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I had seen him but once more, through the bars of an exposition cage, prior to my sale, in a place called Brundisium. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 11, Sentence #170)

Even then, I supposed, somewhere, there reposed an iron by which my thigh would be marked, chains which might encircle my limbs, collars which might enclasp my throat. Was there not, even then, a large, heavy, towering block waiting, somewhere, whose sawdust my bare feet might tread, from which I might be vended? I stirred, bound. I recalled how I had lain at his feet, supine, stripped and tied, hand and foot, looking up at him, in something like a warehouse. I had seen him but once more, through the bars of an exposition cage, prior to my sale, in a place called Brundisium. I had no doubt it was he who had brought me to Gor, to bondage, and the sales block. I supposed I should have hated him, but instead I knew, rather, I wanted his collar. Surely he had seen me as a slave. - (Smugglers of Gor)