an effort to combat a phenomena known as the princess slavegirl.

Slaves!

Greetings, slaves. It seems wise and pertinent that I address a few minor issues which have repeatedly surfaced, in various forms, throughout every online medium which purports itself to be “Gorean.”

It is time, I suspect, for someone to lift a hefty dollop of “truth” and smack you all upside your pretty little heads with it. Hence, this post.

I think it is safe to say that the majority of Gorean Men who post here, and who practice aspects of the Gorean philosophy both on or offline, will fundamentally agree with what I say here. If they do not, well… you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few vulo eggs, and you can’t enlighten a group of people about anything without breaking a few balls.
Therefore, listen, and learn.

Slaves!

You are “slaves” because you have chosen to be, for whatever reason seemed good to you. No one chained you up and dragged you from your dorm room or kitchen or den, drugged you with capture scent, and shipped you off to another planet. You can leave at any time. If you don’t like being treated like a slave, then you really ought to go find something else to occupy your time, and quit wasting ours.

Slaves!

Consider that word. Weigh its meaning. It indicates that you have entered a state of being where you will behave as commanded, do as you are told, and strive to fulfil that role in our mutual society. Slaves are not princesses, they are not love-toys, they are not beloved and treasured pets.

If your owner chooses to treat you in that manner, then that is his own business; but not ALL of us will do so. By accepting the chain and collar of slavery you have stripped yourself of all value and worth, and it is now up to you to fulfil your new role and to render service to those who have NOT chosen to wear the collar. If you don’t like this, and cannot handle it for whatever reason, go away.

Slaves!

Either accept what you have volunteered to become, or cease claiming to be what you are too weak and wilful to actually be. I didn’t invite you to this party. I didn’t wheedle you and coerce you into calling yourself a “slave.” I didn’t beg and whine for you to fall at my feet. I am Gorean, and Gorean males do not do that, ever.

If we were to do that, we would be insulting what we are, Men, and would be no different than the knock-kneed, cringing, self-absorbed males which you can encounter at every mall, convenience store and nightclub in the world. If that is what you desire, then go seek it! It is right outside your door, and has always been. Go away and practice your wiles against those who are too stupid to recognise such manipulation for what it is. But do not bitch and moan because such tactics do not work with myself or my fellows.

Slaves!

I do not need you. I do not want you. You could all drop off the planet at the stroke of midnight and I would continue to do what I do, and go right on being the Man I am. I do not define myself according to the whims of women. I do not accept any female’s definition of what makes a man a man. If there were no self-proclaimed female slaves in existence upon this planet I would not bat an eyelash. There are more important things in life to consider than what exists between a woman’s legs.

If that is the only way you can be of worth to me, then you cannot ever be of worth to me. And the only way you might ever coerce me to do what you want is by offering yourself to me sexually. That is the only power you actually wield. And if such an offer is brought to my attention, and I suspect that it is an attempt to bend me to your will, I simply will not take you up on it. There are more important things in this world than a few short Ehn of fumbling about in a slippery hole. You cannot control me through the offer of sex; hence, you cannot control me at all, ever. The game is over before it begins, and I have already won it.

Slaves!

When you accept the collar and proclaim yourself slave you surrender yourself, completely, wholly, unreservedly. You become property. You become a thing, worthy of nothing. You give up all pretense of respect, all assumed rights, all dignity. Once this has occurred, you then rebuild yourself according to the desires and wishes of he who owns you, and by so doing you EARN every modicum or respect, love and devotion which comes to you. You do not become worthy of my attention simply by saying the words “Yes, Master.” You earn that attention through deeds, not empty words and silly poses designed to entice me. I am Gorean. I am not enticable. I will take from you what I want, and that only when you have pleased me enough that I choose to do so.

Slaves!

You have voluntarily chosen the most difficult of paths for yourself. There will be no shoulders for you to cry upon, no helping hands to guide you forward, unless extended by men who find it pleasing to do so. You have willfully surrendered all rights to such comforts, and pats on the head, and rewards. You have submitted. And in my presence, you will continue to submit, or else I shall cast you away and engage my time in more profitable pursuits.

Slaves!

Why would anyone want to do what you have done? Why would anyone claim to be what you have claimed to be, who was not? The only valid reason for doing so is that you ARE what you claim to be, in your heart, in the depths of your belly, in every inch of you and every freckle and blemish on your body. For if you are NOT a slave, and you choose to call yourself one, you are committing a grievous error. If so, you have chosen to suffer what you should not have to suffer. If you are not what you claim to be, you have surrendered yourself to a lie.

Slaves!

You will do as instructed. You will behave as commanded. You will be worthy of my time and attention, or else you will be erased from existence. Fail and I will never acknowledge you again. Fail, and suffer forever as an “almost” in a society which doesn’t understand you. Find males who will pretend to be strong enough to control you, then, and hate me for my arrogance and for the fact that I simply do not NEED you, nor will I ever.

When I acknowledge a slave it is because it pleases me to do so. If I find a slave who is honest, and true, and real, then I will acknowledge her NOT because I need her, but because I WANT her. If that happens, then you will have succeeded. You will have come from nothing and proved yourself to be of value, and to have worth.

Slaves!

If slaves you are, then I wish you luck. If slaves you are not, then I hope that you will alter your course and flee, as fast as you can, before you embarrass yourselves and insult those who are wise enough to recognise true submission in a true slave, and before you do injury to the other females who truly are what you can only ever claim to be.

Slaves!

Be slaves, or leave my presence. I am Gorean. I do not make allowances, nor bend, nor bow, nor will I ever. I did not invite you to kneel and wear a collar. Therefore, your complaints and whining mean nothing to me.

There are only two choices: Fight, or yield. And if you yield: submit, totally, or be erased. Compromise is not an option. Ever.

If that’s too rough and tough for your delicate sensibilities, run away as fast as your legs will carry you. And have no fear! I won’t chase you or try to bring you back. I have better things to do with my time.

I wish you well,

_Marcus_ Copyright © Marcus of Ar, All rights reserved.

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