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"ellen "

Book 27. (1 results) Prize of Gor (Individual Quote)

Let her wear a collar! Let her be a naked slave! Let her grovel and fear free women! Yes, thought Ellen, and let her dance before masters, as a naked slave, and be lashed if not pleasing! I am pleased that I am not a dancer, thought Ellen. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 22, Sentence #247)
Chapter # Sentence # Quote
22 247 Let her wear a View more quotes about collar">collar! Let her be a naked slave! Let her grovel and fear free women! Yes, thought Ellen, and let her dance before masters, as a naked slave, and be lashed if not pleasing! I am pleased that I am not a dancer, thought Ellen.

Book 27. (7 results) Prize of Gor (Context Quote)

Chapter # Sentence # Quote
22 244 The poor woman, thought Ellen, returning to the ka-la-na vat.
22 245 What a terrible misfortune for her! How unfortunate! And then Ellen smiled, and laughed to herself.
22 246 How perfect, she thought.
22 247 Let her wear a collar! Let her be a naked slave! Let her grovel and fear free women! Yes, thought Ellen, and let her dance before masters, as a naked slave, and be lashed if not pleasing! I am pleased that I am not a dancer, thought Ellen.
22 248 I am pleased that I need not fear being called upon to dance.
22 249 Ellen hummed the strains of a joyful Gorean slave song to herself, in which the slave bedecks herself and eagerly awaits the arrival of her master.
22 250 Suddenly she heard a fierce movement in the air, behind her, an unexpected but unmistakable swift hiss, and, almost at the same time, below the small of the back, she felt a stinging stripe, the swift, sharp blow of a supple switch, a yard in length.
The poor woman, thought Ellen, returning to the ka-la-na vat. What a terrible misfortune for her! How unfortunate! And then Ellen smiled, and laughed to herself. How perfect, she thought. Let her wear a collar! Let her be a naked slave! Let her grovel and fear free women! Yes, thought Ellen, and let her dance before masters, as a naked slave, and be lashed if not pleasing! I am pleased that I am not a dancer, thought Ellen. I am pleased that I need not fear being called upon to dance. Ellen hummed the strains of a joyful Gorean slave song to herself, in which the slave bedecks herself and eagerly awaits the arrival of her master. Suddenly she heard a fierce movement in the air, behind her, an unexpected but unmistakable swift hiss, and, almost at the same time, below the small of the back, she felt a stinging stripe, the swift, sharp blow of a supple switch, a yard in length. - (Prize of Gor)