“Yes,” I said. “I sense,” she said, “what my true master would be like.”

“Yes,” I said. “I sense,” she said, “what my true master would be like.”
“Any man who owns you is your true master,” I said.
“That is true,” she laughed. “But I have a dream of a perfect master, to whom I could be but a perfect slave.”

Beasts of Gor, p. 384

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