“Bread, paga, porridge,” I said to her.

“Bread, paga, porridge,” I said to her.
“Very well,” she said.
“Very well, what?” I asked.
“Very well, Sir,” she said.
“Head to the floor before you get up,” I said.
She put her head angrily down to the floor, the palms of her hands on the floor, and then straightened up.

Renegades of Gor, p. 100