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Do masters not sometimes bind and lash their slaves for their insolence and pride, until, at his feet, they offer him their beauty's placation, piteously reminding him that it is his to do with as he wishes. - (Swordsmen of Gor, Chapter 10, Sentence #242)

The slaves of a city are amongst its most beautiful sights. Behold them in the streets and markets! How exciting and beautiful they are! And does the slave's beauty, shamelessly flaunted before the master, not tempt him to its taking! How it torments him, and drives him wild, and the briefly clad, sinuous she-sleen are well aware of what they are doing. Well they know the power that lurks in an ankle, or the turn of a head. Do masters not sometimes bind and lash their slaves for their insolence and pride, until, at his feet, they offer him their beauty's placation, piteously reminding him that it is his to do with as he wishes. And do they not even smile, or laugh, under the lash, until, say, the third or fourth stroke, well reassured of their effect upon him. And I suspected then that she, Miss Wentworth, had gratefully disdonned the tunic and had welcomed the sheet as a transitory salvation, pending the providing of a suitable garmenture. Her concern to appear before Lord Nishida as soon as possible and demand her immediate return to Earth, before an additional and possibly greater delay might take place, had doubtless determined her to avail herself of any expedient at hand, and the sheet, if nothing else, was voluminous and, were the light not behind it, opaque. - (Swordsmen of Gor)