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Certainly it had not been the look of a human male, a master, that look to which a slave becomes so accustomed, say, that casual, assessing look, from hair to ankles, which undresses her, nor the simple look of a beast, say, curious, hostile, or baleful. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 20, Sentence #242)

It was not a pet. I did not know what it was, but I was sure it was not a pet. Then I remembered how it had looked at me, so piercingly. Certainly it had not been the look of a human male, a master, that look to which a slave becomes so accustomed, say, that casual, assessing look, from hair to ankles, which undresses her, nor the simple look of a beast, say, curious, hostile, or baleful. It had been a look that seemed, somehow, to be trying to understand my expression. Did it know me? Did I know it? Had we something to do with one another? I think it had read more than apprehension, or fear, in my countenance, as it might have read in the countenance of Lita. There must have been more in my expression than I understood. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 20)