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I hear the gate at the head of the stairs being undone. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 5, Sentence #275)

How faraway then was the store, the men I had known! I was ordered away from the block, and was carried down the stairs, for my legs would not support me. I had been sold. I have wondered, sometime, if the glorious free women of these men, so arrogant and remote, so lofty and proud, so secure, so serene, so abundantly and beautifully robed and veiled, so regal, so majestic, so concealed from head to toe, if stripped and sold, if so caressed, would not also have cried out, squirmed, and leapt as obediently, as helplessly, as revealingly, as spasmodically, as I? How we are nothing in a rag before them! But are they, when all is said and done, any different? Might we not all be slaves? Gorean men are patient. I hear the gate at the head of the stairs being undone. Soon the gruel will be in the troughs, or, for those chained at the sides, to the heavy rings, in the bowls. We are not permitted, as yet, to use our hands. There are a thousand roads. - (Smugglers of Gor)