Page 86 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
Émeric was already there. He had a bowl, eggs, and flour out on one counter. Richard gave Émeric a kiss and led Collin to the opposite end of the kitchen. There was something on one of the center islands. It looked like an odd mini version of a goat milking stand, made out of wood. It was bolted into the counter and had the three vertical pieces of wood with the center piece that could be tilted left and right, trapping the goat’s head in place so it couldn’t leave during milking. Collin only recognized it from trips to the local fair as a kid in school. The rest was entirely changed, though. A board with a pad extended about eighteen inches behind the headlock space.
“Up, up.” Richard pointed to steps beside the counter. Collin crawled up them. It wasn’t hard to figure out where his head was supposed to go. He slid his head through the slot. Naturally, his chest rested on the pad, taking the weight off his wrists. His Master slid the movable wood piece from one notch to another, locking Collin’s head in place.
“We’re not leaving you on all fours,” Richard said. He took leather straps and tied Collin’s arms to his sides in three places so that no one point took all the strain.
Collin’s cheeks turned pink. His belly swirled with humiliation. He was up on the counter, on his knees, bent over at the waist, chest pressed against the board, head locked in place. Having his arms pulled back and restrained against his sides made him feel even more vulnerable.
Richard locked something in place between Collin’s knees that he couldn’t identify, but it felt like two smooth circles cupping his inner thighs halfway between his knees and his groin so that he couldn’t move his legs forward, back, or together.
Then he unlocked the plug in Collin’s cock and pulled it out, removing the rest of the cage after.
“Do we want strawberry reduction or blackberry reduction this morning?” Émeric called from across the kitchen.
“Can we do both?” Richard answered.
“Certainly. You’ll have to keep an eye on them for me.”
Richard moved away, and pots and pans clattered here and there.
“I have the waffles, mon amour,” Richard said
“Thank you.” The sound of his doms kissing filtered through the echoey space.
His ir’s hands on his ass startled Collin. He hadn’t realized anyone was behind him. Émeric stroked his ass in a comforting way and then spread Collin’s hole with his thumbs, not speaking to him.
Collin’s cheeks tingled; embarrassment.
“We should make Dana a room of her own here, Richard,” Émeric said. He set a dish under Collin, clinically applied the nipple suckers to Collin’s chest, and pressed a syringe of lube into Collin’s hole.
Collin whimpered at the cold.
Émeric patted the back of Collin’s thigh. “There, there.”
Richard spoke between the sounds of whisking eggs by hand. “I was thinking the northeastern attic one. It has the window seat and the fantasy fireplace.”
Richard and Émeric continued to talk about the house, breakfast, and books they had been reading. Émeric’s fingers slowly opened Collin up and then started massaging the gland inside of Collin. Now and then, he would reach down and cup Collin’s dangling balls, weighing them in his palms.
“Is our milk boy giving any milk yet?” Richard asked, walking by with a pile of plates toward the breakfast room. “He was looking swollen and ready upstairs.”
“Not yet. Better hold the waffles for a few minutes.”
Collin whimpered.
Richard put down the plates and came back. He paused as he walked back toward the cooking area to pat Collin’s face. “I’m sure he’ll be good and let his milk down soon. Would you like me to pour you coffee?”
“Just today, I do feel like coffee. The dark roast, please. Can you bring it over when it’s ready? I’ll drink it while I get this milking done.”
Collin’s cheeks burned. He felt the first bit of gooey wetness seep out of his slit.
Richard brewed coffee by hand and brought over a cup for himself and a cup for his husband. He leaned against the counter next to Émeric. “Looks like you’re starting to get something.”
“Hmm…coffee.” Émeric continued stroking the inside of Collin’s hole, but it sounded like he was enjoying his morning cup. “Give me about five more minutes and you can start those waffles.”
Émeric drained Collin dry. He patted Collin’s ass, told him he was a good boy, and left with the tray. He came back with a padded, covered basket and set it down behind him where Collin couldn’t turn his head.
“Now that you won’t have any accidents, kitten”—Émeric kissed Collin’s shoulder—“we can play.”
Collin mewed. Being so clinically and absentmindedly emptied had left him feeling pathetically needy.
