Page 29 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
The pressure around the base of Collin’s cock disappeared. He swayed, dizzy with shock, still sucking desperately. They would not take this from him. He was going to have it. It was his. Someone, it must have been Damian, grabbed the base of Collin’s buzzing tail and pushed it into him. Then out and back in. He was being fucked.
Collin tightened his knees around Mr. Moreau’s legs and gripped the man with his hands, crying around the cock in his mouth. He was not going to lose. He couldn’t lose. He was going to make his dom give him his cum. It was his. He’d been good. He needed it. And yet his hole was filling him with sensations. Humiliation poured into his limbs, making him weak. Desperate, he swallowed Mr. Moreau’s cock, drool and tears mixing in trails down his skin.
“Damn it, Richard, I…had…plans,” Mr. Moreau growled above Collin’s head.
Mr. Reevesworth’s laugh filled Collin’s ears, competing for the hazy spaciness of the moment. He was a throbbing being of need, suckling desperately as pressure built under his skin. Something was going to break any moment, and it was going to him.
Mr. Reevesworth’s fingers threaded through Collin’s hair, pushing him down. Collin’s body bucked, seeking air. Damian’s hand twisted, pulling at his cock even as the tail was shoved home again, stabbing Collin deep inside.
He broke. He had no skin. He was just light and energy, and it was expanding out of him, shredding the barriers between him and the room. Cum filled his mouth, and he was falling, limbs undone and without any strength. He was blind, and he could hear light. He could smell music and taste touch.
“Rest, pet. Catch your breath. It’s all right. Just rest.”
Darkness floated at the ends of Collin’s fingertips, flirting with consciousness. He watched it, detached and without thought. A heartbeat throbbed in his ears, and there was a warm hand running down his back. Tears leaked out of his eyes as if there was too much inside. It felt like another form of orgasm, pure crystalline relief running out of his soul.
“Beautiful boy.” Lips caressed his cheek.
He turned his head, seeking those lips with his own. “Master.”
“Oh, precious boy. I am never letting you go.”
Laughter bubbled up in Collin’s chest, and then he was sobbing, reaching for his master with both arms. And strong limbs were lifting him up, cradling him against a solid chest. He didn’t know what to do with his limbs. Mr. Reevesworth caught his wrists in one hand, pinning his arms. Collin slumped, grateful, but he still felt too free, like was going to spin out to space.
“Damian, bring me a full set of cuffs, thighs too.”
Soft padded leather wrapped around his wrists, ankles, and thighs, tethering him to gravity, and then he was lying on his side on the couch, his wrists snapped together and tethered to his collar and his ankles linked and attached to a chain that ran up between his legs and linked to his wrists. It was so short his heels were folded against his buttocks and his thighs were locked together.
Mr. Reevesworth eased him into his lap. He cleaned Collin’s face with a soft cloth. Mr. Moreau carefully withdrew the tail from Collin’s ass. Collin flinched.
“He’s a little tender, Richard.”
“Put some salve up there. We’ll leave him empty for a few hours and check to see how he’s doing.”
Mr. Moreau grunted and stepped away. A moment later, his fingers sank gently into Collin’s hole.
Impossibly, Collin felt his cock trying to fill again. He tucked his knees up tighter to his chest. He squeezed his ass muscles, trying to thank Mr. Moreau. Mr. Moreau rubbed his ass cheek affectionately.
With time, the world became a little more real, and gravity settled. He was inside a body again, his own body. His vision cleared by degrees. Damian was sitting on the coffee table by his head, his hand on Mr. Reevesworth’s knee, as if they had been talking. Collin blinked at him and then at the electrolyte drink in his hand. He tried to reach for it. The link binding his wrists to his collar brought him up short.
Collin mewed and opened his mouth, staring at the drink.
Damian chuckled and glanced at Mr. Reevesworth. “Is he ready, sir?”
“Go ahead, pup.”
Damian held a straw to Collin’s lips. Straws were amazing. Straws were everything. No, liquid was everything. Thirst rose up like a beast. Collin strained, trying to gulp through the straw.
“Slow, kitten. Take your time.”
Collin emptied the bottle and flopped his head back down onto Mr. Reevesworth’s arm.
Damian stepped away but came back and sat close. Mr. Moreau returned and sat at Collin’s feet.
Mr. Reevesworth tapped on Collin’s lips. “Check in, pet.”
Collin blinked up at him softly. “Master?”
“How are you feeling, Collin?”
