Book 27. (1 results) Prize of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 22 | 351 | Why should I not View more quotes about care">care about them? Why should I not, too, be vain? Yes, I am vain! I have the vanity of a female slave, who exists only for men! I do not care! I do not object! And I love it! I love it! I love it! This settled in her mind, and kissing the bracelets on her wrists, holding her to the upright bar, she laughed, and was pleased with this understanding. |
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Book 27. (7 results) Prize of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 22 | 348 | But then women are vain, she thought, and I am a woman, so why should I not, too, be concerned with such things? I do not care even if I am narcissistic, or frivolous and shallow. |
| 22 | 349 | I do not care. |
| 22 | 350 | Such things are important to me. |
| 22 | 351 | Why should I not care about them? Why should I not, too, be vain? Yes, I am vain! I have the vanity of a female slave, who exists only for men! I do not care! I do not object! And I love it! I love it! I love it! This settled in her mind, and kissing the bracelets on her wrists, holding her to the upright bar, she laughed, and was pleased with this understanding. |
| 22 | 352 | Layers of guilt, falsity and hypocrisy fell from her, like a weighty, obsolescent armor, dried, useless scales shed when no longer needed. |
| 22 | 353 | "What is your lot number, little tasta, little vulo?" called another man. |
| 22 | 354 | "117, Master," Ellen responded. |
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But then women are vain, she thought, and I am a woman, so why should I not, too, be concerned with such things? I do not care even if I am narcissistic, or frivolous and shallow.
I do not care.
Such things are important to me.
Why should I not care about them? Why should I not, too, be vain? Yes, I am vain! I have the vanity of a female slave, who exists only for men! I do not care! I do not object! And I love it! I love it! I love it! This settled in her mind, and kissing the bracelets on her wrists, holding her to the upright bar, she laughed, and was pleased with this understanding.
Layers of guilt, falsity and hypocrisy fell from her, like a weighty, obsolescent armor, dried, useless scales shed when no longer needed.
"What is your lot number, little tasta, little vulo?" called another man.
"117, Master," Ellen responded.
- (Prize of Gor)