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I threw myself against the chain, running toward his tent, and fell in the grass, my ankle burning, scraped, from the steel that obdurately clasped it. - (Captive of Gor, Chapter 16, Sentence #129)

It was some eight feet long. I could not slip the manacle from my ankle; I could not free the chain from its ring. I wept. I threw myself against the chain, running toward his tent, and fell in the grass, my ankle burning, scraped, from the steel that obdurately clasped it. On my hands and knees I tried to crawl to the tent. My left leg stretched taut behind me, held. I cried out with frustration, and pounded the grassy earth, weeping, with my fists. - (Captive of Gor)