Collar

Placing the leather upon the table he carefully brought the blade down on the end. Precisely trimming first one side and then the other until he had formed a point. Lifting the piece up and straightening it out he ran the leather through his fingers before placing it gently back upon the bench. Taking the awl and a ruler he marked off the point for holes by applying just enough pressure to leave a mark.

He didn't work quickly but he worked smoothly. He knew what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do and was more than just confident in his skills. This was not to say he was complacent. Far from it. What he was creating was unlike anything he'd made before and it was that fact that ensured he remained entirely focused. It had to be perfect, for so many reasons.

Taking the edging tool he ran it round the edge of one side and then the other. There could be no hard edges on this, nothing to detract from its function. With that said its form had to be something to admire as well. He carefully trimmed the off-cuts to create some small wedges that would be used to reinforce the leather at critical point.

Taking all those pieces he moved to a large wooden board and meticulously started to stain the leather to create a uniform colour. With that done he stepped back and allowed it time to rest before he started to polish it. Brightening up the colour and adding a touch of beauty to the piece, though there would be yet more to come. He had to wrestle with his mind as it kept drifting to what would happen when the product was done. More than once he had to put the leather down and take a deep breath to steady himself. He prided himself on his focus yet today simply reinforced how certain thoughts could creep up and surprise him.

Those certain thoughts of course revolved around one person, around her. From the light flutter of her laughter, to the way when she was working she'd flick her hair over her should. Tilting her head just a touch and providing such an enticing view of her exquisite neck and a glimpse of her collarbone. She was entrancing in even the most menial of things and while she belonged to him, he wholeheartedly belonged to her. Indeed that was part of the reason he was creating what he was. He had thought so much about the dynamic between the two of them. The way she would bend to his will yet the way he needed her permission to do that. So much of it was unspoken and there were those who certainly wouldn't understand the level of respect there had to be to make something like that work. Care was such a vital component of it yet if you saw it in action you wouldn't understand that without prior knowledge.

Now he picked up the creasing tool and ran it along the leather, creating an area for the stitching to sit flush with the leather itself. Next was to punch a narrow slender oblong hole for one end of the buckle to sit, then trimming down the edge to have it sit flush against the back. He then took a small mallet and a chisel punch and worked his way around the crease. This would make stitching and tacking much easier and provide even guide holes for him. With that done he slid the wedges carefully into place as he added the buckle and then the loop. These were tacked into place and he held up his work, examining it carefully to ensure there were no areas that could be improved upon. Satisfied he set it down and picked up an open D-ring, slipping another ring through the small gap before taking his mallet and gently closing it.

With that task complete he set about stitching the piece. He had contemplated what colour to use and had settled on a deeply luxuriant shade of red. After all, that was his favourite colour. It was this part he found most tedious but when he was done he was more than happy with the result. It added a little dash of colour to the leather but didn't truly stand out or distract you. Now he dropped the D-ring over it and set it in place. Taking the wide strip he had prepared earlier, essentially just a larger version of what he had done here. He once again examined it carefully before laying one down atop the other. He had precisely measured where the next set of tacks would go, to connect both pieces, either side of the bronze gold ring that now centrally presented itself. The fittings had been specifically chosen, as each and every piece of this project had been. The leather had to be hard wearing yet supple. He couldn't run the risk of it not being comfortable to wear on many occasions and in a multitude of situations. Yet what he couldn't risk was it quickly wearing out or breaking during a crucial moment. He believed he had found a happy medium with that.

His work was complete and now he took the time to once again examine it carefully and completely. Taking a cloth he used specifically for this purpose to rub down the leather and another to shine the metal. Content he reached under the bench from a sealed plastic bag he removed a slender velvet case. Flipping it open he placed the piece inside and gently closed the box.

She would be home soon, he knew that without checking the clock. He moved quickly and with purpose, first to wash his hands, then to prepare dinner. The chorizo was chopped into manageable chunks, the onions finely diced, the blade coming down in rapid succession as he used his knuckles as a guide. The peppers were then cut into strips and the olives simply cut in half. He browned the chicken and removed them to a waiting plate. Adding a dash more oil to the pan he tossed in the onions, letting them turn a faint gold before adding some garlic and the peppers. Already the aromas that wafted pleasantly through the air made his mouth water. Dropping the chorizo in he watched everything meld together as the red from the sausage seeped out into its surroundings.

He felt almost giddy with excitement. He adored working with his hands and now not only had he created something he so hoped she'd like, -in fact, he knew she would- he was also cooking which always put him in a good mood. He kept one eye on the clock though, knowing he was working to a schedule. After a few minutes he added the rice, folding it over and over in the pan as he sprinkled a touch of paprika across the top. He reached out for the chicken stock he had waiting, letting the jug hover over the pan for a moment as he made sure the rice was properly coated in the now flavourful and aromatic oil. Carefully he started to pour until it was done. His final ingredient was a dry white wine. For the occasion he'd chosen an Alvarinho form the Vinho Verde region of Portugal. He savoured the notes from the wine as he inhaled deeply before pouring a few good measures in.

Once it was simmering away nicely he placed the chicken on top and then foil across the top of that. Dashing out the kitchen he took the stairs three at a time and darted down the hallway. Flinging open the shower room door he started the taps and undressed quickly. When the water was hot he wet his brush and lathered up his shaving soap before applying it to his face and neck. It was a fine art to keep a well maintained beard and shaving was still a part of it. The razor ran smoothly down and he checked his beard from several angles. Taking a trimmer he did away with any stray hairs and ensured it was perfect.

A quick shower and he was out, towelling himself dry before applying some moisturiser and a lightly scented beard oil. Cedar was a notable component, along with a slight citrus element and a subtle touch of spice. He dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a fitted black shirt. As he rolled up the sleeves and then reached for his watch the buttons strained against his broad chest. Sliding the leather strap into place he was ready. Gone was the worker who'd carefully crafted leather into the form he wanted, replaced by the polished individual who now strode confidently down the stairs.

It was an act though. He would never admit to anyone how anxious he felt. Not only was he presenting something he'd made- which always made him anxious- but he had put so much effort into this evening. Part of him already knew she would love it. But what if she didn't? What if she didn't like the gift? What if the food burned or she didn't feel like eating or what if what if what if? So many scenarios ran through his head as he checked on the meal. It was a side of him he hid well, though of course she knew about it. She was his strength, and he was her power.

That fist in his stomach remained though as he laid the table, the perfectionist in him making sure the cutlery lined up neatly. Back in the kitchen he cut slices of a crusty bread and placed them into a small wicker basket and took them to the table. Next up was a simple salad and that was easy enough to prepare. Even as he worked the knife his eyes kept going to the large clock on the wall. A piece he hated but she adored, her reasoning being it could be easily read from anywhere in the kitchen. He couldn't deny that, though he still didn't like it.

The key in the lock announced her arrival and his head shot up. He fought the urge to bolt into the hallway to greet her, but only just. He waited until he heard the door close, his heart hammering in his chest, counted out a few seconds and then stepped out.

'Evening honey.' He smiled broadly at the sight of her, unable to not be happy.

She did the same but paused for a moment when she saw how he was dressed. Her hesitation hadn't gone unnoticed but by her gaze he knew why. With a single step he cleared the distance between them and embraced her tightly with a kiss that was intense and passionate from the moment their lips touched. Time became little more than an inconsequential concept until their lips finally parted. She found herself out of breath, and almost like she couldn't catch it.

'Head through and I'll bring you a glass of wine, or would you rather change?'

She wasn't prepared to be asked a question, her mind was yet to properly restart. Instead she found herself walking into the lounge with her mind still reeling. As she dropped onto the overstuffed sofa and sank into its luxurious and comforting embrace she noticed the dining table had been set. Only then did her nose finally detect the warm and delectable smells emanating from the kitchen. She tried to focus and identify them but her mind simply would not engage. Only as he appeared in the doorway was she snatched form her haze.

She took the glass of wine and the chill from it suddenly kicked her mind into step.

'Are we expecting guests?'

'Oh no, not tonight. It's just the two of us.'

For the next half hour he listened attentively as she told him about her day. The ups and downs as well as venting about whatever was going on in general. Eventually he directed her to the dining table and soon came back with the casserole dish, placing it upon a cork mat on the edge of the table. He served her first and topped up her wine before serving himself and sitting down. Over dinner they discussed whatever came to mind, laughing and teasing as time passed. He quickly cleared the plates and reappeared with dessert. Something he'd love to say he had made himself but in reality he'd gone out that morning to get it. A rich sponge filled with dark chocolate that oozed slowly out when the sponge was pierced by a spoon. As that first spoonful touched her lips and grazed her tongue she felt her eyes roll back in abject delight.

With dinner finally done and the sun long since set she leant back in her chair. Her appetite sated, occupying that slightly woozy area where your eyelids feel heavy but not due to wanting sleep, just through simple satisfaction. He cleared the table and she moved back to the couch, tucking her legs up under her as she clasped her wine glass with both hands. The faint music continued in the background but she couldn't be bothered attempting to discern words. She only came back into the room because she was now aware of him standing before her. She looked up at him and her mind delighted in the difference in size. Admittedly her being seated emphasised his height, but it could not emphasise his breadth. Those muscular forearms, the traces of veins visible through skin. Even as he stood relaxed she could still faintly make out the different muscle groups within his forearm.

From behind his back he brought a flat, square box and the sight of it caused her to grin as she sat up. However as he slowly opened it the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her mouth was unexpectedly impossibly dry. Her eyes suddenly darted up to his and now she felt very small. He had bent forward just slightly so he was over her and his gaze had taken on this slightly predatory nature. Her pulse was rapid, she could feel blood hammering through her veins. Excitement welled up within her until it was exerting such pressure she felt she might burst. He didn't say anything, but with a finger signalled for her to turn around.

Without thinking she did just that and swept her hair up and way from her neck. For a moment one of his hands gripped her shoulder before reaching round, brushing against her jaw. She felt the leather- not cold but not warm- against her skin and the little clink from the buckle. She heard it again and from the slight pressure it exerted she knew he was fastening it. When finally she felt both hands on her shoulders she dropped her hair and her hand flitted to the collar. She ran her finger along just inside the edge before grasping the ring at the front of her throat. There was an understated elegance to it that she adored. It wasn't gaudy, it didn't state anything other than exactly what it was meant to.

Now he applied a bit of movement to her shoulders and she obediently turned back around to face him. He admired her staring up at him, and how good she looked with his collar around her throat. He ran a finger along her jaw and down her chin until he looped it through the metal ring and pulled it up gently but firmly. She rose with it, keeping her hands by her side as her head was cocked up and as she saw him bend slightly to meet her she felt as if her heart had stopped. Their lips met again and this time it was so much more than it had been before. Before had been passionate but this was like lightning shooting down through to her very soul.

It did not last anywhere near as long as she would have liked until he pulled her back from him. His eyes were locked on hers. His thumb came up to hold her chin so she had to maintain eye contact.

'Upstairs.' He growled wickedly.

The moment she was released she scrabbled off the couch and did a hurried walk that skipped into a half run as she reached the door and turned sharply to race up the stairs, the sound of his footsteps already signalling he was following.

She stopped in the middle of the bedroom, just in front of the bedroom and turned to face the door. Without even thinking she clasped her hands in front of her. The anticipation was all encompassing and she felt excited but with that slight current of anxiety to make the excitement feel like an even greater height. It wasn't anxiety per se, but it was more the expectation of the unknown before an exhilarating event that you're so desperately keen for. She could feel her pulse in her extremities, she could feel her heart beating hard in her chest. She was trying to control her breathing, to maintain some semblance of calm as she felt that inexorable tingle spread more rapidly through her body.

He seemed to be taking an age to make it down the hallway. Her peripheral vision had failed entirely and all she could see was the bedroom door. An age seemed to pass between each of his footfalls. His leather souled boots making an easily audible sound on the hardwood floor with each step. She flexed and spread her toes, feeling the carpet underneath her feet. She had all this energy and she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists. She was restless, she wanted movement, she wanted action, she wanted to please. There, that was the underlying catalyst for her sudden and now found energy. Each time she moved her neck she felt his collar. The leather brushing softly against her jaw inflamed her desire to even greater heights. It was a weakness of hers, she adored his fingers across her neck and jaw, his fingers grazing her skin. It was something he loved to do "innocently" in public knowing it caused her breath to catch. Now though the collar was an extension of him, a very real part of who they were now.

The steps were impossibly close now and she became aware she was holding her breath. Exhaling as slowly as she could the door now swung open. He stood there, filling up the doorframe, his eyes already locked on hers as if he already knew where she was in the room. She saw something drop from his hand and her eyes went wide at the sight. He held a slender chain and from each end dangled a pair of leather cuffs that matched her collar. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, drawing out the moment, knowing it would be such torture for her.

He walked slowly, each step carefully thought out until he stood before her. More than a full head taller and with a number of inches either side, he dwarfed her. He hung the cuffs around her neck, his eyes never leaving hers. With one hand he started to undo the buttons of her blouse, flicking them open with a well practiced snap of his fingers. He then parted it just enough to place his fingertips on her stomach and slowly ran them up, pulling the blouse open as he did so until it dropped from her shoulders. Then he unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. The intensity of the moment turning her mind in on itself and she so desperately wanted him.

His hands rested upon her hips for a moment and then suddenly he lifted her and tossed her back onto the bed. She yelped in surprise but was easily cushioned by their mattress. She'd barely had time to think before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her back towards the end of the bed, leaning forward slightly to hook a finger through the ring on her collar and pull her up into a sitting position. Had you been watching you'd think it was a well honed routine. He knew how and when to use his strength, and how best to apply it.

She was aching for him now, her panties soaked but he'd managed to lead her down this path and she wouldn't risk unbalancing anything. Mainly because she simply didn't want to. She loved submitting to him, both for the acts themselves but also because of the care that came afterwards. The respect they both had for each other, the trust they placed in one another, this was simply a display of those traits in an unconventional form. He held her at such an angle that she had to keep her chin up. Feeling his fingertips grazing up her thighs before a single finger ran down her panties. A wicked grin spread across his face and her breath caught again at his touch.

'Have you been good today?'

'Yes.' She moaned.

He used the ring on her collar to give her a little shake, not hard or uncomfortable, more as a kind of punctuation point.

'Yes what?'

'Yes s-sir.'

'Much better.'

The edge his voice had taken on in those two initial short words melted away for his response. He continued to tease her through the soft fabric of her underwear. Her whimpers and breathy moans becoming more evident as the seconds passed by. He was having to fight his own urges. Wanting her had stopped long ago, now he needed her. He needed to be inside her. He needed to feel her soft skin under his hands. He needed to hear those moans that signalled she'd lost control and given in to the ecstasy of the moment. Not yet though, not yet.

Deftly moving his fingers, he pulled her panties aside and once again ran a finger up her pussy. Holding up his hand for a moment he then pressed it against her lips and into her mouth. She hungrily licked it clean as he held her head steady. Pulling back his hand he kissed her. Any attempt at subtlety was long gone as that single kiss conveyed his earth rending desire for her and she felt every ounce of it. As they kissed his hand moved back to her pussy as he toyed first with her clit and then slowly slid a finger inside her. She gasped into his mouth but couldn't do much otherwise. He knew exactly what to do and when to do it and paid such close attention to her body that soon she felt as if she was on fire. He pulled his head back and let go of the collar just long enough to pull her breasts from her bra. Hungrily taking first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. His tongue running circles around them, teasingly flicking out across them. Slowly he pulled his head back as he held a nipple between his teeth and she hissed in surprise and delight.