Book 3. (1 results) Priest-Kings of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 25 | 6 | I leaped forward and thrust my hand under the wing shell and seized the short, tufted antennae and with one hand on them twisting and the other beneath the shell I slowly managed, lifting and twisting, to force the struggling creature onto its back and when it lay on its back, rocking, its short legs writhing impotently, I drew my sword and plunged it a dozen times into its vulnerable, exposed belly, and at last the thing stopped squirming and lay still. |
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Book 3. (7 results) Priest-Kings of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 25 | 3 | The hissing stopped. |
| 25 | 4 | The Beetle wavered, its entire shell of golden, fused wings trembling, and it seemed as if those fused wings shook as though to separate and fly but they could not, and it pulled its head back under the shelter of the wings. |
| 25 | 5 | It began to back away from me on its six short legs. |
| 25 | 6 | I leaped forward and thrust my hand under the wing shell and seized the short, tufted antennae and with one hand on them twisting and the other beneath the shell I slowly managed, lifting and twisting, to force the struggling creature onto its back and when it lay on its back, rocking, its short legs writhing impotently, I drew my sword and plunged it a dozen times into its vulnerable, exposed belly, and at last the thing stopped squirming and lay still. |
| 25 | 7 | I shuddered. |
| 25 | 8 | The odor of the golden hairs still lingered in the passages and, fearing I might once again succumb to whatever drug they released into the air, I determined to make my departure. |
| 25 | 9 | The Mul-Torch began to sputter. |
|
The hissing stopped.
The Beetle wavered, its entire shell of golden, fused wings trembling, and it seemed as if those fused wings shook as though to separate and fly but they could not, and it pulled its head back under the shelter of the wings.
It began to back away from me on its six short legs.
I leaped forward and thrust my hand under the wing shell and seized the short, tufted antennae and with one hand on them twisting and the other beneath the shell I slowly managed, lifting and twisting, to force the struggling creature onto its back and when it lay on its back, rocking, its short legs writhing impotently, I drew my sword and plunged it a dozen times into its vulnerable, exposed belly, and at last the thing stopped squirming and lay still.
I shuddered.
The odor of the golden hairs still lingered in the passages and, fearing I might once again succumb to whatever drug they released into the air, I determined to make my departure.
The Mul-Torch began to sputter.
- (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 25)