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I had thought she had behaved well when confronted with the horror of Seremides, but, of late, it seemed she had tried to carry herself as a free woman, that is, as much as possible when one knows there is a collar on one's neck. - (Mariners of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #29)

She had streaming dark hair, lovely flanks, an exquisite figure, and an inviting love cradle. Her face, so vulnerable so delicate, so beautiful, now that she was in bondage, might have made a bronze mirror cry out with pleasure. Her name was Alcinoë. I had thought she had behaved well when confronted with the horror of Seremides, but, of late, it seemed she had tried to carry herself as a free woman, that is, as much as possible when one knows there is a collar on one's neck. I gathered she was pretending not to notice me, or the others. She affected a haughty, supercilious expression, and, once, when she looked at me, she looked away, her lip curling, as though in contempt. This amused me. - (Mariners of Gor)