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Too, it was not behaving toward me as might have a master, say, fondling me with possessive audacity or throwing my legs apart, to see how I might look with them spread, or to let me know what my relationship was to be to him. - (Dancer of Gor, Chapter 27, Sentence #274)

I was not of its species. Its lusts, and I did not doubt but what such a vital, powerful creature had them, would presumably be triggered by configurations and natures quite other than mine. Indeed, I shuddered to consider what might be the rituals and habits, the courtships and matings, of such a thing. Too, it was not behaving toward me as might have a master, say, fondling me with possessive audacity or throwing my legs apart, to see how I might look with them spread, or to let me know what my relationship was to be to him. For what, then, could it want me? Doubtless food. But then why had it not killed me? Perhaps it wanted to get me somehow to its den and there make its kill, that the meat might be fresher? Or, perhaps, more plausibly, it might wish to keep me in its larder, or pantry, as it might be a rational beast, with an eye to the future, until it was hungry? It then, slowly, one by one, put the digits of its left hand, or paw, on my cheek. I suddenly shuddered. - (Dancer of Gor)