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Finally, unable to stand things longer, distraught, frightened, miserable, she may take to courting the collar, traversing high bridges at night, moving on dismal streets after dark, wandering unescorted outside the walls, renting rooms in cheap inns, booking passage on lightly guarded caravans. - (Rebels of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #483)

Is it he, or another, one who passes her on the street, one who sits near her in the theater, one at her elbow in a market? She may try to flee, her efforts may become frantic. Then, perhaps when she feels safe, another sign or token may be discovered. Perhaps she unrolls a scroll and finds within it a slip of paper, "You are a slave," or perhaps on the very mirror of her vanity, drawn in grease pencil, she discovers an image, the small, lovely, cursive "Kef," much like the one which might be burned into her left thigh, somewhat below the hip. Finally, unable to stand things longer, distraught, frightened, miserable, she may take to courting the collar, traversing high bridges at night, moving on dismal streets after dark, wandering unescorted outside the walls, renting rooms in cheap inns, booking passage on lightly guarded caravans. She may actually cry out with relief and joy when she feels the ropes encircle her robes. "It seems," I had said, "passage would be difficult from either side". "Yes, Master," had said one of the slaves. - (Rebels of Gor, Chapter 13)