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I was fond of my body, and, despite my pretenses, delighted with its display. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 6, Sentence #486)

What would this new clothing do to us? How, in the tunic of a slave, can one be other than a slave? Do we not become congruent with our clothing? Do we not fit ourselves to our clothing? Do we not learn our self-image from our clothing? Do we not think of ourselves in terms of our clothing? Do we not become one with it? And now we found ourselves in the clothing of slaves! And I tried, wildly, to force a thought from my mind, persistent and intrusive. I was not displeased to be in the garb of a slave! "No, no!" I thought. But how frank, simple, and appealing it was, that garb, how honest, blatant, and unapologetic. I was fond of my body, and, despite my pretenses, delighted with its display. Further, though I had found few men in my former experiences of great interest, I found myself reacting differently to my captors. They were so naturally, and unassumingly, masculine, so sure of themselves. I had the sense in them of ambition, possessiveness, aggression, strength, and will. - (Plunder of Gor)