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They had then slipped away. I had no doubt that, in this place, they would be prize slaves, not ignorant girls from the pits. How I envied them, serving in their light silks in a place such as this. Might I not be able, sometime, to so serve, in some such place? Was I so inferior to them? Could I not serve wine, and tend to the cleaning, and polish silver, as well as they? How much better to be slave in a place such as this than in the pits! And how much better, too, I thought, might it be to be merely the slave of a quiet, simple man, not even a rich one, and serve him, and keep his compartments, and love him. I wondered why I had been brought here tonight. But I supposed that required, really, no explanation. Tunics are not that efficient at concealing slave curves, even those of an Earth woman, nor are they intended to be. - (Witness of Gor)