Page 57 of Collin: Episodes 10-12
“Master!” Collin spluttered. “I can walk.”
“Yes, and I can also carry you.” Mr. Reevesworth attempted to whistle as he strode into the bathroom. He wasn’t very good at it. Whatever tune he was attempting, he was dropping half the notes. Not that Collin was helping, his hands scrambling unsuccessfully for purchase. This was why people should wear clothes so he had something to grab onto when they picked him up and carted him off.
“I should really have a dog bath installed in here.” Mr. Reevesworth said, depositing Collin on the bathroom counter on his hands and knees. “Right after we finally get that cat tree installed.”
Collin sank down on his haunches and glared. “Why?”
“Because then I could bathe you without bending over. Linda has one in her house, not that she uses it often. She usually sends Maribel out for baths with her groomer. I’ll ask our house manager to look into it.”
“Are you going to be bathing me that often?”
“You do make an excellent pet, little one. Stay.” Mr. Reevesworth ruffled Collin’s hair and went off to start running the shower. It seemed to take him longer than necessary. And Collin had a good idea why. The soft clanging sounds were a strong giveaway.
Collin blew air out his nose. He eyed his toothbrush. It would be nice to brush his teeth, but Mr. Reevesworth was most definitely in the mood to do everything himself. Collin kept his hands away from anything remotely tool-like. Instead, he watched his master’s excellent glutes and back muscles as the man settled towels over the warming rod and emptied his bladder.
“Do you need to use the toilet, pet?”
Collin whined. Mr. Reevesworth was being ridiculous on purpose.
“Oh, are you already falling into pet space? Are you losing your words, little one?” Mr. Reevesworth shook his cock dry, washed his hands, and turned to Collin, running his hands into Collin’s hair and scratching him behind the ears.
“I can talk,” Collin muttered. He wanted to be mad, really, just out of a sense of pride or perhaps lingering pressure to do for oneself. But it was so hard. He was going to do whatever his master wanted, and he was going to enjoy it. Probably. Okay, very likely at least by the end.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to unless I’m checking in with you or you need to safe word. Even then, you have your safe signals if words are too hard.”
Collin groaned. Anyone rubbing his head short-circuited his resistance to almost anything. It was almost as if Mr. Reevesworth wanted to take his words away. He closed his eyes and leaned into the head scratches. Fuck. He might actually be a cat.
Mr. Reevesworth brushed his teeth, then Collin’s. At least he let Collin spit his own toothpaste out and rinse his own mouth.
“Toilet.” Mr. Reevesworth lifted Collin off the counter and carried him across the room. He set him down in front of the toilet and grasped Collin’s cock in his thumb and first finger, pointing him at the bowl. “Go on.”
Collin looked down and away. His doms were going to do much, much worse with him this weekend. He knew it. They were both too pleased with themselves. So why was this so hard?
Mr. Reevesworth wrapped himself around Collin from behind, still holding his cock aimed at the toilet. His other arm came up and wrapped around Collin’s shoulders, chest, and upper arms, pinning him.
He growled softly into Collin’s ear. “Relieve yourself, pet.”
Collin’s knees tried to buckle, and his bladder released. “Sir.” Collin groaned. “Did you have to?”
Mr. Reevesworth merely towed Collin toward the shower. Sure enough, he had been up to something while he was turning on the water earlier. A pair of waterproof cuffs dangled on a chain from the ceiling. Collin shot his dom a look and moved under them. Wordlessly, he held up his wrists, waiting.
Mr. Reevesworth grinned. Holding Collin’s gaze, he fastened the cuffs around both of Collin’s wrists. “So well behaved, kitten. You learn so fast.”
Collins huffed and looked away. Mr. Reevesworth’s smile was a touch gleeful and almost insufferable.
At least with his wrists wrapped in restraints, everything was a little easier to handle. He didn’t have to cooperate now because, well, he had to cooperate. Wait, that didn’t make sense. There was certainly a better way to say that.
“You know you were about to tell me to do it, sir.” Collin gave up thinking and whispered.
“Such a good boy,” Mr. Reevesworth murmured. He stroked Collin’s cheeks and then ran his hands down Collin’s back and chest and down his flank.
“I thought you were going to use the nose hooks again, sir.”
“Not today.” Mr. Reevesworth reached toward the shower shelf and snagged a reusable water bottle, one of the larger ones that could hold thirty-two ounces. “You need to be hydrated, especially before I clean you on the inside, and the human body is always low on water upon waking. Drink.” He held the bottle to Collin’s lips.
Collin drank until he thought his stomach was going to start to hurt if he drank anymore. Mr. Reevesworth recapped the bottle and put it on the shelf again. He wetted one of the loofahs with soap and water and started to rub Collin down.
It was nice, like a massage. Collin closed his eyes. If his hands had been free, it would have felt awkward, like he should have been doing something for his master, but shackled like this, it was very clear he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything except taking what was given.
