Page 54 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
Collin balked. The urge to go was so strong and yet with all the years of his life behind him, the thought of opening his pants and pissing while being watched was enough to freeze his feet to the floor.
“You have a need, Collin. Attend to it.”
He’s not going to leave.
Mr. Reevesworth closed the door and leaned against the counter, crossing his ankles, looking for all the world as if he had nowhere else to be.
Collin closed his eyes. You’re the one who didn’t ask for privacy.
And Mr. Reevesworth had already said what his intentions in regard to that were.
Fingers shaking, Collin opened his pants and shoved them down. The pain was too much. He sat and doubled up as the dam broke.
The room was eerily silent in the aftermath of the deluge. Collin stayed where he was, hands over his face.
Mr. Reevesworth was standing in front of him. His hands went into Collin’s hair, softly rubbing his scalp. “There you are, beautiful boy.”
Collin shook his head. He wasn’t beautiful. He was a man with his pants around his ankles sitting on a toilet being watched because he couldn’t hold it.
“It’s a hard lesson to rewrite, Collin. But rewrite it we shall. Perhaps next time, you will not force yourself to suffer so long. In the end, this is where you will always come to be.”
There were no words in Collin’s mouth. In time, Mr. Reevesworth stepped back. Collin stood up and put his clothes to rights. He flushed and washed his hands. Mr. Reevesworth opened the door. Together, they returned to the office.
Mr. Reevesworth pointed to the floor. Collin sank down slowly beside his chair. He felt strangely cold. Mr. Reevesworth retook his seat and turned back to his computer. His hand rested briefly in Collin’s hair again, and then he was back to his keyboard.
The man was only five inches away, but it was too far. Collin eased his buttocks across the rug until he ran into one of the wheel spokes on the chair. He leaned his head against the edge of the back. It was soft leather; vegan or otherwise, he couldn’t tell.
Thoughts drifted like ships without captains through his mind. In what seemed like no time at all, pressure built in his bladder once again.
He pressed his eyes closed. Five minutes. He could do five minutes. And then he would ask. One Mississippi, two Mississippi. He could do this. All he had to do was pace himself.
He lost track somewhere in minute three and started over. Lost track again, but surely that had been five minutes?
All he had to do was put his hand on Mr. Reevesworth’s thigh, and there would be relief.
That’s all he had to do. Move his hand. He was already clutching the chair. Another three inches and his need would be declared. Surely, Mr. Reevesworth already sensed he was in pain.
But that wasn’t the point. Was it?
Collin dropped his head against the brace of the arm of the chair. There were no more keys clicking above.
Just move your damn hand and ask, damn it.
He couldn’t. He let go of the chair and drew back, putting his back against the under-desk cabinet. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Such a stupidly simple thing, and…he couldn’t.
Tears, hot and angry, spilled out onto the sleeves of his shirt.
Mr. Reevesworth’s chair rolled back. Collin felt the man crouch down in front of him. “Collin. Collin. You can’t ask, can you? Not yet. But you will learn. This is why we’re having this lesson.”
Strong fingers forced his face out of his arms.
Collin glared through his tears. “It’s stupid. It’s just water.”
“It’s a basic need.”
“I should be able to control myself.”
“I was the one who ordered you to drink.”
