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She had then, with apparent interest, seemed to be considering her ankle, and she had then turned to him, her hands at her ankle, and inquired, innocently, "Do you think, Master, that my ankle would look well in a golden shackle?" He had risen, not speaking, and turned away. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 18, Sentence #796)

In that way she could make him suffer. And she had no doubt but what she had caused him, in the past few days, considerable uneasiness. Just yesterday she had sat in the straw, in the open barn area, sitting to one side of him, as he had worked nearby, and extended her left leg, partly bent, her tunic dropping away, split as it was, to reveal a good deal of thigh. She had then, with apparent interest, seemed to be considering her ankle, and she had then turned to him, her hands at her ankle, and inquired, innocently, "Do you think, Master, that my ankle would look well in a golden shackle?" He had risen, not speaking, and turned away. She had called after him. "I am thinking of asking my master for bells. Do you think I would look well, belled?" Then, angrily, not looking at her, his shoulders tight with fury, he had left the room. - (Prize of Gor)