Toy Box: Collars Page 2

  My ass throbbed from the impact and Lucian bit my shoulder approvingly before taking control, setting a pounding pace that sent fire shooting into my reawakening cock. I sucked on Lucian’s lip as he thrust and he turned it into a brutal kiss, his teeth crushing my lips. I whimpered, rubbing myself against his belly and countering his thrusts as best I could.

  The fullness was already getting to me, my ass too sensitive from the plug to last long. I bounced harder, wanting Lucian with me when I came again. He licked at my mouth, his body pounding smoothly, relentlessly into mine.

  I mewled helplessly at the onslaught, my entire body tightening all over again. I was streaming against Lucian’s stomach, adding to the sticky mess between us and, needing that extra touch, I wrapped a hand around myself and pumped, catching his rhythm and moaning my relief into Lucian’s mouth.

  His hand covered mine and he made me squeeze, harder than I ever would, and I spasmed just as he hit that sweet spot deep inside me. The world blurred at the edges and from a distance, I could hear Lucian’s purring encouragement.

  “Come again for me, Hohru, scream for me!”

  He thrust harder, drilling that special gland with perfect precision.

  My breath hitched.

  My mouth dropped open.

  Lucian raised his head and squeezed my cock at the very moment.

  I didn’t scream. I shrieked as I came and felt Lucian’s pace stutter inside me before he exploded as well, his growl more animal than human as he rode to his finish, following on the very tail end of mine. We drained together, each shouting the other’s name.

  My body wobbled forward and I dropped my head on his shoulder, panting, my heart chaotic in my chest. His chest rose and fell just as fast, moving me with each hard breath. His arms slipped around me and I nuzzled his shoulder drowsily, so weary I could have slept right there, with him soft inside me and my stomach sticking to his with drying come.

  But within a minute passing, he lifted me off of him, startling a small mew of protest out of me when he slipped free. Come trickled from me, but he still held me close as he came to his feet and carried me over to the stand. He set me down and, with a smile, lifted the glass. The smell of new leather immediately rushed through me and I held my breath in helpless wonder.

  “Oh, Lucian,” I said softly, instinctively knowing his name, not his title, was the right one to say and Lucian held his smile while he set the glass cover down and picked up the collar.

  “Take off your old collar, Hohru.”

  My fingers fumbled only slightly as I pushed my hair aside and unbuckled the old collar. My throat felt naked the minute I was free of it, the skin immediately chilling. I handed it over wordlessly and Lucian tossed it to the floor.

  I could feel my eyes widen, watching him move closer to me. “That collar,” he said quietly. “Was for a pet, one I cared for more deeply than I’ve ever cared for anyone or anything in my life.”

  I went still as he went around me, pushing my hair so it fell over my shoulder and setting the cool collar around my throat. The sound of him buckling it made me swallow against tears. My fingers caressed the words, rubbed the new, stiff leather. When it was settled, he didn’t move away immediately. Instead, he put his mouth my ear and whispered sweetly in my ear.

  “This collar is for the man I share my life with, who I’m committed to, whose body I crave beside mine at all times.” He pressed a soft lingering kiss beneath my ear. “This is for the man I love.”

  I couldn’t take it; I spun around and threw my arms around him, crying like a fool. A happy, love struck fool. “Oh, Lucian,” I sobbed, squeezing him tightly. “I love you so much.”

  He hugged me just as closely, then leaned away to tip my head up, running a finger through the tears. “You’re more than deserving of this collar, Hohru.” Lucian lowered his head and his tongue caught the tears. “And I’m proud to have you with me.”

  My entire body flooded with joy and I turned my head to catch his mouth. For that kiss, we weren’t Master and slave. We were lovers, sharing a perfect moment that I would keep locked away in my memories for the rest of my life.

  Lucian lifted his head and his fingers caressed my cheek before they tightened. I shivered as Lucian, my lover, settled into Lucian, my Master. “Now, you still need to be punished.”

  I sucked in a breath, my cock already hard and throbbing. “Yes, Master.”

  “Hands and knees.”

  I dropped immediately and while I listened to him move behind me, I slipped a finger up until I could feel my collar. I traced over the words and smiled to myself.

  He wasn’t big on the words, I thought, gasping when his hand came down with bruising force against my ass. But when he does say it, he knows how to say it just right.

  Stay

  By Allison Payne

  Sometimes on my day off, I like to go to the pet supply store. I walk past the food, and the cages and the beds, heading directly for the collars and leashes. They are all lined up, hanging in straight, even rows. The ones made from nylon are displayed first. They come in so many colors, all of them glossy and smooth. Those aren’t the ones I’m interested in, though. The ones that interest me are the chain ones. Their silver links fit together perfectly, one after another, row after row. I could stand in front of those chains for hours if the store clerks would let me, if they didn’t get suspicious and try to ‘help’ me. I run my hand over the chain collars, letting them slide between my fingers. I tug at them gently, testing their strength.

  “May I help you?” A teenage girl in a crisp blue vest is smiling at me brightly. She startled me; I didn’t see her coming. We look to be about the same age and when I glance over at her I can tell she likes me. Fuck. It’s too early. They usually leave you alone for a while if it looks like you’re checking things out. Her schoolgirl crush is ruining this for me.

  “No, I’m all right. Just looking.” I let a smooth choke chain run through my fingers.

  “Oh, okay. Well, what kind of a dog do you have? Because these come in a lot of different sizes. It can be kind of hard to tell what will fit just by looking at them.” I don’t have a dog.

  “Umm...” There’s a picture with a lot of different kinds of dogs on the display behind her. “A Rotweiler, I have a Rotweiler.”

  “Oh, I love Rotweilers! What’s his name?” God, go away.

  “George.” George? No one names their dog George. Jesus.

  “That is so cute. I’d love to meet him. You should bring him in. They let you bring your pets in here you know.”

  “Uh yeah, maybe... so um, which one do you think would fit him? He’s got a really big neck.”

  “Well, let’s see.” She starts shifting through the chains, holding them up to check their length. When she gets to the second biggest one, she stops. “I’d get this one just to be safe. It’s okay if it’s a little too big, but if it’s too small, it won’t fit over his head.” She holds the collar up by the two, large, metal loops on either side, stretching it out.

  “Hmm, well, he’s got a really big head. You think this one will fit?” I reach out and take the collar from her hands. It is heavy and the silver metal shines brightly under the florescent lights. The links are so much bigger than the ones on the smaller sizes. My stomach tickles a little bit.

  “Let’s try it out.” She lowers her voice as though we’re sharing a secret and she smiles flirtatiously. Holding on to one loop, she guides the chain through it easily, creating a slip knot. She pulls it all the way down and holds up the collar she has created. It looks pretty big. Lifting it up, she lowers the chain over my head, pressing down on my ears when the collar gets caught on them. The chain drops heavily around my neck and I can feel its weight against my collarbone. “And when you want to tighten it you just do this.” She pulls on one end of the chain; the collar gets tighter. I’m glad that I have really baggy jeans on. “If it fits you, it will definitely fit him.” She smiles, loosening the collar. I close my eyes as she lifts
the chain back over my head, biting my tongue to keep myself from asking her to leave it on. She’s standing close and I can smell her flowery, drugstore perfume. Why do girls wear that stuff? It smells so fake.

  “All right, thanks for helping me. I think this is a good one, I’ll get it.”

  “Oh, okay, good.” She leads me to the register where she rings me up. When I open my wallet, my old school ID falls out on to the counter. She picks it up and inspects it. “Chris Owens, huh? Hey, we almost have the same birthday, just two months apart. How old are you? Almost twenty?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sixteen, can’t wait to be eighteen.”

  “Well, thanks again. You were real helpful.” She was. I’ve come here a million times and never been brave enough to buy anything.

  “Sure. Come back and bring George okay?”

  “Yeah, okay, maybe.”

  The minute I get outside I take the chain out and throw the bag away. It’s a long walk back to the trailer, but I’ve got a lot to think about so I don’t mind. I wonder what Daddy will say when I show him what I bought. We’ve been together for almost two years now, but we’ve never done this before. I’ve never even told him that I think about it. When I get home, he’s standing outside by the truck, talking to Lawrence.

  “Hey, Sam. Hey, Lawrence.” I only call him ‘Daddy’ when no one else is around. I wish Lawrence would leave. I hate it when he comes over.

  “Hey, Chris.” Lawrence leers at me. It makes me uncomfortable when he looks at me like that. I wish Daddy would make him stop.

  “I’m gonna go in and wash up, start dinner.” I keep my eyes focused on Daddy.

  “All right, Chris. We’re just finishing up some business out here.”

  The trailer is dim when I walk in. It takes a couple of minutes for my eyes to adjust to the light if it’s bright outside. We keep the lights off most of the time, keeps the bill down. The chain is heavy in my pocket and I start to think about how I’m going to bring it up to Daddy as I wash my hands and open up the chicken pot pies that we had in the freezer. Should I explain it or should I just come out of my room wearing it? I’m not sure that he’ll understand what I want, if I don’t say something. Should I have gotten a leash, too? No, we’ve got rope. A leash would have been too expensive. After the pot pies are in the oven and the trash has been thrown away, I head to my room so that I can get ready. I have the bedroom to myself; Daddy sleeps on the couch. It’s one of his rules. My mattress is on the floor and the sheets are all rumpled up. I never make it in the morning unless he tells me to.

  Last August, I was making it every morning for three whole weeks. Daddy had been in one of his moods and he’d given me a long lecture about how if I was in the army they would never tolerate sloppiness like that. He spent half an hour showing me how to make a bed ‘properly.’ I wondered how he knew all the regulation terms as he had never been in the army himself. When he’d tried to enlist at eighteen they had turned him down due to a medical condition. He never told me exactly what the reason was, but it had happened fifteen years ago and he still hasn’t really gotten over it.

  There is a big mirror propped up against the wall across from my bed. I pull off my shirt and sit down on my mattress, facing my reflection. I like how I look. I’m thinner than I’ve ever been and I can see the outline of my ribs, even when I’m sitting down, which is pretty good. I mess up my hair a little bit, pushing it over my eyes. It looks cool, glossy and black against my pale skin. It’s getting kind of long though; I should probably get it cut soon.

  Last time I needed it cut, Daddy wanted to do it so I let him, which was a big mistake. I had to wear my cap everywhere for at least two weeks. I think he realized how goofy it had come out because he never once told me to take my cap off, not even when we fooled around. He hasn’t said anything about another haircut either, so I don’t think he’ll mind if I go down to the barbershop. I’ll just have to make sure that they don’t take too much off. He likes it kind of long on top, gives him something to pull.

  I take the chain out of my pocket; it feels nice and heavy, just like it did in the store. It takes me a minute to figure out how to make it into a collar like the girl did, but I finally get it after a few tries. Dropping it over my head, I check myself out in the mirror. It looks so good, just like I imagined, but maybe a little bigger. Taking one end, I pull gently, tightening it around my neck. The cool metal slides over my skin and I get goose bumps from the sensation. Pulling it back and forth, I test out different tensions and positions, turning it so that the part I pull on hangs straight down my chest and then rotating it so that it hangs down my back. I lift the whole collar up a little bit so that it will rest on my Adam’s Apple, the feeling makes me sort of uncomfortable. I tighten it anyway; I want to know what it’s like. I start to feel like I’m choking, even though I know I’m not. My guts get all tense, so I loosen up the chain and let it fall back into its resting place on my collarbone. This is going to be trickier than I thought. I don’t think I want him to choke me. Should I tell him outright or just wait and see what happens? I’m not sure.

  “Hey, Chris?” There’s a knock at my door, “How much longer for the pies?”

  “Um... just a few more minutes, I think. I’ll be out in a sec, okay?”

  “All right.” He sounds confused. I don’t close the door like that very often.

  I leave the chain on and pull my t-shirt over it. You might not even notice it if you aren’t paying close attention. The smell of the pot pies is coming up underneath the door. I’m pretty hungry; I wish we didn’t have to wait twenty minutes for them to cool down. He’s sitting on the couch reading the paper when I come out.

  “Lawrence gone?”

  “Yeah, he just came over to pick some stuff up.” He smiles; he knows I don’t like Lawrence even though I make sure to always be polite when I see him. I walk over to the oven, it’s already been turned off. The pies are still in there, so I take them out carefully, trying not to burn myself, and put them up on top to cool. “Think they’re ready?” he calls over from the couch.

  “Pretty sure, just need to cool off some.” I hope the insides aren’t still frozen; he turned the oven off earlier than I would have. There’s room for me on the couch so I make my way over and sit down, picking up the comics.

  “What’s that?” He reaches over and touches the collar through my shirt.

  “Um, nothing. Just something I thought I’d try. I don’t know.” He reaches over and pulls the chain out so that it rests on top of my shirt.

  “Is this a dog collar?” He’s rubbing the links between his fingers.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Why are you wearing a dog collar?” Fuck, this isn’t how it was supposed to go.

  “I-I don’t know, I just wanted to, I wanted you to...” I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. Help me.

  “I like it, it looks good on you.” His voice is low, calm. He’s touching the collar with both hands now, running his fingers along the inside, pulling it away from the front of my neck. I drop my head down and press my mouth against his knuckles, closing my eyes, breathing hard. He reaches up and strokes my hair which calms me down some. “Think those pies are ready?” I nod even though I’m pretty sure they are still too hot. “All right, I’ll go get them.” He goes over to the kitchen and I lean my head against the couch, not very hungry anymore.

  We eat in silence. I burned my tongue a little on the crust but when I got to the middle the filling was lukewarm. “Guess they could have used a few more minutes,” he says, poking around at his pie with his fork.

  “Maybe, but it’s good anyhow.” I eat about a quarter of mine and then take it to the kitchen to put back into the refrigerator. He eats all of his. After dinner we watch some TV. He’s got his arm around me and he fingers the chain absentmindedly, which feels nice. When the show is over I kiss him goodnight and head to my bedroom. I don’t feel like messing around tonight. Sometimes it’s like that; he does
n’t seem to mind as long as he gets what he wants when he asks for it.

  Lying in bed, I pull at the collar with one hand while I stroke my chest with the other.

  Why are you wearing it?

  I don’t know.

  Yes, you do.

  Why are you wearing it?

  I want to belong to you.

  You do belong to me.

  Why are you wearing it?

  I want proof, this is the proof.

  ***

  Daddy is showered and dressed when I walk into the living room the next morning. “Are we going somewhere?” I look around for clues; this isn’t how we usually start our day.

  “Yup, go get ready.” He’s in a good mood; I love seeing him like this.

  “Where are we going?” Maybe he wants to go out for breakfast. He got paid last week; we probably have some money left over.

  “You’ll see, just get dressed.” He picks up the paper and starts flipping through it.