"He extended his goblet to me. 'Drink,' he said, offering me the cup.
I looked at the rim of the cup. I shook with terror. 'A slave girl dares not touch with her lips the rim of that cup which has been touched with the lips of her master,' I whispered.
'Excellent,' said Verna.
'She was trained in the pens of Ko-ro-ba,' said Rask of Treve.
He then, form his own cup, poured some wine into a small bowl, which he handed to me.
'Thank you, Master,' I breathed.
With his head Rask of Treve gestured me to one side, and I went and knelt to one side, as I had before.
I put back my head and drank the wine. It was Ka-la-na wine. I felt it almost immediately."

Book 7, Captive of Gor, page 302 ~¤~

"...she, looking at him, timidly kissed the side of the cup and placed it before him."

Book 10, Tribesmen of Gor, page 89 ~¤~

"They called for more wine and paga and Eta, and I, too, hastened to serve them. We, two, moved among them. I, too, now served then in the firelight. I would pour paga, which I carried, into a goblet, kiss it, as was expected, and give it to the man. "Paga!" called my captor. I almost fainted. I went to him and, shaking, poured paga into his goblet; I was terrified that I might spill it; it was not only that I feared, should I spill the beverage, that I might be beaten for my clumsiness; it was even more than I wished to appear graceful and beautiful before him; but I shook, and was awkward; the paga sloshed in the goblet but, as my heart almost stood still, it did not spill; he looked at me; I was a clumsy girl, and a poor slave; I felt so small and unworthy before him; I was not only a girl, small and weak before these mighty men; I was not even a good slave. Trembling, I extended the goblet to him. He did not take it. I shrank back, confused. I did not know what to do. I realizes then that I had, in my confusion and distress, forgotten to place my lips upon the goblet in subservience. I quickly pressed my lips to the goblet, kissing it. Then, suddenly, as I was to hand it to him, I boldly, again, lifted the goblet’s side to my lips. Holding it in both hands, I kissed it again, lovingly, delicately, fully, lingering, my eyes closed. I had never kissed a boy on Earth with the helplessness and passion that I bestowed upon the mere goblet of my Gorean captor. I belonged to him. I was his. I loved him! I felt the metal of the cup beneath my full, pressing lips. I opened my eyes. I proffered, tears in my eyes, the cup of paga to my captor. It was though, with the cup, I was giving myself to him. Yet I knew I needed not give myself to him, for I was his, and a slave girl; he could take me whenever he wished me. He took the cup from my hands, and dismissed me."

Book 11, Slave Girl of Gor, pages 68 - 69

"Angrily, with helpless anger, the futile meaningless anger of a slavegirl, I again pressed my lips to the cup, this time fully and lingeringly. Again I extended to him the cup. This time he took it."

Book 11, Slave Girl of Gor, page 88

"One of the men lifted his cup and I hurried to him. I took the cup and filled it...then I pressed my lips to his cup as I must, as a slave girl, and handed it to him."

Book 11, Slave Girl of Gor, page 89

"My master extended his cup to me, and I, kneeling, filled it with Sul paga. I pressed my lips to the cup, and handed it to him. My eyes smarted. I almost felt drunk from the fumes."

Book 11, Slave Girl of Gor, page 134

" 'Paga Master?' she asked, kneeling before me, the metal cup held before her, in two hands.
'Yes,' I said.
She proffered the cup to me. She knelt back on her heels, her knees wide, and extended her arms to me, the cup held in her hands.
'Did you not neglect to kiss it?' I asked her.
She drew back the cup pressing her lips to it, kissed it.
'Is that how a slave kisses the cup of a Master?' I asked.
She again turned her head to the side and pressed her lips softly, lingeringly, against it. Then she kissed it. I saw a tremor course through her body. I think then, for the first time, she had begun to understand what it might be truly, to kiss the cup of a Master. Then again kneeling back on her heels, her knees wide, extending her arms to me, the cup in her hands, she proffered me the drink.
'Your head should be down, between your arms,' I said. She put her head down. Again I saw a small movement in her body, a tremor, subtle. She had put her head down before a man. Another consequence of this position is that the girls eyes, in the specific act of her serving, do not meet those of the Master. they are lowered before his, as one who submits. This is reminiscent, in an experienced girl, of her training. Often in training, a girl is not permitted to look into the eyes of the trainer, unless he should specifically extend this permission. Indeed, in some cities, the girl in training may not raise her eyes above the trainers belt, unless, again, specifically accorded this permission."

Book 13, Explorers of Gor, pages 159 - 161

"When the girl had finished serving Shaba she straightened up and came about the table, to where her cup rested on the low wood.
She reached for it, but Msaliti moved it out of her reach. She looked at him, puzzled.
'Does a paga slave drink at the table of master?' he asked.
She laughed. 'Of course not,' she said.
'You could be whipped for that,' he said.
'Yes,' she said, 'that is true.' She smiled. She then went to where her clothing had been discarded, on the floor. She bent to pick it up, to reclothe herself.
'Do not dress,' said Msaliti.
'Why not?' she asked.
'Kneel thre,' said Msaliti, indicating a place about a yard from the table.
'Why?' she asked.
'There,' he said.
She knelt there, puzzled. It was about where a paga slave might kneel, close enough to be ready to serve at the merest signal, far enough away to be unobtrusive.
'You see,' she said to me, 'I have been well trained.'
'Yes,' I said.
'You were not given permission to speak,' said Msaliti to the girl.
She looked at him, puzled.
'You could be whipped also for that,' he said."

Book 13, Explorers of Gor, pages 161 - 162 ~¤~

"Serve me wine, Jason," she said, distractedly. "As a slave girl," she added.
"Yes Mistress," I said, bitterly.
"Do I detect bitterness?" she asked, not turning about.
"No, Mistress," I said.
"Good," she said. "You are a true man of Earth, fit to be the slave of a woman."
"Yes, Mistress," I said. I found some wine, and poured a bit for her. Then, as I had seen Lola do for me, I pressed the goblet into my lower abdomen and then lifted it to my lips, where, turning my head, I kissed it. Then, head down, kneeling back on my heels, arms extended, I proffered it to the Mistress.
"Excellent, Jason," she said.

Book 14, Fighting Slave of Gor, page 129 ~¤~

Book 19, Kajira of Gor, page 216