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I was famished and, burning my fingers, I clutched at it, and, half-choking, thrust it half into my mouth, tearing at it with my teeth and hands, the juices running at the sides of my mouth. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 7, Sentence #178)

We were taken from the wagon and, chained outside, kneeling, were fed. In the two days since I had been captured, prior to our encountering the caravan, we had had only berries and water, and bits of small game, cooked by the guards and thrown to us in scraps. Now, chained, kneeling in a circle, we passed about, one to the other, a bowl of hot soup; then each of us was given a sixth of a round yellow loaf of bread, which we ate with our hands; then, before each of us, on the grass, the guards threw a large piece of cooked meat. I was famished and, burning my fingers, I clutched at it, and, half-choking, thrust it half into my mouth, tearing at it with my teeth and hands, the juices running at the sides of my mouth. I think few of my friends would have recognized the sophisticated, tasteful Elinor Brinton in the naked Gorean slave girl, chained, kneeling on the grass, thrusting meat into her mouth, tearing at it, her head back in ecstasy, feeding, the juices of the meat running on her body. It was only roast bosk, and half raw, but I devoured it. No delicate, sauced portion of filet mignon which I had savored in any Parisian restaurant compared to that hot, steaming chunk of bosk, half raw, running with juices, that I had seized from the grass of a Gorean field, beside the wagon of a slaver. - (Captive of Gor)