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Our strongest bond, of course, that which would hold us if none other, that which we could never hope to break, was our condition itself, that we were slaves. Still, beyond these things it seemed to me that there might be something a little mysterious, if not excessive, in the careful way we were being treated, handled and moved. I had gathered that it was not really unusual, particularly in certain places, though in others it was apparently regarded as being tactless or vulgar, for slaves to be marched naked, in coffle, through the streets, for example, for their own edification or instruction, that they be helped to understand that they are truly slaves, as a form of advertising for their owner's house, or merely, as the case might be, as a matter of simple convenience. Certainly they were often kept this way, I had been given to understand, on highway and road treks, if only to protect their tunics from sweat and dust. And there seemed little objection anywhere to marching them through the streets in tunics or camisks, a narrow, poncholike garment. To be sure, they were generally transported naked, in closed wagons, their ankles chained to a central bar. But they were presumably not then gagged and hooded, or confined as closely as we. - (Dancer of Gor, Chapter )