2016.
“How is it possible?”
“What Sir?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“Every since I put that collar on you, your body language has been completely different.”
“Different…?”
“More aloof, cocky. You’re walking like you got a big dick.”
He laughs, nearly bending over. “Sir you’re hilarious!”
“I’m serious! It’s seems to have given you a big boost of confidence.”
“Well, why shouldn’t it?” he retorts. “It’s beautiful, I look beautiful. People stare enviously at a boy with leather around his neck. It signifies everything mysterious and dangerous they could never have in their lives.They want to be me, and fuck me.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “When did you get so full of yourself?”
“I am not full of myself!” he huffs.
“You are, and I love it. My little egoist walks down the grocery store aisles like he’s modeling in Milan.”
“I do not!”
“You wore heels to the grocery store last week don’t lie!”
“Ok, maybe I did. But they looked fabulous with my outfit.”
“Ok, you’re right about that…”
“And my collar looks great with any outfit. Heels make the legs bulge, lift the ass, push out the chest. Why can’t a collar change how I carry myself?”
I smile. His logic is flawless, and very gay. “God, I love you,” I reply, cupping his cheeks and kissing him, right there on the sidewalk for everyone to see.
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Captions are fictional.