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How frightening, for her, to realize that one has such value! And yet in its way how exciting, and thrilling! Few women object to their beauty, to their desirability, to their allure, to the knowledge that they are the sort of woman whom men want, really want, truly want. - (Guardsman of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #267)

And I recalled her, too, from an evening at a restaurant, when she had worn, so seemingly unaccountably, an incongruous-for-her, lovely, off-the-shoulder, svelte, white, satin-sheath dress. This was the consequence, it seemed, somehow, of a troubling interview she had had earlier with a man whom I now knew to have been either a Gorean slaver, or one in league with such. She, confused and fearful, as a consequence of that interview, it seemed, had begun to sense her femininity, had begun to sense that she had value of a sort, that she might be lusciously special in a way she scarcely dared to recognize, and feared to contemplate, that she might be such that men might find her, say, of interest, even of considerable interest. How frightening, for her, to realize that one has such value! And yet in its way how exciting, and thrilling! Few women object to their beauty, to their desirability, to their allure, to the knowledge that they are the sort of woman whom men want, really want, truly want. Is this not something that they hope for? Yet how offensive that would have been to her grosser peers! But did they not suspect that, and was that not why she was demeaned and marginalized amongst them? Surely she did not fit in with them. She was different, so different, so extremely different. She was a woman, a true woman, something quite other than they. - (Guardsman of Gor)