Page 17 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
This time, all he could do was hold posture and whimper now and then as the cramps hit. He couldn’t move. His trust was in Mr. Reevesworth’s hands, slowly massaging his belly, easing him through the process. The man’s hands. They were magic. He wanted to lick and kiss them and tell him just how perfect they were. He would follow those hands anywhere.
The weight of the water inside made him feel even more on display. Surely his belly was distended. Mr. Reevesworth hummed in approval.
“So good for me, kitten. Taking this for me.” He petted the curve of Collin’s soft underbelly, then fingered his cock. It twitched despite Collin’s best efforts. “Still hard for me. So perfect.”
He cut off the flow of water and eased the nozzle from Collin’s ass. Then he rubbed Collin’s hips and down the sides of his upper legs.
“We’re not leaving the shower this time, kitten.”
Collin flinched. Somehow, he’d known this was coming. He tried to lower his head, but he couldn’t. The hooks in his nose brought him up short. He whimpered.
“This isn’t about cleaning, pretty one. This is you being my good kitten.”
He moved away from Collin’s rear, washed his hands at one of the water heads on the other side where Collin couldn’t see him, and then knelt by Collin’s head. Collin still couldn’t turn his head and see his dom’s face. He had to settle for what he could see out of the corners of his eyes. Mr. Reevesworth reached under Collin and grabbed the head of Collin’s cock. He ran his fingers over the tip. That, ah…Collin managed less than twenty seconds before the casual teasing brought tears of frustration to his eyes.
Mr. Reevesworth slid two fingers of his other hand into Collin’s mouth. “Such a good kitten. I haven’t had to remind you not to talk in so long.”
Collin made frustrated sounds in the back of his throat. Of course, he wasn’t talking. He’d been told not!
“I know, I know. You’re a good boy.” Mr. Reevesworth stroked Collin’s tongue. “You’re such a good boy, such a good kitten, and in about a minute, you’re going to let all that clean water gush out of your pretty little hole and show your master what an obedient little cat you are.”
Collin tried to duck his head and hide again. The hooks brought him up short even though Mr. Reevesworth let his fingers slip from Collin’s mouth.
“No hiding, kitten. You have to stand there, all proud and pretty with your head up and show me what a good kitten you are. With your hard little cock showing your master just how much you love pleasing him.”
He tickled Collin’s cock again and reached lower, cradling Collin’s balls in his hands.
Collin moaned a wordless complaint or perhaps a plea. He tried to close his thighs, and the spreader bar brought him up short at once. He groaned and released his muscles back into the position in which he’d been placed, back arched, head up, thighs spread.
“Good boy. I can see many more hours like this for you.”
Collin whimpered. It was taking all his control not to buck up into Mr. Reevesworth’s hand. It had been weeks since anyone had handled his cock. Every stroke was amplified.
But no, he was not going to beg for more touches there. He was not going to do it. He was proud of the fact he wasn’t helpless to his dick and desire or orgasms. There were so many more interesting things than cumming.
Besides, the water in his belly was slightly more urgent.
Mr. Reevesworth chose that moment to stroke Collin’s nipples. Collin’s eyes rolled back in his head. Every bit of him was sensitive now. No wonder it was an act of trust for a dog to roll over and show their belly. Every bit of Collin’s underneath was soft and vulnerable. And so, so available.
His dom’s hand trailed away from his cock and tested the roundness of Collin’s belly. “Let’s not let this get too deep into you. Time to empty that pretty little hole.”
No. No. No. Collin’s breath sped up.
“It’s just water now, pretty kitten. And I’ll wash you all over again just so you don’t worry.” Mr. Reevesworth stood up and stepped back. “Remember, you’re just a kitten, darling, a pretty little sex kitten. Do as you’re told. Look at you, standing so pretty on all fours for me. When we get out, we’ll put on your ears and tail and your leash, and we can go out into the living room. Émeric is going to love petting you and giving you treats. I bet you’ll roll over and let him scratch that soft tummy of yours, your little paws in the air. And then we’ll edge you so you look exactly like what you are, a needy sex pet.”
Mr. Reevesworth knelt and leaned toward Collin’s ear. “Debase yourself, kitten. Show me that you can be nothing but my pretty pet. Show me that you’re willing to give up being human today and just be owned. Give it up, baby. Suffer for me. Be beautiful and free for me.”
Collin’s chest heaved as much as it could. His eyes rolled back in his head. He wanted to suffer for his dom. He wanted to give this man anything he asked for. He wanted…to be beautiful and free for him. Even if he didn’t understand.
Water flowed out him and over his taint and his balls, taking with it something Collin no longer had the presence of mind to name. He didn’t care any longer. He stayed there, on his hands and knees, back arched, head held high, and felt stillness. The bondage, the chains, and the bar between his thighs no longer held him; they augmented him. His head was quiet.
Mr. Reevesworth stroked his back, praising him softly. He reached under Collin and massaged his belly, testing to make sure all the water was out, and that was as it should be. He was Mr. Reevesworth’s pet. It was merely an understood matter that the man would handle him. His hole accepted Mr. Reevesworth’s finger and then a second finger. They pressed down in his channel, forcing Collin to lower his rear toward the floor, and then spread him from the inside, draining just a little more water from his channel. The movement made him have to tip his head back so far that all he could see was the ceiling. Helplessness swept through him, the pressure on his nose creating a sense of being strung up to be emptied.
The feeling of being handled. It filled his head, making static run in his ears, but still that silence, that peace, was there. There was no reason his master should not empty him in whatever manner he saw fit. He stayed still, Mr. Reevesworth’s fingers working inside him until the man was satisfied. He tapped Collin on his rear and half lifted Collin back onto his hands and knees.
“Good boy. Just like that, stay there.” Mr. Reevesworth turned on the water via the handheld sprayer but left it hooked to the wall. The water hit the bottoms of Collin’s feet but not the rest of him. Mr. Reevesworth soaped Collin from shoulders to ankles, taking extra time with his groin and ass. Then he unhooked the nozzle and sprayed Collin’s head, taking care to keep the water off Collin’s face. He rubbed shampoo in with one hand, using the other to keep Collin’s head still.
Collin’s nose thanked him.
