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And there were other textures, and feelings, too, the knowledge that one is owned, and must obey, and the realization that one will be punished if one is not satisfactory, and little things, like the feel of wood on one's knees as one knelt before the free, the sense of a strap cinched tight on one's body, the clasp of slave bracelets, the weight of a shackle, the fiber of cordage in which one lay, bound, and helpless. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 23, Sentence #65)

On Gor, a slave, tunicked and collared, I was far more aware of my surroundings and their multiple ambiences than I had been on Earth, where noise and glitter, and clutter and filth, and garments which I was beginning to feel were outlandishly barbaric, seemed to shut away the natural world. Here, muchly bared, and owned, I was keenly aware of a gentle wind, the splash of rain, the feel of wet grass on one's feet, the scent of a flower, the texture of a piece of cloth, than I had ever been on my former world. How fresh and clean was the world, this world, how rich and sensuous it was. And there were other textures, and feelings, too, the knowledge that one is owned, and must obey, and the realization that one will be punished if one is not satisfactory, and little things, like the feel of wood on one's knees as one knelt before the free, the sense of a strap cinched tight on one's body, the clasp of slave bracelets, the weight of a shackle, the fiber of cordage in which one lay, bound, and helpless. "Tal, vulo," said a man. "Tal, Master," I said. "Tal, tasta," said another. - (Smugglers of Gor)