Chapter 9: A Serious Torc

REPORTING BACK

"Svetlana Nikitechna," Neena writes in her latest report on the progress of her charge, "I am pleased once again to report that Vyera is making good progress with her language studies. For example, she is just as careful with reading and writing as an attentive child might be. I have already mentioned that she has absorbed the 'working day' words and phrases that she needs and the instructions and commands she must understand – actually she has achieved much more than that. She goes to great trouble to appear studious. Of course she is intelligent and we should expect her to enjoy learning but I think part of her will see it as a diversion - an escape - from accepting the realities of her existence here. She continues to exhibit some stubbornness about relinquishing her earlier life and I am impressed with her resilience. For example, when I inspected her notebook I discovered that she had been translating the names of her old friends and family into Cyrillic. I am sure you will agree this is clever but not helpful to us. I will not allow her to retain these connections with her former life. In future I will see to it that she practices with our names but I thought you should know about the ingenuity of our house guest! She does not know it yet but she has earned some more cane strokes for that little disobedience!"

Neena smiles as she puts the finishing touches to the note for Sveta, and as she considers her plans for the day. The process of undermining Vyera's resistance, those many little things that emphasise the differences between Vyera and her Owners and Superiors - some that Vyera may not even notice - will continue but today there is an important event for Vyera, and when she thinks about it, Neena smiles in anticipation once more.

Neena has realised that Vyera can be rather intuitive about the tasks she is about to face. She seems to know when things will get difficult or painful. That provides Neena with a point of leverage because Vyera can be kept in a state of constant fearful anticipation, but it also means that if there is a shock or surprise in store for Vyera, the event, whatever it is, needs to be carefully planned.

COFFEE BREAK

Neena and I have come to the end of another language lesson. I can read words in Cyrillic quite easily and fluently now, even if I do not understand what they mean. It's not so difficult with practice. I was practicing by transcribing the names of my friends into Cyrillic and Joe and Mummy and Daddy. It was a way to keep up some connection with them, so their memory will remain fresh and clear even if there was some subterfuge and duisguise involved. But then Neena read my note book and discovered what I was up to. Of course, they are all behind me now. She tells me so. They are figures in the past. That is what she said. Now I have to practice with the names that Neena gives me. Neena, Lev, Anatoly, Sveta, Alana and so on.

Who are they all? Neena is all too real and I think Lev was the man who brought me in from the garden but the others ... real or invented? I suppose time will tell.

She is giving me a library of phrases to use, but what mundane phrases! Language courses usually tell you how to order coffee and get a taxi and go to the cinema - things like that but I am being taught all the phrases which would be useful to a slave: 'come here, go there, go straight on, turn left, turn right, wash the floor, bathroom, kitchen, toilet' and so on. It seems as if they intend to trap me in another language but give me (at first) a very limited palate of words. However, I know psychology and I know that young children learn their own language just by listening. That's how I learned English and Swedish (my mother's language). If I can do it once, I can do it again. I will not let them confine me so easily!

"Rabinya, Vyerka!" It's Neena's voice. I look up. Immediately I'm disappointed in myself. How could I have answered so easily to the name and status they have given me?

"Coffee?" she asks.

Now I am on alert. This is unexpected. It's a surprise. Why are they giving me coffee? I'm curious; well curious, astonished, and on my guard, all at once. But I don't refuse it.

"Spaseeba Gaspazha Neena, Thank you Mistress Neena," I say. Should I be using what I have learned, to avoid trouble? Or am I falling more under their spell, with every little thing I accept?

She smiles, "Pazh'alsta."

Back at Inward Bound, Ylena told me that meant 'you're welcome'. I smile. It's an admission that I understand the word. Is that another defeat? Have I let them over-run another of my defences. But do I really have any defences to retreat behind? Any place of safety left to me?

She returns with two coffees on a tray and a box. Her coffee is in the tall glass, black with cream floating on top. Just as it was when I came in from the freezing garden.My coffee is in the plastic mug, just black, once again. Could that be a toe-hold for me? Stimulation from the caffeine to help me hold my ground?

She puts the black box on the table between us. It could almost be a jewellery box. To me it looks ominous. Threatening. I am expecting something dreadful to crawl out from it. She drinks and watches. I drink and watch the box. She is relaxed. Confident. I am nervous. Anxious. More and more ill at ease as the minutes pass...

The chair is hard on my bare bum. I shift and fidget. She calmly waits...

She's taking her time; letting me stew. She can see that I sense there is something difficult on the horizon. Just a few moments away.

At last Neena finishes her coffee. I sigh with relief. Now we will move on, now I can come to grips with the next challenge, whatever it is. She sets her cup carefully to one side and motions me to do likewise. I do as she indicates. She gives me these small courtesies but they all feel like defeats, steps down a road that I do not wish to travel. The trouble is, whichever way I turn, it's always the same road.

Neena looks me directly in the eyes and leans forward. She opens the box between us. Just for a split second, it does have the look of jewellery: an ancient celtic torc (1) but an instant later I know what it really is: a slave collar; my slave collar. It is polished, shining, bare metal. There's a ring in the middle, a lock at the rear. Neena looks at me and then glances down at the collar. She smiles but the only way I can respond is with tears in my eyes. This is symbolic, a 'right of passage' – if slaves have one right it is the right to know that they are slaves. I knew that something like this would come in time but I'd hoped it would be later.

The collar they have brought for me is horrible. And attractive. And almost stylish. All at once. I wore one all the time I was at IWB and I suppose I was proud to wear it. It showed I was in fellowship with all the other girls. Now I just feel sick, deep inside. One day I will have to rid myself of this collar but it's another hurdle to climb if I am ever to escape from these people. It's stupid. I'm talking about ridding myself of it even though I don't have it on yet. It's obvious that I'm going to have it put it on me. It must be obvious to Neena too.

"Vyerka! Your collar. See? It has your name and number engraved on it - just here." Neena's tone is matter of fact. She smiles.

She picks up the hateful collar and shows it to me, points out to me the neat script on one side: my entry in their asset register: K AH 101109 RZ my name: вера and my slave registration number: 836-906-368 (2)

"Rabiyna: I need to show you ... this ... and this ... and this ... and this." Neena points in turn to two areas on the inside of the collar the one opposite the other which are a dull gold colour and then she points to two small round nipples towards the front but once again on opposite sides. I don't really understand what it is she is showing me. I see it all but I don't understand what it means. I do understand though, that these features are going to increase their hold on me in some way.

"And last of all you must see - this."

The collar is about 40 mm deep and 5 mm thick.

"Put the collar on now! It would be best if you placed the collar around your own neck."

I can't bring myself to even touch it. It seems such a malignant thing, a dark smooth shining symbol of what has happened to me. As for the parts of the collar that Neena has pointed out - I'm just frightened of them, even though I don't know what they are. Somehow this collar does more than show I am their slave. I recoil in my chair away from her – and then I realise there is someone else in the cell. He must have slipped in when Neena was talking to me. He is standing behind me.