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That was the simplicity, and the terror, of it. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 8, Sentence #113)

How she would hate and despise men who were too weak for the mastery, who would fearfully seek to avoid its privileges, powers and responsibilities! No, he, and others like him, were far from weak! They were strong, much stronger than the timid, boring weaklings so endemic, like bacteria, on her former world. He, as others on this world, was strong enough, mighty enough, to expect, require, and enforce the deference due them, to require and enforce the submission of the principle of femininity, in all its wondrous softness, desirability and beauty, to a more severe, more dangerous principle, that of their masculinity. On this world men were the masters, at least of women such as she. That was the simplicity, and the terror, of it. "Does that word cost you much?" he asked. "No, Master," she whispered. "Slave," he sneered. - (Prize of Gor)