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For what place could there be for this other thing in the war camp of Rask of Treve? But mostly we sported and pleasured, hiding from ourselves this other thing, both of us perhaps not wishing to speak it. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #167)

But I think he feared I might become to him a certain sort of slave, a special sort of slave, one to whose status I would not dare to aspire, one whose name I dare not even speak. And for such a slave, I am sure, there was no place in the war camp of Rask of Treve. Sometimes we were master and common slave, and sometimes we were something else, that I dare not speak, but I feared now, much, that he would sell me. For what place could there be for this other thing in the war camp of Rask of Treve? But mostly we sported and pleasured, hiding from ourselves this other thing, both of us perhaps not wishing to speak it. In one week I had even begged him to place in my nose the tiny golden ring of a Tuchuk slave girl, and in that week I had served him as such, clad even in the Kalmak, Chatka and Curla, my hair bound back with the red Koora. In another week I had, the nose ring removed, served him as a Torian girl, and in another as a simple wench of Laura, and in another as an exquisite pleasure slave of Ar. Then one day we had done little but speak to one another, at great length, with much gentleness and intimacy, and in the night, after our lovings, had spoken together, long, lying before the fire. - (Captive of Gor)