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And they are grateful to the master that he has deigned to quench within them for a time the belly fires of the female thrall, which smolder within them even when not blazing, those fires which inform them of their bondage more even than the metal on their neck, the iron on an ankle, the lovely mark burned into their sweet thigh. - (Fighting Slave of Gor, Chapter 32, Sentence #193)

But it must be admitted that masters seldom hurry with their slaves. Nor is there any reason they should; they are not free women, inert and ignorant, jealous of their freedom, determined to retain their personal sovereignty under any and all conditions, women occasionally, one supposes bravely and nobly, submitting to, resignedly enduring, the boredoms of perfunctory congress. Rather they are slaves, and will be well ravished, and when the master is through with them they will have no illusions of freedom or sovereignty; they will know that they are truly in their collars. And they are grateful to the master that he has deigned to quench within them for a time the belly fires of the female thrall, which smolder within them even when not blazing, those fires which inform them of their bondage more even than the metal on their neck, the iron on an ankle, the lovely mark burned into their sweet thigh. And they will not have it otherwise; a contented slave would not trade her collar for a kingdom. She knows what she is, and it is what she wants to be. Again I heard the Lady Florence of Vonda moan, this time softly to herself, and I heard the catch of a sob in her throat. - (Fighting Slave of Gor, Chapter 32)