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"Please, Master!" I had never been struck in my life, until the party, when I had been subjected to the lashing of Nora's angry switch. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 7, Sentence #202)

"Forgive me! I will try to be a good slave!" Had I not been marked? He was behind me. I sensed he had something in his hand, perhaps retrieved from a peg on the wall. "Forgive me, Master," I wept. "Please, Master!" I had never been struck in my life, until the party, when I had been subjected to the lashing of Nora's angry switch. I would have done almost anything to escape that switching. I remembered, in the pain, blind with misery, acknowledging her Mistress, and myself slave. She, my enemy, and rival, being acknowledged Mistress! And I no more than a groveling, frightened, beaten slave at her feet! What a triumph that must have been for her, to see her despised rival, in beauty, in popularity, cringing at her feet, belled, collared, half naked, weeping, a slave with no option but to endure the displeasure of her Mistress! That beating had been unpleasant, to be sure. - (Conspirators of Gor)