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She then addressed herself, again, to the retaining of position, that lovely position which had been enjoined upon her for the evening, and which in any event was generally incumbent upon her, given the nature of her bondage, the position of the pleasure slave. She did not wish to risk discipline. If you would be a slave, dear haughty free sisters, thought Ellen, then be a slave. Know what it is to actually wear a collar and be owned! Know what it is to kneel naked, chained, before your master! Know what it is to cast him shy, fearful glances, trying to read his moods! Know what it is to service his compartments, perhaps shackled, to make his couch, to dust and clean, and cook, and sew, and launder, hoping that your services will be found satisfactory. Let your wash be sparkling, let your stitches be small, fine and straight! Know what it is to kiss the whip, knowing that it will be used on you if you are not fully pleasing. Know what it is to crawl fearfully to him, your master, bearing the whip in your teeth! Where are your brands and papers, dear free sisters? And have you ever stood stripped on an auction block, to be bid upon, as the property you are? On Earth Ellen had seldom, if ever, worn cosmetics, regarding them as ideologically inappropriate, an obvious confession of a terrible, unworthy desire, that of being attractive, literally attractive, in all that that means, to the opposite sex. When Ellen had looked in the mirror, after the make-up had been applied, she had been, for a moment, startled. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter )