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What is the point, I wondered, of being in a collar, if it were not the collar of a master? I was uneasy. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 11, Sentence #60)

Chains are arousing to a female who knows she is a slave, and what she is for, and yet these were not the chains of a man, a master whose helpless possession and plaything one might know oneself to be, but those of a mistress and a beast, to neither of which, I gathered, was I of more interest than a small, silken, pet sleen. I would with my left hand sometimes touch the collar on my throat. Sometimes I would try to pull it off, but it was locked on me. What is the point, I wondered, of being in a collar, if it were not the collar of a master? I was uneasy. My belly, my thighs, were restless. I remembered the kitchen of the eating house. There, at least, from time to time, men would put me in their hands, and do astonishing things to me, which left me in no doubt as to my bondage. - (Conspirators of Gor)