“You may feed, Phyllis,” he said

“You may feed, Phyllis,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
“Appropriately,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
I went to all fours, put down my head, and began to feed. I must not, of course, use my hands. There are a thousand ways in which a girl’s knowledge of her bondage may be forced into every cell of her body. A girl’s food bowl and water bowl are often kept on the floor of the kitchen, in a corner, sometimes in the vicinity of the master’s couch. Many a girl has fed so, the master standing over her, with his whip. Later, he may not even be present, or he might be to one side, scarcely noticing, perhaps reading.
[…]
Kurik, of course, seldom forgot, or neglected, my feeding. I did know enough, of course, not to ask to be fed.

Plunder of Gor, p. 351

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