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Then, as the music struck towards its swirling peaks I unaccountably, boldly, for no reason I understood, faced Rask of Treve, and before him, my master, I danced. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #1294)

How pleased I was in my power! As the music changed so, too, did the dancer, and she became as one with the music, a frightened girl, new to the collar, a timid girl, delicate and submissive, a lonely slave, yearning for her master, a drunken wench, rejecting her slavery, a proud girl, determined to be defiant, a raw, red-silk slave, mad with the need for a master's touch. And, too, as I danced, I would sometimes dance toward a warrior, sometimes as though begging him his glance, sometimes as though seeking his protection in my plight, sometimes as though I could not help myself, but was drawn to him, helplessly, in the vulnerability of the female slave, sometimes, when I chose, to deliberately, overtly and cruelly, taunt him with my beauty, my desirability, and my inaccessibility. More than one cried out with rage and reached toward me, or shook his fist at me, but I laughed, and danced back away from him. Then, as the music struck towards its swirling peaks I unaccountably, boldly, for no reason I understood, faced Rask of Treve, and before him, my master, I danced. His eyes were expressionless. He sipped his wine. I danced my hatred for him, my scorn and contempt for him. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 15)