"They had seen, I gathered, few Earth girls. They did not understand the effects of years of insidious, pervasive, antibiological conditioning. Their own culture, perhaps because, of the limitations imposed on it by Priest-Kings, who did not wish to be threatened or destroyed by an animal with which they shared a world, had taken different turnings. They would not understand a world in which dirty jokes had a point, a world in which a woman's attractiveness was supposedly a function of the utilization of certain commercial products, or a world in which men and women were taught that they were the same, and in which they attempted to believe it, and would hysterically insist it was true, bravely ignoring the evidence of their reason, senses, and experience. Civilization may be predicated upon the denial of human nature; it may also be predicated upon its fulfillment."
Explorers of Gor, page 37
"She looked down bitterly. I knew this type of response. The woman who fears she cannot please men then sometimes tends to feel hostility toward them, perhaps turning her own rage and inward disappointment outward, laying the blame upon them, and developing the obvious defensive reactions of belittling sexuality and it's significance, and attempting, interestingly, to become manlike herself, to be one with them, though in an aggressive, competitive manner, often attempting to best them, as though one of themselves. Since she was not found desirable as a woman she attempts to become a more successful man than the men who failed to note her attractiveness. This type of response, however, however natural on Earth in such a situation, would not be feasible on Gor in a slave. Gorean free women, of course, may do what they wish. The slave girl, on the other hand, does not compete with the master, but serves him. The blond-haired girl might or might not hate men, but on Gor, as a slave, she would serve them, and serve them well. The woman who fears that she is unattractive to men, of course, is generally mistaken. She need only learn to please men. A woman who pleases men, and pleases them on their own terms, would, on Earth, be a startling rarity, an incredibly unusual treasure. On Gor, of course, she would be only another of hundreds, of thousands of delicious slaves. On Gor a readiness to please men, and an intention to do so, and on their own terms, is expected in any girl one buys. Should a girl prove sluggish in any respect, it is simple to put her under discipline. Eventually, of course, a woman learns that to please a man on his own terms is the only thing that can, ultimately, fulfill her own deepest needs, those of the owned, submitting love slave."
Explorers of Gor, page 39
"The female slave, in the fullness of her womanhood, and helplessness, attains heights of passion from which the free woman, in her pride and dignity, is forever barred. She is not a man's slave."
Explorers of Gor, page 41
"I suspected she would become paga hot, hot enough to serve even in the paga taverns of Gor."
Explorers of Gor, page 41
"Frigidity is accepted by Goreans only in free women. Slave fires, of course, lurk in every woman. It is only a question of arousing them. Once the slave discovers her sexuality, a venture in which the humiliated slave, to her dismay, is forced to participate to the fullest, she can never again ignore it. Once she has begun to learn the orgasms of the slave girl she can never again be contented with anything less. She is then a master's girl. "I beg for your touch, Master," she whispers. Perhaps he will satisfy her; perhaps he will not. It is his whim. He is master."
Explorers of Gor, page 47
"Surely she must have sense that the mouth kiss which she had so helplessly proffered, and had proffered as a slave, was the symbolic opening of her vagina to male penetration."
Explorers of Gor, page 106
"How these Earth women fight the natural woman in themselves. As far as I could tell it was not wrong to be a woman, any more than it was wrong to be a man. I do not know, of course, for I am not a woman. Perhaps it is wrong to be a woman. If not, why should they fight it so? But perhaps weak men, who fear true women, have conditioned them so. It is not clear that any true man would object to a true woman. It is clear, however, that those who fear to be either will object to both. Values are interesting. How transitory and peculiar are the winds which blow over the plains of biology."
Explorers of Gor pg 106
"Yet, as I regarded her, I saw more in her body and beauty than the mere intelligence of a collard slave.
I saw something, incipiently, of the joy and pride of the slave girl, the girl who knows that though her body is being placed in bondage her womanhood, paradoxically, is being freed."
Explorers of Gor, page 111
"What a subtle thing is a woman's beauty. How little it has to do, actually, generally, with such matters as symmetry of form and regularity of features. It eludes scales and tapes: mathematics cannot, I think, penetrate its mysterious equations. I have never understood beauty; but I am grateful that it exists."
Explorers of Gor, page 111
"Already I could see many signs, some subtle and some quite obvious, that the secret slave, which lurks in every woman, had begun to sense, fearfully, excitedly, that she had been brought to a world on which she might perhaps be free at last to emerge; had the chains been removed; she lifted her wrists; had her small limbs now been unfettered; she looked up form the straw, up the long, narrow stairs toward the iron door; was it now ajar; since her birth a pathological culture had thrust her into the dungeon of suppression, confining her in the darkness; her very reality and existence had been ignored and hysterically denied; but at times, sometimes in dreams, or idle moments, her screams for mercy, unheeded, had been heard from the darkness below; or was it only the sound of the wind; I suspected that the blond-haired girl, uneasily, had many times heard the cries of the imprisoned slave; the slave now, her fetters struck away by Gorean men, crept toward the iron door; could it truly be ajar; had men opened it; outside the door the blond-haired girl, tremblingly, waited; the slave was going to emerge; but the slave feared to emerge; behind her the blond-haired girl heard strong men summon forth the slave; the slave would come forth; then the blond-haired girl would gasp, for she would see that it was she herself who was the slave. Then she would feel a collar being locked on her throat, and she would kneel in the sunlight at the feet of a master."
Explorers of Gor, page 113
"How ignorant women are. Do they not know how beautiful they are? Do they not know how incredibly exciting they are to men? Do they not know how they are wanted, how fiercely they are desired. If only they could see themselves but once through a man's eyes, would they not be terrified to leave the house lest they be stripped and put under the iron, and collared, by the first man who sees them? Perhaps it is well for women not to know how desirable they are. How they might fear men, if they but knew. I speak, of course, of the men of Gor and those of a Gorean nature.
And yet on Gor women who are put in collars do not long remain ignorant of their own beauty and its meaning. It is soon taught to them, for they are slaves. Perhaps it is only the slave girl, of all women, kneeling and owned, placed uncompromisingly at the mercy of men, who had some sense of her own desirability. What woman can begin to understand men, who has not been owned one?"
Explorers of Gor, page 119
"I supposed the secret slave knew well that her jailer was the blond-haired girl. But I did not think the blond-haired girl realized, or fully realized, that she herself was the slave she so cruelly suppressed.
The blond haired girl then, timidly, lifted her eyes to mine.
I looked at her.
Gorean men, despite her will, would free that slave. The blond-haired girl would have no choice but to become her deepest, fullest and most ancient self. The lies of her false civilization cast aside, the veneers of her acculturation rent and discarded, being of no interest to Gorean men, who did not share them, the deepest and most primitive female animal in her would be liberated. She would be made to be a woman."
Explorers of Gor, page 121
"I can be attractive, if I wish," she said.
"I doubt it," he said.
"Behold!" she said, striking a pose.
"It is fraudulent," he said. "Women such as you understand nothing of attractiveness. With you it is a matter of externals, of acting. Any true man sees through it immediately. You confuse the pretense with the truth, the artificial and imitative with the reality. You think you could become attractive but merely choose not to be so. It is a delusion, as you understand these things. This permits you to console yourself with lies and, at the same time, provides you with an excuse for despising and belittling the truly attractive woman, thinking she is merely, as you would be, if you were she, acting. But it is not true. The source of a woman's attractiveness is within her. It is internal. It comes from the inside out. She is vulnerable, and desires men, and wishes to be touched and owned. This then shows in her body and movements, and in her eyes and face. That is the truly attractive woman."
Explorers of Gor, pages 142-143
"I did not think she was unintelligent. It was only that her Earth mind was not quick to grasp that she might, almost unbelievably, almost incomprehensibly to her, be placed in certain categories.
"Give me the key," she said.
"Whose collar do you wear?" he asked.
"That of Pembe, of course," she said.
"What do you with to do with it?" he asked.
"Remove it, of course," she said.
"But it is Pembe's collar," she said.
"Yes," she said.
"Thus," said he, "if or when it is removed is surely a determination to be made not by you but by Pembe."
"What are you saying!" she cried.
"Are all women on your former world as dull as you?" he asked.
"What do you mean 'my former world'?" she asked.
"Precisely what I said," said he, "that world which was formerly yours. Surely you must now know that your world is Gor, that it is the Gorean world, and only the Gorean world, which is now yours."
"No!" she cried.
"You are a Gorean slave girl," he said."
Explorers of Gor, page 163
"Beware," I said. "You are naked and kneeling. You wear a slave collar. It will not be easy to lie."
Explorers of Gor pg 172
"She looked up at me. "How can you respect me?" she asked.
"You are not to be respected," I told her. "You are only a slave."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You no longer have any pride to guard," I said. "A slave is not permitted pride."
Explorers of Gor, page 175
"Your obligation is not to respect yourself," I told her, "but to be yourself."
(said to Evelyn by Tarl regarding her wishing to respect herself)
Explorers of Gor, page 175
"Is it wrong for a woman to be a woman?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "yes! It is wrong, and demeaning!"
"Interesting," I said. "What should a woman be?" I asked her.
"She should be a man!" she said.
"But, quite simply, you are not a man," I told her.
"I dare not be a woman," she wept.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because," she said, " I sense, in my heart, that a woman is a slave."
"Is it not permissible for a slave to be a slave?" I asked.
"No!" she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I do not know!" she wept. "I do not know!"
"Can it be wrong to be what one truly is?" I asked.
"Yes, yes!" she cried.
"It is wrong for the tree to be a tree, the rock a rock, the bird a bird?" I asked.
"No,no," she said.
"Why, then," I asked, "is it wrong for a slave to be a slave?"
"I do not know," she said.
"Perhaps it is not wrong for a slave to be a slave," I said.
Explorers of Gor, page 175-176
"I smiled at her. "This time, and this time alone," I said, "I will give you a choice."
"A choice?" she said.
"A slave's choice," I told her.
"What is it?" she asked.
"You may yield-or die," I told her.
Explorers of Gor, pages 176-177
"Merely to look at the curtains excites me." She touched her collar. "Merely to touch my collar excites me. To kneel on the furs, to feel them on my body, to be kneeling itself, before a man, excites me. To be naked before him, on my knees, makes me miserable with the desire for his touch."
Explorers of Gor, page 184
"It is permissible, I suppose," she said, "for a slave to be passionate."
"It is not only permissible for a slave to be passionate," I said.
"Master?" she asked.
I held her very tightly.
"Yes Master," she whispered.
"A slave," I said, " must be passionate."
"Master?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "the slave girl has no choice. She must be passionate."
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
"Moreover," I said, "she is to be proud of her passion. It is one of the most splendid, and beautiful and joyful things about her."
Explorers of Gor, page 192
"Passion, technically," I said, "has nothing to do with the imposition of the yoke of slavery. It is, of course, afterwards required of the enslaved woman. Passion is commanded of her."
Explorers of Gor, pages 193-194
"I come from a far world," she said. "The girl from that world is ashamed. The girl on this world, the slave, is not ashamed. She is proud." She put her head to the side. "How shamelessly proud she is," she said.
"The girl from the far world," I told her, "no longer exists. What exists now, in her place, is herself transformed, herself become a beautiful slave at the mercy of a master."
Explorers of Gor, page 194
"You are frightened," I said. She had lost much ground since Schendi. "Do you not remember the beautiful girl you saw in the mirror, in Schendi?" I asked.
"She was a slave," whispered the girl.
Of course," I said.
"I fear her," she said.
"She is the slave beauty within you," I said. "Indeed, she is the true you, glimpsed but for an instant, your true self, seen but for a moment, begging to be freed."
"I dare not free her," she said. "She is too beautiful, and sensuous."
"You do not dare to be what you are?" I asked.
"No," she said. "If that is what I am, I dare not be it."
"Why?" I asked.
"It is too beautiful, and sensuous, and helpless and yielding."
"And yet, in your heart," I said, "you ache to be it."
"No," she said, "no."
I said nothing.
"I am in conflict," she said, miserably.
"Resolve the conflict," I told her. "Free the slave within you, she who is suppressed, your true self."
"No, no," she said, pressing her cheek against my shoulder. I felt tears.
"You will never achieve happiness," I told her, "until you have acknowledged her."
"No," she whispered.
"She must be freed," I said, "that lovely girl, the slave, yearning for a collar within you, your truest and deepest self."
"I dare not free her," she said.
"Is honesty so terrible?" I asked.
"A woman must have dignity," she said.
"Are self-deceit, and lies and hypocrisy, so noble?" I inquired.
"I dare not free the slave," she said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"I fear that I may be she," she whispered.
"You are she," I said.
"No, no," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"I am not a Gorean girl," she said.
"The women of Earth, collared and broken to the whip," I said, "make superb slaves."
"Oh," she said, as I touched her.
"You are dry and tight," I told her.
"Forgive me, Master," she said, bitterly.
"You are not now on Earth," I told her. "Here no one will chide you for being lovely and sensuous. Here you need not feel guilty for being loving and feminine."
"I am not a Gorean slut," she said.
Explorers of Gor, pages 279-280
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Whatever Master wishes," she said.
"It is true," I said.
She smiled at me. "I have been owned by many men," she said. "I have had many names."
Explorers of Gor, page 289
"The kneeling girl lifted her head, regarding me. "I beg your touch," she said. "My need is much on me."
Explorers of Gor, page 289
"It is said," I said, " that the women of Earth are natural slaves."
"It is true," she whispered.
"It is also said they are the lowest and most miserable of slaves, and are to be used as such."
"It is true, Master," she said. She looked down. "That has been well taught to me on Gor," she said. She looked up. "Please take me in your arms," she said. "I am an Earth woman who has been made a Gorean slave girl. You need not respect me as you might a Gorean woman and I am further only a slave. Do not respect me!"
"I do not," I told her.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"I am an imbonded Earth woman," she said. " I am among the lowest and most miserable of slaves. Take me in your arms, I beg you, and treat me as such."
Explorers of Gor, page 291
"The slave girl moves, and carries herself, differently from a free woman. This is evident in such small things as fetching a cup for her master or in pouring his wine. These movements, and bodily attitudes and postures, subtle and beautiful, difficult to fully disguise, have betrayed more than one slave beauty who, disguised as a free woman, has sought to flee a city. The spears of guards, lowered, to her dismay, suddenly block her way. "Where are you going, Slave?" they ask. She is then knelt and stripped, her collar and brand revealed. Returned to her master, she may be confident that her punishment will not be light."
Explorers of Gor, page 318
"I held her, tightly, and looked sternly into her eyes. "You are not a man," I told her. "You are a woman. That is what you are. Try to understand that. You are a woman, not a man."
"Yes Master," she sobbed.
"It is thus permissible for you, truly, to move as a woman, and to feel and think and behave like a woman."
"I am a slave," she said, " and yet, strangely, I am beginning to feel so free."
Explorers of Gor, page 336