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"I am preparing to close my hand!" Ellen had recognized the voice. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #991)

"Position," said the auctioneer to Ellen. And then Ellen, tears running down her cheeks, knelt appropriately before the men, as what she was, a Gorean pleasure slave, back on heels, back straight, head up, hands down on thighs, knees widely spread. "I have twenty," said the auctioneer. "I am preparing to close my hand!" Ellen had recognized the voice. In a moment she would again belong to Mirus, he who had first opened her for the uses of men, her first master. I do not want to belong to him, she thought, suddenly, wildly, no longer, no longer! And the thought, springing into her consciousness, startled her, and amazed her. But she would belong to whomsoever she was sold, he who would then have all rights to her embonded beauty, and he who would exercise all rights, he whose slave she would then be. - (Prize of Gor)