The event had been planned for weeks. The invitations were sent. I received several replies. Of course, my best friend would be there, after all, what is better than sharing salt with your brother?
The RSVPs made, one of which was an out of town guest that would be flying in the day before the event to help Mika and to get better acquainted with us both. We had been discussing her joining my house. I was looking for the right girl to be second. The shopping was done and let me tell you finding a Gorean marketplace is not easy in Metro Phoenix area!
Sweets came over early on Saturday morning to assist the girls with chasing me out of the house and setting everything up. As soon as I left, Mika, Sweets and Snow got busy on the house and the early preparations. I must say when I returned to my home, it had been transformed!
I returned to the house to find a silked slave girl kneeling as a pleasure slave at the entrance. What I saw behind her amazed me. She had already taken my breath away, but the effort the girls put into making us feel like we were not in a house on Earth was well worth my temporary displacement.
I entered what was my living room when I left, I found red broadcloth
draped from the ceiling surrounding a low table. On top of the table
were cloths of gold and red; there were two place settings. The placemats
were of silken urt fur (rabbit). At each setting were Torvaldsland
style drinking horns.
horns had been personally made by Mika and I, treated with beeswax,
no artificial coatings, as might be done on Gor A large bowl, containing
a large variety of fruits sat in the upper center of the table and
a silver salt cellar. Of course, both Bleu Sadist and I were ‘above
the salt’. Behind the table were two sitting pillows stitched by Mika.
Mine was red with purple cording as I am in my home, the Ubar. Bleu
Sadist’s was red with gold, white and of course blue cording. On Gor,
red is the color of the warrior. The gold and white is the color of
merchants, yellow and blue for slaver. So, the color for the cording
was chosen carefully. Since we both served our country in the military,
it is appropriate that our caste be that of the Warrior. Our pillows
were atop a thick set of furs and the table was atop a soft pelt from
a wild beast. To our right near each of the pillows was a slave whip,
as is customary. Behind us, our swords, again, as Warriors, it would
be expected. They are a matching pair of 52” Claymores.
and Sweets brought out a plate of Ramberries with honey, melons and
kalana berries. Immediately followed by the serving of kalana wine.
The Gorean tradition of a slave saying “Master, may I serve you wine?”
when she is serving ka-la-na has a double meaning. First it means
would you like wine, and second it means would you like an early dessert
of slave flesh. So, to keep the confusion down and the reddening of
cheeks a bit under control, Mika asked and served me ka-la-na and
Sweets served Bleu Sadist from a talk long necked red glass decanter.
Mika was very careful to ask Bleu Sadist “Master would you like more
wine?” when it came time to refill the glasses.
After the fruits and kalana, Mika and Sweets brought out sa-tarna bread with sweetened churned bosk butter. It was yellow. I mean really yellow, it was not cornbread and did look a little strange but was in fact, delicious. To wash it down we were served Bazi tea iced with citrus and white and yellow sugar.
It seemed just as we would be devouring one thing, another round was coming out of the kitchen. And the aromas were tantalizing enough to keep us wanting the next round.
We were then presented, for our approval, the meats that had been purchased at the market. The writing on the butcher paper indicated the type of meat and the cost charged by the merchant for each. Carefully, I unwrapped and re-inspected each. You should have seen the eyes as the vulo was unwrapped, head, feet and all still attached!
Mika returned to the kitchen with the meat, and assisted and instructed in the preparation for the main course as Sweets brought out the flat bread and ground legumes. Mika returned to the table carrying a beautifully ornate serving vessel atop a matching serving platter, there were tiny little footed cups that matched the entire set perfectly. Warm rence wine was poured into the cups.
Shortly after that Mika brought out an interesting looking pod. She placed a few of the cloves on a piece of flat bread and when I bit into the wonderfully roasted garlic I was pleased to discover a familiar taste.
The girls brought out wooden stakes and platters of the meat we had approved along with peppers, onions, and small suls for us to pick and choose that which would be cooked for us over an open flame. It all looked so good, as far as uncooked meats can look good. The vulo was already roasting and the fire was hot, ready for our choices. We each laced a bit of onion, pepper and sul with bosk, tabuk, and tumit. The skewers were taken and placed over the fire. While the meats were roasting, it gave the slaves a few moments to giggle and carry on, a time to sit and relax for a moment or two.
Mika returned with the mead. With drinking horns, once a beverage is placed in them, it must be completely consumed. One cannot place a horn down still full as can be done with a glass. The mead was sweet, cold, and filled the horns completely. Before the horns were completely empty, a slave was there and ready to refill them should we wish it. Come to think of it, I believe the slaves were attempting to get us drunk and take advantage of us.
The meats were done to perfection, smoked slightly and hot. The skewers were brought to the table and served with suls covered in bosk cheese and mashed spiced roots. Then came the vulo. Then the girls tried hard to hide in the kitchen, suddenly finding a million things that needed to be done there. But, believe it or not, it tasted much like a turkey. It was just getting past that black color! It is funny how usually every thing tastes like chicken; in this case, it was a chicken that tasted like turkey.
We were stuffed. There was no more room for even a bite. But we were not done yet. The tospit pie was served, followed by a beautiful two-slave serve of blackwine. When two slaves that care as much about each other as Mika and Sweets do do this serve, it is more pleasurable and beautiful than the taste of the blackwine itself. A two-slave serve of blackwine is done by one girl offering and placing the cup down, and placing into it the sugars and creams if they are desired. The second girl pours the blackwine into the cups. It is a teamwork effort and shows the communication that Mika and Sweets have without saying a word.
OK surely there is no way to put anything else into our overly stuffed stomachs. But out comes Mika with these wonderful mugs. Over their rims are mountains of sweetened whipped bosk cream. Within the cups is something she has no name for. But tells us the story of how she came into possession of the wonderful fluid. While at the market, she was approached by a Master who gave her a small brown bag; within the bag he told her was a concoction smuggled from earth. It is highly spiced and very precious, hard to come by. It is delicious and hot. The girls are permitted a small cup to appreciate. Besides, we needed to know if it was poison!
Through this entire evening, the girls were only fed by hand. They would kneel at the feet of their perspective Master and await the food he would see fit to feed them. Snow was permitted and expected to sample all the food that was to be brought to the table. There was of course, one loaf of sa-tarna bread left in the kitchen for the girls to nibble on.
The table was cleared, the stomachs stuffed and we cleared the table from the floor. Mika was instructed to dance, yes in front of everyone. And dance she did, at the end of the song she curled at my feet and caught her breath.
Well fed, good company, and the sharing of salt and water with my brother, the dance of a slave and it was a beautiful night.
Snow spent the long weekend with us and returned to her home on Monday. While she did not wind up joining my house, it did show me that the right second girl would be a pleasure and a benefit.
The menu glossary:
I hope this column gives some ideas of how we can all bring a touch of Gor to your everyday lives. Until next time, be well. If you have any questions or comments do not hesitate to contact me at Michael@desertvista.com or join me at the Life_under_3_moons chat group on yahoo. Just click the link below to join.