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Though I had sensed he was different in some way, in some frightening way, I did not understand what might be transpiring. Surely I had no way of realizing he was not a man of Earth. I knew nothing of Gor, of Goreans. And he was not merely Gorean, but of the caste of Slavers! And I had dared to strike him! Now my hands might be cut off for such an act, if I were not to be disposed of altogether, doubtless in such a way as to apprise me of my error and constitute a warning to others. And now I was caged, on another world! How did I know that he had come to appraise me, to consider whether or not I might do, turned and exhibited, on a slave block? I gathered that, incredibly, despite my obvious beauty and desirability, which was generally recognized, and of which I had been frequently assured, could I not see the illustrations in the magazines and on the billboards, I was assessed as a mere pot girl, or kettle-and-mat girl. Indeed, I gathered that I was "borderline" in his view, if one could believe that, but, as my behavior had irritated him, had he not called me a "bitch," he had decided, perhaps for his amusement, that I would be taken to Gor, there to be marked, and learn the whip, chain, and collar. I had not known he was not a man of Earth. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter )