6
Russell
With the holidays rapidly approaching,I had wanted to do something special for Ryan. I wanted to give him something that no one had ever given him; security. But the best physical token of security that I could provide to him, would also send him for the hills. Collaring Ryan would give him the security he needed and craved. I had been certain of that. Nicks’ girl had been completely grounded by the collar he had adorned herwith.
Though Ryan needed it desperately, he still fought with himself over many things. He fought himself about being able to give me what I needed and wanted, about being good enough, and he still fought himself sexually. Ryan loved my hands on him. Nearly every time, he would practically lean into my touch. He craved it; needed it. But when that connection was broken, his fucking parents crept into his head about what was “right,” in their eyes, and what was wrong. While Ryan battled with these pieces, collaring him wouldn’t be right. Notyet.
But that hasn’t stopped me from looking for the perfect collar for him. There was a wide range of actual collars out there and something perfect existed. I had started seeing bracelets and anklets, and even rings take on the symbol of a collar. Ryan and I had something unconventional, so perhaps something outside the box would be perfect. I’d continue to think aboutit.
I knew with certainty that I wanted his collar to have an engraved tag or charm on it. Ryan reacted very well to physical and visual items for comfort. The t-shirts had been perfect for him. Even though we weren’t with one another at night, yet, the scent of me on those t-shirts gave him comfort. They were something he could hold onto, in a sense. They might make his nightmares seem not so bad, and the scent of me on the shirts might push him to the phone to callme.
As I continued looking at engravable charms, the more I fell in love with the idea of giving him the engraved tag for Christmas. It would be the tag that would eventually be attached to his collar. But the point of him having the tag before the collar was so he had something to hold onto. Hope and a physical reminder that he was loved and damn good enough. There was no doubt in my mind that I would collar him. I needed him to be ready for it,though.
I texted Nick for the contact person he used to have Sadie’s collar engraved. I needed to get that going to have it in time. When I got off the phone, I had been pleased with my progress regarding a piece of hiscollar.
But, aside from that, Ryan needed to have some fun things under the Christmas tree. After all, he’s my boy tospoil.
I had wanted to give Ryan a naughty, and kinky, toy box filled to the brim with toys for him to try. Well, for me to use on him. Over the past week, I’d done some online shopping at my favorite store and ordered a bunch of stuff. That delivery arrived yesterday, and I planned on assembling the toy boxtoday.
From the back of my SUV, I lugged the large box into the house and set it down next to the Christmas tree. The toy box was approximately four feet long and about two feet tall. It was made of superb gunmetal, and all of the corners had raised black metal fasteners. On the center of the lid, there was an engraved metal plate that matched the black metal on the corners. It read “Ryan’s” in a masculinefont.
“That’s my boy,” I said out loud and traced his name in themetal.
I opened the lid and sat down on an ottoman with all of the toys at my feet. Instead of wrapping each one, I picked up some bows and ribbons to put on them. I even bought some of the “to” and “from” tags for each toy. On the “to” lines, I wrote things like “my boy,” “mine,” “my boy’s pleasure.” I kept the tone the same. I wanted to convey perfectly clear that he wasmine.
While I worked on affixing the bows, ribbons, and tags to the packages, I found myself getting sidetracked by thoughts of him with these toys. Erotic, and depraved images filled my mind with things that I wanted to do to him in the playroom. There was an equal number of things that I wanted to do to him outside of the playroom as well. I had preached to him for many weeks now that what we had was unique and it didn’t solely breathe in the playroom. But right now, all I could think about was getting him in a position to enjoy one of these toys. I would make sure he understood that there were toys in there that he’s not ready for yet, and that’s okay. It would be a slow climb, but we would make the climbtogether.
* * *
“So,how are things going with Ryan?” Nick asked me moments after the server had taken our lunchorder.
“Things are progressing well. Slow, butwell.”
“Is he still shellshocked?”
I tilted my head to the side and pondered for a moment if ‘shell shocked’ was the best term forit.
“The relationship dynamic that I share with Ryan is new to him. He needs to process it daily and then replay the activities in his mind. Sometimes he’s fine while he’s at my place and then when I talk to him later in the evening, he’s a tangled upmess.”
“He’ll settle down,Russell.”
“I agree. He has a few online friends that I think he talks to about us. Talking is good for him because with that he will become more confident that what he wants, isokay.”
We paused our conversation when our food was served. We dug into our meals and ate in silence for a few minutes. Nick took a sip from his glass and thenspoke.
“Speaking of talking,” Nick began. I looked up at him and raised my eyebrows to indicate that I was listening and for him to continue. I closed my mouth around my fork, set it down on the plate, and leaned back in my chair to give Nick my attention. “How is he doing with actually talking? Is he still hanging on tightly to the email communications and texts rather thantalking?”
“Yes, for now. It’s a lot for him to digest. Speaking certain things and hearing them out loud are things that he struggleswith.”
“I know that is probably very frustrating for you. But, it’s a positive thing that he is open to communicating. Even if you are getting some of it via text messages and emails,” Nickadded.
“He has lucid nightmares, Nick.” I sipped on my iced tea slowly. “He’ll text me, and we’ll get on the phone in the dead of night. In most cases, he can’t talk about it. In some cases, I can hear how shaken he is by hisbreathing.”
“He trusts you and feels comfortable around you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t eventext.”
“Ryan’s never had someone who will sit in the dark with him. He’d always been alone withit.”
“I know that what you’re reading from him isn’t easy. You know I’m here for you, myfriend.”
