Gabriel stared at the collar in his hand. It was beautiful. Black with fine gold lines and a large ring in the front. It was late, and the lighting in the room was dim, yet the gold accents glinted wonderfully. The color and material matched those of his prosthetic hand perfectly. Just looking at it sent his mind reeling with ideas of what he could do with it. The thing had arrived just a couple days ago from the artist he commissioned to make it, but it was far too late. The collar wasn’t made for Gabe himself. He’d wanted to give it to someone else. Someone long gone now.
Gabe sighed deeply and put it next to him on his bed. Such a shame he’d never get to use it like he’d thought. Then again, a thought occurred to him, did it have to go to waste?
Gabe’s curiosity was piqued, now. He got up from his sitting position and turned towards his large mirror that reflected an image of his whole body back at him. He picked up the collar and held it up to his own neck, and his eyes widened slightly. That wasn’t the way he usually saw himself, and the association with submission was foreign to him, but to his surprise, he liked it. Not just that, looking at himself, topless, with the broad collar around his neck, excited him more than it should have. Furthermore, it made him aware just how long it’s been since the last time he shared his bed with someone. Gabe exhaled and stared into his own reflected eyes that shimmered back. He knew he was onto something, and he wanted to investigate just what that was. With that in mind, he closed the collar around his neck and rightened it so the ring was in the front.
Gleeful, he bounded about in his bedroom, picking out one of his many pristine white button-ups that would surely contrast his new accessory wonderfully. He left the two highest buttons of the shirt open and combined it with simple but smart black fabric pants. Black leather shoes and a beige trenchcoat completed the look. Gabe had always had expensive taste. His outfit didn’t look like it, but it was worth several thousand pounds. He loved spending money to look his best. Always immaculate. He could afford it, after all, and he wanted to show off, always.
He left his room and paid his brother in the living room a short visit.
“I’m going out,” Gabe announced.
Valerian, pausing the movie he was watching and looking up at his older brother, choked on his spit.
“Like that?” He coughed, staring at the collar around Gabe’s neck, disturbed.
“Yes, like that. Got a problem?” He challenged.
“No,” Vale was quick to say and looked back at the TV, “not at all. You do you, freedom to all. You coming back tonight?”
“We’ll see,” Gabe shrugged, “Ideally not, no.”
“Good, umm, great. Have fun, I guess?” Vale cringed and shifted around on the couch.
“Thanks,” Gabe chuckled and left the room, pulling the door shut. In the hallway now, he grabbed his keys and headed out. He wanted to visit one of his favorite establishments in downtown London, an odd fusion of bar and club in Soho, frequented by all sorts of queer folks and adventurous people. Whenever he went to the Village, there was no telling how the night would go. He’d had myriads of interesting stories to tell about it, most of them involving copious amounts of alcohol or other substances, and interesting sexual encounters, of course. Gabe had a feeling tonight would extend that list perfectly.
Down in the garage of his apartment complex, he got into his car; a bright green Porsche 911 Carrera Turbo S, and looked at himself in the rearview mirror.
What a sight, he mused, a handsome young man with a collar in a hundred grand car. He couldn’t imagine many things that were more alluring. Read more »