Rapture

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◆ ✦ ◆ Be good enough to forgive them, but don't be stupid enough to trust them again. - Stolen from another ◆ ✦ ◆ . ` . . . ` . . . . ` * ` . . ` * . . *. . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` . . ` ✩ . . ` . . . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` . . ` ✩ . . ` 　 . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` 　
◆ ✦ ◆ Still think you're better than me? Read pick: .I don't argue. I exit ◆ ✦ ◆
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If you knew me as a Free Woman, do not presume to know my identity simply because you now encounter my slave. My appearance is entirely different.

As a Free Woman, I dressed with elegance and concealment. I often wore a headscarf or hijab, a veil, and at times a full face covering so that only my eyes were visible. My garments draped me from neck to feet in fine fabrics, with even my hands covered. There was no visible body shape to recognize.

Likewise, if I am disguised as a Free Woman, I present myself in the same manner. You may not claim to recognize me by my figure, my clothing, or any physical feature that was never visible in roleplay.

My name tag is not roleplay evidence. It exists solely as an out-of-character viewer aid and may not be used to identify my character.

If your character identifies or addresses my slave or my FW based on information they could not reasonably possess in roleplay, that is metagaming. Roleplay knowledge must come from what your character has legitimately seen, heard, or learned within the scene, not from viewer information or out-of-character knowledge.
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I was the only girl in his compartments. I well understood the meaning of this. He had chosen the perfection of one man, the complete master, and one woman, the total slave. It is called the perfect bondage, each all and perfect to the other.
It is right for some men, and not for others. Much depends on whether the man has met his perfect slave and the woman her perfect master.
[Slave Girl of Gor Book 11 Page 442]

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"Her face was incredibly delicate, and her lips. Her face was extremely sensitive, and feminine. It was a face on which emotion could be easily read. Her lip was swift to tremble, her eyes swift to moisten, filling with bright tears. Her feelings were easily hurt, a valuable property in a slave girl. Too, she could not control her feelings, another excellent property in a slave girl. Her feelings, vulnerable, deep, exploitable, in her expressions and on her face, betrayed her, exposing her to men, and their amusement, as helplessly as her stripped beauty. They made her more easily controlled, more a slave."
Tribesmen of Gor, Pg. 104

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People often speak from places of hurt, and in that hurt, they may feel justified in the way they describe others. But feeling wronged does not always make the telling true. Words can be shaped by emotion as much as by fact. What is said about someone does not define what actually is. There are always two sides to every story, and truth is rarely found in a single voice alone.
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Rapture, the one and Only.
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If I do not respond to your roleplay, it's likely because you have been muted or blocked. If you've treated me with disrespect OOC, you've already answered your own question. I have no interest in engaging with people who mistake arrogance for importance or believe poor behavior deserves my attention. Kindly direct your complaints elsewhere. As for sending your Master to speak on your behalf, don't bother. I neither require nor seek anyone's approval, and I have no intention of wasting my time on drama.
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◆ ✦ ◆ An adendum to my story is below ◆ ✦ ◆
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I'm a creator. Please check my Picks for my newest releases!
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My story is in my picks along with some other details. Find it yourself.

◆ ✦ ◆Please note the following boundaries:

• 𝗖𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦: Do not use derogatory or demeaning language toward me, These are not acceptable in OOC communication or directed at me.
• All roleplay must remain in character and in appropriate RP channels only.
• I have a name — Rapture. Please use it when addressing me OOC.
• Respectful communication is expected at all times, especially from customers.
• If i'm in a RP area, and you IM me or I, IM you, please keep OOC. I am not a slave in rl, PLEASE DO NOT treat me as if I am.

Respect is a two-way street. Any form of disrespect, harassment, or boundary violation will result in removal of access to my store and services without further discussion.

Thank you for your understanding.
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✦𝗧𝗔𝗨𝗥𝗨𝗦— soft in spirit yet unshakable in will; when pushed, the Bull awakens, fierce and divine, fully aware of their worth.✦ Taurus Woman. Peaceful until Pushed, then the Storm lasts forever. You've been warned. As it says here: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6tvvY00Q50&t=322s I'm a Taurus] . . . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` . . ` ✩ . . ` 　 . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` . . . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` . . ` ✩ . . ` 　 . . . ` ★ ☾ . ` . ` ★ ☾ . ` . . ` ✩ . .
✦𝗧𝗔𝗨𝗥𝗨𝗦 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡
She is an embodiment of the goddess in her corporeal form, the feminine Taurus is the zodiac’s ultimate Earth Mama. Ruled by Venus, the Empress of Love (whose motto is “All acts of love and pleasure are my rituals”), the Taurus woman lives completely by that truth. Beauty-loving, sensual, and at times even slightly hedonistic, the Taurus woman naturally embraces the finer things in life: Not only does she have refined tastes in material goods, she also has a deep reverence for nature. A female Taurus is woman of substance, who treats her body as a sacred temple. She is abundance personified, a living cornucopia in human form. Taurus is a fixed sign, which means that you will find traits such as determination, self-reliance, and perseverance in women born under the sign of the Bull. These women are powerful forces to be reckoned with – when they set their mind to something, you can bet that it happens!

[https://www.astrology.com/taurus-woman.html Taurus Woman]
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Everyone seems to have theme songs, here are mine:
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjeIJBJ-yww&list=RDgjeIJBJ-yww&start_radio=1 I'm Blessed] [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eqy_35Wwu-8&list=RDgjeIJBJ-yww&index=7 I AM]

⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩ EVERYTHNG in my profile is OOC Knowledge. If you did not learn it IC, then you do not know it!
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If you take anything out of my profile to use for RP, that is metagaming. It won't be allowed, and you do not know me because you recognize my name. Every piece of info in my picks is OOC. You do not get to use it for RP, or for identifying who I am. Everything must be discovered ICLY! You're not a magician, and derendering my clothing does not allow you to see who I am either.
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Learn everything ICLy, don't be a tag reader - my Profile is all OOC knowledge. If you are mean to me OOCly for *any* reason, consider this your only warning. I will mute you and you do NOT get 2nd chances to correct your behavior. ALSO DO NOT USE your OOC feelings toward me IC! --
Some more details in my First Life Tab.
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METAGAMING DO'S AND DON'TS:
I do not read everyone's Picks or Profile, do not assume I've read yours. If you have something you do not want to experience in RP, put it in (( )) but keep it short! Other then that if its something that is BTB that I'm doing, expect me to do it, even if its a personal preference of yours. If I read something in a profile, and then RP'd that, that would be called 'Metagaming,' I am not a metagamer. I prefer to do "everything' By The Book.
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IF I knew you in a past life, I hope that we can meet again, and renew old friendships & acquaintances.
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My Profile is ALL OOC knowledge.
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Strong suggestion about me. Do not talk shit about me behind my back --- it WILL get back to me. I'm not some little nobody, no matter how often you tell yourself that. I am a Somebody, and consider this, when I find out who is talking shit about me? you will be dealt with, in one way or another. And it won't be pretty.
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I have been in Gor for 29 years now. I began in Yahoo Messenger chat Gor, went to IRC, was there till 2009, then came to SL. I've been to GNC Gor, VoodooChat Gor, WebMaze Gor, Palace Chat Gor, and many other places. My Favorite was IRC, till I discovered Second Life. I've been here ever since.
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PLEASE Be patient, my RL can often be intense.
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Ultimately, we are here to write stories that entertain each of us, so that said, lets do that with patience, RESPECT, understanding, common sense & compassion. - (some of this was borrowed from another)
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Also, don't make the mistake that i am helpless.
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AMENDED PROFILE STORY DUE TO RECENT EVENTS:
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Night still clung to Turia when the Killer came for Rapture...entering without sound..... without hesitation...as though the darkness itself had opened before him. Before she could fully wake within the kajirae quarters..cords bound wrists & ankles with practiced precision... long dark hair gathered between parted lips becoming her gag...soft..humiliating..inescapable. Then he leaned near enough for the command to settle into her like iron. “You are to be silent.” She was kajira...& so she obeyed.

There had been no farewell to the Court of the Black Caste Brotherhood within Turia..... no plea offered...no attempt to flee the shadows she had served for nearly two hundred years. Long before many living men first took black steel into hand...Rapture had already belonged to the silence of the Black Caste...enduring through shifting cities..broken alliances...& generations of men like a dark silken thread woven quietly through the history of Gor itself. Yet it was not the first time fate had torn her life away & placed her elsewhere.

Only a short time before..... she had awakened stripped from the collar of the Master she had grown close to..... taken from him so completely that the ache of it still lingered quietly beneath soft skin & lowered lashes alike. No farewell then either..... no explanation..... only the cold realization that one life had ended while another had already begun around her. Now it happened once more..... though this time no mystery lingered behind it. An Assassin had openly come for her beneath cover of darkness.

Carried from Turia beneath the night sky..... she had been secured firmly across the saddle of a waiting tarn..... bound carefully so she could neither fall nor flee. Before flight..... the Killer wrapped her within a heavy black cloak..... shielding soft tanned skin & bound form alike from the brutal cold of the high winds. Then the tarn rose..... wings devouring distance as Turia vanished far beneath them.

No challenge followed her taking..... no blade of the Black Caste rose in pursuit..... no outrage whispered itself through hidden caste paths. It was as though her removal had long since been permitted before the Killer ever entered the kajira quarters. The journey stretched across days..... from tarn-back..... to shipboard passage..... always silent..... always watched. He fed her by his own hand alone..... gave water the same way..... every action carrying measured control & purpose. He was of the Assassins Caste..... disciplined..... absolute..... moving not with personal desire..... but with the cold certainty of one carrying out a will already decided beyond himself.

Somewhere within the silence surrounding the journey lingered the unmistakable sense that Priest Kings themselves had stirred the board. The Priest Kings had willed this girl moved..... & so she was carried across sky & sea like a living piece upon the vast game of Kaissa..... taken from the shadows of Turia..... delivered toward whatever purpose awaited her within Var Kor.

At last the voyage ended. Near the compound gates..... the Killer laid her carefully upon a dark blanket..... bindings still exact..... hair still holding silence between soft lips. Upon her rested a simple message pinned beneath the mark of a black dagger.

“A Prize for the taking. One Rapture within.”

Then he vanished back into the night..... leaving behind only the echo of his command.

It was there that Kage found her. He paused at the gates..... the scent of sea..... leather..... & distant travel lingering around the bound kajira. His gaze lowered first to the dagger mark..... then to the girl herself..... studying the deliberate craft of the bindings.

“A delivery,” he murmured quietly. “Not taken. Given.”

Stepping closer..... he examined her with measured calm..... recognizing the unmistakable hand of a trained Killer.

“Whoever brought you knew the craft… and chose this place for a reason.”

Then his voice lifted toward the compound behind him.

“Mine. Take her in. See she is settled… carefully.”

His gaze returned once more toward the silent kajira lying before him.

“You are heard… even in silence.”

Around them..... the stillness of Var Kor slowly stirred awake..... while Rapture remained exactly as she had been delivered..... silent..... bound..... & carried fully into a fate no longer her own.

Time passed within the camp..... & Rapture settled quietly into its rhythms..... tending the duties expected of a camp girl..... serving where required..... watching..... learning..... never knowing precisely what path the strange circumstances of her arrival had placed beneath her feet.

Then one afternoon..... Wolffe summoned her to follow him.

She moved obediently behind the Killer until he passed through the curtains of his own tent..... Rapture following into the familiar space. She had been there before..... had once rested upon his lap within those walls..... & the memory returned briefly as she lowered herself gracefully upon the fur rug before him.

Wolffe told her to remember his banner outside..... that this was his tent..... & Rapture quietly assured him that she knew it.

For a time she remained upon her knees..... gaze lowered..... waiting.

Then his questioning took a different turn.

She had come into the camp as a camp girl..... but before anything further could be decided..... Wolffe wanted to know whether any claim existed upon her that might prevent him from taking her for himself.

Rapture answered him truthfully.

Her path had been an unusual one..... filled with unexplained departures..... unexpected arrivals..... & the unseen hand of fate seeming to move her from one place to another. She had been brought to the camp beneath secrecy..... deposited at its gates by a Killer..... with no one following afterward to claim her or demand her return.

Whatever mysteries remained behind the circumstances that had brought her there..... one thing was certain.

There was nothing preventing Wolffe from claiming her.

She lifted her eyes toward the Killer before her..... & offered herself to the decision that was his alone to make.

**“Claim me then.”**

Wolffe considered what she had told him.

Then his decision was made.

**“I will take you as mine. I claim you as mine, Rapture.”**

The words settled over her with a finality no collar needed to explain.

Rapture looked upward toward him..... a smile touching her lips as she accepted what he had declared.

**“I am your slave, Master..... thank you.”**

Of course..... Wolffe immediately reminded his newly claimed girl that becoming his private slave did not excuse her from the duties of the camp.

Rapture understood.

She would continue to work beside the other girls..... perform the chores expected of her..... & pull her weight within the camp. But now another responsibility belonged particularly to her.

His tent.

His belongings.

His needs.

Her Master.

She shifted softly upon her knees before him..... the meaning of what had happened slowly becoming real.

The girl who had arrived beneath secrecy..... carried into the camp by circumstances she still did not entirely understand..... was no longer merely a girl belonging to the camp.

Wolffe had chosen her.

He had claimed her as his own.

And there..... kneeling upon the furs within the tent of the Killer who had taken her for himself..... Rapture gave quiet voice to the truth that now opened the next chapter of her life.

**“I am Owned.”**

But claiming was only the beginning of their story.

Time passed..... days folding quietly into hands..... & somewhere among the ordinary moments of service..... the tending of his tent..... the sound of his voice..... his expectations of her..... & the growing familiarity between Master & slave..... something within Rapture changed.

What had begun with obedience became devotion.

What had begun as belonging became something far deeper.

Rapture had fallen in love with her Master.

Not because a collar commanded it..... nor because ownership required it..... but because the heart beneath that collar had made its own choice.

She gave that heart entirely to Wolffe..... without reservation..... without keeping some guarded piece of herself hidden away.

The Killer had claimed Rapture as his slave.

In time..... **Rapture gave Wolffe her heart.**

(My Story was accepted by Kage. His story was added to mine, for my continuation.)


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Quotes I like from the books of John Norman:
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yes, very red lips; the movement of her exquisite body was a torment to observe; she looked at me with a slight smile, regarding the black of the tunic, the mark of the dagger; her lips were full and magnificently turned, probably a characteristic bred into her; I had no doubt this black-haired, cruelly beautiful woman was a bred Passion Slave. She was one of the most rawly sensuous creatures on which I had ever looked.
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"Her face was incredibly delicate, and her lips. Her face was extremely sensitive, and feminine. It was a face on which emotion could be easily read. Her lip was swift to tremble, her eyes swift to moisten, filling with bright tears. Her feelings were easily hurt, a valuable property in a slave girl. Too, she could not control her feelings, another excellent property in a slave girl. Her feelings, vulnerable, deep, exploitable, in her expressions and on her face, betrayed her, exposing her to men, and their amusement, as helplessly as her stripped beauty. They made her more easily controlled, more a slave."
Tribesmen of Gor, Pg. 104
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Goreans, in their simplistic fashion, often contend, categorically, that man is naturally free and woman is naturally slave. But even for them the issues are more complex than these simple formulations would suggest. For example, there is no higher person, nor one more respected, than the Gorean free woman. Even a slaver who has captured a free woman often treats her with great solicitude until she is branded.
Hunters of Gor Book 8 Page 311
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