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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. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #725)

He could be anyone, and I could be any slave. Surely it was not he for whom I longed in whose power I was. It was not he whose voice it seemed I had heard a hundred times, only to discover myself mistaken, not he whose image I had conjured up so often, he before whom I had hastened to kneel in my dreams. 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. - (Smugglers of Gor)