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Doubtless he was now amused by the agitation and discomfort of a slave, at the keenness, the intensity, of her arousal. - (Dancer of Gor, Chapter 34, Sentence #455)

Might I hope that he might, sometime, care for me, if only a little, though I was no more than a slave? But now, caring or loving aside, I was aroused. Surely he knew that the obeisance of kissing and licking the master's feet, even cleaning them with the soft, moist slave tongue, was arousing to a slave? Surely he knew that. Doubtless that was why he had ordered me to his feet. Doubtless he was now amused by the agitation and discomfort of a slave, at the keenness, the intensity, of her arousal. How pathetic and weak I was! Must he not despise me for my needs? I could no longer control my passions. I wore a Gorean slave collar! I was no more than a vendible beast at his feet, in whose belly slave fires had been kindled. I was not a free woman! How could he care for one who was now no more than a helpless, uncontrollably impassioned animal? But do men not want us such, so much theirs? How far away was the library! He looked at me. - (Dancer of Gor)