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"Yes," she said, "I am insolent!" "I would not advise you to speak generally in this way to free men," I said. For a moment she turned pale, but then, as I made no move to correct her behavior, perhaps stripping her and throwing her to her belly, kicking her, thrusting her face into the dirt, or tying her to an elevated, spinning wagon wheel, she turned, again, boldly, to the player. Boots, of course, unbeknownst to either of them, was observing all this. "Yes," she said to him, "I am insolent! I am insolent to you! I may be insolent to you with impunity, for you are not a man! You are too weak to punish me! You are only a beast, a monster, a cringing, wretched, pathetic, ignoble, spineless, monster! You are not a man at all! You are only some kind of monster, some kind of monstrosity, some kind of contemptible weakling!" I wondered if she thought she was speaking to a man of Earth, and not a Gorean male. "Weakling!" she cried. "Weakling!" She was very small, looking up at him. I considered her angry, curvaceous little form. - (Players of Gor, Chapter )