He didn't laugh so much as let out a single, clear "ha!" that was of approval and triumph, but it still broke a little of the gravity of the situation. No sooner had the exclamation burst from him than he was on one knee before her, holding the collar horizontally by either end. He pressed it forward, his hands coming around either side of her neck so that the smooth interior of the fine leather tucked around her neck.<br/><br/>He was moving around to get behind her when he spoke, while carefully holding the collar in place despite his own movements. "I would be an idiot not to agree. Still, don't think this means I'll go easy on you... If you fuck up, or in any way displease me, you're still in trouble." He sounded almost gleeful about it, though it was restrained. "But..." He continued in a softer tone, with a little more warmth. "If you do well, and try hard, I will treat you so very well."<br/><br/>He tugged the collar tight and fastened it. "Can you breath clearly?" He asked, to ensure it was snug. Zoey clearly could, so he slipped a pair of fingers in alongside her neck, at which point it grew tight enough that it was just starting to impede her airway. He stopped soon enough and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, just above the collar. "Good. Take it off only to clean, and never in the company of others, myself included. Otherwise I'll have to assume you didn't want it anymore and..."<br/><br/>The words trailed off, but Quentin found himself uneager to explain the response if she did. Instead one hand went around her stomach at he half-helped, half-heaved her to her feet. "Let's find you a mirror."<br/><br/>They were plentiful around the peculiar shop, and soon he had her stood in front of one with him at her back and his arms looped lightly, but possessively, around her midriff. His eyes were watching her throat in the mirror, appreciative of the new adornment. "Still like it?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>