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I had been sold in Victoria, from the wharf market, and later, following being ferried across the Vosk and transported in one of four slave wagons south, ankles chained, with five others, to a central bar in the wagon bed, had been again sold, in Torcadino, as a work slave to a mill. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #55)

I wondered how long this bondage would last, how long I would serve here, in this house. This may seem an odd thing to wonder about, but, in actuality, it was not. I see I must explain. I had been sold in Victoria, from the wharf market, and later, following being ferried across the Vosk and transported in one of four slave wagons south, ankles chained, with five others, to a central bar in the wagon bed, had been again sold, in Torcadino, as a work slave to a mill. From that bondage I had been again sold, to me inexplicably, the first of several sales that saw me vended, usually after only a few weeks, sometimes a few days, out of one city or town, or even village, to another. I did not understand this. Had this something to do with me? Was I somehow different? If so, how, in what way? Once, when I was laboring in a field, sickle in hand, with others, harvesting sa-tarna, a great shadow, as of a cloud, raced across the golden grain. - (Plunder of Gor)