“Why do you not drink?” I asked her.

“Why do you not drink?” I asked her.
“A girl does not drink before her master,” she said.
“I see that you are not totally stupid,” I said.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.


I then sipped the black wine. She, too, then, after it was clear that I had drunk, lifted her own cup to her lips.
“Yes,” I said, “you may drink, Slave.”
She then, head down, holding the small cup by its two tiny handles, sipped the beverage.

Guardsmen of Gor, p. 484

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