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

“You have goose bumps or horripilation. I prefer that word.” Mr. Moreau ran a hand down Collin’s arm. “That’s normal. Your body will adjust. I’ll keep an eye on it. If you feel too cold, tell me or give me one of your signals.”

Collin nodded.

The syringe slid into his hole, replaced a moment later by the nozzle again.

And more water. Mr. Moreau reached between Collin’s legs and massaged his belly.

He hummed quietly to himself as he worked.

After a minute, he took Collin’s testicles in his hand, lifting and moving them up and down, pushing his balls apart inside Collin’s sac, testing their weight in his fingers, stroking the sensitive area between them and Collin’s hole.

Handled. Collin’s thoughts stuttered and turned to fog.

That emotion of total nakedness crested and rolled through him, mixed with abject objectification.

There was just something about being handled without verbal warning or any additional permission.

The way Mr. Moreau took Collin’s surrender at face value and trusted in his rights, amusing himself with Collin’s body and examining him as property.

It made him feel small and soft, bashful, perhaps, though maybe that was not a strong enough word. He wanted to hang his head and drop his eyes, but he was already lying on the floor.

“Up, up, pet.”

Collin had entirely missed the end of the water. They got through standing up, releasing, and lying back down again. As soon he was on his side, he relaxed, eyes closing. He didn’t even bother moving as Mr. Moreau pulled up his leg and chained him again.

Mr. Moreau stroked his back. “So good, pet. One more time.”

So much of his life he’d lived in his head, but lying there on the mat, his thoughts were places other than his head.

Not that he could really explain it. There was something about touch, about the past few weeks, how he’d started working out, thinking about food, dressing in different clothes, being naked with others, touching, and being touched.

There was more of him now. More nerves in his body experiencing more sensations. Wider awareness of his senses. Before he’d lived from the neck up, everything important rattling around in his skull, making it ache, but now he was living in his whole body, feeling things, following instincts.

Thoughts slipped through him and evaporated under his sir’s softly stroking hands. He arched into the touch, tossing his head and straining his back to get more of it. Fingers plucked at his nipples.

“Sir!”

Mr. Moreau chuckled. “Easy, boy.”

It was back to the shower for one more full-body soap and rinse. Collin shifted his weight from side to side and sucked his stomach in and out, looking down at it. He couldn’t touch it, of course, with his hands shackled above him again.

“I look flat, sir. It feels empty.”

Mr. Moreau was behind him. He reached around and stroked Collin’s belly. “A good anal rinse can do that. It means you’re ready to be played with.” He dragged his blunt fingernails up Collin’s side, catching every ticklish rib.

Collin shrieked, prancing in place. He couldn’t even rub away the tickling sensation, meaning it lingered. “Sir!”

Mr. Moreau laughed and wrapped both arms around him, kissing the side of Collin’s neck. “There, there, pretty boy.”

“Ugh, It still tickles, sir.”

Mr. Moreau ran the palms of his hands up and down Collin’s sides. “Better?”

Collin sniffed. “A little, yes.”

Mr. Moreau dried Collin off and left him chained in the shower with the door open so they could still see each other.

He dressed in what he had been wearing before, and then he took out a black leather lead and leather cuffs.

Coming back to the shower, he lowered Collin’s arms, exchanging the shackles for the soft leather, then fastened Collin’s wrists behind his back again, and added a set of cuffs to his ankles.

Using the end of the chain around Collin’s neck, he led him out to the bathroom counter.

In a tray on the counter was a leather band in the shape of a U, attached to a soft silicone bar. Mr. Moreau picked it up, unfastening the clasp on the leather band, and stepped behind Collin. He held the bar up in front of Collin’s face.

“Open, pretty boy.”

Collin parted his lips. Mr. Moreau pressed the silicone bar between Collin’s teeth.

It forced Collin’s jaws apart about an inch and spread his lips wide.

There would be no opening or closing his mouth.

Mr. Moreau buckled the leather behind Collin’s head.

He fiddled with the front of the gag, forcing it back farther between Collin’s teeth and carefully checking to make sure his lips weren’t caught.

He stepped around to Collin’s front and studied his work, stroking Collin’s cheek. “Perfect. You will drool. Pay it no mind.”

Collin gave a soft, resigned groan. Drooling was awful. Mr. Moreau only smiled.

He picked up a length of leather with clips on either side and clipped each end to the metal rings on the sides of the bar gag.

Holding the leather loop in his hand, he guided Collin’s head to the left and the right.

Just soft pressure, no words. But he had full and complete control of Collin’s head.

Fuck. Collin whimpered. Now he felt like a horse.

Mr. Moreau ignored him, eyes on Collin’s neck. He unlocked the chain and discarded it onto the counter. It certainly wasn’t needed now. Between the bar gag and what amounted to reins, Mr. Moreau had full control.

Mr. Moreau stroked down Collin’s arm and then cradled Collin’s chin in his hand. “What’s your color, pretty boy?”

Green. All green. But cuddles would be nice. Collin tapped out the rhythm for green to let his sir know. Not that he could really explain the cuddles with taps now that he was gagged. But he did take a step forward and pressed himself against his sir’s chest. It worked.

Mr. Moreau hummed, pleased. He wrapped both arms around Collin and kissed the top of his head. “There you go, good boy.”

They stood like that for several minutes.

Collin’s eyes slid shut, and he let himself lean against his sir.

It was a humbling sensation to feel his sir’s clothes against his own naked skin.

It didn’t seem to matter how many times it happened, the feeling of being humbled didn’t go away even if it was becoming familiar.

It was nice. Comforting.

“Come, kitten.” Mr. Moreau drew Collin away carefully, making sure he was balanced. He gathered the reins up short and held them in front of Collin’s face so he could see them. Then he started to walk.

Collin followed.

At the door of the bedroom, he almost balked, but Mr. Moreau walked straight through to the hallway, the reins tightening ever so little.

Collin leaned forward, following the pressure around his head.

He widened his stride, and then he was in the hallway, and it was too late to think about it.

Mr. Moreau turned left toward the playroom.

The door was open. The large wood table had been folded down in the center of the room.

It was lower than a normal table at the moment, about mid-thigh on Collin.

On top of it, toward one side, was a piece of metal furniture locked onto the surface of the table.

It was made out of dark square-shaped metal bars locked together.

Three horizontal I-shaped bars were on the table, in the shape of a large ‘I’, and three were vertical.

The first two vertical ones were short and topped with cushioned bars that mirrored the ends of the horizontal I-shaped bars beneath them.

They were attached to the center of the I-shaped bars, about twenty inches apart, almost like tiny mini hurdles for a puppy to bounce over.

The last vertical bar bent at the top in an L shape and a chain hung down from it.

It rose up from the left end of the far section and was off center.

But the chain reached the center. He had a very good idea where the chain was going to attach to him.

Mr. Moreau led Collin over to the contraption. His fingers made quick work of unhooking Collin’s wrist cuffs from each other. Then he pointed to the floor where there was a solid square wooden stool that matched the table and tapped the table.

Using his hands to steady himself, Collin used the stool and crawled up onto the table.

“Here, pet.” Mr. Moreau swept his hand above the little padded hurdles and tapped the hanging chain.

Collin crawled forward. When he reached Mr. Moreau, the first padded section was snug under his hips and the second one pressed against his chest. It was almost comfortable.

His hands naturally came to rest by the forward end of the “I,” and he could feel that the lower end of it met him at his ankles.

He could let the padded bars take his weight and stay like this for quite a long time.

Not to mention he could be restrained on all fours.

The cuffs on his wrists and ankles had O-rings on them that could easily be latched to the rings embedded in the main frame.

The device was perfectly designed to restrain a human semi-comfortably on all fours.

Mr. Moreau snapped the dangling chain to the back of the bar gag strap. Collin’s skin tingled. He turned his head side to side. The pressure transferred into his mouth via the bar gag. He could shake his head and lean backward, but he could not bend forward or drop down.