• Home
  • Contact

Results Details

Book 7. (1 results) Captive of Gor (Individual Quote)

"I wish you well," he shouted. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #717)
Chapter # Sentence # Quote
13 717 "I wish you well," he shouted.

Book 7. (7 results) Captive of Gor (Context Quote)

Chapter # Sentence # Quote
13 714 But I did not want to be View more quotes about beaten">beaten! And then I thought, wildly, pathetically, yes, beat me, beat me, Master, impress your ownership upon me! It was not that I wanted the pain, but rather that I would then understand myself his, subject to his categorical domination, a slave at his will, mastered, owned.
13 715 Then I realized that I must resist him.
13 716 I was Elinor Brinton! He raised his hand to the crowd.
13 717 "I wish you well," he shouted.
13 718 "I wish you well!" they cried.
13 719 I felt the one-strap of the tarn harness jerk tight across my body, and, suddenly, taking my breath away, the great bird screamed and began to beat its wings, and the saddle pressed up against my back, and I, upside down, saw the conical huts of the peasants drop away below us, and the bird, stroke by violent, majestic stroke, its head forward, was climbing toward the clouds.
13 720 * * * * The tarn streaked through the skies.
But I did not want to be beaten! And then I thought, wildly, pathetically, yes, beat me, beat me, Master, impress your ownership upon me! It was not that I wanted the pain, but rather that I would then understand myself his, subject to his categorical domination, a slave at his will, mastered, owned. Then I realized that I must resist him. I was Elinor Brinton! He raised his hand to the crowd. "I wish you well," he shouted. "I wish you well!" they cried. I felt the one-strap of the tarn harness jerk tight across my body, and, suddenly, taking my breath away, the great bird screamed and began to beat its wings, and the saddle pressed up against my back, and I, upside down, saw the conical huts of the peasants drop away below us, and the bird, stroke by violent, majestic stroke, its head forward, was climbing toward the clouds. * * * * The tarn streaked through the skies. - (Captive of Gor)