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I heard two girls laugh and I felt my ankles seized and held while small hands thrust on my back, taking me by surprise and throwing me heavily forward; I struck my shoulder on the back of the cart and the booted foot of a Warrior thrust me from the cart and I fell to my knees on the stones; when I wished to rise a Warrior's hand on my shoulder prevented me. - (Assassin of Gor, Chapter 19, Sentence #51)

"This is the Curulean," I heard Philemon of Tyros say, the words sounding far off, blurred through the hood. The wagon stopped, and I felt the heavy, slack chain dragging at my collar. This was the evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast, the climax of the feast insofar as the sales of slaves was concerned; this was the night Cernus would put his barbarian beauties on the block; tomorrow would be the concluding races and games, wild, dizzying hours in the Stadium of Tarns and that of Blades, bringing the Love Feast to its frenzied conclusion; it was tomorrow, in the Stadium of Blades, that Cernus had informed me I would die. I heard two girls laugh and I felt my ankles seized and held while small hands thrust on my back, taking me by surprise and throwing me heavily forward; I struck my shoulder on the back of the cart and the booted foot of a Warrior thrust me from the cart and I fell to my knees on the stones; when I wished to rise a Warrior's hand on my shoulder prevented me. Then another Warrior, with his two hands, thrust my hooded head to the sandal of one of my unseen tormentors; I heard her laugh; then my head was jerked up and thrust down again, to the sandal of another; I heard her laugh. "You have had your sport," said Philemon. "Be gone, Slaves". - (Assassin of Gor)