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"Consider her lips," said he in whose charge I was, "are they not helplessly moist, open, soft, sweet, and full, yielding, and ready, and eager, just right for a collar slut". - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 19, Sentence #73)

Then, in the helplessness of a tethered kajira, I was enfolded into the arms of each, one after the other, some gently, some fiercely, some closely, some more closely. "Kiss well, Allison," said he in whose charge I was. I then, helpless, was well reminded of my hatred for this brute who could deny me speech, who could punish me, who could do much what he wished with me, and would, and to whom I suspected I belonged. "Consider her lips," said he in whose charge I was, "are they not helplessly moist, open, soft, sweet, and full, yielding, and ready, and eager, just right for a collar slut". "Ah!" said a fellow. "Look there," said he in whose charge I was. "Did you not detect a movement of her small body within that tunic?" There was laughter. - (Conspirators of Gor)