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"Please," she wept. - (Marauders of Gor, Chapter 9, Sentence #299)

We approached more closely. She lay on her side, in misery, across great blocks of ice; she could lift her head and shoulders no more than six inches from the ice; she could draw her ankles toward her body no more than six inches; small chips of wood, in which the ice is packed, clung about her body; she was bound, hand and foot, her wrists behind her, her ankles crossed and tied. Two ropes prohibited her from struggling to either a sitting or kneeling position, one running from her right ankle across the ice to a ring in the side of the shed, the other running from her throat across the ice to a similar ring on the other side of the shed. "Please," she wept. Her teeth chattered; her lips were blue. She lay before us, on her back. "Please," she wept, piteously, "I beg to be permitted to run to the furs of Ivar Forkbeard". - (Marauders of Gor)