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"Yes!" I saw then that her small rebellion had been no more than a foolish sop to her pride, one perhaps she thought in order, I wondered if she had uttered her silly noise only because I was there, who had known her when she was a mere free woman. I hoped not. But in any case, whether because of her own pride, in itself, or her concern that I who had known her as a free woman was about, or because of the strangers in the crowd, or the other slave girls, or whatever, how woefully out of place was that absurd utterance in her new reality! But then I saw in her eyes, she half laughing, half crying, that whatever had been her motivation, whether some or all of the things I had wondered about, or even others, that she had only wanted the reassurance of the whip, the reassurance of the inflexibility of the will of men, that she must now obey, and was truly a slave. Moving as she did, and being what she was, a slave, was the deepest and most wonderful thing in her being, and she reveled in it, and loved it! She had wanted only the clear understanding that she must now surrender to it, that she was now truly a slave. She was elated in the harness. At an end then were her vanities and her inhibitions, her reservations and hesitations, her reluctances and all the stultifying pretenses and falsities of her hitherto shackling, self-denying, alleged liberty, the burdensome equipages of meretricious, traitorous, self-betraying claims and dignities, all this now replaced with a new liberty, a genuine liberty, that to be what in her heart she truly was, an eager, ready, desiring slave, joyous in her categorical subjection at last to her true nature, that of the human female, in her place in nature, where she belongs, and wants to be, at the feet of masters. No longer would she be permitted to frustrate, other than in the way any beautiful woman must cast frustration about her by her very beauty alone. - (Renegades of Gor, Chapter )