Page 62 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
“You’re sleeping in my room tonight. And if I decide to wake you up and take you to the bathroom tonight, there won’t be any punishments.”
“Why?”
“Because you hit subspace for the first time in your life. You’re the equivalent of intoxicated.”
“Oh.” Collin dropped his head to the bed. So tired. If he could just float here.
“You still have to drink, Collin.” That tone was heavy. Powerful, dark. Collin opened his mouth. Someone laughed. Mr. Reevesworth was wrestling him up, holding him. The bottle was against his lips.
Water. Life. Collin brought his hands up, clutching at the bottle. He wanted all of it. Now that he tasted it, he wanted all of it.
“Slowly.”
He didn’t want slow. But he was too tired to fight it.
Somehow, he ended up on his feet, moving from one room to another. There was a new room and a new bed. A smaller one. But it smelled like Mr. Reevesworth. And Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau were in the room.
“Collin, I’m going to blindfold you.”
“Okay.”
“Stay in the bed.”
“You might need to restrain him.”
“You think that would be wise?”
“Something mild, like a silk scarf and one hand. Just enough to remind him.
Something sinfully smooth wrapped around his wrist. “Collin, stay.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to take care of what you gave me. Stay here.” Mr. Reevesworth put Collin’s hand on what felt like an impressive erection.
“Yes, sir.”
“Give him your shirt.”
“Good idea.” Mr. Reevesworth sounded slightly breathless. A shirt dropped on Collin’s chest . Blindfolded, he grabbed it and shoved his face into it. It smelled perfect. He hummed in the back of his throat. So tired. Behind the mask, his eyes fluttered shut.
Soft gasps and groans came from the direction of the bigger bed a few feet away. Bedsprings creaked. Collin floated away.
Friday
He woke up warm. Almost too warm. What were these sheets? They weren’t his. There was a heavy body against his back and an arm around his back, keeping him tight against the chest on which he was half resting.
“Sir?”
“Collin.” The body under him shifted and turned to show Mr. Reevesworth’s face. On his other side, Mr. Moreau raised his head.
“Is it morning?”
“Almost,” Mr. Reevesworth replied. “Collin, do you need something?”
“Bathroom.” Collin rubbed his face. “Where am I?”
“Our bed.”
