March/April 2002
Life Under the Three Moons

by Michael

Tal all,
My previous two articles have told the story of the branding of my kajira from the master's perspective. What I felt and what I thought can never be fully understood by Mika anymore then the emotions of a kajira can be fully understood by her master. So here we are almost two years later and neither have any regrets but what we came away from the experience with was completely different. I have shared with you my perspective and now Mika will share her's. I have given her permission to put into words her feelings without fear of retribution. I hope that both Master and slave will enjoy her tale.


I awoke on June 15, 2000, my master wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close and whispered “Good morning kajira, happy anniversary.” A strange mix of emotions ran through me in record time. The pride that I had been pleasing to this master for a year. Pleasing enough that he chose to keep me in collar and then the fear set in. This was our 12th anniversary, that meant it was time to be branded. For months, Master had been telling me I would be branded on our 12th month and just a few days before, I had gone and signed the papers giving the brander the approval to do this. The brander had to be protected by society’s laws and rule, but I signed the paper per the instructions of my owner. Having the detail of legalities out of the way before the actual branding, permitted us to follow more closely to the branding tradition, and the effect of being property “submitting” to rather than a free person “permitting” the act.

Like any other morning, I arose and got the kids ready for school. They were in a year-round school and thus, going this morning. I kissed them each and sent them on their way. I began to tremble. I was frightened. I had already been told that it hurt, very much in fact, and knew from my own cooking burns and such that I did not like the feeling of burning. With the kids out of sight, the reality that I was merely owned property began to set in. “Oh my God,” kept running through my brain. I was permitted to dress in a light soft dress (afterall it is hot as heck in Arizona in June) and slip on sandals. Ankle and wrist cuffs were placed on me. The leather familiar and comforting and into the car we went.

We drove across Tucson to pick up my once chain sister. Her bubbly personality was up lifting and her touch comforting. We giggled as sisters do and she, bless her heart, tried to keep me thinking of fun things, happy times, and things that made me laugh. To some degree, it worked, I was a bit more relaxed on the two hour drive to Phoenix, but that little voice kept trying to bully its way into my brain.

We finally met with Master’s best friend and the panic set it. I was really going to do this, Master was really going to have me marked kajira. Me, the one who had been so proud that she had not marred her body in any way prior to meeting Master. No tattoos, no marks, only a belly scar from child birth and those of a tomboy playing hard when she was younger. Me, the one who could not understand placing dyes into ones body was about to intentionally be scared, burned had I lost my mind??? No, just my ‘freedom’. Master Bleu gave me a hug, told me he was proud of me and into the dark big vehicle we went. Okay, so it was not a silver ship swooping me away to Gor, but it could not have been closer.

I was placed, still in ankle and wrist cuffs in the back seat of the SUV with my sister my hands. linked together by the D rings and we started down the freeway. Could my heart actually be pounding as loudly as my ears were hearing? Master spoke, my mind racing I barely made out the command. My sister helped pull my dress over my head and I was speeding down the freeway, naked except cuffs and collar. I was shivering. It was not cold, in fact over one hundred degrees, but I trembled, Master was really going to do this. It was completely in his hands now. N0 turning back, not that I would have, but as the books of Gor find the girls so often saying “Master had left me no choice.”

I can not even begin to say how long the ride really was, only that it seemed I could have traveled all the way to California in the time it took in my mind. Minutes felt like hours. I had always questioned the sanity of someone jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft and now found myself questioning the sanity of one who would deliberately inflict such a tremendous amount of pain on themselves intentionally. But that crazy person was me this day.

We arrived at the Brander’s home. Steve Haworth and his lovely girl were the most wonderful people, allowing me to become a bit relaxed. I had to wonder if they could see the trembling as I stepped into their home. Bekki, whom I would like to mention, is not only a beautiful person outside, but inside as well, smiled and sat with us a few moments. She had taken the time when we met to sign all the legal mumbo jumbo to show me her brands. To tell me the truth when I asked her if it was going to hurt. She explained how the muscles involuntarily twitch and contract during the procedure. She smiles now. Friendly, and understanding. Warm in just her persona. I will never forget how warm and inviting they both were.

Master removed my collar. Any girl who has ever worn the collar of the man that truly owns her, her heart, her body and her mind, knows that empty feeling that remains in your very soul when your neck is bared by your Master. I was frightened, I was uncollared, and I was empty. God, please let me be pleasing to him today, please God, don’t let me shame Him……..

Master and Steve left the room. Master Bleu must have seen the fear, he gave me a reassuring squeeze and I was off to put on my silks. My sister looked at me in the mirror, watched my hands tremble as I tried to tie the silks, and put on makeup??? Well let’s just say, there have been better days for that! Silks on, heart pounding, fear calling out to me, trying to push me from the very thing my Master wanted. A marked girl.

I entered the living room and waited, it seemed like forever. I can not even begin to tell the thousands of thoughts that ran through my head all at once, a jumble of self-doubt, pride, fear, excitement, fear, joy and did I mention fear?

Master reentered the room. I don’t think I had ever seen him look so stern. His face was hard, His gait determined. There would be no begging my way out of this. I could see it in his magnificent blue eyes. My heart skipped beats, my breath caught in my throat and then my scalp stung. I was being lead through the house (to this day, I could not find my way to that room alone) I did not know where, I did not even know which way I was being led. Then the sterile smell of the room hit me, it was a bit cooler than the rest of the house, or was it just my imagination? I was stood upright, and no one spoke to me, nobody said a word, I trembled again. I was nothing, no one, this had nothing to do with me. I was just property, Steve was just a metal worker paid to perform his art. I was alone. Though there were people in the room, I was alone.

Steve placed the outline of the brand Master had chosen on my leg, it was cold, and not quite high enough, it was removed, again cold, and now right where Master wanted it. High upon my left thigh, just below the hip. ‘oh my God, am I really going to do this?

I was led to a very sturdy table. I knew it was old and would later learn it’s actual age. It felt like I was about to go through my yearly exam again, my feet placed in stirrups, yet I had never trembled so at the doctors office. As Master secured me in place, I of course, tested the amount of “play” I would have in the binds. Again fear washed over me when I came to realize there was none. Not even a tiny bit. I began trying to talk to myself, to remember the pain of childbirth, sure that this could not possibly be any worse. Trying to “go to my happy place”, to relax. Mind over matter and all HA!!

“Girl you will now be branded.” Those words echoed and echoed and then I was pulled away from my relaxation by a searing pain shooting from my leg directly to my brain. I grasped the ropes held my breath, gritted my teeth, breathed rapidly, everything I could think of until finally the pain just took over and I screamed. I mean I really screamed. Not only was I in more pain than I had ever felt in my life, I was terrified, I begged, screamed “Please Master Please, Please make him stop Master please.” I don’t know how many times I begged, how many times I pleaded all I know is this Man who said he loved me was trying to kill me. I just knew I would never survive this pain. God, please just make it stop, please just let me pass out, God please please please. I went from absolutely adoring this man, loving him with every fiber of my being to hating him. I despised Him for hurting me so much, for the pain he was forcing on me. He had always been sure to stop the pain just before I couldn’t take it anymore and now…now he was abandoning me. He was letting this stranger torture me…Why? How could he?……I hate you. I hate all of You. MAKE IT STOP!

And then, just before I was going to receive the mercy of passing out, the most wonderful, blue eyes were looking into mine. The most wonderful, strong eyes were willing me to make it. The eyes I had so often looked to for guidance, were leading me through this, they were willing me strength. Willing the terror of my mind to feel control. Willing me to endure …. surrender … submit … trust.

Finally it was over. And the most beautiful words to a kajira’s ears were whispered so softly so warmly, so reassuringly “I am proud of you”. Yes, even more beautiful than I love you, my Master was proud. I had done well. Even though I was screaming and yelling and crying I had made my Master proud. That sent my heart soaring. Oh I had made Him proud. Proud in front of his best friend, proud in front of these people that tortured me….proud….but yet I was still not complete…

I don’t know how long I was permitted to rest, moments? perhaps. Master pulled me from the table and led me determinedly to the fur and to my knees before Him. Oh thank heavens I had done well, I was to be collared, I had pleased this Master. “Assume the position of female submission” YES! I was to be collared. My heart soared again, my leg did not hurt anymore. It was amazing. Once the brand was done, there was no pain. The electricity no longer vaporizing the flesh from my body the pain subsided. “In all things, yours to do with as you will.” I hoped beyond hope that I had not moved, that I had not caused damage to the kef upon my thigh. I hoped that the brand was perfect. Just as Master had imagined it. “Whatever Master wishes it to be. Yes Master, I am mika.

and I love you

So there you have the story of a kajira's branding as told from her perspective. Branding is not something to be taken lightly. While John Normans description of the five ehn single strike brand that heals in a couple of days may be true on Gor, here on Earth it takes weeks to heal and requires months of care. I would highly recommend Steve Haworth because I have seen his work on my girl and on others and I know it is done cleanly and professionally. Check the credentials of the "Metal Worker" you select. See their work.

Once branded, like your sisters on Gor, you will always remain so marked. Personal brands such as a masters name will remain long after he has gone. Remember, on Gor the brand labels a girl kajira, the collar identifies the master.

For questions or comments regarding this topic or others, write me at or for further questions to mika, write

HEY! Look what you did to me!

Be well,