The boy hears the door open. The sound of a boot heel greeting the floor, growing closer and closer. The boy feels leather on the back of his neck, he feels Sir Dave’s fingers glide across the lower of his neck. The boy makes sure to hold the leather collar at an appropriate level so Sir Dave does not have to lean down, reach or strain to take it from the boy’s hand. It’s at the perfect height as a sign of respect. The boy quivers as he senses Sir Dave walking around him. The boy can hear leather shift around, his mouth salivating in desperation.
‘You will kneel, head down and present the collar I have chosen.’ Sir Dave had said before entering the dungeon, His voice echoes around the boys head as he waits in anticipation. The boy feels Sir Dave take the collar from his hands, the leather gloves making the briefest of connections with the boys hand, his soon to be owned slave cock bounces with excitement.
‘Excited boy?’ Sir Dave says in His dominant, caring and assertive voice.
‘Y-yes Sir.’ The boy replies.
‘You know you won’t be touching that pathetic cock don’t you.’ Sir Dave says as He walks behind the boy. The boy knows it’s not a question because the sound of His boots, a thick thud every-time they touch the floor, acting as the full stop to any sentence.
The boy feels the leather collar being placed around his neck, this is it he thinks; he’s about to lose his free will, he’s about to become an object. The leather collar is tightened, fastened and then he hears a lock with a gentle click. He quivers once more. Sir Dave walks around the boy once more, He moves the collar slightly and then the boy hears another clip followed by a tug. The leash has been attached.
‘Looks good on you boy. You suit the black and red leather, maybe in time I’ll let you wear a leather jock to match. But for now, I want you to feel my collar around your neck.’ Sir Dave says as He stands in front of the boy who continues to look down, now staring at the perfect black boots Sir Dave has chosen. The boy sees his slave cock bouncing and wet.
‘Ignore it boy.’ Sir Dave says as He sits down in His throne in front of the boy. ‘Look up boy,’ Sir Dave orders. The boy looks up and sees Sir Dave in all His glory, His leathers perfectly aligned, everything in its right place, His muir cap shielding His eyes from the boy, and yet the boy feels His gaze. The boys heart beats faster in response, the sense that whilst Sir Dave is looking at him, degrading him, making him whole. His leather tie the perfect length. His crotch a focal point for the boy at his kneeling height. His tight black leather gloves, one idling and resting on the arm of the chair, the other grasped around the leash of the boy’s collar. This being the reminder to the boy that Sir Dave is speaking and he must now focus. ‘Tell me boy, how does that collar feel? What does it mean to you?’
‘It’s restrictive Sir. It feels tight, but soft. It feels correct, as if I’ve been missing something there all my life.’
‘Good boy. What else?’ Sir Dave demands.
‘I won’t lie Sir, it feels slightly strange but comforting…it’s hard to describe beyond saying I feel safe and secure.’
‘Good boy, that’s because you’re now owned. The collar is your first step in letting go, handing over control to a Superior, it’s not a weakness, it’s a strength. You’re strong enough to know that the black and red collar is what you need, that it gives you purpose and through that I guide you.’
‘Thank you Sir.’ The boy replies.
‘Now, crawl forwards and show my boots the respect they deserve.’