Page 9 of Collin: Episodes 10-12
Collin giggled. “Did Mr. Moreau like that, sir?”
Mr. Reevesworth laughed silently, just his body rumbling against Collin’s. “Yes. Sometimes he made me fight for it. Franklin never kept staff in the house on those days. There were mornings when I had to chase him down, but after a night like that, he’d always let me have him. And then he’d beg for Franklin.”
Collin smiled into the pillow. Thinking of his master and sir as younger men, chasing each other naked through a house, made his position seem more seemly. He tugged a little on the cuffs, just to feel the reassuring resistance.
“You loved Franklin.”
“Deeply.”
“I think I love him too even though I’ll never meet him.”
“You’ve met some of him. He’s in us. Men like him never die.”
His wrists were still cuffed to the head of the bed when Collin woke, but at some point in the night, Mr. Reevesworth had slipped out of him, released his cock and balls, and rolled over onto his stomach, an arm and leg pinning Collin to the mattress. Collin lay there, feeling the weight of his master on top of him, the slight ache in his hole from being used, and the security of being chained. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay here, like this, feeling peaceful and content. Sure, there was a whole world beyond the white sheets and soft mattress, but he didn’t need, nor want, it right then. At some point, his bladder was going to force him to get up and hunger would make demands, but none of that was present.
He pushed it out of his mind and it… went.
He almost flinched. His head was…quiet. Peaceful. He closed his eyes, listening to Mr. Reevesworth breathe softly behind him, feeling the man’s heartbeat against his back. It lulled him back to sleep.
The next time he woke it was to two slick fingers sliding into his ass. He started to lift his head, but his master’s voice whispered in his ear, “Hush, boy, go back to sleep. Master just wants to use his pet before he gets up. You keep sleeping. Just rest, little one.”
That floaty, peaceful feeling wafted through him again. Hands turned him fully onto his belly, leaving him face down with his head between his outstretched arms, still chained to the headboard. Mr. Reevesworth spread Collin’s legs himself, arranging him as he wanted, parting Collin’s ass cheeks with one hand and smearing lube into his hole.
Then he sank inside. “Just keep sleeping, pretty boy. Master’s going to take care of himself in this soft little hole and then go shower. Then he’ll come back and wake you up.”
Collin hid his smile against the sheets and let himself make one tiny whimper before relaxing. It was like nothing else he’d experienced before, laying there, limp and pliant, with his eyes closed. Mr. Reevesworth lifted himself up on his arms, barely touching Collin anywhere but where he was buried in Collin’s ass and where their thighs met. In and out, a steady rhythm, neither fast nor slow.
As if he was jerking off.
A blush spread from Collin’s face, down his neck and arms. His dick stayed limp under him, as if it were under Mr. Reevesworth’s direct order to keep sleeping. All of him felt soft, loose. Above him, Mr. Reevesworth’s breath sharpened. He ground deeper into Collin on the downward push, his hips stuttering now and then. There was a soft groan and three more deep fucks. Then warm cum painted Collin from the inside. Mr. Reevesworth heaved a deep sigh and drew out slowly. He knelt between Collin’s legs and spread Collin’s cheeks with his thumbs. It was all Collin could do to stay still and pliant as if he were still asleep. Mr. Reevesworth rubbed his fingers through the cum and slick, smearing it around Collin’s hole and the cleft of his ass.
Filthy. And… Collin’s thoughts skittered off into feelings and sensations, losing touch with language. The objectification was heady. The feeling of being desired and used and wanted filled him up and left him spinning as if he were in a dream state.
Mr. Reevesworth leaned down, brushing a kiss on the small of Collin’s back. “Such a good boy.” He moved to the edge of the bed and left it, pulling the covers up over Collin as he exited, leaving Collin wrapped in warmth and softness.
A moment later, the shower in the bathroom turned on and sounds of brushing teeth and the toilet flushing joined the morning symphony.
Collin drowsed, exactly as his master had left him. If his wrists had been free, he might have fretted, but the cuffs were silent, clear orders. He was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing exactly what he had been ordered to do, pleasing the person he most needed to please. No fight. No struggle. No failure.
He squeezed his hole, just to feel the soft ache and the stickiness of cum.
Mr. Reevesworth came out of the bathroom on bare feet and sat on the edge of the bed. He threaded his fingers into Collin’s hair and rubbed his head. “Morning, little one.”
Collin turned to face him, blinking and smiling. “Good morning, Master.”
“How do you feel?”
Collin wiggled against the sheets. “Sticky.”
Mr. Reevesworth chuckled. His hand ghosted under the covers and over Collin’s ass. Collin pushed up into his palm. Mr. Reevesworth sank one finger into Collin. “Are you sore?”
“Only a little.”
“Let’s check.” Mr. Reevesworth pulled back the covers and held Collin’s cheeks apart, spreading his hole. “You’re slightly pinker than normal but perfectly whole. I’ll put salve on you after the shower. How are you feeling in your head? Are you ready for the cuffs to come off?”
Collin curled his legs up toward his chest. “I think I’d be happy to wear them all day, but that’s not really why we’re here, sir.”
“You certainly won’t get a full shower attached to the bed.” Mr. Reevesworth produced the key and undid one cuff, but he reattached the cuff around Collin’s wrist after releasing the chain from the headboard. His fingers kneaded up and down Collin’s arms, working out the stiffness.
