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"Is she your leader?" I asked one of the girls kneeling to the side, one of those in a tunic of the wool of the bounding hurt. - (Magicians of Gor, Chapter 14, Sentence #189)

In this case, however, I suspected this was no typical grouping of slaves, of the normal sort, but a tiny covey of girls either with weak masters or masters whom they suspected might be weak, a natural enough suspicion in an Ar where the men of the city, betrayed and defeated, helpless and confused, were for most practical purposes, at least until recently, prostrate before the might of Cos. If one is in effect a slave oneself it is hard to be a strong master to one's female. It is much easier to rationalize one's weaknesses and struggle to view them as virtues. "Is she your leader?" I asked one of the girls kneeling to the side, one of those in a tunic of the wool of the bounding hurt. "Yes," she said. "No!" swiftly said another, one also in a tunic of the wool of the bounding hurt. "Our masters are our leaders!" "'Leaders'?" I asked. - (Magicians of Gor)