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She tried, with her small fists, to pull together the sides of the tunic, to protect, as she could, the rounded, interior contours of her softness from the garment's apparently thoughtless disclosure. - (Savages of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #29)

Her throat was bare, having been released from the collar in the coffle. "I have been sent to your blankets," she whispered. "I understand," I said. She tried, with her small fists, to pull together the sides of the tunic, to protect, as she could, the rounded, interior contours of her softness from the garment's apparently thoughtless disclosure. I smiled. Did she not know it was a slave's garment? Did she not understand the statement that was made by that deep, V-shaped, plunging division in the tunic, terminating only at her belly, that the woman who wore it was owned by men, that she was a slave? At a gesture from me she removed her hands from the sides of the garment and placed them on her thighs. She then knelt there in the grass, and I looked at her. - (Savages of Gor)