"As I lay there I realized that he had cognized me well, as a master a girl; the corridor had been opened for my benefit, not his; he, with his skill and experience in such matters, had simply and easily read my emotions, my feelings, my nature; they had lain as open to him as my flesh; I had been unable to conceal aught from his discerning eye; he was a master of female psychology; nothing in me had been secret from him; I had been, with ease, "sized up" and understood; I shuddered, thinking how easy this would make me to control, how simple to manipulate and defeat; I was both gratified and frightened that this man understood me; I was gratified because I wanted, deeply, to be understood, and I was frightened, too, because I sensed the power this understanding would give him over me; I had little doubt, too, that he was the sort of man who would exploit this power; he would use it as naturally, as innocently, as savagely, as effectively, as a boar its tusks or a lion its claws; he understood me and owned me; how could I have been more helplessly his? I clenched the fists of my bound hands.

"Why then had I been bound? I supposed, perhaps, it was for purposes of discipline. Binding is excellent discipline. It is often used on this world for that purpose. Restraints, their psychological indignity and physical discomfort, particularly after a time, placed upon a girl by the will of a master, are among the simplest and most effective instruments of female instruction; they rank with food and the whip; a girl, under disciplinary binding, once released, is invariably eager to please; she does not wish to be rebound; the thongs have well apprised her of her place, which is at her master's feet.

"But I did not think I was being disciplined. My master had not seemed dissatisfied with me. My performance had not been superb, but surely I had tried hard, under his will, to be pleasing as a slave girl to the man he had designated.

"My master had not seemed angry or irritated. I did not think I was being disciplined. Why then had I been bound? I had labored diligently, and without inhibitions, as well as I could, as a poor, beautiful, commanded slave. I had done the best I could. Why then had I been bound?

"I had tried to resist the man for several minutes, and had managed to do so. I had held myself tight and rigid, and had tried to hold in all feeling. I had not wanted my master to see me squirm as a slave. I was still deeply ashamed that I had yielded to the man.

"Then, as I lay there bound, I asked myself why I should be ashamed? Was it wrong for a woman to yield helplessly to a man? Was it wrong for the heart to beat, to breathe, to feel? If the nature of the man were conquest and victory, what might then be the nature of the woman; could it be complementary; might it not be defeat, and delicious surrender and pleasure? I began to sweat in the bonds. Perhaps an equal must resist a man, but I was not an equal. I belonged to men! I could be a biological woman, as perhaps a free woman could not. I could be a primitive female, an owned woman, as they could not. I could be a woman, as they could not. Slavery made me free to be a woman. I reared up, sitting, my hands tied behind me. I could not free myself. My eyes were wild. I had no choice. I was forced to be a woman."

(Quote excerpt from Slave Girl of Gor)