Just Like Animals

№ 12

With a towel wrapped around his head like a turban and skin still damp, Ricky stepped out of the bathroom, staring down as he twiddled his hands.  He stayed quiet, not sure if Chris' silence was a sign of anger or if they had just run out of things to talk about.

He didn't know why Chris asked if he liked boys and frankly, Ricky hadn't really considered it before.  To Ricky, getting pegged and liking men were entirely different and the anal sex aspect was just a coincidental overlap that didn't mean anything.  All he knew was that he still loved Jaime and he didn't have any room in his heart for anyone else. 

Chris watched as Ricky's shifted his gaze around, obviously trying to avoid eye contact.  He couldn't help but notice how much better Ricky looked now that he was clean and wearing his own clothes rather than Chris' oversized ones.

"Come on." Chris coaxed, turning to head down the stairs.  He still hadn't had breakfast and he knew Ricky was probably hungry too.  He would've made something for himself earlier but he had errands to run and things to do.  Of course, he could've made a quick meal right then and there, but he had something else to do first.

For a couple of days, Chris had wanted to take the chain off Ricky.  He knew it had to be uncomfortable, but he didn't exactly trust Ricky.  It was fine for him to be free while in the bathroom which was essential a dead end, but on the first floor, there were windows and doors everywhere which would make it much easier for Ricky to flee, especially at night while Chris was asleep.  And since Chris had plenty of time to think, he came up with a sort of plan that would make Ricky a bit more comfortable.

Like usual, the two went to the den, Ricky sitting on the floor in front of the hearth instead of on the couch.  After showering, he had caught a chill and the radiant energy from the fire felt so nice and helped him dry off a bit. 

While Ricky was distracted, Chris crept into the kitchen to retrieved a sturdy, gloss-coated, cardstock shopping bag from the dining table, pulling some of the tissue paper out of it before carrying it to the den.  He watched Ricky for a few moments, making sure he was oblivious before he set the bag down, reaching inside of it and pulling out the chunky leather collar. 

Early that morning, before the sun had even risen, Chris stopped by one of the clubs he frequented, purchasing the collar.  It was the thickest, sturdiest one on the market with multiple loops all around it and a set of heavy buckles on the back, additionally having a spot for a small, optional lock.

Standing for a moment and just feeling the weight of the choker in his hand, Chris questioned if it was really necessary to restrain Ricky in such a way. After all, he looked so peaceful and he wasn't even trying to escape.  Chris quickly shook the thought from his mind though, remembering why he was doing it and the self preservation behind it.

With a silent sigh, Chris crept up behind Ricky, quickly wrapping the collar around his neck and buckling it down tight before Ricky could say or do much of anything in protest. 

Still staring into the fire as if nothing had even happened, it took several minutes for Ricky to realize what had taken place.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Ricky choked out, feeling over the collar.  He couldn't help but tear up, his emotions getting the best of him.  He felt as though Chris was trying to break him with all the ups and downs he was putting him through. 

One minute Chris was caring for Ricky as if he was his child and the next he was threatening to kill him.  He would act as if they were just two friends having a sleepover only to flip and remind Ricky he was being held captive. 

Ricky had thought they were making progress towards letting him go free, only for Chris to once again establish his power over him.  It made Ricky feel as if he was going insane, as if nothing was real and it was just some horrible hallucination or dream.  Or maybe that he had died and he was in hell.

Chris stood by, watching as Ricky started to collapse in on himself like a black hole.  He was rocking back and forth, shaking, sobbing, and clawing at his neck, trying to get his fingers under the collar to pry it off.

It was when Ricky started to scratch into his skin that Chris stepped in, sitting down next to him and pulling him into his lap. "It's okay." He whispered, fighting Ricky's arms down to his sides and holding him tight.

Ricky was absolutely hysterical and so mentally numb that all he could really do was give into Chris.  He was still shaking and crying, but to some extent, being held and cradled by a warm body calmed him down.

"Are you hungry?" Chris asked after Ricky had stopped sobbing and was just quietly weeping.  Ricky didn't immediately respond, so Chris slowly loosened his grip on Ricky, looking down at his face.  His cheeks were puffy and red from all the crying and his eyes just stared straight ahead, his mind being elsewhere.

No longer being clutched tight, Ricky started to shake again, so Chris clamped his hands around his shoulders, squeezing hard. "Ricky..." He whispered, careful trying to bring him back to reality.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Ricky's eyes shifted a bit, focussing on Chris' face. "Ricky, I'm going to put you on the floor so I can make breakfast. Okay?" Chris spoke slow and calmly, trying to make sure Ricky understood him.

Ricky didn't respond, not so much as a nod, so Chris moved carefully, grabbing Ricky by the hips and lifting him up. 

Without a thought in his little empty head, Ricky leaned forward, pressing his lips into Chris', giving him a kiss that was rough and messy.  Despite it being exactly what Chris wanted from Ricky, Chris could tell that there was no passion behind his actions.  It was absolutely clear that Ricky had mentally snapped which made being kissed more painful than never being kissed at all.

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