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"And this wench!" said Elizabeth, striding to Phyllis, "What of her?" Phyllis looked at her, startled. - (Assassin of Gor, Chapter 19, Sentence #391)

She turned about and went to Virginia. "Here," said she, tauntingly, "is a slim beauty, lithe and swift, White Silk, intelligent, curious for the touch of a man, who for the right man would be the most abject and servile wench a beast could wish. Imagine her, noble men of Ar, chained to your slave ring! She alone is worth five hundred pieces of gold!" The crowd roared its approval and the auctioneer dropped his hand and stepped back, perhaps as surprised as any in that room. "And this wench!" said Elizabeth, striding to Phyllis, "What of her?" Phyllis looked at her, startled. "Place your hands behind the back of your head, Slave," ordered Elizabeth. "Put your head back, no, farther back, farther! Are you stupid? Now turn, slowly, unworthy slave, for the noble buyers of Ar!" Startled, Phyllis did precisely as she was told, beautifully. "Oh, Masters," taunted Elizabeth, "would you not like this one to wear your collar?" There were shouts of agreement. - (Assassin of Gor)