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I looked at her then in the tiny light of the lamp, kneeling back on her heels, small, luscious, her beauty so full and sweetly curved, so poorly concealed in the tattered rag, the knees of her bared legs placed closely together. - (Fighting Slave of Gor, Chapter 11, Sentence #154)

This straw, burning then at one end, served to light the wick of a small, clay oil lamp. She then shook the straw, extinguishing it and, with her fingers, moved the bit of moss about, spreading it, and the tiny flame there dissipated into scattered glowing points which then, rapidly, disappeared. She took the lamp then in her hands and approached me, then crouched down and set it to one side, then knelt back, on her heels. I looked at her then in the tiny light of the lamp, kneeling back on her heels, small, luscious, her beauty so full and sweetly curved, so poorly concealed in the tattered rag, the knees of her bared legs placed closely together. She looked at me, in piteous protest. How could any male, any with even a single drop of blood in his veins, any who still drew breath, look upon such a woman with gentility? She shook her head. "Please," she said. - (Fighting Slave of Gor)