He took me by the hair and thrust my head down to the furs. "A man can truly love only that woman," he said, "who is truly his, who belongs to him. Otherwise he is only a part to a contract."

"A woman, " I said, "can love only that man to whom she truly belongs."

"To whom do you truly belong, Slave?" he asked.

"To you, Master," I said.

We all seem to have a particular cultural conception about what "love" is supposed to entail. Perhaps we should qualify it, as you have done, and refer to it as "romantic love."

According to our cultural dictates, "romantic love" consists of a monogamous sexual partnering which lasts for life, and in which both partners are perfect equals in the amount of effort they expend to maintain the relationship. Both partners are supposed to instantly give to the other what they require to be fulfilled and happy. There is no violence between them, nor are there any disputes. They are perfect friends, perfect partners, and perfect lovers... ala, "True Love."

But there are many different kinds of love. I love my Free Companion. I also love a good steak and a cold beer on a hot summer night. Both examples of "love," except love to varying degrees and according to varying circumstances.

All love is like that. Not often does it live up to the cultural dictates which we have assigned to it. If it did so, there would be fewer divorces, since everyone would faithfully and faultlessly "love each other always," which is precisely what they promised to do when they both stood at the alter and exchanged wedding vows.

But love doesn't work like that. It has its high points and low points. It comes and goes, and sometimes it just goes away when the factors which contributed to its original existence are altered. One has to work hard to maintain it. And it comes in countless variations.

So when a male collars a female, he certainly "loves" her. He must. The only alternative would be that he fears her (though the feminists would undoubtedly crow that fear is precisely why he does it). So, yes, he loves her. Just maybe not in the same way he would love a Free Companion or wife.

Why not?

Well, maybe he cannot do so. If his female seeks to be dominated and ruled by a strong Master, he could never do such a thing if he were to feel the sort of "romantic love" we have discussed above. Because the demands of Mastery and the narrow definition of "romantic love" don't really have matching criteria. Our culture says that no true lover would enforce his will upon his loved one. The same way that our culture says that no true lover would ever have any respect for a female partner who was a sexually active "slut" in the bedroom.

It is our very unrealistic concept of "romantic love" which gums up the works, and screws us up when we seek a fulfilling relationship which is not within those narrow parameters.

Some men have the brass cajones to remain true to their manhood and to be strong men for their women, and do so within the confines of "true love," with turtledoves crooning and lovebirds flitting outside their window. They express their great love for their female but do not allow their females to walk all over them in the process. A bargain is struck, and all is well.

Some men cannot do this. Their culture has imbranded deep emotional compulsions within them, and threatens them with severe punishment if they do so. So they must psychologically place their females outside of the invisible boundaries of "romantic love" in order to preserve their independence from what they perceive to be feminine control, and to preserve their inner manhood.

Ladies... ever wonder why men are so often unwilling to confess their love for you? Well, that's why.

In the Master/slave relationship, the stakes are higher. The control over the female must be total, and must be maintained at all costs. To admit to our culture's concept of "romantic love" while still maintaining the integrity of the M/s relationship is often perceived to be a crippling impediment to the aloofness one requires to punish and dominate. Therefore, it is easier to "Master" a female whom one does not "love" (in the traditional, romantic sense).

Love is still a very important part of it. But it is not "romantic love" as our culture defines it. It is romantic love as the Master and the slave have chosen to define it. It is a new thing, and can be deeper and more emotionally fulfilling than all the flowers and chocolates and moonlit strolls ever envisioned.

We all must fight the stereotype. Formerly, we used to be much more practical about it... marriage was a social contract which was not supposed to be a mystical soul-union at all, but a long lasting partnership and friendship with the mutual goal of creating a family. That is what the Free Companionship on Gor is, and what marriage used to be here on Earth.

Romantic? Not really. Practical? Absolutely.

The fairly recent "have your wedding cake and eat it too" attitude which hit western culture during the Victorian era has altered how we perceive such relationships, and what we expect from them. The refusal to acknowledge human failings within such unions has wreaked havoc with those who chase the romantic version of marriage and simply cannot achieve it. But the kind of love which is most beneficial is built over a long period of time, and does not occur during a six month courtship.

The same holds true for the M/s relationship. In time, the Master may come to redefine his feelings as love, and as the intense devotion to one's female which we all associate with "romantic love." But first he must leap the hurdle which results in his embracing "tough love" as a very valid form of male/female love.

"I love you," cried Ho-Tu, "I love you!".

"I too," said she, "love you, Ho-Tu. " He stood as though stunned. A strong man, he seemed shaken. His hands trembled on her. In his black eyes I saw tears. "Love," asked he, "for Ho-Tu, less than a man?"

"You are my love," said Sura, "and have been for so many years."

He looked at her, hardly daring to move.

"Yes," she said.

"I am not even a man," said he.

There was a soft, startled cry from the side where, miserable, shivering, partly bent over, her arms clutched about her, stood blond Yata, the slave of Otto. She had crept forth from the hall, and, until then, had been muchly unnoticed. Aware of eyes upon her, she knelt in the snow, putting her head down to it.

"I will give you a thousand sheep, and a thousand pigs, for her," said Citherix.

Men cried out, amazed, at the bounty of such an offer.

"She is not for sale," said Otto.

"I must have her," said Citherix.

"But she is not yours," said the giant.

"I will have her or die," said Citherix.

"I do not understand," said the giant.

"I love her," said Citherix, angrily.

The slave, to the side, cried out, startled, softly.

There was rude laughter, amongst the men and women outside the hall. "He loves a slave!" laughed a man.

"A slave!"laughed another.

"He is a fool!" said a man.

"Yes," said another.

There was more laughter.

"I will have her or die,"said Citherix.