“Do you wish me to submit to you now?” she begged.

“Do you wish me to submit to you now?” she begged.
“Do so,” said he. 

She fell to her knees before him, and lifted her head to regard him.
“I will be your slave,” she said. Then, she knelt back on her heels, lowered her head, and lifted and extended her arms, wrists crossed, as though for binding. She was very beautiful.
“I am your slave,” she said, “—Master.”

“Hasten to the Torian room,” said Rim. “In its privacy, I will have use for my slave.”
“May I not beg a name?” she asked.
He looked at her. “Cara,” he said.
She had been named.
“Go, Cara,” said he.
“Yes,” she whispered, “Master.”
She leaped to her feet and, weeping, fled from the room.

Hunters of Gor, p. 20-21

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