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But certainly her "thighs did not steam for him," and the mere sight of him did not "lubricate her for the mastery," nor had she followed him "like a she-sleen in heat"! No! Never! That was absurd! "Lying little slave girl," she said to herself. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 24, Sentence #51)

Too, it had been in his house that she had been branded and collared. A woman is not likely to forget such things. Too, had it not been his whip that she had first felt as a slave? Certainly no slave is likely to forget her first whipping. But certainly her "thighs did not steam for him," and the mere sight of him did not "lubricate her for the mastery," nor had she followed him "like a she-sleen in heat"! No! Never! That was absurd! "Lying little slave girl," she said to herself. "Your thighs steam for any man, and the sight of any virile male lubricates you for the mastery. And if you are not like a sinuous she-sleen in heat, it is rather because you are more like a sleek, curvaceous little she-urt in heat! You are a meaningless little slut in whose belly have been kindled slave fires!" "I hate you, Mirus," she said to herself. "You have called me plain and stupid, and I am neither. - (Prize of Gor)