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She looked about for slippers, or footwear of some sort, but detected none. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 3, Sentence #42)

The ropes, fastened to the posts, would have to lead to, say, a yard away in each case, the wrists and ankles of their captive. She hurried in horror from the surface of that great bed, from the whispering of its softness, the intimations of its posts, from its decadent suggestions of ecstatic, unbelievable pleasures imposed mercilessly, perhaps even curiously, or indifferently, on helpless, writhing victims. She felt the shock of the cool marble floor on her feet, and realized that she was, of course, barefooted. She looked about for slippers, or footwear of some sort, but detected none. She moaned, angrily. Then, suddenly, she cried out in dismay, and backed toward the bed, until she felt its obdurate, solid frame against the back of her thighs, beneath the gown, which could be opened from the back. She sat back, disbelievingly, on the bed, on the discarded, unruly covers. - (Prize of Gor)