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Yes, Master, I thought, want me, dream of me, long to own me, long to have your name on my collar, your bracelets on my wrists, long to fling me as a rightless chattel to your slave ring, but it will not be! I hate you, I hate you! I must get back, I thought. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 42, Sentence #182)

Next time there would be no sleen. I would have my revenge. Let him hunger for a slave who was indifferent to him, one he might desire but who did not desire him, one who would be forever beyond his grasp, one whom he would never have, one who loathed him, who despised him, who found him repulsive, who hated him, who scorned him, whose most dreaded fate would be to fall into his hands. Yes, Master, I thought, want me, dream of me, long to own me, long to have your name on my collar, your bracelets on my wrists, long to fling me as a rightless chattel to your slave ring, but it will not be! I hate you, I hate you! I must get back, I thought. There was a stirring in the camp above, and so I turned about, and, carrying my now-rinsed gruel bowl, climbed up the slope to the camp. "Something is going on," I said to Axel. "Yes," said Axel. - (Smugglers of Gor)