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"I am yours!" I thrust her head back and, rudely, put the collar on her. - (Guardsman of Gor, Chapter 19, Sentence #300)

"Please give me your collar! I know I am of Earth, and am thus unworthy of a Gorean slave collar, but still I beg it! And are we not put in them, and kept in them? Is it not why we are brought here, to wear your collars? Is it not right for us? How fortunate we are, to be accepted by the men of Gor as slaves! How we rejoice to be permitted to be the slaves of such men! Please grant me this token of my value, of my worth, this token that you find me of interest, that you are willing to own me! Please, beloved Master, honor me, however unworthy I am, with your collar! I will wear it with love and pride! Dignify me, glorify me, only a woman of Earth, by possessing me! I want to be owned, I beg to be owned, by one such as you!" I looked down upon her, piteous before me. I thought her lovely throat would look well encircled with the slave band of Gor. "Collar me, Master," she begged. "I am yours!" I thrust her head back and, rudely, put the collar on her. "Thank you, Master!" she breathed. "Thank you!" I lifted her up, by the upper arms, half lifting her from her knees. Her head was back. - (Guardsman of Gor)