Once upon a collar

There was purpose in my strides as I wound my way through the harigga. I needed to speak with Fonce. These things he needed to hear from me and not someone else. I sought his advice as well.

I could think of no other collar besides his that I could feel such an honor in wearing, but I could not lie. I could not change how I felt nor the honesty that I had offered with my own words. I couldn't fold the two halves into one no matter how much I wished I could. I was slave to one and only one and regardless of whether he ever allowed me close again ... I lived with the decision I had made. Their hesitation had come from knowing and seeing those truths, knowing that I would never be able to give fully all that was within me to anyone but else. I had meant no disrespect but I was prepared for whatever he doled out for the insult that could have been taken by the other.

He was so very different as he spoke with me. The openness of our discussion allowed me to reveal the depth of many feelings, brief, precise and concise. One would have thought I had grown accustomed to his questions but the without the intensity behind them, I found myself caught off guard. Was this why I had been avoiding people? I honestly hadn't thought I had. I gave as much of myself as I could into the service he had sent me. Responsibilities at the pens and around the Kaiila Mistress wagons had kept me preoccupied, it was true but no I hadn't consciously avoided ... anyone. When he spoke of having been watching me, it was no surprise. I'd felt it even from the distance. Sometimes it unnerved me but I had grown used to it. I had accepted that it was in some small way .. a connection, at least for me.

Do you remember when I freed you? I wanted to tell him that I relived those moments over and over. My fingers rose to touch the ring I bore now trying to find enough voice to answer ... I remember well. It was a time I made a choice, one that I still don't regret. How could he tell me it was not all just a mind fuck like we were talking about the weather? Well, I do and I don't know that. I know he doesn't do anything without reason but not knowing what those are, leaves room for a whole lot of wondering. Without communication, without the give and take of discussion, there is sometimes far too much left unsaid. Whatever he was about to say next, he wound up sounding a lot like I do with the crash of statement and question into one another but the bottom line was point blank. Did I want to be free?

How could I be anything but open and honest with him? I wanted to be his with whatever that meant to go along with it .. that 'all encompassing' that I had once been so welcoming to before I began to understand what that meant. It was a bit redundant to tell me he did not handle being hurt well or that he didn't allow people to get close afterward very easily. I don't handle being hurt well either but what I confessed was that I did not have a desire or wish to be touched by any other. Was it because I know how jealous he could be or was it me .. who I was? He could have beaten me all he wished if it were so simple as his jealousy, perhaps if I was a different woman I might toy with that but the fact was if I did not have the feelings for him that I do I would not tolerate even his touch .. like it or not. All of the next part of the conversation spilled in on itself as my thoughts tripped on that one sentence ... I should not be in a collar. He couldn't take me as his own right now, there was too much to be worked out between us. If I cared enough to work at them, it would show but for now ... if I was free in my mind and in my heart then I needed to be freed from the collar. It wasn't something he offered to just anyone. So much of what he was saying went without thought as pure truths but to hear them .. spoken aloud ... embedded them, filled vacuums that had rung hollow before this.

I did remember those first days, I remembered how he spoke of not being able to trust or be close to a woman that wasn't bound to him. A woman that he would take as his own had three requirements, she would be Tuchuk, she would come from a good family and she would be pristine virginal. All of those words hit home now as he spoke. How dare he offer hope? He was a Tuchuk male, he could and would do as he wished. The ache that was overtaking me left a numbness that threatened to lash out in the form of tears. I cared for him as I have cared for no other but he had asked me to be myself and I had clung to that even now as it felt as if a chasm was opening up that may never be breached. The want and desire of something greater than myself even if meant the loss of even my own wants and desires. I swallowed it all hard to be able to continue. I'd depended on his generosity and the generosity of others for my keep. It took everything I had to hold to my objectivity when he spoke of his own caring, if he didn't he would not be so angry. I knew, I felt it. Oh skies ... I felt it.

As he spoke of sending me back to Cana, the words "as a prospect" shook me to the core. Had he once, just once, seen slave-like behavior of me with others he could not do what he was doing. I knew it was a reference to sexuality and not my service, without his reminder. In this, those few words, he offered a bit of salve letting me know that I had served him honorably. I understood the line he walked on now although I would not be able to see it in its full scope until much later. For now my mind was reeling far too intensely, throbbing, swirling imploding in on itself. All I could manage was a rasped whisper that I had tried, I had tried to bring him honor, tried to give to the Tribe all that I could and I had tried to feel as the other slaves did ... and had failed. All of the outpouring silenced with the touch of his finger against my lips.

Let it go.