Results Details

I had thought the sleen a domestic, well-trained beast, at least in the presence of its master or trainer, and it seemed so in the camp, and I had even stood close to it from time to time, without much fear, once even daring to touch it, but what I had beheld then was nothing which spoke of control, domesticity, restraint, or subordination. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 44, Sentence #36)

Tula, Mila, and I, and others, too, I think, had screamed with horror. It is not a pleasant thing to see. Tula had covered her eyes, and, in a moment, or two, sick, Mila and I had turned away. I had thought the sleen a domestic, well-trained beast, at least in the presence of its master or trainer, and it seemed so in the camp, and I had even stood close to it from time to time, without much fear, once even daring to touch it, but what I had beheld then was nothing which spoke of control, domesticity, restraint, or subordination. It spoke, rather, of the darkness of the forest, and the horrors which might lurk within it. But at the same time, given the consternation about, the commotion in the camp, the attack on Master Genserich, and his narrow escape, the attack of the sleen on the assailant, and the tearing and feeding of the sleen, the attention of all, or the thought of all, on such things, I realized that the dark hand of chance had opened the door to my departure. No one would miss me, not for a time. - (Smugglers of Gor)