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"What am I offered for this lithe, sleek, nicely curved, lovely barbarian beast, new to her collar, fresh from the barbarian world?" called the auctioneer. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 3, Sentence #203)

"Yes, Master," I said. "Do you beg to be sold?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I whispered, "I beg to be sold". "What am I offered for this lithe, sleek, nicely curved, lovely barbarian beast, new to her collar, fresh from the barbarian world?" called the auctioneer. "Is she not a splendid catch? Consider her! Regard the beauty of her face, the fineness of her features, her sweet throat, encircled closely with locked metal, the dark, brown hair, too short now, but it will grow, the loveliness of her shoulders, the softness of her bosom, the narrowness of her waist, the width of her love cradle!" "Twenty tarsk-bits, tarsk-bits of Brundisium!" called a voice from the tiers. I had been bid upon, or at least I supposed so. I did not understand the nature of the bid. - (Quarry of Gor)