“Do you fear me?” he asked.

“Do you fear me?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said. How small, helpless, and weak I felt, kneeling before him. I was a scion of a far world kneeling before a Gorean master.
“It is well,” he said, “that a slave fear her master.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.

Smugglers of Gor, p. 204

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