Book 34. (1 results) Plunder of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 26 | 225 | It was not my fault if I may have fallen favorably beneath the gaze of her free companion! That was not my doing! I had not even been aware of his regard. |
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Book 34. (7 results) Plunder of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 26 | 222 | "Two tarsk-bits!" called another, "No, three," cried another, as I fled away. |
| 26 | 223 | How I longed for a private master, a normal master, at whose feet I might kneel, whom I might serve humbly, heatedly, passionately, in the way of the slave! Too, in a common tunic and collar, I found myself more than once berated and twice switched by free women. |
| 26 | 224 | I was once leaned toward a wall, the palms of my hands on the wall, to keep my balance, and switched across the back of the thighs. |
| 26 | 225 | It was not my fault if I may have fallen favorably beneath the gaze of her free companion! That was not my doing! I had not even been aware of his regard. |
| 26 | 226 | In the case of the other, we were drawing water, and I had not noticed her waiting. |
| 26 | 227 | "Are you mad?" she asked. |
| 26 | 228 | "Do you expect me to dip my flask behind the bucket of a filthy slave, where she has sullied the water?" I was then liberally switched until I was crying, and, I think, her arm grew tired. |
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"Two tarsk-bits!" called another, "No, three," cried another, as I fled away.
How I longed for a private master, a normal master, at whose feet I might kneel, whom I might serve humbly, heatedly, passionately, in the way of the slave! Too, in a common tunic and collar, I found myself more than once berated and twice switched by free women.
I was once leaned toward a wall, the palms of my hands on the wall, to keep my balance, and switched across the back of the thighs.
It was not my fault if I may have fallen favorably beneath the gaze of her free companion! That was not my doing! I had not even been aware of his regard.
In the case of the other, we were drawing water, and I had not noticed her waiting.
"Are you mad?" she asked.
"Do you expect me to dip my flask behind the bucket of a filthy slave, where she has sullied the water?" I was then liberally switched until I was crying, and, I think, her arm grew tired.
- (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 26)