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Where was his gentleness, his tenderness, his sensitivity? Surely he could not know my crimes against men on my own world, how I foolishly, deluded by the madness of propaganda, attempted to abet their destruction? Doubtless I have much to pay for! I wonder if the men of Earth will one day make the women of Earth pay similarly for their crimes. But I have changed! I beg to be treated well, my masters! Then she smiled bitterly to herself. One might as well ask gentleness, tenderness, sensitivity of beasts, of leopards and lions, of alien, aggressive, different, mighty life forms, life forms, she thought, compared to which we are insignificant, even negligible, valued only for casual utilities. To men such as these, the mighty, untamed, unreduced men of Gor, what can women be but prey and quarry? What can we be before such men but intimidated, dominated slaves, but eager, yielding, responsive, supplicatory slaves? Such men are true men, men as nature intended them to be, and before them, accordingly, what can a female be but a true woman, as nature intended her to be, a begging, aroused, loving slave? But I want masters to care for me, if only a little. I will try to serve them well! Then she shuddered, thinking of the power of men over her. I am completely dependent upon them, she thought, as theirs, as a domestic animal, literally dependent on them for everything. How wondrously strange that makes me feel. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter )