Book 23. (1 results) Renegades of Gor (Individual Quote)
Chapter #
Sentence #
Quote
1
566
Her thigh, as I determined, in turning her about, and caressing her, first, by feel, and then in a flash of lightning, wore the common kajira brand, the small, delicate "Kef," for "kajira," sometimes called the staff and fronds, suggesting beauty subject to discipline.
Her thigh, as I determined, in turning her about, and caressing her, first, by feel, and then in a flash of lightning, wore the common Kajira brand, the small, delicate "Kef," for "Kajira," sometimes called the staff and fronds, suggesting beauty subject to discipline.
- (Renegades of Gor, Chapter 1, Sentence #566)
Book 23. (7 results) Renegades of Gor (Context Quote)
Chapter #
Sentence #
Quote
1
563
I put her to her back.
1
564
Then I caressed her, and she squirmed, writhing on the wet tarpaulin over the gravel, beneath the wagon, in the flashes of lightning, in the explosions of thunder.
1
565
She was small, naked and cuddly.
1
566
Her thigh, as I determined, in turning her about, and caressing her, first, by feel, and then in a flash of lightning, wore the common kajira brand, the small, delicate "Kef," for "kajira," sometimes called the staff and fronds, suggesting beauty subject to discipline.
1
567
On her neck, beneath the coils of the heavy, padlocked chain, was a common, close-fitting Gorean slave collar.
1
568
"Alas," she wept softly, in misery, in frustration, "my ankles are chained!" I gathered she might not have been a slave long.
1
569
"Oh!" she cried, softly.
I put her to her back.
Then I caressed her, and she squirmed, writhing on the wet tarpaulin over the gravel, beneath the wagon, in the flashes of lightning, in the explosions of thunder.
She was small, naked and cuddly.
Her thigh, as I determined, in turning her about, and caressing her, first, by feel, and then in a flash of lightning, wore the common kajira brand, the small, delicate "Kef," for "kajira," sometimes called the staff and fronds, suggesting beauty subject to discipline.
On her neck, beneath the coils of the heavy, padlocked chain, was a common, close-fitting Gorean slave collar.
"Alas," she wept softly, in misery, in frustration, "my ankles are chained!" I gathered she might not have been a slave long.
"Oh!" she cried, softly.
- (Renegades of Gor, Chapter 1)