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"I do not want to be a slave!" But when I had touched the most intimate beauties of her she became uncontrollable, writhing, and in my arms I knew the feeling of a slave girl and such, for the moment, was the beautiful Elizabeth Cardwell, helpless and mine, female and slave. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #797)

"Never!" she cried, weeping in fury. "Leave me!" "Not until you have become a slave," I told her. She cried out in misery. "I do not want to be a slave!" But when I had touched the most intimate beauties of her she became uncontrollable, writhing, and in my arms I knew the feeling of a slave girl and such, for the moment, was the beautiful Elizabeth Cardwell, helpless and mine, female and slave. Now her lips and arms and body, now those only of an enamored wench in bondage, sought mine, acknowledging utterly and unreservedly, shamelessly and hopelessly, with helpless abandon, their master. I was astonished at her for even the touch of the whip, her involuntary response to the Slaver's Caress, had not seemed to promise so much. She cried out suddenly as she found herself fully mine. - (Nomads of Gor)