I slept most of the afternoon but not well. I kept having dreams about being chased by wild animals and torn asunder. It had been a reoccurring theme in my nightmares as long as I could remember. I dressed for play as opposed to work. I was supposed to be meeting Eric and, based on our earlier conversation, he wasn't going to let me work. I left the house at seven. It would take me less than two hours to walk downtown but I needed to eat. I took my time and poked around but still made it to the café by nine.
It was dead but it was early on a weeknight. I got a cup of coffee and waited. I was still upset about Vy but I hadn't been able to come up with anything that I could do about it. I felt guilty. I had broken my own rule about sleeping with people and Vy had gotten hurt. I should have been home. I didn't know if I could have protected her or not. Her boyfriend, Michael, was a big guy and he was mean as shit but I could have tried. There hadn't been enough blood in the apartment for me to automatically assume that she was dead so I was hoping that meant that she and the baby were both fine. I was also kind of hoping that the blood was Michael's.
My breath caught in my throat when Eric walked in. He was always imposing but he was also hot as fuck. He garnered a lot of attention and most of it was from people that wanted him. I couldn't suppress the secret little smile that I got knowing that he was mine. He was back in his leather pants and boots but he'd changed shirts and added a belt. The belt was a wide, black leather, bondage belt that rode low on his hips. His belt had a single chain that draped around his body like garland and four O-rings. The rings weren't situated on his sides, back and front. They weren't intended to secure him. They rested slightly at the front and the back of his hips. They were intended to secure something, or someone, to him. In fact, as he walked by me toward the counter, completely ignoring my presence, I noticed that he had short cane hooked to his belt. A frisson of desire, mixed with not a little fear, crept up my spine. He'd warned me that there would be no argument this night and he'd meant it.
He continued to ignore me after he got his coffee and he mounted the stairs. I watched him leisurely stroll up the stairs from my place at the table waiting for a word, a sign, something. I got nothing. I lost sight of him when he reached the balcony. I waited to see if he was coming back but he didn't. I got up and followed him. By the time I made it to the roof he was seated at a table with four people that I didn't know. They were Ellum rats but I didn't know any of their names.
"Took you long enough," he said to me and the conversation amongst the group stopped. They were all staring at me. "Sit," he commanded. I moved toward the empty chair and he stopped me. "Not there." He glanced at the floor beside his chair. "There."
I knelt on the floor beside his chair, not unaccustomed to his domineering side. He reached across the table and picked up the leather dog collar that I hadn't noticed was sitting there. Four other sets of eyes watched silently as he had me hold my hair while he fastened the collar around my neck. He adjusted it so the D-ring rested on my throat and then attached a chain to it. He hooked the other end of the chain to his belt and then patted me on the head like a good dog. He then casually lit a cigarette and proceeded to ignore me again. The rest of the table followed suit. It speaks volumes about the type of people that we hung out with. It was no big deal to them that he'd just taken my independence from me. The one thing that I prized above all else meant less than nothing to them. Maybe it was a joke to them but it wasn't to me and I knew that it wasn't to him. I wanted to be loved and cherished. I wanted to belong to him but I wanted it to be reciprocated too. I wanted it to be a partnership. In all the time that I had known him he'd never treated me like I was a thing to him. I had always been a person. I knelt there, ignored, trying to decide if he was just role playing or if this was the way it was going to be.
I was proud that he had claimed me in front of everyone. I was thrilled that he was making a statement about us being together. I just wasn't happy about what he was saying. I was awash in a myriad of conflicting emotions. I was humiliated and embarrassed. I was scared and nervous too. But I was also turned on. He was ignoring me but he would frequently reach down and touch the chain linking us together, as if he was comforting himself with its presence. I probably should have been running for the hills but I did nothing. I had lost my best friend, my only real friend, and he was the next closest thing to a friend that I had. As sorry as that sounds, it was true. I didn't get close to people. I had associates, I knew a lot of people by sight or first name, or whatever they called themselves, but I didn't, really, know anyone. And no one, really, knew me.
As lost as I was in my own thoughts, I knew, instantly, when he made to stand. The chain guaranteed that. It wasn't short, it was probably six feet long, but it was a tether that effectively transmitted his every movement to me. I stood when he did. I had no idea how long we had been sitting there but my knees ached from the hard surface and the rooftop had become crowded. He didn't speak to me as we walked down the stairs, me following closely behind him. I had a flash of fear at the realization that if he somehow tripped down the stairs, he would break my neck. It gave me the desire to reach out and grab ahold of him. I didn't.
We left the café and crossed the street. He didn't tell me where we were going and I didn't ask. I just followed along like a good dog. We went into a clothing and accessory shop where my obvious status went unremarked. It didn't surprise me as there was a mannequin on display dressed in nothing but draping chains. He made a couple of purchases and we walked up the street. I ducked my head in shame as we passed 2826. I had customers that frequented the club and there was never any telling who would be outside. He led me one block over and we went inside a candle and herb shop. He bought some things and added the package to the bag that I was already carrying. We went another block over and all the way down the street. A spike of fear went through me as he entered Tigger's Tattoos. He looked over the flash on the walls and the jewelry in the case but he didn't make any arrangements to have anything done to either of us. I wondered if I would have stopped him if he had tried to have me pierced or tattooed.
We walked the streets for some time. It wasn't as crowded as it would have been on a weekend but it wasn't dead either. I got the feeling that he was putting me on display. I couldn't decide if I was pissed about it or honored. It was probably a combination of both. We made it to the back street on which his car was parked and he took off his belt and handed it to me. He wasn't releasing me. He just didn't want the metal to tear his leather seats.
"Where are we going?" I spoke for the first time that night.
"Lobos," he replied.
I was familiar with the store. It was a shop, not too far from my place, that catered to the sexual exploits of gay men. We spent the short drive in silence. When we got there, he took the belt from me and put it back on before we entered the shop.
"How can I help you?" the attendant asked as we stepped inside.
"I'm looking for a cock ring," Eric replied.
"What kind?"
"What have you got?"
"Oh just tons of options," the guy effused.
We followed the clerk to the back wall of the store where there were plastic bins filled with the aforementioned tons of options. I tuned them out as they were talking. I wasn't worried about a cock ring. It wasn't permanent and it could be fun. I was looking around the store, a wide leather paddle on the wall had caught my attention. It had large holes running up the sides that I could image would leave some nasty blood blisters.
Suddenly, their conversation registered in my head.
"It will have to be fitted unless you already know what size he needs," the clerk said.
"It's not for him. It's for me. I want him to come for me. As long, as hard, and as often as possible," Eric explained.
Holy fuck. He was trying to delay his own orgasm. He was going to kill me. I spun around to see him holding a solid ring of steel in his hands. It was too big to be the kind that just fit around the shaft. It was the kind that went under the sac and over the top of the penis.
"What size do you need?" the clerk asked with a smirk at the expression of horror on my face.
"I have no idea." Eric held up the ring. "Bigger than this."
"Lovely," the clerk replied, giving Eric a lusty once-over.
My hackles went up. I stepped closer to Eric in a vain attempt to stake my claim. I possessively hooked my finger through an O-ring on his belt and tugged slightly. Eric glanced at me with a grin and then turned his attention back to the clerk.
"So how do we find out the size I need?" Eric asked.
"We take a measurement," the clerk smiled. "I would be happy to do that for you."
I whimpered. Honest to God. I actually whimpered.
