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"Hold her more tightly," he said. - (Kajira of Gor, Chapter 2, Sentence #475)

I then again wanted to scream, to cry out, to argue, to speak, to free myself. I struggled, wildly, irrationally. I was then again a simple, typical, naive young female of my culture, shaken, confused, and terrified, not understanding what was being done to her, or why, and fearing a looming, unfamiliar future, to which she might be destined, one doubtless quite other than those which she might have otherwise projected. "Hold her more tightly," he said. This was done. I could scarcely squirm. I was at their mercy. - (Kajira of Gor)