Dancer of Gor

I wondered if my Master was weak. Some men are very strong with men, and yet weak with their women. He just said I was beautiful. That was surely a compliment. Surely it had shown some interest in me, or approval in me, surely in one respect. He said I was beautiful. Could I not then, though it was I in the collar, make use of these feeling to own him? He must like me then, just a little. That seemed likely, Indeed he must care for me. I suspected even perhaps he might love me. Perhaps I could make use of that. I wondered if he was weak. It would not hurt for me to test him. I knew that some girls twisted their Masters about their little fingers. I wondered if I could do that. "I wondered how you might behave if I gave you even a hort of room, even an Ihn of indulgence. But he then seized my wrists and, with a thong, bound them together, before my body. He then dragged me toward a low hanging branch and tied my hands, so bound, over my head to the branch. He then whipped me. He then angrily, released me from the branch, I blubbering and weeping, half in shock, and dragged me back to the blankets. There he threw me to the foot of the blankets and chained me there, hand and foot, I looked up at him in terror. Then angrily, he layed down on the blankets, drawing them around himself, to sleep. I lay there in misery until morning, He was my Master, I loved Him! I loved him more than anything! But I had failed my first test with him! I had only wanted to know, foolishly the nature of my power with him, if any, and the nature of discipline to which I might be subject. I had only wanted to know, if truly I was his slave or not. Then he made me serve him, uncompromisingly. Then he had whipped me and put me chained, at his feet. Yet too, I felt grandly and warmly assured as to his strength and dominance. I knew then my Master was Master, that he would never relinquish his sovereignty, that he was a true man. I was content now, and eager, a female, to be his perfect slave. If I had failed the test he passed mine. ~ Dancer of Gor, pg. 475