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I dare not comment on so bold, but so common, a view. If there is anything in it, and if it should be true, even obviously so, to an informed view, it may be only that the women of my world, in baring their faces, and such, in presenting themselves as attractive objects, thus encouraging men to their acquisition, are more open about their nature than yours, and, if this is so, would the women of my world not be, on the whole, more honest than yours? I trust my master will not beat me for this speculation. I do not think, ultimately, that there is that much difference, if any, between the free woman of Earth and the free woman of Gor. We are all women, and, being women, might we not be, all of us, appropriately, the slaves of men, the slaves of our masters? The auctioneer stood up, and the slaver's man ascended the steps of the block, and disappeared into the short passage to the left. In a moment he entered the cell. The other brunette and I both shrank back, but he seized her left wrist, and I saw her drawn from the cell. In a moment she appeared on the block before the small crowd, and the auctioneer began her sale. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter )