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Commonly he is well aware of her feelings, but how insulted, how furious, he might be, should she be so unwise or bold as to profess them! "Forgive me, Master," she whispered. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 30, Sentence #351)

Thus the slave may kneel before the master, tears in her eyes, her heart offered up to him as can only be the heart of a slave, and this obvious to him, but she knows his love is to be reserved, if it be given, at all, to a free woman, not to a slave, an animal he might obtain in any market. Thus she repines and dares not hope for his love. Thus she, conscious of the chasms between them, and of her lowliness, and unworthiness, fears to speak her heart. Commonly he is well aware of her feelings, but how insulted, how furious, he might be, should she be so unwise or bold as to profess them! "Forgive me, Master," she whispered. "How dare you love a free man?" "May not even a she-sleen love her master?" "The she-sleen is a splendid animal," he said. "You are a mere slave". "Forgive me, Master". - (Prize of Gor)