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Was this being done to someone else? Then I realized that it was I, I, who was being sold! I recalled Mrs. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 8, Sentence #1280)

"Thirty, thirty-five," he was saying. I heard coins, being rattled against one another, in the palm of someone's hand. So I stood there, naked, on the platform, only half understanding what was being done. Was this being done to someone else? Then I realized that it was I, I, who was being sold! I recalled Mrs. Rawlinson. How, in her mind's eye, she must have smiled, considering the fate she was arranging for her lovely, vain, shallow, spoiled charges, the markets of Gor! In the beginning, we had looked down on her, she merely a house mother, an employee, a servant of sorts, far beneath us, a woman hired to manage the house, to regulate mundane and domestic matters, to look after, even regulate and supervise, to some extent, a number of aristocratic, supercilious, patronizing young women, her social betters. But soon, whether because of the force of her personality, or the uncompromising, confident sternness of her demeanor, we began to fear the influence she might bring to bear, the power she might exercise. - (Conspirators of Gor)