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She turned to her side, and tried not to move. Then suddenly she began to writhe, and thrash about, weeping. What a helpless, pathetic slave she was! I hate him, she thought. I hate Selius Arconious! I hate him! I hate him! Then she cried aloud, in the hood, "Oh, please, Master, have mercy on me! Come back! Hold me! Touch me! Help me! I will obey well! I will be a good slave! Fulfill me! Give me my slave's release! I beg it! I am your slave! Be kind to your slave! Be ruthless if you will! I care not! Put me to slave service! Use me! I beg use! I beg use! Master! I beg use, Master!" She heard a man laugh, passing by, amused at the discomfiture of the squirming slave. I hate Selius Arconious, she thought. He has made me a spectacle! He has made me a laughing stock! How sweet his vengeance must be! Why cannot I be as I was on Earth, frigid and cold! But men have done this to me! They have made me a slave! Now I am naught but an aroused, passionate slave! I hate men, she thought. I hate them! I hate them! But then she thought of the house of Mirus, long ago. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter )