Page 40 of Collin: Episodes 4-6
We will discuss this when you return.
I’m on my way, sir.
Mr. Reevesworth was waiting when Collin stepped back into the office he shared with Hartwick, Janice, and Bruiski. Collin’s schematics were in his hand. He looked over the top of them at Collin as he approached. Collin dropped his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t have gone out without talking with his dom. He hadn’t even checked in.
“I have the computer, sir. And my old phone.”
Ash made the give-me motion with both hands. Collin glanced at Mr. Reevesworth.
His dom nodded. “He’ll need your passwords.”
Collin nodded. “Just let me write them down.”
“Do that. I’ll see you in my office after.”
A phantom need to bite his own arm or scratch wafted through Collin’s body. He gritted his teeth and turned back to Ash. “Let’s make this quick.”
Collin couldn’t meet Mr. Reevesworth’s eyes as he stepped inside the office and shut the door. Mr. Reevesworth was standing on the other side of the desk. He tapped the surface with the end of a stylus. “I think, Collin, that you forgot something.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Reevesworth sat down in his chair. He pointed to the carpet in front of his feet. Collin went around the desk.
“Down.”
Collin’s breath hitched. He sank to his knees and pressed his palms against his thighs. Inside his chest, his heart beat fast enough for a tango.
A hand settled on the back of his head and pushed him down toward the tiny bit of space on the edge of the chair between Mr. Reevesworth’s thighs.
“Breathe, Collin.” Mr. Reevesworth drew in his legs, bracketing Collin with his body. “There you go, boy.”
Collin shuddered. His fingers curled into his thighs, but it was nowhere near enough pain.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“For what?”
“All of it. The fax, getting photographed, not being here.”
“Only one of those items was your choice.”
“But if I’d been here, I wouldn’t have been photographed.”
“If you’d remembered your hat, you’d have been less recognizable.” Mr. Reevesworth massaged the back of Collin’s scalp. “Just breathe.”
“Can’t.” Familiar cold tingles ran up and down Collin’s limbs.
“If I wasn’t here, what would you be doing?”
Collin gritted his teeth. It was so hard to talk past the shaking and the clenching in his chest. “I’d scratch, sir.”
Mr. Reevesworth pulled him up off the floor by the back of his coat. The man’s chair slid back and away from the desk with the force of his movement, crashing into the wall. Collin’s head spun as Mr. Reevesworth flipped him. He landed on his stomach, bent over the massive hardwood desk.
The room spun. There was a hand on his back, holding him down. Collin’s fingers curled against the cold surface.
CRACK!
Cold, then hot pain shot up his spine from his buttocks.
