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"Do you think I would let another whip you? No! I will have you under my whip! Under my whip! You are mine to whip!" She cast about again, frantically, for a new tactic, a new strategy, a new avenue of escape. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 29, Sentence #250)

"And I am your slave!" "And I will not be yours!" he said, angrily. "Master?" she asked. "Do you not know, truly, why I purchased those strokes?" he asked. "Do you think I would let another whip you? No! I will have you under my whip! Under my whip! You are mine to whip!" She cast about again, frantically, for a new tactic, a new strategy, a new avenue of escape. "You do not even care for me, Master!" cried Ellen. She must challenge his affections, appeal to his pity, confuse him, take him off balance, force him to acknowledge his undoubted feelings for her. Surely that would stay his hand! She was certain he had such feelings, for he had permitted her, certainly, in the past few days, to get away with much slackness of service and deference, to behave in ways that are simply not permitted to slaves, and certainly not to those with strong masters. - (Prize of Gor)