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How helpless we are in their hands! Initially, weeks ago, I had surrendered myself, at least in part, for fear of the consequences of a master's displeasure, or even his failure to find me fully pleasing. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #43)

There are a thousand ecstasies, and a thousand yieldings, each in a sense the same, and yet each different. What is common in each is that one is slave, and one is master. Sometimes, if only lfom a chagrin at my lowliness, or perhaps in an attempt to recover something of my former free woman's independence and pride, I had resolved to resist the attentions to which I found myself subjected, but I had soon found myself succumbing as might any other collar slut, which I now was. How helpless we are in their hands! Initially, weeks ago, I had surrendered myself, at least in part, for fear of the consequences of a master's displeasure, or even his failure to find me fully pleasing. In my training, as brief as it was, I had been taught the lash of the switch and, once, the stroke of the whip, and would go to great lengths to avoid both. I also learned that there are infallible signs in a slave's body, signs of authentic response, which signs are easily read by Gorean males. They easily detect, and do not accept, pretense. - (Smugglers of Gor)