Page 24 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
The hard cock inside Mr. Moreau’s pants next to his cheek would work. He turned his head and mouthed at Mr. Moreau through the fabric.
“Naughty, pet.” Mr. Moreau slapped him lightly on the cheek. Collin paused to read his face. That slap had been very light. And the man was grinning. Nothing read like Mr. Moreau actually wanted him to stop.
Collin went back to nibbling. He found the draw string for the man’s pants and caught it with his teeth, pulling it out as far as he could and getting the other end too. He got it entirely undone before. Mr. Moreau flicked his nose.
“What are you doing, mischief maker?” You’re supposed to be lying here, taking your ten minutes. It’s punishment.”
Collin tried something he could never remember trying on anyone before. He let his eyes get as big as he could and sent Mr. Moreau the saddest puppy gaze he could manage. Well, kitten gaze, perhaps.
Mr. Moreau laughed. “Oh, is that how it is? You need it that bad, do you?”
Collin sniffled pitifully and blinked for good measure, then went back to work. And it was work. He had to use his teeth to pull the pants down and even then, with the help of his forepaw—not a very dexterous helping hand because, duh, not currently a hand—he was still faced with the man’s briefs. He huffed in exasperation and looked up. Maybe Mr. Moreau would help?
“You want it that bad, really?”
Collin nodded. Then whimpered for real as pure need swept through his body from his hole where the dildo was pummeling away inside of him.
Mr. Moreau pulled away the last layer of cloth and freed his cock. “There you go, kitten. You can suck if you need to.”
Collin latched on. For a moment, it felt like immediate relief even though it most certainly was not. It was a distraction. But one that made him feel spacey and submissive and even less like any version of himself that stressed about big issues, or had to deal with traffic, or worried about disappointing anyone. Maybe it was okay to let that version of himself be taken away for the day. He wasn’t very useful.
Mr. Moreau’s cock filled his mouth, fat and too long to get all in properly, clean smelling and manscaped. It was heavy on his tongue and tasted like the man smelled, and that by itself was calming. He curled up on his side suckling.
“You can suck, kitten but I’m not going to be coming. I have plans for later. And they most certainly include your ass.”
Collin made a disappointed whimper but didn’t stop. Just sucking was nice.
At some point, the torture of his back passage stopped. It must have been the ten-minute mark. Mr. Moreau was reliable that way. Collin relaxed, panting a little around the cock in his mouth but not letting go of it. He was hard and tender, and anyone walking by would be able to see how needy he was. He didn’t want to even look to see what his cock looked like now. Probably like how those awful movies from the seventies liked to depict their imaginary barbaric fertility gods.
Mr. Moreau, however, had no such inhibition. He wrapped his hand loosely around Collin and stroked. Collin flinched. Too much. Too much. So embarrassing.
Mr. Moreau lifted Collin’s thigh and gave his balls a swat. It had to have been light, but to Collin, it was anything but. He cried out and tried to curl inward, but Mr. Moreau stopped him at two points, the collar and by placing his leg in the way, so that Collin couldn’t bring up his knees. Collin flopped back on the couch and blinked up through tears at his dom.
“If I want to touch you, pet, I will. I see that you need some training. On your back, put your arms under you, and open your legs now.”
Collin obeyed, shaking and sniffling. Why, oh why, was his cock harder than ever, if anything? One would think that it would go down. But evidently, he liked pain just a bit too much for that reprieve. Lying like this made his dick point straight at his face, loud and proud. Or maybe just desperate and trapped.
Mr. Moreau reached down again, and Collin braced himself, eyes screwed shut. His dom’s hand wrapped around his length and stroked.
“Cry if you need to, kitten.”
Collin sniffled and shook his head.
“Are you very tender?”
Yes! Collin nodded emphatically.
“I like touching you when you’re tender.”
That made Collin pry open his eyes. He peered up at Mr. Moreau’s face.
“I do.” Mr. Moreau patted the tip of Collin’s nose and then stroked it. “It’s one of the many things you give to me, pet.”
Collin whimpered, but his body loosened, his legs falling a little more open and his shoulders relaxing. His cock was still throbbing and sensitive beyond belief, but it felt detached from him, and he floated, just a little, giving up that part of himself. It was a sensation he was starting to become familiar with, one he’d discovered when Mr. Reevesworth had first edged him and pinched his nipples.
Mr. Moreau stroked Collin a few more times and ran his index finger around the head of Collin’s cock before letting go. “Good, kitten. Now, is there anything you would like? I’m going to sit here and read my book. You can stay here or go back in your cage, or I can bring your bed out here for you.”
Collin wiggled onto his belly and glomped back onto Mr. Moreau’s cock, eyes on the man’s face. To make his answer very clear, he made loud swallowing sounds as well.
