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She, like the others, was fed on slave gruel and, on all fours, must drink from a pan on the floor. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 12, Sentence #35)

Ellen, sweating, almost fainting with the heat, the hot, dripping garment in her hands, knelt back for a moment, and, in the hot, moist, close, steaming atmosphere of the low-ceilinged room, gasped for breath. The cost of the laundry work, she conjectured, would be minimal, even negligible, to the laundry's patrons, particularly given its volume. Certainly on such as she the laundry lost little money. She, like the others, was fed on slave gruel and, on all fours, must drink from a pan on the floor. "Do you dally in your work, little Ellen?" asked a voice. "No, Master! No, Master!" she cried, and returned the garment to the tub, frenziedly rubbing its folds together. She had seen the shadow of the legs of Gart, the work-master, on the side of her tub, and the shadow of his whip. - (Prize of Gor)