What is the worth of a slave?

To some they are no more than trash. Not more than the dust on the boot they shed at the end of the day. No better than a leaking pipe that seems to fill yet another empty void.  However this is not the case. To me a slave is the extension of my soul. They are the first thing I see when I wake with the sunshine in their eyes. The warmth of their touch, the sweet breath they leave on a cold morning as they soothe my mind and pains with sweet kisses.  They are the ones who keep my home steady and in order. They are the ones who get my clothes, draw my baths, cook my meals and serve me in all ways, but do not ask for anything in return. They are in short my entire life.

A man is judged by what he does, who he is. Men in Gor are judged by the chain, and why is it I ask? The true judge should be the smiles in the eyes of his girls, the flutter of their hearts when he walks in. What shines more than the sun that lies down the curve of their breast, and burns more than the passion in their soul?  The love and devotion that shows in their every movement is what should be the measurement.

They are the backbone of everything I do, and I do take care of them and their children if they have any. I provide to them what they do not have, or cannot obtain on their own. Their pleasing and obedient service is much rewarded. When I have to get after them for bad behavior it hurt me more as I care about them do not want them to shed a single tear. Though they not see it, their world is me, and mine is them.

In the best sword that defends the lands there are two edges, both sharp and deadly. Same is for the slave and Master relationship. The bond is the steel, the slave one side, the Master the other. Both working together, their love and devotion is the killing blow, the power in the blade.  It is life!