collar

All posts tagged collar

On Friday Hawk and my own hormones convinced me to lock my collar back on, and over the weekend I was at a few events at which it was out in the open. I have to say, it’s been a really mixed bag and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Collar and harness

This is my collar; this is my harness; this is me ready for the leather party.

On one hand, I get that symbols are useful for shorthand communication; cf. the hanky code, among other things. But what really infuriates me about the kink community is this sense I get so often that there’s one right way to participate in a kink, and if you don’t follow the rules you aren’t welcome. I would have thought fellow kinksters, if anybody, would have understood that enforcing models onto other people’s sexuality isn’t a good way of going about things. I know it’s not a universal attitude, but even when I talk to fellow kinksters about it who tend to agree, it is still often only in a “I’m not racist but” kind of way.

This weekend it came up most directly in the form of assumptions about what my wearing a collar signified. One guy addressed Hawk as if I wasn’t even there. One laughed at me for “not knowing what it meant” when telling me that other guys weren’t allowed to flirt with me with it on. Another asked “so are you his boy now?” as if that was a well defined relationship model. I don’t really fault any of these guys for it—like I said I get that there is symbolism attached to it—but that symbolism seemed to conjure up all these rules about what I should and shouldn’t be doing with it for people. With my friends I know I explain things and correct their expectations, but some are really stubborn about it. It is not a surprise to me as this is by no means the first time I have faced this (I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been called “a bad sub” or told that “you must not really be into [any given kink] then” for not conforming to exactly how a guy thought things should go), but frankly I still just don’t get it.

Why am I wearing this collar? I wear it because I think it’s hot to be bound to a sign of submission to Hawk. It doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to speak to other guys. It doesn’t mean I’m exclusively “his boy”, whatever that is supposed to mean. It doesn’t mean that I’m not my own person. It doesn’t really define anything about my relationship to Hawk or anybody else other than the fact that we both thought it would be hot for me to wear it. I really wish that was the only assumption people would come up to me with.

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Sucking cock

Happily the light was much better for this photo.

I don’t know whether it was because I was still on a high from swallowing that guy’s load yesterday, a rush of endorphins from the start of the long weekend, or both, but tonight I felt like I was in overdrive. I don’t think I’ll go into too many details this time, but suffice to say that by about 9 pm I had sucked off a hot thick latino guy in a park by my place despite the freezing temperatures (I tried to take a pic but there was not enough light), and by 11 pm I had a new video to post on xtube.

Thinking back on it I wonder if I was giving in a bit too much, and even now maybe admitting a bit too much by putting it on the record here, but having still not cum in weeks it just felt right. That’s a theme that continued a bit later when I started texting with Hawk, and he started saying things like this:

I think about forcing a collar on you all the time.

I want you to resign yourself to wearing a collar everywhere.

Last time he had locked the collar on me, we had negotiated that I would only wear it for a week, using the excuse that I had a date with a guy the next weekend and didn’t want to scare him off. When he unlocked it a week later, he told me to take the collar and the lock home, but kept the key for himself. I think he like the thought that if I caved and locked it back on, I wouldn’t have any escape without his permission. With that context, he sent this:

I feel like it’s time to lock it on you and keep it on, and if you want to talk logistics and fears we do that while it’s locked on you.

Throughout our whole conversation I was incredibly turned on, knowing he was right, knowing I wanted to feel the collar locked on and feel the significance of being his pup without any negotiations about end dates or when I might need the collar off for whatever lame excuse my nerves might want to come up with. Immediately after that last text, he said:

We can continue this tomorrow, I think it’s time for bed.

But I had to text back

Too late.

and told him to check twitter, where I had posted the evidence of what I had done by way of my first Vine. Turn on the audio and listen to that click.

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I gave the TRADE party a second go last night and had a pretty good night, much better than the first time.

I didn’t think I was in the mood for exhibitionism, and wanted to save my leather gear for next week’s BlacKKnight party anyway, so didn’t put much thought into my wardrobe. Just jeans and a tank, but of course I couldn’t go again without locking a collar on.

cheating collar

Hawk will notice that I cheated here.

Once there, the crowd looked like any other night at any other bar. I’ve heard grumbling that Woody’s is becoming a straight bar and Black Eagle is becoming the default men’s bar now, losing it’s real leather/kink bar status, and that seemed evident tonight. Or maybe a broader appeal is just the consequence of running a popular event? So I was happy that I hadn’t committed to wearing anything risque.

I quickly discovered that there were different atmospheres to be found. The front area was very run-of-the-mill gays in mostly casual dress. Upstairs was darker and quieter with a stand-around-and-drink vibe. Even the backroom was completely dead; full of people, but nothing happening worth of the name. The real fun, I found, was in the back part of the main floor. This is where the music was and where the younger crowd was having fun. Walking back there I immediately felt that this is where I would have to start taking some clothes off.

I gave into that overwhelming desire to strip, and soon I was in nothing but tight red trunks and that collar. Even knowing that there would people I knew around who would see, I had to give in. Five weeks of sexual energy will make a guy do things like that. I wasn’t the only one either; there wasn’t a lot of action, but there were definitely blow jobs happening here and there and I did get to watch one hot guy in a harness getting fucked.

When they announced last call I was about ready to leave, but the friends I had come with found me and convinced me to go back for just a few more minutes. I had been on edge most of the evening, and when I noticed we had ended up beside the party’s host Deviant Otter naked and getting blown by some guy, my inhibitions were low enough that I pulled my trunks down and started jacking off watching it right there in the middle of the dance floor.

The guy blowing Otter moved to start rimming him, at which point Otter took note of me and reached off to start jerking me off. I knew it would be way too easy for me to blow my load all over him, and even though it would be a memorable way to spend my February cumshot, I thought I didn’t want to waste the opportunity and got down on my knees instead. I think my friends were still nearby, and who knew who else might have been in the crowd to see at that point, but fuck it, it’s TRADE, and I wanted to suck that guy off in front of everybody.

I didn’t stay at it long, but long enough to be happy that I had done it. So, like I said, it was a pretty good night.

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Tonight marks the end of our one-week experiment of me living with a collar locked on by Hawk. It was definitely an interesting experience.

Despite the fact that I mostly wore it under T-shirts or collared shirts, such that most people would only think it was a chain necklace if they noticed it at all, it was still kind of exhilarating knowing I was wearing a symbol of my submission to Hawk in public. He heavily encouraged wearing it with the lock showing so that some might pick up on the fact that it was more than just a fashion accessory. There was certainly no hiding it in the showers at the gym.

Collared at the gym

Collared at the gym, lock out and proud

Tonight I met up with Hawk so that I could be unlocked. I know he wanted to keep me collared, probably indefinitely. Immediately after entering his apartment he put me in mitts, locked on, and started stripping me. There were many times that I came close to cumming over the next hour or two, but there’s still at least another week before February. Hawk had no such restrictions, though, and added a few photos to his camera roll.

Before parting, he dressed me (still with mitts locked on so I was pretty helpless), bundled me up to go outside (which gave us the silly sense that I was a kid in kindergarten again), and took me out for a walk. He didn’t go as far as using a leash, but that may come in time.

Now since its winter, I’m sure 99% of people thought nothing of the mitts I was wearing. I doubt anybody noticed the locks. But, it’s an interesting thing to walk that line between public and private, to experiment with exposure and kinks like that. I have no interest in making other people unwilling participants in my fantasies. I don’t think wearing a chain around my neck crosses that line, but maybe a leash would have, and while there are some obvious things that would cross it, it’s still hard to see where that line is. At least I know there will always be plenty of contexts (i.e. where I know the audience is more appreciative) where boundaries can be pushed a lot further. And everywhere else it’ll just test Hawk’s creativity to see how he can make me keep feeling like his good pup.

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At about 5 pm today I got this text message from Hawk:

Hey pup, it’s time to lock a collar on you. Long overdue.

Immediately my heart jumped and I started thinking of all these reasons why I couldn’t, who might see it, what people would think, blah blah blah… but very quickly I knew that he was right. It was time.

Within about 2 hours of receiving that text, I was on my way to meet him and I heard the click of the lock with almost no discussion.

We’ve talked about doing this before, and with several variations. One was that I should have one of either the chastity cage or the collar locked on at all times—if I wanted one off for whatever reason, the other would have to go on—or maybe the collar would have to stay on until I trained myself to stay in chastity for at least a week. This first time, though, we’re keeping it simple. It will stay on for a week. Period. No excuses. Collared.

Collared and naked

One week starts now.

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Last night I went to the TRADE party at Black Eagle for the first time. The basic premise, as we were warned by the bouncer before going in and told again by the host, abeardedboy, as we entered, was simply that everybody should be free to do what they want where they want without worrying what anybody else around thinks. Basically that means no dress code and have sex wherever you damn well please. (Interestingly, despite that extra freedom the dark and hidden backroom was full to capacity for a good portion of the night and very little sex was witnessed elsewhere.)

I wore a leather harness under a black t-shirt, and a nasty pig jock (with my chastity cage) under jeans. On the walk there I wasn’t sure how much I was going to leave on or take off once I got to the bar. When I got there I glanced around quickly to gauge the general level of dress and decided to lose the T but kept the jeans on. At the time, that’s what I was comfortable with, but later, especially as I saw others dressed in less, I started to wish that I had dropped the jeans too. Of course if Hawk had been there there wouldn’t have been a question about it, but on my own I’m much more self-conscious. (To be honest, I still would be self-conscious with Hawk there, especially when I ran into other people I know outside of a sexual context, but he wouldn’t have let me acquiesce to that feeling.)

At one point, I watched a group of hot guys enjoying each other’s company in one corner of the room by the DJ and go-go boys. By that of course I mean dicks out, hard, jerking, fucking, and sucking. These were some hot sluts and, though I’m pretty sure most of them knew each other already (I could be wrong), it was still awesome the way they just embraced their sexual sides and went at each other on the spot. It was all about having fun, not about conforming to what somebody else thinks sex should be. It’s both an attitude I want to emulate and a quality I’d like to have in the people I surround myself with.

Finally, I must say, I was very jealous of the three or four guys I saw with chain collars locked on. Hawk knows this. I am sure that while it may take a while to work on the first three points, this one he may rectify shortly.

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