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"hate "

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

"I hate him!" she cried. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #1135)
Chapter # Sentence # Quote
25 1135 "I hate him!" she View more quotes about cried">cried.

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

Chapter # Sentence # Quote
25 1132 How wonderful it is to be tunicked and safely, securely collared, to be able to move freely about, to walk and run, to be open to the sun, to feel the air and wind on one's body, to see and feel the glory of this world, to revel in its vitalities and sensations, and, too, to know that one is excruciatingly desirable, to say nothing of knowing oneself owned, and taken in the arms of one's master.
25 1133 So let us all, slaves, whatever might be our origins, strive to please our masters! "No, Master, no, Master!" cried Ellen, and turned about, on her knees, clasping the knees of the auctioneer in piteous supplication, looking up at him, her eyes bursting with tears.
25 1134 "Do not sell me to him, not to him! To anyone but him! Not to him, please, Master!" The auctioneer thrust her back.
25 1135 "I hate him!" she cried.
25 1136 "I hate him!" "And he you?" inquired the auctioneer.
25 1137 "Yes!" she cried.
25 1138 "He holds me in contempt, and hates me!" "It is not inappropriate to hold barbarians in contempt," said the auctioneer.
How wonderful it is to be tunicked and safely, securely collared, to be able to move freely about, to walk and run, to be open to the sun, to feel the air and wind on one's body, to see and feel the glory of this world, to revel in its vitalities and sensations, and, too, to know that one is excruciatingly desirable, to say nothing of knowing oneself owned, and taken in the arms of one's master. So let us all, slaves, whatever might be our origins, strive to please our masters! "No, Master, no, Master!" cried Ellen, and turned about, on her knees, clasping the knees of the auctioneer in piteous supplication, looking up at him, her eyes bursting with tears. "Do not sell me to him, not to him! To anyone but him! Not to him, please, Master!" The auctioneer thrust her back. "I hate him!" she cried. "I hate him!" "And he you?" inquired the auctioneer. "Yes!" she cried. "He holds me in contempt, and hates me!" "It is not inappropriate to hold barbarians in contempt," said the auctioneer. - (Prize of Gor)