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I squirmed a little, but was helpless in his grasp. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 18, Sentence #1097)

How weak we are, how needful we are, once a collar is fastened on our neck! Would you be different, noble Mistresses, were one fastened on your neck? Of course, for you are not slaves! Once before, at a night camp, our second day from Venna, he had put his hands on me, as well, and thrust me, standing, back against one of the mighty columns, or pylons, supporting the aqueduct. Astrinax had summoned him to the wagons, and, when he had flung me from him, he had had but a taste of slave. "Yes," he grinned, now holding me out, a tiny bit, from him, "you would be a hot little tasta". I squirmed a little, but was helpless in his grasp. How could he say such a thing? Surely I had given him no satisfaction, or only a little. I was a collared female. How could I help such things? Do we not belong to males, such males? There was sweat on his arms, and my tunic was damp from the heat. - (Conspirators of Gor)