Farewell to Master Black Ort
It took me five days to find the courage to write the words that follow, and even now, I write them with a lump in my throat and tears burning in my eyes.
But I must write. Black Ort, affectionately known to many as Master Black, passed away last Thursday. Who was he? I will not discuss his private life; that is the privilege of his wife, Io, and hers alone.
He was 70 years old, and it was easy to forget that, both because of his progressive, modern mind and his enthusiasm and rich, powerful, joyful voice, which everyone could hear every Sunday from 7 p.m. SLT during the Gorean University round tables. He created Gorean University in 2008, a set of Second Life sims centered around the idea of offering people an educational space to discover the world of Gor, John Norman’s novels, and roleplay in the world of Gor on Second Life.
From 2008 to 2025, Gorean University remained a haven, a refuge, a place of learning, and of course a place of education for generations of players wanting to discover kajirae roleplay. A few years ago, Master Black had a very serious health issue that complicated the activities of Gorean University, but it has always continued its work and its goal. Every Sunday, and also two to three times a week, people gathered on site to participate in roundtable discussions broadcast on Whip Radio and open classes, where everyone was welcome.
I remember that, when it came to this warm and friendly welcome, he laughed and agreed with my example that anyone could come, even dressed in a pink tutu!
He died five days ago of a heart attack and joined the Stars without suffering, without having to endure the agony of death. All in all, it was a beautiful death, an enviable way to go, and I am happy that his end came about in this way.
But I mourn him bitterly.
He leaves behind Io Ort, his now widowed wife, distraught, for whom life will become a terrible struggle—and an administrative hell. I know she has people around her and I hope everything will be all right. But it is also for her that I mourn, because I love her as much as I loved Master Black. And whatever anyone says, the death of a loved one is a bloody injustice. The greatest pain one is forced to face. He also leaves behind his kajira, Pita, who loved him with all her soul and who is also completely lost and inconsolable.
And then he leaves us, his family on Second Life. For a long time, I considered this notion somewhat exaggerated, but it was with my Mistress, Lyra Sophitia Aurelia, with him, with Io, that I discovered that it had meaning, real value. And that the day you lose the father figure of this family, you endure a pain equal to that of losing a loved one, with practically no difference.
Finally, he leaves behind hundreds of people who admired, loved, and respected him. He influenced generations of Gor Second Life players, was a teacher, guide, or inspiration to many of them. He was, like me, one of the few who had read all the novels and a good part of Norman’s writings, maintaining a critical mind and the right to judge these writings in a lucid and reasoned manner.
Master Black was a humanist, a progressive, both in social matters and in the specific context of BDSM practice or the approach to the world of Gor. The novels were not a bible to him, and he fought against that idea. They were the literary source of a fiction capable of warmly welcoming all sensibilities, in an open and inclusive manner. He was the first to say—and he was 70 years old!—that the world had completely changed since Norman’s first writings in the 1960s, and that Gor SL had to change with the world. He hated sexism, misogyny, racism, discrimination, abusive men, and closed-minded players, and he fought them with wisdom and resolve, and a bite that made me proud and happy.
This is how he left his mark on hundreds of Gor SL players, this is how he passed on his wisdom and advice to them, and this is how these players will remember him forever.
His legacy will not end. His family, we, have a duty to continue his work. I don’t know how yet. We are still in mourning. But Master Black will never be forgotten.
And finally, here are my own words… what he meant to me…
“Friend, mentor, confidant, father figure. Of all the men I have met on this Earth, you were one of the most humanistic, one of the most kind and good. Few humans are free of prejudice towards others, and you were one of them. For everyone else, you were a teacher, a master, and a guide on Gor, a beacon in a dark world. For me, you were a mentor, an inspiration, and the man I trusted most on SL.
I needed you, and I didn’t even know how much. Now I know, and it’s too late… You have joined the Stars in peace… but that doesn’t console me. You leave us your legacy, of which we are the custodians, because you always believed in us… but I don’t have an ounce of self-confidence. You admired my work, and you were proud to tell me so. But my pride is in the toilet, and I only see it in the eyes of those who are proud of me.
Now I’ll have to do without you. For the others. For those you loved, and whom I love. Because they too are alone, and crying, just like me. Because they are suffering, they are like me, devastated, and like me, it all weighs so heavily on their shoulders. I wasn’t ready for your death… I will always love you. I will try to make you proud again. »
Message fro Io Ort, master Black wife :
“Oh Kara… If you only knew… He accepted you as you were and as you wanted to be. He told me every time he touched you. Every time he talked to you. Every time he had you in a muchly manly way. You didn’t just please him, you gave him something that I can’t even begin to describe. Sure, you were Lady Lyra’s, but for those moments, you were HIS and HIS alone, and he loved every second of it, and would play it back in his mind until he took me deep into his arms to scream out his name. You left him horny, and wanting his own full release… You needed him. He needed you. He needed every single one of you.
The Gorean University Round Table at Whipstock, with the presence of Master Black and his voice, lest we forget.
