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But the whip cracked again, and again I sped forward. - (Witness of Gor, Chapter 10, Sentence #327)

They pressed against the bars, but they did not put their hands through. Perhaps they did not wish them torn off by the beast! In the pens we kajirae, kneeling or crouching down, had sometimes put our hands through the bars of our kennels, trying to touch a guard, to call ourselves, whimperingly, to his attention, but this experience suggested, uneasily, a quite different sort of possibility, one in which such as I might have to tread a passage with care, lest we fall within the grasp of fearsome, dangerous inmates. Would we not be in our way rather like food, dangled almost within the reach of starving men? "Give her to us!" called a man. But the whip cracked again, and again I sped forward. Then we were past the cells! I continued to climb upward. We were now on the trail leading up to the citadel. The cliff rose sheer on my right, the drop, precipitous, was to my left. - (Witness of Gor)