I have a relatively well-appointed workspace in my garage, but it’s for woodworking. I don’t do metal beyond Firehouse, junior high shop class level soldering, and occasional short-lived obsessions with various arts and crafts. I don’t own a bandsaw, a blow torch, or bolt cutters.
In theory, taking O-rings off a collar isn’t difficult or complicated, but in reality, it took me while to figure out. It required multiple trips to Home Depot and several frustration-related cocktail breaks.
In hindsight, I should have taken some measurements and read up on what’s required to cut through different gauges of metal. Or I could have just taken the collar with me to Home Depot and asked an employee for a recommendation.
I mean, Home Depot is pretty fucking kinky anyway (it’s my favorite place for pervertibles). And I don’t give a fuck if Employee-of-the-Month Dax McJerksov realizes I like to fuck boys while they’re collared and chained to my bed. If he does, I’m sure his bright orange apron will hide his hard-on well enough.
pervertibles: WD40 isn’t an appropriate substitute for lube, but zip ties are made of awesome.
Dax McJerksov, Employee of Month: the apron hides the boner… I mean… the ‘hardware.’
Anyway, the first bolt cutters I bought didn’t cut jack shit. They did little more than put ugly dents in the D-rings, so I assumed I just needed bigger bolt cutters. Once again, I didn’t bother to read anything — I just went back to the store and bought a bigger pair.
The bigger bolt cutters made bigger dents, but didn’t cut even halfway through.
At some point, I noticed the odd hex screws (eccentricity bolts?) and realized that bolt cutters need to be calibrated in some way. (The damn things don’t come with instructions and I didn’t think I needed any beyond step 1) buy bolt cutters, step 2) cut bolt.)
Adjusting the bolt cutters correctly took some time (and even more frustration-related cocktails) — surprisingly, there aren’t decent instructions online. The instructions I found told me to adjust the blades until they were a sheet-of-paper-thickness apart (almost touching, but not), but they didn’t tell me how to do that. (Yes, I knew it was the hex bolts/screws/nuts/whateverthefuck, but with three of them, I didn’t know which of them to adjust, in which direction, or to what degree. If I got the blades parallel, they were too far apart. When I got them close enough, they weren’t parallel….)
Anyway, I fucked around with the adjustments, had another cocktail, and at some point, I finally got the blades parallel and almost-but-not-quite-touching.
Don’t be a douchebag and email me instructions on how to adjust bolt cutters. I don’t give a fuck.
After I adjusted the bolt cutters properly, I had a celebratory cocktail, cried a little, had an “I’m sad” cocktail, and passed out a short time later. Thankfully, I made it out of the garage and fell asleep on the couch. Still, waking up with a ratchet and a bunch of different sockets on my coffee table was a bit disorienting.
The next day, or maybe the day after that (more breakup sex was somewhere in there), I returned to the garage, stuck the rings in the vice grips and bolt-cutted a half an inch of steel out of the D-ring on the left and the D-ring on the right. It was fucking transcendent — I felt purposeful, powerful, and masculine (wait… stereotypical ‘dudes’ don’t use the word “transcendent” to describe their feelings… do they?). The only thing that would have made it better is if I had been wearing a cock while I did it. Unfortunately, not wearing pants in the garage is a health hazard on a number of levels.
It took exactly 4 minutes and 47 seconds from when I started turning the vice grips on the first D-ring until I finished loosening them after the second D-ring (and that’s including time in the middle to admire my handiwork.)
I left the center D-ring and O-ring intact — and that’s the way our collar will stay for the foreseeable future.
As for the detached O-rings… I have plans for them.
More on this… soon.