It was a simple arousal tie, the sort of tie which well reminds a woman she is a slave. To be sure, it was perhaps a bit more severe, or cruel, than was necessary, and scarcely one in which one would be likely to place a beloved slave. But we must remember that the feelings of Selius Arconious toward his recent purchase were rather ambivalent. It is a tie, incidentally, not unfamiliar to slavers, particularly with captured free women, whom they are endeavoring to begin to acquaint with what is to be the nature of their new life, that of a sexual creature, that of a man’s plaything and chattel.
But bonds, in general, are sexually arousing to a woman, as they speak to her of her vulnerability and helplessness, and of her subjection to the power of men. Simply leaving a woman alone, bound, perhaps for the time put out of one’s mind, say, neglected or forgotten, is sexually charging for her. And there are hundreds of passion ties. The numerous psychological dimensions of sexuality, well understood by, and well exploited by, Gorean masters, enhance a thousand times the sexual experiences of their chattels. The human female is an incredibly rich, lovely complexus of mind, body and emotions, and her sexual life is a rich one, limited not to a handful of Ahn, now and then, but one which can enrich and inform her entire existence. Indeed, the very condition of bondage itself, and what it means to a female, enflames her in a thousand ways.
She belongs, as she wishes, to a master.
He has accepted her.
She is grateful.
She will serve him with devotion and zeal.
She will hope he will attend to her needs, of various sorts, as to the needs of any animal he might own.
****
Perhaps a word might be said pertaining to the collar.
The slave girl is an animal.
And are not animals suitably collared?
And so then, might not the slave girl, who is an animal, be suitably collared?
Certainly.
Then it is done.
Behold, the collar is on her neck!
The value of the collar extends far beyond the mere marking of its occupant as slave, and, usually, the identifying of her master. Such features are obvious, and require little attention.
It is locked, of course, and that, as you might well suppose, is meaningful.
She cannot remove her collar.
Would you not find that meaningful?
I do.
Similarly certain other aspects of the collar would seem so obvious as to require no lengthy explication, such as its various aesthetic and psychological features, which have an impact on both the wearer and he beneath whose scrutiny she falls. The collar is a beautiful ornament, of course, and muchly enhances the loveliness of she who must wear it. Consider the zest and attention devoted by the women of Earth to lovely throat-encircling enhancements, beads, bands, chains, and such, with which to bedeck themselves. I have often thought, incidentally, that a Gorean slave collar might be prized as an ornament on Earth. One supposes it would be expensive there, which seems amusing, given its commonness on Gor. Too, doubtless it would have to be called something else. I wonder if a woman of Earth would understand its meaning. I suspect that she might experience strange sensations when she put it about her neck, and heard it close. Surely, fearfully, she would wish to keep the key close at hand. But what if the giver chose to put it on her and retain the key? But I suspect that any woman, even a free woman, of Earth, who wore such a thing would be suddenly aware, this perhaps frightening her, of the slave within her. Too, at home, after, say, her attendance at a dinner or cocktail party, or such, she might remove the device in fear, recalling how men had, perhaps for the first time in her life, at least in that particular way, in so unsettling and predatory a way, looked upon her, and approached her, and had circled about her, as might have ravening wolves about a young and vulnerable hind. She might then dare to wear it only naked, before her mirror, or stripped, in bed, weeping. But perhaps she would one day see her master and put on the device and approach him, and kneel before him, handing him the key. “I give you the key to my collar, Master. I would be your slave. It is my hope that you might find me acceptable.” Gorean free women, incidentally, will seldom encircle their throats with jewelry of any sort, even in the privacy of their quarters, I suspect, as such things in their culture, speak to them of bondage. Slavers have often commented on the fondness of the women of Earth for throat encirclements, necklaces, and such, particularly for those which require a fastening and cannot be lifted away, over the head. They seem to take this as significant. Perhaps it is. I do not know. Certainly there is beauty there and an analogy to the collar of a slave. The throat is, of course, the ideal mounting point for an insignia of bondage, as it is both secure and prominent. The psychological aspects involved in these matters have been hinted at. I think we need not elaborate on them, as they seem reasonably clear.
Let us now turn, as we originally intended, to matters which are interesting, at least in my view, but, I fear, which may be less obvious than those with which we have hitherto dealt.
It is my hope that some attention to these cultural matters may be found illuminating, and add, in their way, to your deeper understanding of this narrative, and, certainly, of the Gorean culture.
It may be a culture quite different from that with which you are likely to be familiar. Yet, I am sure it has affinities with your culture, and, in an obscure way, perhaps biologically, it may lie ingredient within your own. It is, in any event, a human culture, and thus it cannot be utterly alien to you.
In a collar, and I hope this will not be surprising, a woman may find clarity and comfort, and her meaning and redemption. I wonder if that is hard to understand. I hope not.
As these matters are complex and subtle I will mention no more than a tiny corner of the concealed fabric, of the vast hidden tapestry into which are woven so many persistent, whispering truths.
In the collar she has a precisely defined cultural reality. Perhaps for the first time in her life she is something perfectly comprehensible and actual, something specific and unambiguous. It gives her an exact identity, and an articulated, and clearly understood, position in society, a society in which she finds herself, whether she wishes it or not, a familiar, prized and beautiful ingredient. Men follow her about, in her errands and peregrinations, and look upon her, and admire and value her, and speculate upon her lineaments and the coins that might bring them to their slave ring. She is scorned and celebrated, the victim of ropes and the subject of songs, the lowliest of beasts and the most desiderated of possessions. She is a slave. For her, now, at last, all ambiguities, uncertainties, confusions, pretensions, hypocrisies, vyings, and such, the banes of a free woman’s existence, are at an end. She is slave.
In it she knows she has been found attractive, and is desired. She is wanted. A man has seen fit to put her in his collar.
In this she is reassured indisputably of her femininity.
She knows now what she is, and what she must do, and what she must be.
And at the feet of a man, as his slave, she is fulfilled in her womanhood.
She receives the guidance, domination, nurturance, discipline and mastering for which she yearns, which she needs, and for which she has been bred.
She is now where she belongs, at a master’s feet, and is obedient, and humbly content.
Perhaps one might also note something further, but hope, as well, that this further observation will not be found disturbing, or disconcerting, to free women, might these recollections and reflections, however unlikely, come somehow someday within their ken, that of creatures so noble and refined, so lofty, so exalted and esteemed, so beyond one such as I, a slave, creatures who have never stood naked upon a slave block, hearing bids being taken on them, who have never worn a chain at a man’s feet.