Page 61 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
Fingers caressed his face, thicker than Mr. Reevesworth's. They had to be Mr. Moreau’s. He opened his eyes a fraction. It was Mr. Moreau. He had one hand on Collin’s ass and his other petting Collin’s face.
Collin opened his mouth and caught Mr. Moreau’s fingers between his lips, carefully covering his teeth so as not to bite.
“Such a polite petit chaton. Are you ready for more?”
Collin nodded, not letting go of the fingers in his mouth. Mr. Reevesworth laughed in the background.
Mr. Moreau raised his hand and brought it down again, but this time, he didn’t stop, the slaps coming steady but building with force. Collin had to let go of the fingers in his mouth and focus on breathing. His eyes slid closed, and he let the heat fill him up, spreading from his ass up to his head and then down his limbs.
“You blush so beautifully, Collin.” Mr. Moreau whispered. He rubbed his hand over Collin’s skin. It felt warm; all of him was warm. And his cock was hard.
“Just a little more, kitten. You’re warmed up now. The next set will sting.”
Collin nodded, quiet and loose.
The next strike did sting. A soft ache set in after it. Mr. Moreau had used his whole hand, and Collin could feel the imprint of it even after Mr. Moreau lifted his palm away from his warm flesh. He barely sucked in air through his nose before Mr. Moreau struck again on his other side.
And then it was just a steady litany of blows. He wasn’t counting. His ass burned. Helplessness rose up in his throat, and a tear ran out of the corner of his eye.
“Last five, precious boy,” Mr. Moreau whispered. He sounded reverent. His fingers spread Collin’s ass cheeks even farther. Collin whimpered and tossed his head.
The next swat came directly on his hole. The fight, if he had had any, ran out of him. His arms and legs went lax, and his hole opened and closed in shock.
“Two.”
Again, in the same place. By all that was good and right, please, could someone fuck him? He was so empty.
“Three.”
Collin groaned, arching his back, trying to get closer to someone or something. It burned deep down into his guts. The pain was making him loose and needy.
“Four.”
They could do anything to him. He didn’t care. He needed more.
“Five.” Mr. Moreau’s hand came down hard on the crease of Collin’s ass and then stayed there, cupping and covering him. So warm, so gentle after the sting. And so very much not inside.
Collin tossed his head, mutely complaining.
“Still, little one. This was punishment, not foreplay.”
True. Collin swallowed back a complaint and let himself relax on the table.
“Good boy.”
And that alone made it all worth it. Collin let his eyes flutter open and met his dom’s gaze. Mr. Moreau smiled. He stroked Collin’s ass and legs and up to his belly, soothing him.
“Stay still while we dish, little one. I want something pretty to look at. And you need to calm down before you eat.”
Collin whimpered at the idea of being left alone, but then Mr. Reevesworth laid his hand on Collin’s head, and all was right with the world.
Damian slept on the small bed again. No one wanted to be alone, but even Damian joked that no one could handle sleeping with him. He said it was enough to be able to hear everyone breathing. Collin hugged him and then crawled in bed and settled against his master. Mr. Moreau crawled in last, on the other side, and spooned Mr. Reevesworth from behind, keeping his promise from earlier.
Collin’s ass still tingled pleasantly, and his cock was safely locked up and not on display. He fell asleep almost instantly.
Wednesday morning arrived with rain. Despite the downpour, there were still reporters outside the atrium. They all followed their security out the service entrance once again instead of braving the swarm. Collin’s eyes were only mildly sore, but even so, he was still banned from using screens. That didn’t stop him and Ash from having pronunciation drills with Ms. Zhou though.
He spent the rest of the morning curled up under Mr. Reevesworth’s desk with headphones in, listening to lectures and podcasts recommended by his etiquette teacher. Etiquette class was during lunch, and this time, his instructor brought lunch and table settings with her. He learned to not poke his chopsticks into his rice bowl for Asian cuisine and which fork to use for salad for Western cuisine. The use of the knife and fork for Australian table manners was rather odd and cumbersome to his hands, but he managed to get through one course. His teacher suggested he practice at home with Mr. Moreau and Damian.
