The Collar
I remember the day quite clearly that I first saw him. I was newly collared and
in public for the first time dressed in the white silk garments of a slave. I
knelt in the gardens with my owner and chain sister, eyes wide and fascinated at
this place and the people.
He walked by ... the first person I saw on Gor as a collared slave. Because of
that I remembered his name.
As a white silk girl there were certain ways I was expected to behave and many
places I was not permitted to go alone.
I spent a lot of time in the gardens talking quietly or laughing with other
slaves. And I watched for him. My owner was away on business and I spent most of
my time alone ... talking, learning ... and watching. I always knew when he
entered and would smile and greet him, not knowing at first if he even
remembered me. In time we came to speak of many things, both of Gor and Earth.
We skipped stones.
Perhaps there are people who did not know him then who would disbelieve that he
would behave that way. Whether he ever did with others, I cannot say. With me,
he did.
"When we did those things, you were mine."
He said this to me. Not a question, but a statement. I could not deny his words.
It would have been a lie. It was no secret so long ago. He could have owned me
then.
It is irrelevant. He owns me now.
Last night we left the tavern and went to a metalsmith shop. He left me there,
saying nothing except that once he left the shop I was to obey the metalworker
and that I was not to struggle. I had no idea what that meant ... and in the
terror of thoughts racing through my mind came an understanding of slavery that
up to that moment had not been real to me. I could have been sold ... put to
work ... used ... anything. I am a slave. My fate was not mine, nor did it have
to be explained to me beforehand.
I was there to have a collar fitted to my neck. Flung to a work table, my head
held still, the simple, smooth grey metal collar was hammered shut. There is no
lock ... It is not meant to be removed. The statement it makes is irrefutable
and unambiguous.
"I am Joy. My Master is Szol of Ar."