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I trembled, looking down at the floor. How they had looked at me, so eagerly, so excitedly, relishing me, reveling in what they saw, and knowing that I, the dancer, was collared, that I could be owned. Mirus, I recalled, had almost had to drive them away from me, almost as one might force lions from meat. Mirus, too, I recalled, had himself turned away from me, at the end, when we were alone, with a sudden abruptness. I now thought that I understood that. He, too, I suspected, like the others, had found me not without interest. Indeed, the first question he had addressed to me in this house, when he had unroped the blanket from about me, and I was before him, naked, my wrists manacled behind my back, was whether or not I was "white silk". - (Dancer of Gor)