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"That is what we must drink," I had informed her, noting with satisfaction the expression on her face as she had lifted up the bowl, filled with the foul brew, and had smelled it. - (Witness of Gor, Chapter 18, Sentence #288)

Perhaps she would lift her head, seeming surprised, and pleased, when his shadow fell across her body. Some days ago, upon my suggestion, following her urgent request for it, the pit master had permitted her slave wine. Who knew, after all, what might occur in the streets or markets? There were many byways in such a city, narrow alleylike streets, dark doorways, and such, into which a slave, ordered to silence, might be drawn. "That is what we must drink," I had informed her, noting with satisfaction the expression on her face as she had lifted up the bowl, filled with the foul brew, and had smelled it. "It is not like the delicious beverages quaffed by free women for such purposes, is it?" I had asked. "No," she had whispered. "I am told, however," I said, "that the releaser is delicious. - (Witness of Gor)