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In my dreams, and reveries, I had worn many collars and served many masters. I do not know, of course, if this sort of thing is the case with other women. I can speak only for myself. How I had fought this suspicion, the dreams and reveries, this whispering, pressing conviction that I was a slave, a natural slave! Was I such that I should be a rightless possession? Did I long to be owned, to have a master? Did I long to love and serve, surrendered and vulnerable, helpless, owned, and choiceless, to serve rightlessly, helplessly, selflessly? How fearful, how terrible! What tumult, what misery! It was antithetical to all that I had been taught, against all the rules and prescriptions I was not to question, opposed to all the lies and artificialities in which one must pretend to believe, so uncritically and unquestioningly. One is torn between convention, armed and aggressive, and socially coercive, and truth, between formulas and words and one's heart and blood. So it seemed with me. Let it be with you, as you might wish. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter )