Page 11 of Collin, Episodes 10-12 (The Residency Boys #4)

Mr. Reevesworth stilled as if finally satisfied. He stroked Collin’s back and leaned forward so he could see Collin’s face.

“Do you remember your safe word, kitten?”

“Yes, sir. If I need to, say red.”

“And will I be mad if you need to say your word, pet?”

“No, sir.”

“Good boy.” Mr. Reevesworth went back to petting Collin, soft gentle strokes over his ribs, passes over his nipples, a finger down the back of Collin’s neck, and another over his throat.

That floaty, peaceful feeling was coming back. His body relaxed, his legs no longer even trying to find purchase. Maybe his feet were going a little numb, but he no longer cared, and his knees ached a little. But he would hang like this off his master’s cock as long as he wanted.

“I’m going to fuck you now, pretty boy. You don’t need to do anything, just lay here and take it; that’s all I want from you right now. Don’t try to make me come. Don’t try to hold a position. Don’t try to keep yourself in any particular place. That’s what I will do. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Collin had to swallow twice just to get the words out, and even so, they were slurred. He felt drunk. Only Mr. Reevesworth’s cock in his ass and grip on his hips, combined with Damian’s knee and hands, were tethering him to reality.

“Relax, Collin. Damian will make sure your head is safe. Let go.” Mr. Reevesworth stroked his hands up and down Collin’s skin.

Collin breathed out, letting his fingers curl loosely, his arms hanging.

“More, Collin. Just breathe out.”

“My legs…sir.” Collin struggled to form words. “My knees hurt when they jerk.”

“His knees are probably getting bounced in directions they can’t bend, sir,” Damian whispered.

“Thank you for speaking up, kitten. Good call, Pup.” Mr. Reevesworth reached down and grabbed Collin’s right ankle and then his left, folding Collin’s legs so that his heels were pressed against the edge of his butt.

Then he wrapped his arms around Collin’s legs and hoisted him back, spreading Collin wider.

A whine escaped him at the sensation of being spread, but his body melted into gelatin in his master’s hands. This was perfect. There was no more strain on his knees. The last bit of tension slipped from his body. He didn’t need to try to do anything. He was safe.

Weakness rolled through him as Mr. Reevesworth pulled out of his hole and sank back in to the root.

He was a rag doll, putty in his master’s hands.

Softness and contentment muddled his thoughts.

He bounced against the couch, only staying in place because of Mr. Reevesworth’s grip on his hips.

Only able to breathe because Damian was holding his head.

His master’s dick moved back and forth inside him, never completely leaving, never not using him, always stretching him.

He was being held; he was being handled. The bodies around him were strong and solid. Nothing else mattered.

Mr. Reevesworth went gently for a few minutes, plunged back almost carefully but always deeply, pausing now and then to rotate his hips, stretching Collin’s hole.

“Good, kitten, just like that. I’m going to really have you now. Be good for me and take it, pretty boy.”

He pressed his lips to Collin’s shoulder and straightened up.

Caught in the moment, limp and pliant, Collin didn’t move. He waited. No, waiting wasn’t the right word. He just was. Waiting implied trying, and he was doing nothing.

Mr. Reevesworth’s grip on his hips tightened as he pulled Collin a little higher, drew out of his hole, and then drove back in hard.

The force slammed the air from Collin’s lungs.

He made a soft sound like a squishy toy.

Before he thought to draw air, his master had pulled back and driven back in.

Collin wheezed lightly, catching air as the dick pulled back from his channel.

Fast. Hard. Mr. Reevesworth fucked into him, holding him down, holding him up.

And he took it. He had to breathe with the ins and outs, but he could.

Something like sleepiness and deep acceptance seeped into him even as the moment, the shaking, the force, and the burn overloaded his senses.

This was where he wanted to be. This was what he wanted to be doing.

Hanging here, railed from the inside out.

Claimed. Used. Wanted. The knowledge and certainty of that was being pounded into every level of his being. There was a burn with being used this hard and fast. His balls tingled and ached from being slapped by the balls behind him.

Mr. Reevesworth groaned and pressed in, hips pumping in tiny jerks, seeking more depth. Far inside Collin, his cock twitched, filling him with his spunk and marking him.

Mr. Reevesworth leaned down and pressed his lips to Collin’s back. He was breathing hard, and for a moment, that was all, just the hard, lean body with a pulsing heartbeat pressed against Collin’s spine. Warm and wet with sweat, drenching Collin in his scent.

He could barely breathe, and he didn’t care.

Slowly and with care, Mr. Reevesworth straightened up.

It felt like he reached for something though he was still holding his cock inside.

A moment later, he pressed something against Collin’s taint and started to withdraw.

As soon as his cock was out, he pushed something rubbery, shallow, and wide back into Collin, keeping his hole stretched and trapping the cum inside.

Guh . Something submissive and weepy rolled through Collin. Marked and owned. So owned.

Mr. Reevesworth patted Collin’s ass and then gathered Collin’s legs and rolled him up in his arms in a bridal carry.

Collin gasped, dizzy, finally able to draw a full breath.

His vision blurred from being suddenly lifted and turned.

Lips pressed down on his forehead, his nose, and then his mouth. Blind, he tried to kiss back.

“So good for me, kitten.”

Collin smiled back tentatively. The drunk, floaty feeling was there. He was so deep, so lost.

“Now you can have kitten time, Pup.” Mr. Reevesworth leaned over the couch. And then he was rolling Collin out of his arms and onto Damian.

Collin sputtered. He tried to roll over with limbs that barely wanted to work. “Master?”

Are you leaving me?

“You… you…” His master had just dumped him. Over. The couch. One, how strong was Mr. Reevesworth? And two, cuddles? Aftercare?

He blinked, confused and bereft. But others were taking decisions out of his hands.

Damian was arranging himself so that he was lying on his back on the couch with Collin stretched out on top of him.

He cradled Collin’s head in his hand, guiding Collin to lie down, and tucked his head under his chin.

Collin rubbed water out of his eyes. There was a shadow, and then there was his master, sitting on the coffee table beside him and Damian with his pants refastened, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He had one of the couch blankets folded and tucked under his arm.

On his face was a lazy and satisfied grin. “Good boys, both of you. Such a good kitten.” He ran his hand down Collin’s naked back, soothing him. “So good for me.”

There were no words. He was still wrung out and weak. Still dizzy. But his master was still there.

Mr. Reevesworth stood and bent over him. He pulled Collin’s back cheeks apart, checking the plug and settling it more firmly inside him.

Collin pressed his face against Damian’s chest and whimpered. Damian stroked his hair.

Mr. Reevesworth let go and opened the blanket. He spread it over both of them, checking that it covered their feet, then came back and sank down on the coffee table where Collin could see him. He reached out, stroking Collin’s cheek with his finger. “Thank you, pet.”

He looked more relaxed than he had all week since Monday.

A tiny thrill curled like a bud in Collin’s chest and grew.

Collin smiled back. Somehow, he felt like he was going to cry, but it wouldn’t be bad crying.

And he wasn’t being abandoned. All his master had done was fetch a blanket and pull up his pants. He was fine. He was loved.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Mr. Reevesworth smiled wider. “You really are a gift, Collin.”

Collin huffed, embarrassed. He wasn’t the gift. Mr. Reevesworth was the one who kept giving him gifts, kept making him feel this safe and… loved . He nipped gently at Mr. Reevesworth’s hand, managing to catch one of his fingers, then he pulled that finger into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

Mr. Reevesworth smiled, that soft look in his eyes still, and offered Collin a second finger alongside the first. Collin took them both, sucking on them, his eyes on his master’s face. He felt like he was going to sleep, but it wasn’t that. This was subspace, he knew that much now.

I’m good. Please understand, master. I’m good even though I don’t have words. I like this. I NEED this. It’s okay to do this to me.

Mr. Reevesworth took Collin’s hand from Damian’s cheek and cupped it between both of his palms, kissing the ends of Collin’s fingers.

“Thank you for taking your master’s cock so well, kitten. He feels much better now.”

“More relaxed, sir?” Collin whispered.

“Much more relaxed, precious boy.”

Collin’s lips twitched with soft amusement. “Then you should do that more often, sir.”

“Hmm. Would you like that? I come home, bend you over wherever you are, use your hole to cum until I feel relaxed?”

Collin blushed. He could see it now, being in the kitchen, suddenly getting pressed down on the counter. Would his sir be mad about the cooking space getting dirty?

Mr. Reevesworth scratched Collin’s scalp, driving away thoughts and making Collin’s eyes start to slide shut. “Now be good and cuddle Damian for me. He needs kitten time as much as I did.”

Collin nuzzled into Damian’s chest. “Yes, sir. I can give Damian kitten time.” He wrapped his arms around his kink brother.

Maybe they do need me.

Mr. Reevesworth smiled and stood. “I’m going to make juice and tea. I’ll be right back.”

Breath by breath, Collin came back to himself out of subspace. The raw, fucked-open, and vulnerable feeling, however, remained. He snuggled deeper into Damian but lifted his head a little. “You…don’t think less of me…do you? After that?”

Why couldn’t his thoughts stick to one decision? He knew they wanted him. He’d just felt so good, but now he felt shy.

Damian dipped his chin down as far as he could to look back at Collin, then raised his hand, and brushed Collin’s hair out of his eyes. “No, kitten. Not at all.”

“But…”

“Hush. Stop. You’re strong, really strong, bro. And beautiful. Giving. I wish I had my own Collin. But…” He smiled, his eyes lighting up from the inside. “I’d still need my brother; even if I had my own sub, I’d still want you here like this.”

“Like a pet?”

“Like a person I like and who I get to pet.” He squeezed Collin harder to make his point.

Collin put his head down. Thoughts rolled around inside of him for several minutes. In the kitchen, the sound of water heating up in the electric kettle started up.

“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked hesitantly. Where did that come from? Gah, he needed to find his filter. Fucking his brains out seemed to make it go away.

Damian patted Collin’s ass under the blanket, making the plug jostle. “Sometimes. You’re objectively good-looking, and I’m a man who likes sex. But right now, all I want to do is cuddle.”

“You’re hard.” Collin flexed his hips, pressing down on Damian’s arousal.

“Of course, I’m hard, but right now, I want cuddles more than I want anything else.”

That actually kind of made sense. And Damian’s arms felt good. He was starting to feel warm and lax under the blanket with Damian’s added heat.

He yawned, slow and heavy, his body dragging him down toward true drowsiness that wasn’t subspace. “Wake me up when Mr. Moreau gets home? Please?”

“Shh, Collin. Rest. I got you. We got you.”

Collin closed his eyes. Right then, a small weight landed on his back. “Uh, Artemis. Hey.”

Damian freed a hand to pet the cat on Collin’s back.

Four little paws kneaded him through the blanket, and then the warm little body curled right between his shoulder blades and purred.