"She was large breasted. The men of Torvaldsland are fond of such women."
- Marauders of Gor, p 71
"Go to the bondmaid circle," said Ivar Forkbeard, indicating the circle he had drawn in the dirt. The women cried out in misery. To enter the circle, if one is a female, is, by the laws of Torvaldsland, to declare oneself a bondmaid. A woman, of course, need not enter the circle of her own free will. She may, for example, be thrown within it, naked and bound. Howsoever she enters the circle, voluntarily or by force, free or secured, she emerges from it, by the laws of Torvaldsland, a bondmaid."
- Marauders of Gor, p 71-72
"In the north, my pretty maids," Ivar assured them, "the burdens you carry will be more prosaic, bundles of wood for the fires, buckets of water for the hall, baskets of dung for the fields."
- Marauders of Gor, p 75-76
"Return to me," said the Forkbeard, harshly. Frightened the girl did so. "Now turn about," said he, "and walk there as a bondmaid." Her face went white. Then she turned and walked to the opened planking as a bondmaid. The other bondmaids gasped. The men watching her hooted with pleasure. I grinned. I wanted her. "Bondmaid!" scorned Aelgifu"
- Marauders of Gor, p 99
"I will not eat the gruel of bondmaids," said Aelgifu. "You will eat it," said the Forkbeard, "or you will be
stripped and put to the oar." She looked at him with horror. "That will not violate you, my pretty," said the Forkbeard. In this punishment, the girl, clothed or unclothed, is bound tightly on an oar, hands behind her, her head down, toward the blade. When the oar lifts from the water she gasps for breath, only in another moment to be submerged again. A recalcitrant girl may be kept on the oar for hours. There is also, however, some danger in this, for sea sleen and the white sharks of the north occasionally attempt to tear such a girl from the oar. When food is low it is not unknown for the men of Torvaldsland to use a bondmaid, if one is available on the ship, for bait in such a manner. The least pleasing girl is always used. This practice, of course, encourages bondmaids to vie vigorously to please their masters. An Ahn on the oar is usually more than sufficient to make the coldest and proudest of females an obedient, eager-to-please bondmaid."
- Marauders of Gor, p 105-106
"She was blond; she was barefoot; she wore an ankle-length white kirtle, of white wool, sleeveless, split to her belly. About her neck I could see a dark ring."
- Marauders of Gor, p 128
"I saw people running down the sloping green land, toward the water. Several came from within the palisade. Among them, white kirtled, collared, excited, ran bondmaids. These, upon the arrival of their master, are permitted to greet him. The men of the north enjoy the bright eyes, the leaping bodies, the squealing, the greetings of their bondmaids."
- Marauders of Gor, p 129
"A bondmaid thrust through the crowd. "Does my Jarl not remember Gunnhild?" she asked. She whimpered, and slipped to his side, holding him, lifting her lips to kiss him on the throat, beneath the beard. About her neck, riveted, was a collar of black iron, with a welded ring, to which a chain might be attached. "What of Pouting Lips?" said another girl, kneeling before him, lifting her eyes to his. Sometimes bondmaids are given descriptive names. The girl had full, sensuous lips..."Pouting Lips has been in agony awaiting the return of her Jarl," she whimpered. The Forkbeard shook her head with his great hand. "What of Olga?" whined another wench, sweet and strapping, black-haired; "Do not forget Pretty Ankles, my Jarl," said another wench, a delicious little thing, perhaps not more than sixteen. She thrust her lips greedily to the back of his left hand, biting at the hair there."
- Marauders of Gor, p 134
"Gunnhild, angrily, with two hands, jerked her kirtle to her waist, and stood straight, proudly before the Forkbeard, her breasts, which were marvelous, thrust forward. How magnificent she seemed, the heavy black iron at her throat, riveted. "None of them can please you," she said, "as well as Gunnhild!" He seized her in his arms and raped her lips with a kiss, his hand at her body, then threw her from him to the boards of the dock. "Prepare a feast!" he said. "Let a feast be prepared!"
- Marauders of Gor, p 134
"Please, my Jarl," she cried, "do not mark your girl!" At a sign from the Forkbeard, the iron was pressed deeply into her flesh, and held there, smoking for five Ihn. It was only when it was pulled away that she screamed...She, by the arm, was dragged from the log. She threw back her head, tears streaming down her face, and again screamed in pain. She looked down at her body. She was marked for identification."
- Marauders of Gor, p 136
"The brand used by Forkbeard is not uncommon in the north, though there is less uniformity in Torvaldsland on these matters than in the south, where the merchant caste, with its recommendations for standardization, is more powerful. All over Gor, of course, the slave girl is a familiar commodity. The brand used by the Forkbeard, found rather frequently in the north, consisted of a half circle, with, at its right tip, adjoining it, a steep, diagonal line. The half circle is about an inch and a quarter in width, and the diagonal line about an inch and a quarter in height. The brand is, like many, symbolic. In the north, the bondmaid is sometimes referred to as a woman whose belly lies beneath the sword."
- Marauders of Gor, p 136
"He opened the hinged collar of black iron, about a half inch in height. He put it about her throat. It also contained a welded ring, suitable for the attachment of a chain."
- Marauders of Gor, p 137
"A man then pulled her by the hair from the anvil and threw her to one side. She lay there weeping, a naked bondmaid, marked and collared."
- Marauders of Gor, p 137
"Sometimes," said he, "to discipline a bondmaid, she is hurled naked among the thralls." He smiled. "Do not fear. Should this be done to you I, in my turn, shall use you well, bondmaid. Quite well." She shrank back from him."
- Marauders of Gor, p 140
"Ivar Forkbeard roared with laughter, his head back. On his lap, naked, cuddling, sat she who had been Aelgifu, her arms about his neck, her lips to the side of his head; her name had now been changed; the new name of the daughter of Gurt, Administrator of Kassau, was Pudding. On his other side, stripped, her collar of black iron at her throat, her arms about his waist, rubbing herself against his belt, was the bondmaid Gunnhild."
- Marauders of Gor, p 140
"I handed the horn to Thyri, who, in her collar, naked, between two of the benches, knelt at my feet. "Yes, Jarl," said she, and ran to fill it, from the great vat......"Here, Jarl," said Thyri, again handing me the horn. It was filled with the mead of Torvaldsland, brewed from fermented honey, thick and sweet."
- Marauders of Gor, p 141
"He cut two small pieces, and thrust them in the mouths of Pudding and Gunnhild. They ate obediently, his pets."
- Marauders of Gor, p 143
I tore a piece of meat from what Ivar had thrown me and held it to Thyri. She smiled at me. She was trying to learn how to please a man. "Thank you, my Jarl," she said. She took the meat, delicately, in her teeth. I grinned, and she looked down, frightened. She knew that soon she might be taught, truly, how to please men."
- Marauders of Gor, p 143
"The bondmaid, Olga, laughing and kicking, thrown helplessly over the shoulder of an oarsman, was carried past. I saw several of the bondmaids in the arms of Ivar's men. Among them, too, some trying to resist, were the new girls. One, who had irritated an oarsman, her hands held, was beaten, crying out, with his belt. Released, she began to kiss him, weeping, trying to please him. Men laughed. Another of the new girls was thrown over one of the benches; she lay on her back; her head was down, her dark hair, long, wild, was in the dirt and reeds, strewn on the floor of the hall; her head twisted from side to side; her eyes were closed; her lips were parted; I saw her teeth. "Do not stop, my Jarl," she begged. "Your bondmaid begs you not to stop!"
- Marauders of Gor, p 146
"Gunnhild," said he, "run for a horn of mead." "Yes, my Jarl," said she, and sped from his side. In a moment, through the dark, smoky hall, returned Gunnhild, bearing a great horn of mead. "My Jarls," said she. The Forkbeard took from her the horn of mead and,together, we drained it."
- Marauders of Gor, p 150
"I looked to the Forkbeard. He had one arm about the full, naked waist of the daughter of the administrator of Kassau, Pudding, and the other about the waist of marvelously breasted, collared Gunnhild. "Taste your Pudding, my Jarl," begged Pudding. He kissed her. "Gunnhild! Gunnhild!" protested Gunnhild. Her hand was inside his furred shirt. He turned and thrust his mouth upon hers. "Let Pudding please you," wept Pudding. "Let Gunnhild please you!" cried Gunnhild. "I will please you better," said Pudding. "I will please you better!" cried Gunnhild. Ivar Forkbeard stood up; both bondmaids looked up at him, touching him; "Run to the furs," said Ivar Forkbeard, "both of you!" Both girls quickly fled to his furs."
- Marauders of Gor, p 152
"against the raised dirt, here and there, were rounded logs, laid lengthwise. Each log is ten to fifteen feet long, and commonly about eight inches to a foot thick...fitting snugly into deep, wide, circular grooves in the wood, were several iron bands. These each contained a welded ring, to which was attached a length of chain, terminating in a black-iron fetter. Gunnhild thrust out her left ankle; the Forkbeard fettered her; a moment later Pudding, too, had thrust forth her ankle, and her ankle, too, was locked in a fetter of the north"
- Marauders of Gor, p 152
"One of the new girls, from Kassau, had been thrown on her back, on the table. She lay in meat, and spilled mead. She was kicking and laughing, trying to push back from her body the pressing jackets of fur of the men of Torvaldsland."
- Marauders of Gor, p 153
"She was thrown mercilessly under him, her shoulders pressed back, her beauty his prize. I saw her head lift, thrusting her lips to his, but it was then thrust back, and she whimpered, her body squirming, held helpless, loot, his to be done with as he pleased. When he lifted his mouth from hers, she put her arms about his neck, and thrust up her head again, lips parted. "My Jarl!" she wept, "my Jarl!" Then he again thrust her back to the furs, with such force that she cried out, and then he, with rudeness and incredible force, used her for his pleasure. I saw her body struck again and again, she clinging to him, helplessly. He gave her no quarter. Bondmaids are treated without mercy. "I love you, my Jarl!" she screamed. Men at the tables, mead spilling, chewing on meat, laughed at her. She wept, and cried out with pleasure. When the fellow, an oarsman, had finished with her and would return to the table, she tried to hold him. He struck her"
- Marauders of Gor, p 153
"I saw another oarsman then crawl to her and, by the hair, pull her into his arms. In a moment I saw her collared body, desperately pressing and rubbing against him, he in her small, white arms, her belly thrust against the great buckle of the master belt. Then he, too, threw her to her back. "I love the you, my Jarls," she wept. "I love you, my Jarls!" There was much laughter."
- Marauders of Gor, p 154
"I looked down at Thyri, kneeling beside my bench. She looked up at me, frightened. She was a beautiful girl, with a beautiful face. She was delicate, sensitive. Her eyes were highly intelligent, beautiful and deep. A collar of black iron was riveted on her throat."
- Marauders of Gor, p 155
"Run to the furs, Bondmaid," I said, harshly. Thyri leaped to her feet and fled to my furs, weeping. I finished a horn of mead, rose to my feet, and went to my sleeping area...I looked upon her. Her eyes were on mine, frightened. Her body, small, white, curved, luscious, contrasted with the shadowed redness and blackness of the soft, deep furs on which she lay. She trembled. "Ankle," I told her. She extended her shapely limb. I took her ankle and, about it, closed the fetter of black iron. I then joined her upon the furs.
- Marauders of Gor, p 155-156
"How alive and vital they seemed! Their hair was loose, in the fashion of bondmaids. Their eyes shone; their cheeks were flushed; each inch of them, each marvelous embonded inch of them, was incredibly alive and beautiful. How incredibly feminine they were, so living and uninhibited and delightful, so utterly fresh, so free, so spontaneous, so open in their emotions and the movements of their bodies; they now moved and laughed and walked, and stood, as women; pride was not permitted them; joy was. Only a kirtle of thin, white wool, split to the belly, stood between their beauty and the leather of their masters."
- Marauders of Gor, p 157
"The bondmaids cried out with pleasure, Gunnhild, Pouting Lips, Olga, Thyri and others. Ottar leaped up, laughing, and raised his ax against the delighted girls. They fled back from him, squealing and laughing. "Olga," he said, "there is butter to be churning in the churning shed." "Yes, my Jarl," said she, holding her skirt up, running from the place of our exercises. "Gunnhild, Pouting Lips," said he, "to the looms." "Yes, Jarl," said they, turning, and hurrying toward the hall. Their looms lay against its west wall. "You, little wench," said Ottar to Thyri. She stepped back. "Yes, Jarl," she said. "You," he said, "gather verr dung in your kirtle and carry it to the sul patch!" "Yes, Jarl," she laughed, and turned away. I watched her, as she ran, barefoot, to do his bidding. She was exquisite. "You other lazy girls," cried Ottar, addressing the remaining bondmaids, "is it your wish to be cut into strips and fed to parsit fish?" "No, my Jarl!" they cried. "To your labors!" cried he."
- Marauders of Gor, p 158
"We stopped by the churning shed, where Olga, sweating, had finished making a keg of butter. We dipped our fingers into the keg. It was quite good. "Take it to the kitchen," said the Forkbeard. "Yes, my Jarl," she said. "Hurry, lazy girl," said he. "Yes, my Jarl," she said, seizing the rope handle of the keg and, leaning to the right to balance it, hurried from the churning shed."
- Marauders of Gor, p 161
"Pudding had come to him, and knelt before him, holding a plate of Sa-Tarna loaves. The daughter of Gurt, the Administrator of Kassau, was being taught to bake. She watched fearfully as the Forkbeard bit into one. "It needs more salt," he had said to her. She shuddered. "Do you think you are a bondmaid of the south?" he asked. "No, my Jarl," she had said. "Do you think it is enough for you to be pleasant in the furs?" he asked. "Oh, no, my Jarl!" she cried. "Bondmaids of the north must know how to do useful things," he told her. "Yes, my Jarl!" she cried. "Take these," said he, "to the stink pen and, with them, swill the tarsks!" "Yes, my Jarl," she wept, leaping to her feet, and fleeing away. "Bondmaid!" called he. She stopped, and turned. "Do you wish to go to the whipping post?" he asked. This is a stout post, outside the hall, of peeled wood, with an iron ring near the top, to which the wrists of a bondmaid, crossed, are lashed over her head. Near the bosk shed there is a similar post, with a higher ring, used for thralls. "No, my Jarl!" cried Pudding. "See then," said he, "that your baking improves!" "Yes, my Jarl," she said, and fled away."
- Marauders of Gor, p 161-162
"we had passed by the sul patch. In it, his back to us, hoeing, was the young broad-shouldered thrall, in his white tunic, with cropped hair. He did not see us. Approaching him, her kirtle held high in two hands, it filled with verr dung, was blond, collared Thyri. "She has good legs," said Ottar."
- Marauders of Gor, p 163
"How do you like it, Thyri," asked he, "to find that you are now a girl whose belly lies beneath the sword?" "It lies not beneath your sword," she snapped. "I belong to free men!"
- Marauders of Gor, p 163
"Then, with the brazenness of a bondmaid, she, Thyri, who had been the fine young lady of Kassau, threw her kirtle up over her hips and, leaning forward, spit furiously at the thrall."
- Marauders of Gor, p 163
"She looked up. "Am I to be punished, my Jarl?" she asked. "Yes," I told her. Fear entered her eyes. How beautiful she was. "But with the whip of the furs," I laughed. "I look forward eagerly, my Jarl," laughed she, "to my punishment." "Run," said I. She turned and ran toward the hall, but, after a few steps turned, and faced me. "I await your discipline, my Jarl," she cried, and then turned again, and fled, that fine young lady of Kassau, barefoot and collared, now only a bondmaid, to the hall, to the furs, to await her discipline."
- Marauders of Gor, p 166
"Is it only a bondmaid, my Jarl," asked Thyri, "who can know these pleasures?" "It is said," I said, "that only a bondmaid can know them." She lay on her back, her head turned toward me. I lay at her side, on one elbow. Her left knee was drawn up; about her left ankle, locked, was the black-iron fetter, with its chain. On her throat was the collar of iron. "Then, my Jarl," said she, "I am happy that I am a bondmaid." I took her again in my arms."
- Marauders of Gor, p 166-167
"My Jarl!" cried Thyri, running into my arms. I lifted her and swung her about. She wore the kirtle of white wool, the riveted collar of black iron. I drank long at the lips of the bondmaid."
- Marauders of Gor, p 189
"Ivar Forkbeard crushed to his leather Pudding and Gunnhild, kissing first one and then the other, as each eagerly sought his lips, their hands, too, those of bondmaids, eager upon his body. Other bondmaids pressed past me to greet favorites among the oarsmen of Forkbeard's serpent."
- Marauders of Gor, p 189
"Gunnhild is better!" said Pouting Lips. "Who is Gunnhild?" asked Hilda, coldly. "I am Gunnhild," said Gunnhild. She stood proudly on the arm of the Forkbeard, the white kirtle split to her belly, the black iron at her throat."
- Marauders of Gor, p 190
"Pet sleen are taught to heel; so, too, sometimes, are bondmaids; I was familiar with this sort of thing, of course; in the south it was quite common for slave girls, in various fashions in various cities, to heel their masters."
- Marauders of Gor, p 190
"Thick ankles!" said Pretty Ankles. "She has a rowing bench inside her gown," said Olga. "Broad in the beam!" laughed another girl. Suddenly, in fury, Hilda struck at them. The Forkbeard turned about. "What is going on here?" he asked. "We were telling her how ugly she is," said Pouting Lips. "I am not ugly!" cried Hilda. "Remove your clothing," said the Forkbeard."
- Marauders of Gor, p 193-194
"She had a fair throat, good shoulders; she was marvelously breasted; her waist was such that one could get his hands on it well; she might have been a bit broad in the beam but I had no objection to this; in the north it is called the love cradle; it was well adapted to cushion the shocks of an oarsman's pleasure"
- Marauders of Gor, p 194
"She looked up at me, wildly. I put my hand in her hair, twisting it, she crying out, and thrust her up, to a sitting position, and then, by the hair, thrust her face to mine, and our lips met, I forcing my kiss to her teeth. Her naked body, collared, suddenly responded to mine, and she reached for me with her hands."
- Marauders of Gor, p 199
"There was much laughter, and most from the beautiful, nude slaves of the men of Torvaldsland, hot, collared, and eager in their brawny arms."
- Marauders of Gor, p 206
"Before my sleeping area, my rude couch, my furs, I stopped. I stood behind her. She stood very still, facing the couch, at its foot. She was a bondmaid. She was property. She was owned. "Force me," she whispered. Bondmaids know they are chattel, and relish being treated as such. Deep in the belly, too, of every female is a desire, more ancient than the caves, to be forced to yield to the ruthless domination of a magnificent, uncompromising male, a master; deep within them they all wish to submit, vulnerably and completely, nude, to such a beast."
- Marauders of Gor, p 209-210
"I am told," I told her, "that Olga is one of the best of the bondmaids." She lifted her body to me, begging for my touch. I fondled the extent of her, kissing and licking. "What have you done to my body?" she whispered. "I have never felt this way, this deeply, this fully, before." "What does your body tell you?" I asked. "That I will be a marvel to you, Tarl Red Hair," she whispered. "A marvel!" "Please me," I told her. "Yes, my Jarl," she wept. "Yes!"
- Marauders of Gor, p 211
"Hold me," she wept. "I shall hold you," I told her, "and then, in a time, bondmaid, you will be again used." She looked at me, startled. "This," I told her, "is the first taking. It's purpose is only to warm you for the second." She clutched me, not speaking. I held her, tightly. "Can I endure such pleasure?" she asked, frightened. "You are bond," I told her. "You will have no choice."
- Marauders of Gor, p 211
"My Jarl," she asked, frightened, "is it the second taking of the Gorean master, to which you intend to subject me?" "Yes," I told her. "I have heard of it," she wept. "In it," she gasped, "the girl is permitted no quarter, no mercy!" "That is true," I told her. We lay together, silently, I holding her, she against me, chained, for something like half of an Ahn. Then I touched her. She lifted her head. "Is it beginning?" she asked. "Yes," I told her. "May a bondmaid beg one favor of her Jarl?" she asked. "Perhaps," I said. She leaned over me. I felt her hair brush my body. "Be merciless," she whispered. "Be merciless," she begged. "That is my intention," I told her, and threw her to her back."
- Marauders of Gor, p 211-212
"The man of Torvaldsland never leaves his house unless he is armed; and, within his house, his weapons are always near at hand, usually hung on the wall behind his couch, at least a foot beyond the reach of a bondmaid whose ankle is chained. Should she, lying on her back, look back and up, she sees, on the wall, the shield, the helmet, the spear and ax, the sword, in its sheath, of her master. They are visible symbols of the force by which she is kept in bondage, by which she is kept only a girl, whose belly is beneath his sword."
- Marauders of Gor, p 218
"The Forkbeard had brought with him, too, some bondmaids. They followed us. Their eyes were bright; their steps were eager; they had been long isolated on the farm; rural slave girls, the Forkbeard's wenches, they were fantastically stimulated to see the crowds; they looked upon the Thing-Fields with pleasure and excitement; even had they been permitted, some of them, to look upon certain of the contests. It is said that such pleasures improve a female slave."
- Marauders of Gor, p 220
"the Forkbeard had had his girls drop their kirtles low upon their hips, and hitch them high, that their beauty might be well exhibited, from their collars to some inches below their navels, and, too, that the turns of their calves and ankles might be similarly displayed; I would have thought that they might have groaned with humiliation and attempted to hide themselves among us, but, instead, even Pudding and Thyri, they walked as proud, shameless bondmaids"
- Marauders of Gor, p 221
"the exposure of the female's navel, on Gor, is known as the "slave belly"; only female slaves expose their navels"
- Marauders of Gor, p 221
"Look!" cried Pudding. "A silk girl!' The expression 'silk girl' is used, often, among bondmaids of the north, to refer to their counterparts in the south. The expression reflects their belief that such girls are spoiled, excessively pampered, indulged and coddled, sleek pets, who have little to do but adorn themselves with cosmetics and await their masters"
- Marauders of Gor, p 222
"Incidentally, for what it is worth, though the southern girl is, I expect, worked less hard than the northern girl, who is commonly kept on an isolated farm, she is more often than her northern sister put to the switch or whip"
- Marauders of Gor, p 223
"High-farm girls!" she whispered, as she passed the bondmaids of Ivar Forkbeard. In the south the southern slave girl commonly regards her northern counterparts as bumpkins, dolts from the high farms on the slopes of the mountains of Torvaldsland; she thinks of them as doing little but swilling tarsk and dunging fields; she regards them as, essentially, nothing more than a form of bosk cow, used to work, to give simple pleasure to rude men, and to breed thralls."
- Marauders of Gor, p 223
"Pierced-ear girl!" screamed Pouting Lips. The silk girl turned, stricken. She put her hands to her ears. There were sudden tears in her eyes. Then, weeping, she turned away, her head in her hands, and fled after her master."
- Marauders of Gor, p 224
"Your girls walk well," I told Ivar. "They are bondmaids," said he, "under the eyes of strange men."
- Marauders of Gor, p 232-233
"the female slave, knowing she is slave, finds it stimulating to be exposed to the inspection of unknown men; do they find her body pleasing; do they want it; is she desired; she sees their looks, their pleasure; these things, for example, do they wish they owned her, she finds gratifying; she is a female; she is proud of her allure, her beauty; further, she is stimulated by knowing that one of these strange men might buy her, might own her, and that then she would have to please him, and well; the eyes of a handsome free man and a slave girl meet; she sees he wonders how she would be in the furs; he sees that she, furtively, speculates on what it would be like to be owned by him; she smiles, and, in her collar, hurries on; both receive pleasure."
- Marauders of Gor, p 233
"How shameful!" said the free woman, sternly. The slave girls groveled at her feet. Slave girls fear free women muchly. It is almost as if there were some unspoken war between them, almost as if they might be mortal enemies. In such a war, or such an enmity, of course, the slave girl is completely at the mercy of the free person; she is only slave. One of the great fears of a slave girl is that she will be sold to a woman. Free women treat their female slaves with incredible hatred and cruelty."
- Marauders of Gor, p 238
"Laughing, once more proud of their bodies, the girls of the Forkbeard insolently slung their kirtles low on their hips, and hitched them high over their calves, even half way up their delightful thighs."
- Marauders of Gor, p 243
"Kneel," said the Forkbeard to the girl, "legs apart, palms of your hands on your thighs." With a movement of chain, she did so."
- Marauders of Gor, p 250
"I had felt Olga's small fingers at my ankle; she was, like several of the other bondmaids, chained by the left ankle, the chain some eight feet in length, to a stake driven into the earth near the center of the Forkbeard's tent; she had crawled to the extent of her chain, her left leg extended behind her, and had stretched her right hand toward me; I took the furs to her side, wrapped her within them with me, and had much pleasure with her; we fell asleep two Ahn afterward, she still held in my arms, her head on my shoulder."
- Marauders of Gor, p 296
"The girls, though collared in the manner of Torvaldsland, and serving men, were fully clothed. Their kirtles of white wool, smudged and stained with grease, fell to their ankles; they hurried about; they were barefoot; their arms, too, were bare; their hair was tied with strings behind their heads, to keep it free from sparks; their faces were, on the whole, dirty, smudged with dirt and grease; they were worked hard"
- Marauders of Gor, p 299
"You need not address me as your Jarl, my dear," said Svein Blue Tooth. "I am not your Jarl." "But every free man is my Jarl," she said. "You see, my Jarl," said she, lifting her head proudly and pulling her rich, glistening robes some inches down upon her shoulders, "I wear the collar of Ivar Forkbeard."
- Marauders of Gor, p 307
"My master does what he pleases, Lady," said Hilda.
- Marauders of Gor, p 307
"I observed the brand. She was now only another girl whose belly lay beneath the sword, a property-girl, a collargirl, a slave, a bondmaid."
- Marauders of Gor, p 309
"Go," said Ivar to her. She lifted her head to him. "May I not have one last kiss, my Jarl?" she whispered. "Go," said he. "If you live, you will be more than kissed." "Yes, my Jarl," she said, and, obediently, slipped away into the darkness."
- Marauders of Gor, p 360
"Danger to them was of no interest to us. Their lives were unimportant. They were slaves. Accordingly, we used them to create a diversion."
- Marauders of Gor, p 379
"Not ten yards before the clash took place, Svein Blue Tooth and his lieutenants before the running line, as the girls, under the whips of Kurii, fled, terrified, seeing the axes, the leveled weapons, toward them, made a sign no bondmaid of the north mistakes, the belly sign. Almost as one the girls, crying out, flung themselves to their bellies among the bodies and the charge of the men of Torvaldsland, missing not a step, took its way over them, striking the startled Kurii with an unimpeded impact."
- Marauders of Gor, p 385
"My Jarl," said a voice. We turned about. Hilda knelt to Ivar Forkbeard, her hair to his feet. "May I not follow my Jarl?" she begged. "A lowly bondmaid begs to heel her Jarl." "Then, heel," said Ivar, good-naturedly, turning away. "Thank you, my Jarl!" she wept, leaping to her feet, and falling into step on his left, two steps behind him."
- Marauders of Gor, p 392
"I think," said Ivar Forkbeard, "I will give her for a month to Gunnhild, and my other wenches. They will enjoy having their own slave. Then, when the month is done, I will turn her over to the crew, and she will be, then, as my other bondmaids, no more or less."
- Marauders of Gor, p 400
"Take them to the pen," he said to Olga. Olga slapped her switch in the palm of her hand. "On your feet, Slaves," she said. The girls struggled to their feet. "To the pen, hurry!" she snapped. "You will be given to men!" The girls began to run. As each one passed Olga, she, below the small of the back, was expedited with a sharp stroke of the switch. Then Olga, much pleased, laughing, trotting beside them, herded the running, weeping, stumbling coffle toward the pen."
- Marauders of Gor, p 401
"Hilda crept to him, and knelt before him. She put her head softly to his feet, and then lifted her head and, tears in her eyes, looked up at him. "A girl is grateful," she said, "—my Jarl."
- Marauders of Gor, p 404
"To the pen with you, Wench," said the Forkbeard. "Yes," she said, "my Jarl! Yes!" She leapt up. When she turned about, the Forkbeard dealt her a mighty blow, swift and stinging, with the flat of his sword. She was, after all, only a common bondmaid. She cried out, startled, sobbing, and stumbled more than a dozen steps before she regained her balance. Then she turned and, sobbing, laughing, cried out joyfully, "I love you, my Jarl! I love you!" He raised the weapon again, flat side threatening her, and she turned and, laughing, sobbing, only one of his girls, fled to the pen."
- Marauders of Gor, p 404
"No longer would she, in her free woman's scorn, shower contempt on bondmaids, trying to make them ashamed of their beauty. She, too, now, was no more than they."
- Marauders of Gor, p 421
"Bera went to the next man, to fill his cup with mead, from the heavy, hot tankard, gripped with cloth, which she carried. She was sweating. She was barefoot. The bondmaid was happy."
- Marauders of Gor, p 421-422
"The wench Leah again pressed herself against me. I looked down upon her. "You are a wanton slave," I said. She looked up at me, laughing. "A girl in a collar is not permitted inhibitions," she said. It was true. Slave girls must reveal their sexual nature, totally. Do they not do so, they are beaten."
- Marauders of Gor, p 422
"Leah boarded the ship. She was barefoot. I had given her a brief, woolen slave tunic, which came high about her hips; it was sleeveless; it was split to the belly, belted with binding fiber."
- Marauders of Gor, p 439
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