Results Details

"Do you not know, truly, why I purchased those strokes?" he asked. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 29, Sentence #249)

"To see your ankle, the turn of a calf, the sweetness of an arm, the softness of a small shoulder, the turning of a wrist, the delicacy of a hand, the provocative call of your love cradle, the joy of your waist, made for a slave chain, your swelling bosom, its delights, the whiteness of your encircled throat, the beauty of your face, the bright glance of your eyes, the trembling softness of your embonded lips! You could drive a man mad with passion and desire! It is for women like you that collars are made! What man, seeing you, would not want to own you!" "Oh, Master!" cried Ellen. "And I am your slave!" "And I will not be yours!" he said, angrily. "Master?" she asked. "Do you not know, truly, why I purchased those strokes?" he asked. "Do you think I would let another whip you? No! I will have you under my whip! Under my whip! You are mine to whip!" She cast about again, frantically, for a new tactic, a new strategy, a new avenue of escape. "You do not even care for me, Master!" cried Ellen. She must challenge his affections, appeal to his pity, confuse him, take him off balance, force him to acknowledge his undoubted feelings for her. - (Prize of Gor)