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"I want my clothing," said the older woman. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 4, Sentence #99)

Vaguely she recognized that it seemed to be an oriental rug, and might, she speculated, be of considerable value. How amused must the blond woman, Tutina, have been, she thought, when she removed her clothing and would then compare her own abundant, vital, provocative riches with the worn, slack, tired, withered, pathetic, impoverished form which, helpless and unconscious, lay before her. She would then presumably, turning the old form about, have proceeded to see that it was once again concealed, though now perhaps, to her amusement, in such a reductive, simple, thin, single, embarrassing, uniform, meaningless, dehumanizing cover. "I want my clothing," said the older woman. She touched the gown. "I do not want to wear this," she said. "You would not think twice about it, if you were in the office of an examining physician," said the young man. - (Prize of Gor)