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I must hate them all, all, even he whom I had unsuccessfully attempted to banish from my least thoughts. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #728)

It was not he in whose power I longed to lie helpless, whose voice and image had so often figured in my hopes and heart. I recalled him from the emporium on my former world, from a warehouse, from an exposition cage! It was on his chain that I longed to yield; it was in his ropes that I yearned to find myself cast on the altar of his lust, a helpless offering to his mightiness. No, no, I thought. I must hate them all, all, even he whom I had unsuccessfully attempted to banish from my least thoughts. How I must hate him, I thought. Was it not he who brought me choiceless to this world, on which I was marked, collared, and sold! Was it not he who had brought me even to this chain, to this degradation, to this rude, primitive place, on a far world? What fate is this, I asked myself. How could one such as I, intelligent, educated, refined, sensitive, proud, be here? "You are ready," he said. - (Smugglers of Gor)