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Perhaps she feared that her mistress, Janice Prentiss, would come and whip her and put her back in the dungeon. - (Explorers of Gor, Chapter 34, Sentence #473)

Then, slowly, inch by inch, she pressing upward, the door began to open; she could feel the stone of the stairs hard under her bare feet; her muscles ached; there was a heavy sound from the protesting, thick hinges; she cried out, thrusting upward; the door then, suddenly, opened, suddenly swinging back, falling away from her; there was a clang of iron on stone. Fearing to move, blinded by the sunlight, she knelt trembling on the stairs. She did not lift her head above the level of the opened door. Perhaps she feared that her mistress, Janice Prentiss, would come and whip her and put her back in the dungeon. But did not her mistress know that it was she herself who was the lovely, frightened slave? Did she not know that it would be only she herself who would feel the blows of such a whip, or she herself who would see again the iron door of the dungeon close above her head? The blond-haired barbarian, my tethered slave, looked at me, and smiled. "I am ready to please you, in any way that you might see fit, Master," she said. I reclined on one elbow, watching her. - (Explorers of Gor)