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How it betrayed me with its health and need, with its eagerness, its responsiveness, its helplessness, and vitality! I must be at war with it! How could I be myself in a collar? And how could I be myself other than in a collar! In my heart I knew I belonged in the collar, but I was determined to deny this reality, determined to fight it desperately, attempting to cling to the last, tattered shreds of my pride! Was I not of Earth? Did I not know, from my world, what a "true woman" was to be? And did I not know how the betrayals of the body and the forswearings of, the treacheries and disloyalties to, our deepest and most real self, these denials and depredations, were to be commended as accomplishments and adornments! To our blood, and to our hearts, we must do treason. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #22)

I was furious with what had been done to me, but my belly had been well heated there. It would be hard to be again as I had been. I must now fight my body, that body to which I now seemed a stranger. How it betrayed me with its health and need, with its eagerness, its responsiveness, its helplessness, and vitality! I must be at war with it! How could I be myself in a collar? And how could I be myself other than in a collar! In my heart I knew I belonged in the collar, but I was determined to deny this reality, determined to fight it desperately, attempting to cling to the last, tattered shreds of my pride! Was I not of Earth? Did I not know, from my world, what a "true woman" was to be? And did I not know how the betrayals of the body and the forswearings of, the treacheries and disloyalties to, our deepest and most real self, these denials and depredations, were to be commended as accomplishments and adornments! To our blood, and to our hearts, we must do treason. But I feared that Gorean men would not permit this, at least if one were a slave. In the hands of a Gorean male what could a woman be but a slave? I must escape! Surely they aroused me well. How helpless I had been in their grasp! How angry I was with myself that I could not but respond as the least and most worthless of slaves! How I had leaped, and moaned, and whimpered, and begged for the least continuance of their touch! But how could this be? Was I not of Earth? And how lonely I was, to my distress, and shame, when, restless, twisting, on my mat, lying in the darkness on my chain, I had been neglected or overlooked. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 17)