I know of no pleasure comparable to the pleasure of owning a woman, fully.
I know of no pleasure comparable to the pleasure of owning a woman, fully. It is indescribably delicious; it is glorious; it fills one with joy and power; it exalts and fulfills the blood. It teaches a male, in the thunderous currency of intellect and emotion, what is the true meaning of manhood.
Compared to it, the gratifications of pretense and denial, the insistence on subverting ones blood and virility in the name of a false manhood conditioned by a demented, antibiological society, are pallid indeed. Let those who can climb mountains climb then; let those who cannot climb them console themselves with denying their existence.
Rogue of Gor, p. 118-119