“The physical feeling of the collar will settle him down. When he’s nervous or in doubt, he can feel it. He can feel that you’re with him and that he really isn’t alone.” Nick reached for his glass of iced tea and took a long sip from the glass. “How is he doing with the abandonment feelings? Have you seen a decrease?”
I brought my eyes up from the photos and looked at Nick. I shook my head but elaborated.
“The collar will calm those abandonment feelings that haunt him. I just need to find the right one.”
Nick continued to scroll through my pictures with the ideas that I had found so far. The one that I had just about settled on for Ryan was the very last image. I wasn’t going to say anything to Nick though because I wanted to see what his honest, gut reaction would be to it. Would he see how perfect it was for Ryan, or would he not pick up on it and just scroll by it?
“Ah-ha!” Nick pointed to the last image; the one I had just now settled on just by his reaction. “This, I like, Russell. This is very much Ryan’s style.”
I stared with excited, certain eyes at what would be Ryan’s collar. It was a gray, tightly braided leather that would wrap around his wrist twice. The ends were metal-tipped, and one end would screw into the other end to secure it to his body.
“Ryan isn’t a flashy jewelry kind of guy. Lots of guys wear a similarly styled bracelet, or even necklace. This won’t stick out as anything more than a stylish, modern, bracelet. But it will mean so much to us,” I beamed, knowing that this was the one.
“Many Dom and sub couples have alternate items that equally holds the meaning of a collar to them. Rings, bracelets, even tattoos. This bracelet is perfect for him, Russell.”
“I’m going to contact the maker and get it ordered for him,” I confirmed.
“Congratulations, my friend. He will love it, and if you don’t mind my saying so, it’s about fucking time,” Nick jabbed.
Both of us smiled and I set the phone to the side of the table for the rest of our lunch. When Nick and I finished lunch, I headed home. I felt confident that collaring Ryan was the right thing to do, and I was certain that I had found the perfect one for him.
As soon as I got home, I logged onto my laptop and found the company contact info. I dialed their number and waited until someone answered.
“Yes, good afternoon,” I greeted the woman on the other end of the phone when she answered. “I’m interested in ordering one of your braided leather bracelets, and I needed to see if there were options for the metal ends.”
I listened patiently as she explained that silver was the standard metal that came on the particular model that I wanted to get for Ryan.
“I know we have a yellow gold for sure, but not a white gold, sir. If you don’t mind holding on the line, I will go check in the back with the designer and see what other options we have,” she offered.
“Yes, please. I will hold.”
While I waited, I opened up my email and quickly was able to delete what looked like advertisements and junk. One caught my eye. Claire was the sender. I narrowed my eyes and had been staring at the subject line that read, “Hello stranger,” when the woman came back on the line.
“Thank you for holding. So, as it turns out, the designer does have white gold, along with yellow gold. She also wanted me to let you know that she has tungsten, and if you wanted something really strong, she has iron.”
Iron.
I quickly thought about how perfect this would be.
“Is the iron it’s natural black color, or treated?” I questioned.
“It’s black in color,” she replied.
“Yes, the iron then,” I confirmed.
As soon as I finished placing the order for the bracelet that would represent Ryan’s collar, my eyes focused on the email from Claire. Curiosity pulled at me and I opened the email.
Dear Russell,
You are a difficult man to get hold of. I’m back in town and connected with some mutual friends back at the club. None of them would give me your contact information aside from an email address. I’d love to see you and talk. Perhaps we can meet for lunch.
The email included her contact phone number. The Las Vegas area code hadn’t escaped my notice. I wondered how long she had been in town. I felt blessed that my friends from the club knew not to provide my address or phone number.
It had been decades since I had seen her. While I had recognized her eyes, her demeanor was not something I remember from her. In some ways, Ryan reminded me a little of her in that both of them had been needy and looking for something.
Meeting Claire for lunch wouldn’t cause any harm. I would be upfront with Ryan and let him know. Given his increased insecurities right now, I certainly wasn’t going to meet her without his knowledge. But if he was truly bothered, I wouldn’t go.
In the past few days, I have spoken with Ryan about Claire. He is aware that I topped her occasionally and that she and I became friends. He also knows that Claire and I did have a sexual relationship but strictly during sessions at the club.
