Book 4. (1 results) Nomads of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 8 | 83 | It is not an easy transition to make, that from a bright, lovely young secretary in a pleasant, fluorescently lit, air-conditioned office on Madison Avenue in New York City—to a slave girl in the wagon of a tuchuk warrior. |
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Book 4. (7 results) Nomads of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 8 | 80 | Of course, Kamchak had rented three Turian girls, slaves, to train her; they had done so, binding her wrists and leading her about the wagons, teaching her the words for things, beating her with switches when she made mistakes; Elizabeth had learned quickly. |
| 8 | 81 | She was an intelligent girl. |
| 8 | 82 | It had been hard for Elizabeth Cardwell, particularly the first weeks. |
| 8 | 83 | It is not an easy transition to make, that from a bright, lovely young secretary in a pleasant, fluorescently lit, air-conditioned office on Madison Avenue in New York City—to a slave girl in the wagon of a tuchuk warrior. |
| 8 | 84 | When her interrogation had been completed, and she had collapsed on the dais of Kutaituchik, crying out in misery, "La Kajira. |
| 8 | 85 | La Kajira!" Kamchak had folded her, still weeping, clad in the Sirik, in the richness of the pelt of the red larl in which she had originally been placed before us. |
| 8 | 86 | As I had followed him from the dais I had seen Kutaituchik, the interview ended, absently reaching into the small golden box of kanda strings, his eyes slowly beginning to close. |
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Of course, Kamchak had rented three Turian girls, slaves, to train her; they had done so, binding her wrists and leading her about the wagons, teaching her the words for things, beating her with switches when she made mistakes; Elizabeth had learned quickly.
She was an intelligent girl.
It had been hard for Elizabeth Cardwell, particularly the first weeks.
It is not an easy transition to make, that from a bright, lovely young secretary in a pleasant, fluorescently lit, air-conditioned office on Madison Avenue in New York City—to a slave girl in the wagon of a tuchuk warrior.
When her interrogation had been completed, and she had collapsed on the dais of Kutaituchik, crying out in misery, "La Kajira.
La Kajira!" Kamchak had folded her, still weeping, clad in the Sirik, in the richness of the pelt of the red larl in which she had originally been placed before us.
As I had followed him from the dais I had seen Kutaituchik, the interview ended, absently reaching into the small golden box of kanda strings, his eyes slowly beginning to close.
- (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 8)