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"Are you—a pleasure slave?" I was afraid to answer, but, again, I was even more afraid to remain silent, or to dissemble. - (Slave Girl of Gor, Chapter 9, Sentence #228)

Reddening, I further widened my knees. The other girls laughed. "Think carefully," said Sandal Thong, menacingly. "Are you—a pleasure slave?" I was afraid to answer, but, again, I was even more afraid to remain silent, or to dissemble. There were four other slaves in the cage, and any one of them could have subdued, bound, and beaten me. "Speak," said she. What was I, truly? All the misery and shame of Earth suddenly swept through me! How unworthy, how contemptible, how despicable, how terrible I was! The negativistic conditioning of a world, of years of pathological conditioning, swept through me, that I might, as intended, be a stranger to myself, that I might be trained to mindlessly, reflexively, behave in accordance with the prescriptions of the inert, the frigid, the ignorant, the unsuspecting, the vain, the ambitious, the manipulative, the biologically disinherited, the organically ill-constituted, that I might be trained to distrust and repudiate my most precious and profound instincts and needs, that I might be taught to fear, hate and loathe my deepest and dearest self, only that I might please those who neither respected me nor cared for me, those who held natural, loving women in contempt, and feared and hated them. - (Slave Girl of Gor)