Results Details

She dropped the churned verr milk, the bag's seams fortunately for her not splitting, and spun to face him indignantly, even as a woman of Earth, but her indignation, the instant she turned, gave way to fear, for he was towering over her, she not a free woman but a slave, not four inches from her. - (Tribesmen of Gor, Chapter 5, Sentence #105)

She, with her burden, had walked past him, near him, and as a slave girl. He had leaped to his feet and, swift, with fingers like pliers, had administered a sharp, jocular bit of instruction to the bold wench. Her yelp resounded for a radius of a quarter of a pasang about the watering hole, startling even the verr and kaiila. She dropped the churned verr milk, the bag's seams fortunately for her not splitting, and spun to face him indignantly, even as a woman of Earth, but her indignation, the instant she turned, gave way to fear, for he was towering over her, she not a free woman but a slave, not four inches from her. "You walk well, Slave Girl," he told her. She staggered backward, frightened, stumbling, until she was backed against the backward-leaning trunk of a flahdah tree. She looked up at him. - (Tribesmen of Gor)