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Her bladder had been crying for relief, but she had feared to soil the straw, even at the end of the chain. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #1153)

This place is a barn, she thought, but it is too high for a barn. What manner of place can this be? What animals, what beasts, what creatures, could be kept here, so high? As she explored, with her body, legs and fingers, behind her, as she could, hooded, her small wooden-floored, straw-strewn housing, which seemed clearly to be some sort of stall, she discovered, to her joy, within the scope of her chain, which was all that was permitted her, a large, porcelainlike bowl. It had been rinsed, but, from its size, she knew it could not be for feeding or watering, but must be for wastes. Her bladder had been crying for relief, but she had feared to soil the straw, even at the end of the chain. She feared to be again beaten. Masters are not patient with careless slaves. Such bowls, or vessels, of course, serve an obvious purpose, and are common in kennels and cells. - (Prize of Gor)