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He had not lashed me, but I had little doubt he would have done so, had I been in the least bit displeasing. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 12, Sentence #19)

And was it not he who had called me to the attention of slavers, thereby releasing my hidden slave, and giving me to her, she who was myself! I had thought much of Addison Steele since that interlude. My attitudes and emotions concerning him swept from pole to pole, from horizon to horizon, in gamuts ranging from stinging humiliation at how he had treated me, I, a woman of Earth, educated and intelligent, a former acquaintance, now half-naked, collared, and marked, now an abject slave at his mercy on another world, to an overwhelming, submissive awe at his manhood, his rightful power over me, from rage at how he had scorned and commanded me, handling me as though I might be no more than a domestic animal, to a slave's desire to surrender herself, flaming and begging, in tears, to his least touch. I hated Addison Steele, and longed for his collar. He had not lashed me, but I had little doubt he would have done so, had I been in the least bit displeasing. How my slave's body and heart had responded to his dominance! I hated him, and wanted him to own me. I hated him, and wanted to be his slave. I had begged him to buy me, this making it clear to him, and to myself, what I was. - (Quarry of Gor)