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The point is that she knows herself his. Nudity, of course, is also helpful, as it dramatically increases her sense of vulnerability, and then every inch of her skin and body is exposed, and aware, and alive to even the slightest breath of air, the tiniest fold of a cloth surface, to the least and gentlest touch. Briefly did I ponder such things. Are they truly so esoteric, I wondered, a message lurking in some ancient palimpsest, propositions expressed in secret, forgotten languages, a doctrine concealed within strata of meticulous encipherments, so deep as to be fathomed only after years of study, so subtle as to be detected only by a gifted, trained cognoscenti, introduced into a final sanctuary of at last unveiled mysteries? I did not think so. I thought rather the palimpsest was within us, the languages not so much forgotten as sometimes denied, that one dealt here indeed with deep and profound matters, but not really with obscure encipherments; rather one was here dealing with a doctrine written indelibly and ineradicably, indisputably and irrecusably, in the blood and heart of a species, a doctrine that spelled out the fundamental words of human nature, words that explained us to ourselves. Women desire to submit; they hope to encounter a man to whom they must submit; women desire to serve; they hope to encounter a man whom they must serve; the deepest desire of a woman, fight it though she may feel she should, is to be owned and mastered; it is their fervent hope to some day encounter a man who will satisfy this desire, a man who will put them to their knees before him, a man by whom they will be owned and mastered. "Gather up those boxes and packs, and that which might seem to be of any value here," said Boots to his fellows. - (Players of Gor, Chapter )