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He was the sort of man before whom even free women might swoon, might tear away their clothes begging him to use their bodies, supplicating him for his collar. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #708)

He was a Gorean male. I was slave meat! I was his. It would be done with me as he wished. He was the sort of man before whom even free women might swoon, might tear away their clothes begging him to use their bodies, supplicating him for his collar. I realized that even I, Elinor Brinton, as I had been on Earth, might have, on Earth, knelt before such a man, and, in this realization, I realized, again, that even on Earth I had been no more than a lonely, dissatisfied, pretentious liar, a masquerading slave, another slave without a master, posing as a free woman. At his least word or glance I knew that I, as a slave, must surrender myself to him, totally. But I knew, too, tied across his saddle, that I was ready to do so, that I wished to do so, that I was piteously eager to do so. - (Captive of Gor)