Pet

We're lying in bed together. She's fully dressed, I'm in the remains of my traveling clothes. Black jeans & socks, leather bracers, leather collar. My t-shirt is lying on the ground, along with the contents of my pockets. My keys had been uncomfortable to lie on, and the cat fur on the shirt was upsetting her allergies (living with four cats fuzzy clothing is sort of unavoidable).

We've been snuggling for a while. She's been playing with me, fingertips and fingernails on skin. It feels wonderful, and I've been reduced to incoherent gasping whimpers more than once already. A thought comes into my head, a thought I didn't expect at all. I lie there for a while still enjoying her touch while that thought bounces back and fourth in my mind. I'm screwing up my courage, trying to get the strength to ask it.

Finally I reach back to where she is stroking up my spine and gently take hold of her hand as it reaches my shoulder blades.

"Um..."

"Would... um..."

"Would... you..."

{I can't believe I'm asking this. I can't believe that now that I am asking it and want it very badly that I can't just say it.}

"Would you... Would you... ...top me?"

{I just asked that question? Me?!? I'm not into all that kinky stuff. I mean I've played around with power dynamics and stuff but nothing serious. Not like this. Oh gods what if she says no? What if she laughs at me?}

She pauses (I bet that was the last thing she was expecting!) then agrees with a smile.

~~

A brief interval ensues where we discuss what I want from this, safe words, etc. Then it begins.

It starts out pretty much like any other time someone has been playing with my skin. The touch of their hands on my skin, my eyes closed so I can concentrate on the sensation. Not long into it I roll from my side to my back trying to follow a touch. I hear her voice.

"It's ok this time because this position gives me better access to your neck, but in the future do not move without my permission."

Oh, right. She gets to decide what happens. Got to remember that, don't want to displease her, she might stop.

~~

It goes on for ages. She discovers what causes the most interesting reactions.

Fingernails raked across my chest and over my shoulder. I arch my back with a harsh intake of breath.

"You sound just like a cat hissing."

She lightly teases the palm of my hand with her fingertips. I whimper and writhe in response.

"Oh. I can do that in restaurants..."

(And she does, repeatedly over the next two days. In restaurants and stores. While looking at exhibits in a museum. Often while not even really paying attention to me. So she's looking at something else while stroking my palm and I'm trying to keep my whimpers inaudible and not wriggle enough to make people stare at me.)

~~

Eventually it winds down, I come back down from that out of it state I get when being played with. She tells me I did well, that I made her quite happy.

~~

{Fast forward to the next evening. Same setting, almost exactly the same as the previous night in fact.}

She is topping me again. Much the same as the previous night. Then she notices that my breathing changes every time she gets close to the collar I'm wearing, get within a half inch of it and my breathing quickens, short fast gasps.

She hooks a finger through the D-ring, and pulls just enough to make me fully conscious of the collar encircling my neck.

The collar, the one that sits in my bag with the rest of my odds 'n ends. The one I bought at a pet store a few years ago as part of a Halloween costume that didn't pan out. It has a little black metal tag hanging off it, 'PIXEL' engraved upon it. I wear it fairly regularly, and think nothing of it.

Right now I am thinking of nothing but it. A half inch wide strip of black leather and a few chrome hardware bits. One finger, and a microscopic amount of pressure.

{Wait! When I said I wanted to be topped, this wasn't what I was talking about. But... I said I wanted her to be the one in control, and that means this too. And... And... What if she stops playing with it?}

She tugs lightly, and I gasp with pleasure.

~~

She moves on, playing with me some more, coming back to the collar from time to time to ensure she has my attention.

~~

She is licking my neck right at the adam's apple, just above the collar, quick light licks. My breathing is so quick and staccato I suddenly realize that I'm not actually getting enough oxygen, and I have to say it.

"stop."

It couldn't have been more than a faint whisper, but she stops instantly. And I am curled around her knees as she kneels beside me, stroking my hair and telling me it's ok. I slow my breathing, trying to remember to breath deeply. Once I've calmed down a bit I explain what happened. Then I apologize, and she tells me that no, it's ok. I did just fine, she's not upset at all.

~~

We are playing again. She keeps telling me I'm her pet. Fingertips traveling down my spine. I roll the word and concept around in my head. Tugging on the collar, she tells me I'm a good pet, that I'm doing well.

Pet.

I want to be a good pet, I want her to be happy with me, I want to do well. I want to be her pet.

~~

She'a tugging on the collar again, enough pressure that I have to arch my neck slightly. And she starts talking about leashes. Clipping a leash onto the collar and leading me around by it. She tells me that if she did that I'd have to follow her, and follow every twitch of her hand. I begin whimpering at the very thought of it, and every time she mentions a leash again my pulse and breath quickens.

Things start winding down, she asks if there is anything else I want. I manage to whisper one word.

"Leash."

She apologizes, says she doesn't have one. I whimper in quiet frustration. She tells me to wait, and leaves for a moment, when she returns she clips something to the collar's D-ring (a strap off something I find out later). Gently but insistently tugging she guides me from laying down to my knees.

"I don't think you need to stand."

Then.

"Ok, this way, on your hand and knees is fine."

She pulls firmly but gently on the lead. I move carefully forward, having to move gently as my eyes are closed and I can't see any obstacles. But I trust her not to misguide me.

I move slowly enough that the collar is a constant strong pressure on the back of my neck. The feline in me will allow itself to be led, but it's damn if it'll go completely willingly.

She tells me to sit, then tugs upwards on the lead, and kisses me passionately.

"You did well, I am very pleased."

She unclips the lead, and we hug each other for a long time, kneeling there on the floor.

~~

The next day we are at a pet store, she buys a leash made of thin chrome chain. And at one of those automated tag engraving machines makes a tag up. It is the same style as my 'PIXEL' tag, little black metal circle with silver letters.

It spells out her name, with an 's attached to it.

~~

Pet.