From Ambassadress to slave: Najah of Gor

We have a secret in our culture; it's not that birth is painful, it's that women are strong - Laura Stavoe Harm

"Najah, you are doing great! Keep going!"

The slaver's encouragement resonated in her eardrums, but it was a back dropping compared to her grunting and muffled cries that the leather bit afforded her. Her teeth clenched painfully into the fiber which ground together, almost biting through and into her chapped lips. Another wave of pave ravaged her body and she reached out, grasping the sides of the bed until her knuckles burned white.

"I see the head now! We are almost there, girl... push."

The Physician's voice, though hastened and urgent, was calm as if she was in fact attempting to make certain that she didn't exert herself. The guiding palm pressed firmly on her swollen belly as Najah thrust with her pelvic strength to agonizingly usher the infant's head from her body.

She tossed her head back upon the pillow which was already saturated with heavy sweat; the hood only exacerbated her anguish it seemed and her teeth grazed her lips while the leather slipped further into her mouth and her tongue slid along the saliva-coated leather. This was just a simple moment she was afforded respite between pushing and briefly recalled the previous nine months that proceeded to this moment. The steel embracing her throat began to press to press on her vocal chords just slightly when she descended into that landscape of the painful delivery process and the recollection of when she actually laid claim to her own name.

The past is not a package one can lay away - Emily Dickinson

Her name wasn’t Najah and neither was she called “girl” by anyone. She was a lady; a respectable lady amongst the high caste whose true name was uttered in reverence, profound respect, and some would say, perhaps even adulation. It was a major honor and not something taken quite so lightly to be awarding a position to a woman and perhaps one so young. The woman, Lady Suyuan as she was referred to was recommended to the Pasha of Sand Sleen upon high recommendation of the citizens. The young woman had proved her intelligence through swift delegation and persuasion; not to mention her inclination and love towards languages: learning the varying Gorean dialects, devouring literature and a knack for writing. Not to mention her exhaustive efforts to alleviate that year’s drought through the representation and trading trips to attain water and she hadn’t even been called “Lady Ambassador” yet.

Discussions were held upon her latest return to the homestone and she was made ambassadress. Unfortunately, it was only a means that would backfire. For the influence and followers the subsequent naïve and young Lady Ambassador, her position was an affirmation of the plans the Pasha had: she would be an iconic figure for their own means and when they were finished with her, the coup de grace would be public. She would someday be the one to rest their faults, scheming, and plans.

The position kept her busy; trade was a constant and travel was frequent to almost exhausting proportion. In exchange of salt and sareem diamonds, the ambassadress oversaw the shipment of barrels of water… but where her ignorance was prevalent, the stealth of her employers reigned. Amongst the sought after water, which was a precious commodity in the Tahari, the leaves of the kanda plant were hiding to be distributed and sold to the citizens of Oasis of Sand Sleen and accompanying cities. The illegal substance would prove to be lucrative for the ambitious Pasha who utilized the young woman’s skills for his own means. Subterfuge and deception were sovereign within the first few years that Suyuan was a representative of her homestone. The reverence undulated as popularity would with any political figure, but the decline for Suyuan’s position and she was growing disfavored in combination with the Pasha who was secretly exploiting the woman.

The worst drought of that year consumed the Tahari and it was brutally grueling on the Oasis of Sand Sleen and the demand for water escalated to an unreasonable pinnacle. Suyuan was working herself into exhaustion and near burn out. No matter the efforts of the young ambassadress, there were never enough jewels or salt, but she soldiered on; she had to think of her people. But, the drought seemed to consume the whole planet as each individual shipment seemed to lack more of liquid that was the crutch of the desert tribes of the Tahari. Orders for the handling of such shipments grew stricter as they were direct from the Ubar himself. The usually obsequious and unquestioning ambassadress’ with a threshold for steadfast loyalty began to falter – she had discovered some of the barrels contained the infamous narcotic as opposed to the water rations she had broken her back for. The next few shipments contained more kanda and Suyuan’s resolve for her leader began to crumble as she came to her own conclusions.

The Pasha was cheating the citizens out of water rations for the gold that drug trafficking produced.

We are all prompted by the same motives, all deceived by the same fallacies, all animated by hope, obstructed by danger, entangled by desire, and seduced by pleasure - Samuel Johnson

The evidence complied and solidified and the young ambassadress concluded the inevitable – she would have to expose her leader to the people. Even if the endeavor cost her freedom and life, she had a duty to the homestone. Honor was on the line here.

Of course, what she didn’t expect was that the cronies of the Pasha had alerted him of what the young ambassadress discovered. Suyuan was carefully watched and there would come a time where she was expendable. The drought and the grumblings of the citizens and their complaints lodged against the High Caste of Sand Sleen proved an opportune time to get rid of the “source” of their problems: first starting with getting rid of the soft-spoken, pretty ambassadress and the evidence she had gathered against the Pasha. If she revealed him, the masses would ensue with their sense of disenfranchisement and righteous anger. Suyuan had enough backing to become Tatrix; she always gave more credit and listened to the citizens. She had to be taken care of.

Lady Ambassador Suyuan was sent on her final excursion as Lady Ambassador of Sand Sleen to the Isle of Cos to see how relations could be strengthened between the Oasis of Sand Sleen and the capital city of Telnus.

The scene was set; her simple “escort” was nowhere to be found when she usually had an entourage due to her official position. Sometimes was amiss, something didn’t seem right, but she had to perform her duty, escort or not.

Betrayal is the only truth that sticks - Arthur Miller

There was a flicker of movement and she briefly noticed the warrior who was observing her in a hawk-like fashion. She paid no mind to it but it did visibly make her uneasy and simply continued the idle chatter with the kajira.

The ambassadress’ attention was seized by the approach of the rarius; the determination was heavy in the air while he shrieked “runaway” at her and reached out to savagely peel away the layers of rep-cloth from her face. She was not attired in her haik as usually was; she had been instructed not to.

He tore at her robes and she put up the appropriate fight, clawing at him with her neatly manicured nails. She battled him but he proved stronger and overpowered her and thrust her to the cobbles. She screamed for her escort, for aide from any of the spectators in the vicinity.

Her pleas surprisingly fell on deaf ears. Most looked away while the kajira she had been conversing with watched the struggle with horror.

The ambassadress was tossed roughly to the cobbles and there was nothing of her robes except for shredded strands which was haphazardly shoved into her mouth in a feeble effort to silence her and also to deter any biting.

He was on top of her now nude form and unbuckled his tunic. She flailed beneath him, kicking at him with her dainty legs. He positioned himself between her limbs and pinioned her now bound wrists into the pavement and entered her with one brutal, swift thrust of his hips.

...It was me and a gun
And a man on my back
And I sang "holy holy" as he buttoned down his pants...

The pain was encumbering and it wrapped around her brain like a dismal cloud that refused to depart. She writhed beneath him violently, exacerbating the torture. He was hurting her and she knew he was aware of it. Despite her beleaguered protests, he wouldn’t stop as much as she begged him too.

...Tell me what's right
Is it my right
To be on my stomach
Of Fred's Seville...?

He gradually dislodged himself and reached forward to grasp a handful of her tangled hair; black with some undertones and wiped his seed and her virginal blood in her locks. He buckled up his tunic and glowered down at the battered young man; turning on his heels, he barked his greeting before walking away.

The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman as the most dangerous plaything. - Friedrich Nietzsche

“Welcome to Telnus.”

Suyuan lay on the cobbles amidst her torn robes while shock consumed her. She was hurt and the final evidence of her purity was drying on her thighs.

Time seemed to pass slowly; an eternity occurred as she remained in her crumbled heap on the cobbles.

Jaxon Luik’s lips curled into a triumphant smile as he encroached. He had in fact heard her screams and witnessing her violent deflowering. He was simply anticipating the right moment before he would mark the fatal chapter in her life. In his callused right hand, he already had the collar ready.

It was an arrangement, the final humiliation. The Pasha had secretly arranged for the ambassadress’ fall from grace meticulously. Having her assassinated would be too easy and too suspicious. He had to discover another method of which would mean her downfall.

The rumors spread that the ambassadress had been in a bad part of Telnus, seeking out dealers to fuel the kanda trafficking in Oasis of Sand Sleen. The ambassadress was behind it all, the shipments, the sales, the trade. She was not as honorable and righteous as she seemed to be; she was an outright sham. The Pasha assured his people that the matter was dealt with delicately and that the ambassadress was taken care of: she had a brief trial and was sentenced to slavery.

It explained by the escort didn’t accompany her, why Suyuan’s cronies were rebuffing her.

She was betrayed… by everyone and left to her fate in Telnus.

Where her people and friends abandoned her, she was subjected to a different path when the House of Bomze’s head slaver stepped forward and claimed her.

Jaxon Luik proceeded towards the broken and ruined woman and hissed sharply at her, his voice lowering an octave. His words were minatory and threatening. He was a man that was not to be reckoned with.

“I suggest that you simply cross your arms and submit. Otherwise things won’t go well for you.”

He was correct of course and the curious onlookers were approaching. Amongst the crowd were some officials, children, kajirae, and free women whose cold gaze penetrated her to the bone.

She did as he commanded and the collar encompassed her slender throat. The locking mechanisms were so loud that they threatened to burst her eardrums.

The ambassadress had died upon the pavement only to be revived as a common kajira within a matter of moments.

She was handed to Jaxon’s cousin, Dane Galtier who examined and bathed her. As a new acquisition, he paid special attention to her. At first, she was wary of him, the trauma of her public rape and humiliation was still a fresh wound. Dane was rough, but reasonably patient with her; he was a true Gorean man who would refuse to allow Suyuan even to wallow in her own trauma.

You have to crawl into your wounds to discover what your fears are. Once the bleeding starts, the cleansing can begin. - Tori Amos

Days transformed into weeks and everything was still immensely surreal for the new acquisition. The House of Bomze made things comfortable for her as she was still reeling in the aftermath of her devastating conundrum.

The nausea commenced around the sixth hand when the nightmares were just beginning to abate somewhat and for a few days she was able to gain a good night’s rest. But, in the early hours of the morning she would flee from her kennel to expel the contents of her stomach over the side of the cliff. Her hunger increased and she found herself sneaking leftovers as often as possible from the kitchen when the other House girls were serving. It was when the fainting spells began that Dane became diligent and monitored his girl more closely. The final straw was an excursion out on the beach and he growled, approaching Jaxon and his girl; a former Panther named Cortez who assessed Suyuan’s condition.

She was with child.

There is no other feeling
Like the movement of an unborn child.
It's closer
Than someone touching you
From the outside.
It's purely and cleanly
And clearly
Your own movement - Merrit Malloy

The news did nothing to alleviate her condition. She couldn’t, wouldn’t have this child! It would be everything that symbolized her loss of status, innocence, identity! But, she had no choice in the matter; she would bring the pregnancy to full-term and if anything happened to the fetus, her life would be forfeit.

It was a bitter pill to swallow and she would have to learn her place even if it ended up killing her. She would be coerced to carry the product of her humiliation and there were even talks of making her House Breeder. Suyuan was a remarkable-looking girl to begin with; it was her eyes, their hue and shape that made her most valuable.

The hands transformed into months and her duties included caring for the Free’s children as opposed to being chained in a pen for the duration of the gestation. Jaxon and Dane concluded that that would be good for her mental health.

They were right.

The pregnant kajira spent most of her time with the children, playing with and caring for them. Her skills even extended to looking after moping slave girls and even deterred one from suicide.

She had a new role which defined her and she was a fish in the Thassa; thriving in her environment as opposed to drowning previously. She had a new purpose despite the emotional scars that were hidden.

She had been disgraced, humiliated, and cast aside and learned to live with it. Her caretaking ways distracted herself from her own adversity. In caring for others, she was on the gradual path to recovery.

The “bane” as she referred to the child growing within her womb made her elated. Perhaps it was hormones, insanity, or just accepting of her position, but she couldn’t wait to meet the little life that was kicking beneath her heart.

Suyuan was thus renamed “Najah” by the slaver Dane. It was an appellation that meant security, success, “to be taken care of”. She embraced it enthusiastically. She spent more time with the slaver, her joy eliciting trust. He knew the right words to say, when to apply comfort. She didn’t shy from or refuse his affections anymore. He even promised Najah that she could stay with her baby after it was born, that it would remain in the House.

One does not bargain with kajirae in any way and one could do whatever one wanted with them. But it was cruel to give them a false sense of security and hope; especially those in a delicate condition.

Najah provided the final thrusts as she panted heavily into the sweat-soaked hood. She couldn’t quite comprehend why it was on her head. She would be seeing her baby very soon anyway.

Najah’s son entered the world in a fit of screaming and crying and his mother resigned herself on the medical bed. She was exhausted, sore, but above all she was bursting with anticipatory joy.

“It is strong, but too small to travel now.” The physician’s assistant related to Dane after she cleaned him. She handed the child over to the slaver wrapped in tight rep-cloths while Najah lay upon the blood-stained cot just a few feet away.

“Thank you, Lady. I will come by tomorrow to pay for your services.” Dane’s heavy footfalls resonated as he quickly passed the resting, though anxious mother. Her hand reached out to brush the soft hair of her infant son but Dane exited the room with the crying child.

“Where’s my baby? Let me see my baby. Let me see him!” Najah exclaimed with some agitation. Something was wrong and luckily her senses, which met no anastethic for the birth made her made her sit up.

The Head Physician pushed her back down the bed and had her restrained as her assistants went to work at patching and cleaning her up.

“Where’s my baby? I want to see my baby. He said I could see my baby!” The heartbreaking desperation in her tone was gradually ushering in her panic as she shook her head violently, “Take this damned thing off of me and let me hold my baby!”

The Physician could feel her eyes glaze and out of pity for the shrieking girl, injected her with a sedative that made her pass out almost instantly. She removed the hood and leather bit that had snapped in half and appraised the unconscious girl.

“I’m sorry, girl. But this is the way it has to be.” She brushed her dampened hair from her forehead and clenched her teeth. This had to be the worst part of her occupation; delivering slave girl’s children and having them taken away immediately post-birth. Some girls were prepped for the separation, some were not. It was rare when a slaver allowed stock, especially one born to remain with their respective mothers.

She studied the sleeping Najah’s features. She had heard about her story and it made her feel for her. She whispered to her, almost lovingly.

“You have lost so much… your freedom, your innocence, your pride, your identity, and now your baby…”

She curled her fingers slightly and caressed her cheek. It was surprisingly cool to the touch. She resumed her reassuring speech. Whether or not Najah could hear, the Head Physician would offer a blessing if plausible.

“If you survive this which I hope you do. You will find that what you lost will return – in one way or another. Sleep well, girl.”

I cannot say why I could not save him.
Could there be a reason why?
Did my body reject him in its humiliation?
Did I, in my mind, push him away
Because he wouldn't let me give up
When I wanted to?
I carried him
And he carried me
Through when we could not go alone - Merrit Malloy

The Birth of Suyuan

You did then what you knew how to do, and when you knew better, you did better. - Maya Angelou

Mizumi's mizuage opened a doorway for her where she could exercise more liberty in her path towards her prime. She was young, beautiful, and certainly eligible to be even the Emperor's consort or even a Ubar's favored slave. Yet, her formative years in the pleasure house of Honjuku had only taught her what the passions of men would be like and certainly not their will as Lord Nishida certainly exercised his.

Some time after her mizuage, he bought her contract, yet he had the ability to do what he wished with her and thus, gifted her to one of his ashigaru (cavalrymen); a simple a man named Goro, who, admittedly was handsome with leaf-shaped eyes. Yet, he had a manner about him which was beyond austere... dispassionate in some instances if one would describe. It was not that he was hard to figure out, but he certainly a man with his own ambition and direction.

Mizumi was anything but impressed and anything but content with the decision Lord Nishida made. Her heart was harboring and even aching for Lord Okimoto and not this soldier who often found solace in his own company.

It is so easy to talk of ‘passing emotion’ and forget how vivid the emotion was ere it passed. Our impulse to sneer, to forget, is at root a good one. We recognize that emotion is not enough, and that men and women are personalities capable of sustained relations, not mere opportunities for electrical discharge…Yet, we do not admit that by collisions of this trivial sort, the doors of heaven are shaken open. - Howard's End

Simplicity was sovereign in the relationship; yet, the usual advantage that a Gorean man would exercise quite frequently in his relationship whether with a contract woman or slave girl relied more heavily upon an appointment-type basis as he was someone that was strictly self-involved.

Mizumi came to care for Goro despite her own expectations. Though, he had a proverbial wall surrounding him, there were moments when she was able to see "him" aside from the usual detachment that frustrated her. Pani, although they are passionate, maintain a sense of austerity about them almost at all times. It was not that Goro wasn't passionate; he was in his own way with his brutal kisses when he wasn't aloof and the sweetness that imitated warm sunlight poking through the shade of a tree.

A grand adventure is about to begin. - Winnie the Pooh

Apparently, the "wine of the noble free woman" didn't work for Mizumi as expected as her belly subsequently began to swell with child. Now again, it should be reported to Lord Nishida as the child growing within her might be his and he would have the final say of what would happen to Mizumi and her unborn child. Yet, it was not uncommon if Contract Women had children, particularly daughters who could be raised in the pleasure house. Sons were of a different matter; most likely they would be adopted by the father and he and his Free Companion would raise it.

Lord Nishida learned of Mizumi's condition and thus would have gladly sold her contract off to Goro so that they could companion one another; instead, he removed her from Goro's "service" and enrolled her back into the okiya indefinitely. It was a devastating blow for the young mother-to-be. Perhaps Lord Nishida had an inkling that the child might be his or perhaps it was Goro's. Either way, Mizumi was condemned to solitude and separation from Goro who was just beginning to gradually to reveal himself to her.

Imprisonment is as irrevocable as death. - George Bernard Shaw

The cruel reality of man's will was beginning to unveil itself. Goro made no effort to lay claim or even purchase Mizumi's contract. Everyday in her confinement, she couldn't help but gaze from her window at the scenic village, hoping to catch one glimpse of the man she had cohabited with for several Hands. The bustling world never revealed him and she battled with despair. The only thing that helped her maintained hope was the child she was carrying in her belly. She remembered the prophecy manifested by the diviner. Although, some it was unsettling, she resigned herself with the realization that the child kicking rapidly beneath her heart would be strong - the will of men wouldn't rule her as they did her mother.

The time for her baby's birth approached and she continued looking towards the heavens. As the shamaness predicted, there appeared to be a sort of supernova within the sky that burned vibrantly in the Phoenix Constellation. It was a breech birth and albeit there was some difficulty, the child entered the world in fit of healthy crying. The doula laid the baby girl against Mizumi's breast and she rocked her; admiring her unusual amber eyes and pale skin which would make her a target for slavers later on in her life.

There was much to worry about; whether Lord Nishida would decide that the baby belonged with herself and pleasure house or with his family. Regardless of protocol, Mizumi knew that she would fight for her infant daughter. She even took it up herself to name her before the okasan of the okiya could.

It was a name was unusual among the people, but still Pani - Suyuan. She was a light in the young contract woman's life when she was condemned to isolation and had been abandoned.

The dark cloud seemed to have lifted with the arrival of Suyuan - or so one would have thought - Mizumi was still in confinement and had no idea what Lord Nishida had planned for her. However, it was difficult to imagine that her daughter probably might grow up fatherless. Goro was absent and Lord Nishida had his own agenda. From what she detailed in Suyuan's features, she had a feeling her father was Goro as she had his eye shape and the sharp point of his nose. Regardless, if the man she cared for would not come forward - she would raise Suyuan on her own.

For now, the horizon calmed as Mizumi resigned herself with fighting not for herself any longer - but her baby as well.

A daughter is a mother's gender partner, her closest ally in the family confederacy, an extension of her self. - Author Unknown

Mizuage

It is not for geisha to want. It is not for a geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings, she entertains you... What ever you want... the rest is shadows, the rest is secret. - Sayuri, Memoirs of a Geisha (film)

The years of a back-breaking regimen had cultivated her skills into this one moment - the debut as an official contract woman who would cater to the aesthete tastes of Pani men that would be able to afford her.

But, there was one final step in the process in which Mizumi must abide before her anticipated arrival as a full-fledged contract woman... and that was her mizuage.

Like the oiran and ancient geisha of Earth, it is an ancient coming of age custom where a trainee girl's virginity is sold to the highest bidder. It is one of the many secrets which "known Gor" would not be aware of except amongst the Pani elite and particularly it was a business matter that was reserved solely for the privileged or for those who could afford it. Collar-girls are often opened for the pleasures of men, but for a contract woman trainee, it was a symbolization that she was no longer a girl or han'gyoku (half-jewel). With the patron who receives opportunity, he is often to compared to a bee or eel that will "pollinate the jewel-flower" or the eel "who finds his cave and finds satisfaction in it, marks his territory by spitting in it." The entire process transforms the "half-jewel" in a blooming flower or rare gem that will be appreciated and tended to by men. In return, a contract woman provides amusement, relaxation, and grace to anyone who is lucky enough to hold her contract.

One could only guess how Mizumi felt about the entire thing.

The willow which bends to the tempest, often escapes better than the oak which resists it; and so in great calamities, it sometimes happens that light and frivolous spirits recover their elasticity and presence of mind sooner than those of a loftier character - Sir Walter Scott

"I will not do this! I refuse to do this! I am not some writhing, panting white collar-girl who will moan when touched! I am better than that, onei-san!" Mizumi's stubbornness proved adamant in her conversation with her mentor or "older sister", Kuzuki. Like the geisha of Earth, it was not uncommon for an inexperienced trainee contract woman to be afforded a mentor. When not entertaining their clients, their jobs were to focus upon and help the young trainees both nurture their skills and promote them. Ironically, it was similar to that a First Girl on a chain whipping Last Girls into shape when it regarded slaves. But, unlike First Girls and Last Girls, they were a paragon of the apprenticeship that trainees must endure and their contracts were often the most valuable and sought after by the Pani.

"What have I taught you, Mizumi? Contract women do not become what they are because they have a choice. It is will of men that makes us become what we are. If a man chooses, he can make you a collar-girl. But, that is not what you are nor what you will become. You are being primed to be something better than the common animal, but rather a rare and precious jewel that men will pay fortunes to be in the company of. You are living art and with your mizuage, you will become a masterpiece who's services will appeal of the connoisseurs of the Pani."

Yuzuki's words only made Mizumi more obstinate and frustrated with the entire ordeal and she begrudgingly acquiesced to the luring of patrons who were bidding on the prospect of deflowering her.

Of course, there was expected opposition and this came in the form two women: Sumomo and her charge, Hisui who would later become contracted to both Lord Nishida and Lord Okimoto.

Sumomo was a beautiful, prideful woman who was past her prime but displayed vast insecurity when it regarded Yuzuki's success and Mizumi's rising career. It infuriated her that both Lord Nishida and Lord Okimoto were beginning to inquire about Mizumi's upcoming debut. Sumomo was not only wicked, but cunning and would utilize any opportunity to humiliate and undermine Mizumi whenever she accompanied Yuzuki to an ochaya (teahouse) or feasts hosted by Lord Nishida so that she could promote her availibility.

Rivalry is the life of trade, and the death of the trader - Elbert Hubbard

"I wasn't aware that collar-girls were permitted kimono," remarked Sumomo to both Yuzuki and Mizumi. "Perhaps I'll see to Lord Nishida about changing that." Her snark was as sharp as her comeliness. Among men, she displayed her best smile with a sense of submission that could even make a collar-girl's eyes roll. She was a silk robe that maintained its feel, but was of a cheap quality.

"Ah, Sumomo. How good it is see you but you are mistaken I'm afraid. We are not collar-girls, but rather contract women who entertain men. If you like, I can refer you to the physician. But, then again lack of eyesight tends to coincide with age." Yuzuki's wit was just as quick as her observation, if not to situations but to the individual. She was as graceful and lovely as she was clever and the latter part would be a trait that Mizumi and her daughter would utilize in the future when they were both in the steel.

Sumomo snorted with disgust at both of the women and continued with her duties. She had heard about the bidding for Mizumi's mizuage and seized this opportunity to unsheathe her claws and assault Mizumi's reputation with malicious rumors.

A contract woman who did not have a client or series of clients could possibly fall into destitution or become a collar-girl, but this was rare indeed. Only the bottom of the barrel occurred to such and Sumomo sought to make Mizumi nothing more than the common kettle and mat collar-girl who was chained at night to the slaver houses.

Suspicion began to surface regarding Mizumi. Did she have a lover? Was she actually a virgin? Speculation aroused due to Sumomo and her skills with gossip, especially regarding how persuasive she could be. The flippant wagging on her tongue and her facade of expressing false concern over Mizumi's status elicited much talk about the trainee's subsequent mizuage.

Lord Nishida, who was one of the one bidders for Mizumi's "coming of age" experience ordered to have her examined by physician to see if she was indeed in-tact. Most likely, if she wasn't, she would either be expected to take her own life for breaking protocol and dishonoring not only her pleasure house, but herself and ruining the investments that instructors, trainers, teachers, and even bidders placed in her. That or the latter and that would be the collar; which would be a complete loss of identity and sense of self.

Mizumi was examined by Lord Nishida's own personal physician as he certainly wouldn't lie to the daimyo. The process was humiliating, if not dehumanizing for the young trainee but it satisfied Lord Nishida's doubts and essentially quelled the rumors of whether or not Mizumi was a virgin and fit to undergo her mizuage as planned. It was certainly not unusual that he won the bidding war as he had his eye the young beauty since the day she was introduced to him during one of his decadent feasts. He was determined to have her, despite the steep price for deflowering her.

To supplement to the trainee's chagrin, she was instructed to approach the shamaness at the shrine for the prediction of an auspicious date of which the mizuage should occur. The last time Mizumi visited the shamaness was for a reading of her future and was informed that she would bear a daughter would be like a willow - gracious, flexible, and strong and endure much adversity. Though the prophecy remained a constant in her mind, she was more concerned during this time about her impending mizuage. But, to remain on the safe side, she consumed copious amounts of "the wine of the noble free woman" administered to her by Lord Nishida's companion. The thought of a child resulting in her union with Lord Nishida was as unnerving to her as to what she had to endure.

The dictated date arrived and Mizumi spent the time pacing and reflecting. Lord Nishida seemed to be an insatiable, if not crafty man. But, it was not his cunning that nonplussed her, but rather his greed and actions which seemed to be shadowed with ulterior motives. He was like any other Gorean man; voracious and uncompromising. Would he hurt her? A myriad of questions inundated and before she knew it, the fateful evening had arrived and it was time to go to Lord Nishida.

The okasan (propietoress) of the pleasure house selected the chamber and a ceremony quite similar to what Free Companions go through. Lord Nishida attempted conversation to quell her nerves as his voice was smooth like silk and his sleek way with words. Admittedly, his efforts alleviated some of the thick tension between them. Time passed and the moments she had been dreading arrived as he lead her to the futon. He had already undressed himself, Mizumi remained clothed.

His lips claimed hers with a gentle, yet vehement kiss that made her heart palpitate rapidly. It wasn't the kiss of ownership that owners give to their slaves, but something entirely rapidly. It was impassioned, gentle which relieved her trembling and his callused hands took their time in divesting her of her kimono which was the only barrier between them. She was on her back and he loomed over her while his kisses were constant, resembling a butterfly's wings opening and closing. His attempts were to ease her trembling and assuage her fears. A contract woman is no slave and thus was used differently than the average collar-girl.

Everything around me seemed to grow so quiet, as if he were the wind that blew and I were just a cloud carries upon it. - Sayuri, Memoirs of a Geisha (film)

He positioned himself between her legs and penetrated her, sealing her whimpering cry from the painful entry with the same kiss he had utilized to ameliorate her prior fears. The experience was sweet, if not a bit rough, but he treated her with the care as one would handle a rare gem and not a collar-girl.

The evening would be emblazoned in her memory forever and within the following days, her status as well her popularity increased. With her "coming of age" experience, thanks to Nishida, she was elevated not only in status but in favor. Often she became requested to appear at teahouses and banquets. Sumomo fumed and plotted with Hisui. As Mizumi was granted her time in the limelight, there was a cloud emerging on her horizon that would begin a series of bad omens. It would only be a matter of time before she fell from grace.

Success is important only to the extent that it puts one in a position to do more things one likes to do. - Sarah Caldwell

Divination and Destiny

Now I understood the thing I´d overlooked; the point wasn't to become a geisha but to be one. To become a geisha . . . well, that was hardly a purpose in life. But to be a geisha . . . I could see it now as a stepping-stone to something else. - Sayuri, Memoirs of a Geisha (novel)

The contract woman training was intense - five to six years of rigorous training in music, conversation skills, flower arranging, dancing, and whatever else would cater to an elite Pani man's interests. Her focus was not just upon becoming successful, but rather finding the daimyo who had displayed the few momentary fragments of kindness that she would most likely ever experience aside from the common pleasantries of being in the presence of clients.

There were a few moments in which she faltered; such as seeking out her sister who had become a collar-girl of one of the subordinates of Lord Nishida. She was punished severely for her search, having broken her leg from falling from a roof and accumulating a debt to the household which be added to her lessons, classes, clothing, food, and shelter. Such debts occur frequently within okiya as geisha of Earth progress in their training. It is not until she self-sufficient and independent or contracted to a danna that she would be able to clear her ample and cumbersome dues. Despite that umbrage against her pleasure house, she became more determined than ever to survive which oddly enough became one of her strongest traits. Amongst the Pani, failure is not an option and to hesitate even for a moment could cost resilience, training, and one's life.

Hisoka, who had now been thus been now aptly named as "Mizumi" often made frequent trips to the shrine; making her obligatory offerings to the gods, but on this particular day she decided to visit the diviner. Many cultures of Gor have their methods for foretelling the future and in the Pani shrines, the diviners often read palms they do in Japan on Earth.

Mizumi met with the shamaness Kasumi who was an astonishingly attractive young woman with a lart(fox)-like visage: cunning, yet intelligent. Unlike the other miko (shrine maidens) who offer omikuji (fortune paper-telling), she claimed to receive her powers directly from the gods. Kasumi gathered Mizumi's hands within hers and appraised them while the contract woman in training waited patiently for her words.

"This is strange, " remarked Kasumi as her nail traced over the lines of Mizumi's right palm. This made Mizumi tense and she leaned in, "What, shamaness? What is it?" But, Mizumi was unprepared of what she would hear next.

"Despite much, you will suffer... but none so much as the twin you will bear. She should have been your twin but she is returning

to you... she is entirely you, in thought, action, purpose... but she will have her own heart, soul, and determination..."

If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people. - Thich Nhat Hanh

Mizumi could not believe what she was hearing. A twin?! What twin?! Suffering?! She only had her sister Setsuko who was lost to her now. She opened her mouth to inquire of what the shamaness was speaking of, but the woman held up her hand to silence her while the shamaness pointed to Mizumi's fate line which appeared perfectly normal; with the exception that from the side of her palm, at the angle of where her thumb was was one line traversing it where the shamaness gestured.

"Do you see this? This is the Girdle of Venus which is traversing your fate line. I have never seen this before. Allow me to look at your other hand." The shamaness reached over to grasp Mizumi's left hand and scrutinized the lines, "Your Companionship line is feeble; but the child lines are strong. Though..." She traced one line that connected with Mizumi's middle finger and just to be certain. Poor Mizumi was already anxious and a bit of fear surfaced in her honey-brown eyes while regarding the busy shamaness with a pleading expression. Suspense was never one of her strengths.

"The left hand indicates your Yin, the feminine essence and although you have children lines on both hands, your Yin hand is more dominant. You will have a daughter with the Girdle of Venus always traversing with her fate... but I reiterate; she is your twin. Before you give birth, a new star will appear in the constellation of Phoenix and Venus will align with it. The affect will create something very similar to a supernova. The star signifies your daughter who will always have Venus in her astrological charts."

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. - Oscar Wilde

Mizumi was utterly perplexed at the divination and her heart rate increased as she had a myriad of questions for the shamaness. But, despite her nonplus expression, the shamaness would continue her reading and the words she spoke dumbfounded the contract woman to where she sought to cover her ears, but her hands were still compromised by the shamaness. Despite the fact her hands were soft, she had a firm grip which never hesitated.

"She will suffer more immensely than you. Although her star will be in the sky, luck does not always coincide with the Mandate of Heaven. But Heaven and the gods will watch her, as she shall have the will and strength of a warrior and the survival instincts of a sleen. She will be like the Empress, but will never become one... no man will ever be by her side... the will of men will rule her but will never apply to her. Your bloodline, your bone... will begin with her. You will have many children... unlucky, unfavored children. But she alone will be the 'son' that most men crave. She is the star, both fragile and bright... no one, nothing can never extinguish her. She will endure many trials, tribulations, and names. But, she will still be, a star and in her way, a blessing to you. This is the will of the gods."

The reading was finished and Mizumi paid the diviner shamaness though a plethora of questions swam about in her head. She had come to discover if she had a future and instead she found out she would most likely have a daughter. What did she mean that she would suffer more greatly than herself? Unlucky children? This prediction was a double-edged sword and it disturbed her immensely.

Confusion consumed Mizumi as she retired for the evening and continued her practicing; she would attempt to put the divination in the back of her mind and focus on her debut as a contract woman. Despite the unsettling reading, she was elated to know that the daimyo's cousin, Lord Okimoto was beginning to display interest in her progress and would be most likely be present for when she emerged among the people as a contract woman.

Diviners were just soothsayers were they not? The white men from Port Kar who resided in tarncamp stated as such.

But Mizumi was still inundated by thoughts of the shamaness' words which would continue to populate her thoughts, speaking of it to no one.

Though she couldn't help but begin to study the mighty night sky and their constellations as the seasons passed. She ruminated often over the divination and thought that the process in which she became contract woman herself; the pain of losing her mother and sister, her father seemingly betraying her and selling her into the pleasure house even though it was her people's custom... but to be reborn as an up and coming contract woman. Was this not enough suffering for a young girl such as she to suffer? No matter how much she tried to suppress it, the divination would not depart her brain. She forced herself to focus on the future and the chance to be in the presence of Lord Okimoto once again.

...a Contract Woman's Efforts.

You cannot say to the sun, "More sun." Or to the rain, "Less rain." To a man, geisha can only be half a wife. We are the wives of nightfall. And yet, to learn kindness after so much unkindness, to understand that a little girl with more courage than she knew, would find her prayers were answered, can that not be called happiness? After all these are not the memoirs of an empress, nor of a queen. These are memoirs of another kind. - Sayuri from Memoirs of a Geisha (film)

On the planet Gor, there thrives a passionate, vital race known as the Pani who are very similar to the Asian cultures of Earth. Their ways and beliefs were transferred on the Voyages of Acquisition thousands of years ago, but they are often unheard of in "known Gor". Yet, their stories are just as rich and abundant as any other woman's secret history.

Honjuku is a Port Kar reserve and some pasangs away was the notorious port city which harbored its very own Caste of Thieves, she-urts, and pirates. Yet, the village was entirely the opposite; a scenic respite that invoked tranquility but never lacking in diligence and discipline, as it was dedicated to the lifestyle of the Pani swordsmen.

We do not become Geisha to pursue our own destinies. We become Geisha because we have no other choice.- Mameha, Memoirs of a Geisha (film)

Mori Okimoto, often referred to by his men as "Lord Okimoto" was a dignified man who favored resplendent korti or kimono. When he was not attending to matters of state for the emperor or dealing with politics, he preferred spending his evenings within the attendance of the refined and beautiful contract women which the makeshift pleasure house of the tarncamp provided. Often, men would seek out collar-girls or women who assumed themselves as contract-worthy but often, by examination, age, and eligibility, would not be admitted to the okiya of where future contract women lived.

Yet Hisoka, later renamed "Mizumi" during her training, a one-name person seemed to perplex them...

Hisoka was a simple peasant girl who had been born and raised in the tarncamp who was the daughter of a fisherman employed under Lord Okimoto. He provided the best fish that he could catch for the military camp and admired by many. During wartime, his skills could be depended upon to provide nutrition for the soldiers; and he was awarded a fine contract woman to become his companion.

But she provided no sons for him to carry on his legacy, only a plain older daughter named Setsuko and a lovely one who was named Hisoka. Both daughters were sold into an okiya after the death of his companion, for among the Pani and not simply just Gorean men, females could be done with as men saw fit, young or old.

Hisoka, the reserved child was seperated from Setsuko as the both of them endured very different lifestyles. Setsuko would become a collar-girl and the aged contract women who were now in charge of Hisoka's life were determined to see her through to her training.

Despite the appearance to the outside world, Hisoka endured with attempts to run away and the like. Though she endured, suffered, becoming a refined gem for the pleasure of Pani men. Shouldn't she consider herself luck that she was not a collar girl?

There was a moment, during Hisoka's youth and training where Lord Okimoto bought her dumplings and offered kind words to her. Unlike most Pani men who preferred the women, he resigned himself with the simple whims of a girl who was struggling and suffering from subsuquent adversity. He was kind, gentle, and offered a few words of encouragement.

The trainee contract girl dashed to the nearest temple and paid her respects to the gods; offering her life, her services, everything... if she could meet such a man as Lord Okimoto again; even in training for just a moment.

Hisoka, who would later become Mizumi was unaware just how much perseverence would be prevalent in her bloodline.

In that moment, I changed from a girl facing nothing but emptiness, to someone with purpose. I saw that to be a geisha could be a stepping stone to something else... a place in his world. - Sayuri, Memoirs of a Geisha (film).

Camellia transforms into...

History is herstory too - Author Unknown

"The Pani are an extremely emotional, passionate race, as I would learn, and the calmness of their exterior demeanor, their frequently seeming impassibility, even seeming apathy, was less of a disposition than an achievement." - pg 258. Swordsmen of Gor.

Resuming

I am going to resume this blog after neglecting it for a year; I think it's only fair that my character's stories in ALL mediums be recorded. Nowadays, you can find me in Gor and this blog will narrate the stories that I weave there.

But, as a default, this blog is an all purpose one here on out and not just dedicated to a single character in a single medium. Toxian Suyuan has evolved into where it is appropiate, never dormant, but only when the mood strikes while Gorean Suyuan thrives. But, no matter what the setting, scene, mood, or RP medium is; Suyuan will always be here as she has grown to be a part of me and an extension of myself.

There is an attachment to all my characters whether they be alts or simple backdroppings; the characters that I put so much effort into are my creation and I view them my as my children - I allow them adapt and thrive wherever they are placed.

This where I begin to evolve.