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"117, Master!" she called to a fellow who had stood by the bars, and tapped himself lightly on the chest, on the left. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 22, Sentence #358)

"Yes," she admitted to herself, "I am a vain slave. And I am exquisite, I think, and I am beautiful, I think. Or perhaps so! And in any event I love being owned and I love being a slave!" But then she remembered men and their whips and was afraid, very afraid. "117, Master!" she called to a fellow who had stood by the bars, and tapped himself lightly on the chest, on the left. * * * * Ellen, carrying the pitcher of wine, found the fellow who had called out to her earlier. He had been served in the meantime, as she had supposed he would have been, but, in any event, she had returned, to see after the matter, as was appropriate. He permitted her to add a bit of wine to his goblet, and she was grateful for this kindness, for in it he acknowledged her return, and her solicitude that he be served. - (Prize of Gor)