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I thought of Addison Steele. I found myself hoping, desperately, fervently, for no reason I understood, that he had survived. Why should this be? He was a rogue and a villain, dishonest, corrupt, and untrustworthy, even treasonous. How I hated him! He had dared to treat me as a slave, I, once the well-stationed, proud Margaret Henderson, of Earth, as the slave I now am! He had treated me with disdain and contempt, albeit a disdain and contempt which I knew, as a slave, I richly deserved. He had treated me as a meaningless beast, a luscious, purchasable object worthy only of serving a master's pleasure. How dared he treat me so? How dared he treat me as a beast! And then I recalled that I, as a slave, was a beast, only a negligible beast. I hated him! I wanted to wear his bracelets, his collar, his chains, and feel his whip, if he should choose to whip me! Again I looked to the walls of Port Kar. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter )