I awoke sore but happy. It was the first time in months that I had felt the sticky, morning after feeling of sex, and the first time ever that I happy with it. There was none of the cold, lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that I had been used and tossed aside once again. My master was still holding me, breathing softly against the top of my head. I had fallen to the side in the night, so was no longer on master's stomach, but I was held just as tightly by his arms as I curled against his chest. I knew that I should get up, but for once I allowed my self just a few more minutes of sleep. I knew that my master wouldn't be more than annoyed, and I trusted that he would not punish me harshly for it. I was rewarded for this trust by being held and snuggled until late in the morning. I had never felt so... cherished before.
I was jubilant through breakfast, though I'm well aware that my face, schooled by years of torture to show no expression, revealed very little of my emotions. I had never a master who cared for me as much as this one did, or even bothered to know me at all. I was grateful, and tried to give the trust that master had asked for as fully as I could. I felt brave enough, even, to tell master about the pet names.
"Pet names?" master echoed, confused. "Why would I want to limit myself to one pet name for you. I have several that I think would fit."
"It's not a pet name like that, master. It's a slave name."
"Oh. Why can't I call you Heero?"
"That's my real name. It's on my papers. Most masters keep their slaves' real names secret so that competitors won't try to claim them or hack into the files and transfer their ownership. The slave's real name is the master's property, but even he cannot change it, so it is something of a commodity."
"So Heero is your real name? What's your full name then?"
"Heero 10-1 Yuy."
"10-1? What does that mean?"
"A slave's middle name is always a number code. 10, meaning the tenth year of Collar's activation. 1, meaning I was the first slave brought in that year."
"I see. Well, I will continue to call you Heero when we are alone, but I suppose you will need a nickname for time when we are in public." Master paused, seeming to search the air for my new name. After a moment, he smiled. "Alright, I'll call you angel."
"Angel, master?" I questioned. "Are you certain?"
"What's the matter?" he asked, looking a little disappointed, "You don't like it?"
"I... I'm certain that there are several other pets called Angel, master. It might get confusing," I sidestepped, hoping to avoid making a direct answer.
"I suppose so," master conceded. "I suppose I'll have to give this some thought," he said, rising from the table and our finished breakfast, "Now, get to that workout, lazy one. Perhaps that's what I should call you. What do you think?" he teased. I gave him a glare and marched to the gym.
Lazy indeed!
It was late afternoon before master called a halt to my practice and I was nearly exhausted, but master had kept a close eye on me to keep me from fainting. I was pleased that I was already starting to regain strength in my limbs and almost purred from the compliments master had given me. I had hardly ever received compliments from my other masters and then usually if they wanted something from me, and my first master had always seen my flaws, never my triumphs. Master's compliments were genuine and I took them to heart, while also trying extra hard to fix any deficiencies the master pointed out. The pride in his eyes was well worth my sweat.
It was around the table again that my master struck up another conversation, which I could feel would turn into another of his information drilling sessions.
"What kinds of games do they play in Collar?" he asked as he lifted a fork of Chinese noodles to his mouth. It seemed that my master had never learned to use chopsticks. I used my chopsticks to lift a piece of pork to my mouth before answering.
"Do you mean the Collar tournament, or gambling?" I asked.
"Both, I suppose. What do they gamble with on Collar? How much do they spend?"
"They don't usually gamble for money on Collar. Sometimes a master will have a party game for a few thousand credits or something like that, but the serious gambling is done for slave papers."
"Oh? You mean they gamble away their slaves?"
"Not always, sometimes a slave must perform a certain act for the winning master, but, yes, sometimes a master will give their slave up through gambling."
"This is allowed?"
"Yes. A master is allowed to have several slaves, but the better slaves are almost always the ones who have been trained for a while. Certain masters take in nothing but new slaves and break them, but it is far easier to gamble for a slave that is already trained than one that is new."
"I see," master said again, staring morbidly into his glass of wine. Upset by this conversation, I took a drink from my own glass, filled with peach juice, and stared at the table.
I was terribly frightened that my master would gamble me away. It would be easy for master to purchase more slaves, but any he could get from a warehouse would be as disreputable as I was. If he were to gamble and lose me I would certainly be taken back to the warehouse.
"I'm not going to lose you," master said suddenly, startling me into spilling some of my juice. I looked up to find him staring at me and blushed. I must have allowed him to see how frightened I was.
"But, master," I reasoned despite myself, "you will need better slaves to win Collar. That is what you want, isn't it? I am certain that there are many slaves better..."
"You're not going to convince me to let you go, and I know you don't want to leave, so stop being foolish. If there are more capable slaves out there you will just have to work harder. Now, look at me," he said, pulling my face to meet his eyes, "I will not lose what is mine, angel."
The emotion overcame me for a moment and I had to look away. When I looked back up I smiled and tried to look teasing.
"So, I guess my name is angel?" I said, my tone as disappointed as I could make it through my relief.
Master chuckled and said, "We'll see," then continued with the questioning. "What kinds of gambling do they play at Collar? Something like cards or horse races?" he asked. I hadn't truly realized how new my master was.
"There are races, but they are always run by the slaves. Sometimes masters will do cards or even coin tosses, but often times they test how well a master has trained their slave," I said, lowering my eyes. Collar was full of bad memories for me, many related to the gambling.
"Oh? How do they test this?"
"Sometimes..." I hesitated. Some of the tests were truly gruesome. "Sometimes they test how much control a master has over the slave by blindfolding the slave, gagging them, and covering their ears. Sometimes they tie them up and hang them, or force them to float in a deep pool. The slave who struggles last wins."
"How does that test the masters control?"
"The slave who struggles last is usually more afraid of punishment than of being injured by the contest. The idea is that if a slave thinks their master will let them off easy or hasn't been told what the master's limits are, he will begin to struggle as soon as he feels unsafe. A well controlled slave knows that he is better off being hurt by the game than displeasing his master."
"I see," master said, contemplating my words. "I would think trust would be more important in these games," he muttered offhandedly.
"Master?" I questioned. He turned to me and smiled.
"If I must enter you in on of these contests, I will need you to trust me. You know that I would never let you be injured, right? I protect what is mine, Heero," he told me, holding me in place with his eyes. I nodded. Master would protect me.
Suddenly, he sighed and lowered his head. "I suppose I'm a glutton for punishment, but that's not all, is it? Not that it's not more than enough, but there is more that you're not telling me. Come now, I must know everything."
"Yes, master, I'm sorry. There are more games."
"Tell me."
"Sometimes slaves are forced to fight. They are not supposed to fight to the death, but the loser usually dies of wounds once the battle is over. It is generally accepted that a slave must be very seriously injured for the fight to be considered good. Because of this, they usually match the battles unevenly when gambling, so that the slave training for Collar won't be injured. It... can be sickening. Many of the weaker slaves are starved for several days before the battle, and most have never been trained. Sometimes the weaker ones are given weapons to protect themselves while the stronger are unarmed... sometimes it is the opposite. It is... very bloody," I said, then stopped. I could still see the eyes of one such participant staring at me. I had, thankfully, never been put into a fight, but I had watched one. I had been so upset that I had hid my face in the draperies that surrounded my master's chair as the boy, only fifteen or so, had been brutally beaten by a slave of thirty and nearly three times his size. My master had thought me weak for the display and sold me soon after. I had never found what had become of that slave. I was almost certain he had died.
"Heero?" master called me, startling me from my memories.
"Yes?"
"Is there anything else?" he asked, and I could see that he would have let me go had I simply shaken my head, but I could not lie to my master. There was more that he needed to know.
"Sometimes slaves are forced to... copulate."
"You mean they must have sex?"
"Yes... and no. Slaves are regularly forced to have sex. These slaves... they rape each other. The object of the game is to top your opponent, the loser is forced to bottom. There are no weapons or toys involved, but... it can be worse than the battles. The slaves are humiliated, beaten, and raped. Many are killed by the brutal coupling, or by being shared afterward as a punishment," I paused again, but I was finally close to finished. Too bad the last part would be the hardest to verbalize. "The final part of the contest again tests the masters control and skills along with the slaves. It is very popular and one section of the Collar competition is sometimes based on this. In this contest the slave is blindfolded, gagged, and has his ears plugged. His hands are tied behind his back so he can't feel in front of him. From there his master guides him down an obstacle course very quickly. The slave who runs the course the fastest wins."
"How does the master guide the slave? They can't see or hear, so...?"
"Many master use... whips to guide their slaves. Others use sticks or blunt tipped arrows, and I've even heard of a few sharpshooters using rubber bullets, but whips are by far the most popular. The master hits the slave and tries to..."
"...Force them the way they should go. I see. Is that it, finally?"
"That's all I can think of. I'm certain there will be more to learn once you arrive, but masters are constantly coming up with new fads, so it's very hard to keep track of everything. I think I've told you enough to manage."
"Well, then, you've done such a good job that I'm going to reward you with a dip in the pool. Come on, angel!"