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My feet could be thus jerked from beneath me should I attempt to run or struggle. "What shall we do with this prisoner?" asked the black-haired girl of her fellows. Numerous suggestions were forthcoming. "Take off his clothes!" "Brand him!" "The whip!" "Put him in a collar!" "Now look here," I said. But they had now set off down the street, dragging me along amongst them. We stopped when I was pushed stumbling into a large room, in which there were numerous baskets and harnesses hanging about, apparently a storeroom of sorts in an unimportant cylinder. A wide area had been cleared in the center of the room, on which, over straw, had been spread some rep-cloth blankets. - (Assassin of Gor)