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They took their places, two being first relieved of physical constraints, one a sirik and one a wall collar. "Eighteen," said the fellow in blue. "No, no, no!" screamed a girl. She leaped to her feet, darted with a scattering of straw past the fellow in blue, and, scrambling, sobbing, stumbling, falling once, leaping up again, fled toward the stairs, at the top of which, high above, was the dark, barred gate. Then she screamed with misery, several feet from the stairs, caught by the hair, and yanked back, that by the fellow who carried the loops of rope. He twisted her rudely, abruptly, about, and downward, and she was then at his feet, he crouching over her, his hand in her hair. He then straightened up, angrily, and, she crying out in pain, jerked her to her feet, and held her beside him, bent over at the waist, her head tight against his hip, her head down, facing the floor, she then in leading position. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter )