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Is a dog not grateful to be fed as a dog, a slave as a slave? Then I became angry again. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 11, Sentence #340)

What right had men to enslave us, I asked, to strip and brand us, to collar us, to put us in tiny, revealing tunics, if that, tunics without nether closures, tunics exhibiting us as properties and goods? Then I answered my own question, the right of nature, the right of men, the right of masters. Leander had cast me a roll, and I had eaten it, eagerly, as an animal. Part of me was then, when I had risen up, angry, and I had smarted with humiliation, but another part, I recalled, when I had been on all fours, was gratified, and grateful; how warm, right, and perfect, how reassuring and fulfilling, it had seemed for me, to be so fed, fed as what I was, a slave. Is a dog not grateful to be fed as a dog, a slave as a slave? Then I became angry again. A free man passed me. I kept my eyes straight ahead. My tunic concealed little, my collar proclaimed much. - (Quarry of Gor)