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"And you were petty, proud, and pretentious, and you took delight in discomfiting me," he said, "putting yourself near to me, speaking lightly, condescendingly, carelessly, and how you moved, as though unaware of what you were doing, those little gestures, and turnings, and then again putting yourself near to me, sometimes so near to me, as though inadvertently!" "Forgive me, Master". - (Kajira of Gor, Chapter 36, Sentence #340)

"And you, no more than a slave, dare to speak of loving?" "Forgive me, Master," I said. "You were an enemy," he said. "Please, Master, never, Master!" I said. "And you were petty, proud, and pretentious, and you took delight in discomfiting me," he said, "putting yourself near to me, speaking lightly, condescendingly, carelessly, and how you moved, as though unaware of what you were doing, those little gestures, and turnings, and then again putting yourself near to me, sometimes so near to me, as though inadvertently!" "Forgive me, Master". "You knew well what you were doing!" "Forgive me, Master!" "Surely you were aware of how such proximities, such behaviors, enflame a man, how they make him want to take that woman in his arms, force her to him, hold her helplessly, possess her, master her!" "We sense such things," I said. "But it seems such sensings did not deter you in your cruel sport!" "Certainly not," I said. "Why should they? It is one of the pleasures of being a woman. - (Kajira of Gor)