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Happily I no longer wore the three rows of tiny, clanking bells, suitable for a tarsk or verr, which had been placed upon me by order of Florian, supposedly to make it easier to keep track of me, days ago, in the holding of Bosk of Port Kar. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 46, Sentence #10)

"Things grow ugly". I hurried past him, a goblet in hand, anxious, the paga swirling. I was barefoot and briefly tunicked, as is common with a paga girl. Happily I no longer wore the three rows of tiny, clanking bells, suitable for a tarsk or verr, which had been placed upon me by order of Florian, supposedly to make it easier to keep track of me, days ago, in the holding of Bosk of Port Kar. They had been, in effect, of course, more than anything, punishment bells, put on me for the amusement of masters, to punish me for my curiosity, a trait which was, as is well-known, despite its ubiquity, allegedly unbecoming to a kajira. How eager we are to understand and know! How cruel are the masters to keep so much from us! How amused they are to treat us as the mere slaves we are! We are nothing, only kajirae, owned objects, kept for their service and pleasure. Would one discuss plans with tarsks? Would one wish to keep kaiila or verr informed of what is to be done with them? How helpless one is as a slave! "Paga, paga!" called a man. - (Quarry of Gor)