Episode 2 #4
“If you were not trying already to learn, you would not be here, beautiful boy. But for now, each time you try to ask, you are fighting through a throng of voices and experiences that desperately believe the opposite. These lessons were not wrong, Collin. They equipped you to survive in a certain time and place. The difficult facet of our minds, however, is that our subconscious does not easily recognize when another set of behaviors is more appropriate during a change of status. We resist, especially when it comes to lessons that were bought young and paid for with a high price.”
Collin swallowed.
Mr. Reevesworth brushed his thumb over Collin’s lips. “I’m going to take a radical step. I believe you can suffer it, for me and for yourself. Go to the kitchen. There is a bottle of juice and a bottle of water in the refrigerator, top shelf, center. Bring them here.
Collin rose, a little stiffly, and hurried to the kitchen. As promised, there were two chilled glass bottles, large ones. Together they were more than thirty fluid ounces. The glass was slick. He fetched two of the cloth napkins from the basket on the counter and retraced his steps.
Mr. Reevesworth nodded Collin back to his place on the floor. “You are going to drink both bottles. I will give you thirty minutes. You may sit however you like. In time, you will learn how to kneel for long periods of time. For now, you’re still on rest.
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Reevesworth nodded. “I am going to be working. I expect you to stay where you are. If you need anything, place your hand on my thigh and wait until I give you my attention. I expect silence.”
“Yes, sir.” Collin bit his lip. Was he not supposed to say that?
Mr. Reevesworth gave him a nod and turned his chair back to his screen. A moment later, there were clicks on the keyboard.
Collin opened the bottle of juice. Thirty minutes, and he couldn’t even see a clock. How was he supposed to know how much time had passed? Perhaps he should count in his head. No, that was most certainly an inaccurate way to track time.
Perhaps just starting was better.
Or you could ask.
Collin stopped mid-twist on the cap.
Asking.
He closed his eyes and finished opening the bottle.
This is not going to be easy.
He put the bottle to his lips and drank. It was some sort of green juice mixed with mango and vitamins. Too good to chug. He waited a moment and opened the water. Perhaps he could alternate.
At just halfway through both bottles, Collin’s bladder submitted a request for relief.
It made it politely at first. Collin bit his lip and denied the request. Surely, he could last longer.
It was only thirty minutes, then Mr. Reevesworth would check in on him.
He could hold it for however much longer it was.
He kept drinking.
His bladder submitted another request. The wording and details might have been somewhat stronger. Again, Collin denied it. He was an adult. He’d never asked an employer before to step out of engagement because of his bodily functions. It wasn’t going to happen now.
That’s not the point, and you know it. Besides, Mr. Reevesworth is NOT an employer.
Collin grimaced. He might be submitting, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to be the best he could be. That was the point, wasn’t it, to become better?
He kept drinking. The juice disappeared first. He wiped the bottle dry with the napkin and set it to the side. Now all he had to finish was the water.
His stomach cramped and sent a note upstairs, suggesting that releasing the traffic jam below would be helpful. Collin put a hand to his belly. It was just water. This was a simple task. A child could do it.
A child would cry and call this stupid.
Laughter crawled up his throat. He shoved it down into silence with another sip of water.
Muscles in his groin twinged. If this kept up, he was going to do something unsightly. He put down the bottle of water and leaned forward, cradling his stomach in his hands, trying to move as slowly as possible. All he wanted to do was rock back and forth.
“Collin.”
He jerked upright. “Sir.”
“Do you have something to ask me?”
Collin slumped. “How much time is left, sir?”
“Five minutes. Do you have anything left to drink?”
“A little, sir.”
Mr. Reevesworth hummed in the back of his throat and turned away. Collin cradled his belly, knees drawn up and splayed out to make room for his aching stomach, and lifted the last of the water.
The final iota of the liquid was sloshing in his throat when he put the bottle down, but at least it was inside him.
He put his head down on his arms.
A hand settled on his shoulder. “Collin, do you have anything to ask me?”
“Is it time, yet, sir?”
“Yes.”
Relief rushed through his back. “It’s all drank, sir.”
“Good work. I’m going to take a call in just a few moments. Stay there. If you need anything, just put your hand on my thigh.”
Horror rolled through him. His belly cramped, and his groin spasmed. He made his hands into fists.
Mr. Reevesworth picked up his phone, turning back to his desk.
The next ten minutes were hell. What Mr. Reevesworth discussed on the phone Collin could not have reported even if threatened with a knife. His entire being was focused on holding in and holding back. At some point, his hand snaked down between his legs and gripped himself.
He flinched when Mr. Reevesworth’s hand again came down on his shoulder. “Collin, do you have anything to ask me?”
How am I dizzy from drinking?
He blinked up at Mr. Reevesworth’s face. “How much longer, sir?”
“When I said I was going to keep you close, I meant it. I have a couple more hours here, then I thought we should stretch our legs, go out to eat. I usually go to Meti’s today.”
“I mean how much longer do you want me to stay here, sir?”
“Until I’m finished.”
“I—” Collin shuddered. “Sir, I really need to use the men’s room.”
Mr. Reevesworth gazed down at him for a long moment. “You’ve needed to use the toilet for quite a while, Collin.”
Collin gritted his teeth.
Mr. Reevesworth stood. He held out his hand. Collin took it.
Mr. Reevesworth pulled him to his feet. “Come.”
Collin followed Mr. Reevesworth’s out of the office, across the living room and into his bedroom. Mr. Reevesworth pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside. He motioned to the toilet.
Collin balked. The urge to go was so strong and yet with all the years of his life behind him, the thought of opening his pants and pissing while being watched was enough to freeze his feet to the floor.
“You have a need, Collin. Attend to it.”
He’s not going to leave.
Mr. Reevesworth closed the door and leaned against the counter, crossing his ankles, looking for all the world as if he had nowhere else to be.
Collin closed his eyes. You’re the one who didn’t ask for privacy.
And Mr. Reevesworth had already said what his intentions in regard to that were.
Fingers shaking, Collin opened his pants and shoved them down. The pain was too much. He sat and doubled up as the dam broke.
The room was eerily silent in the aftermath of the deluge. Collin stayed where he was, hands over his face.
Mr. Reevesworth was standing in front of him. His hands went into Collin’s hair, softly rubbing his scalp. “There you are, beautiful boy.”
Collin shook his head. He wasn’t beautiful. He was a man with his pants around his ankles sitting on a toilet being watched because he couldn’t hold it.
“It’s a hard lesson to rewrite, Collin. But rewrite it we shall. Perhaps next time, you will not force yourself to suffer so long. In the end, this is where you will always come to be.”
There were no words in Collin’s mouth. In time, Mr. Reevesworth stepped back. Collin stood up and put his clothes to rights. He flushed and washed his hands. Mr. Reevesworth opened the door. Together, they returned to the office.
Mr. Reevesworth pointed to the floor. Collin sank down slowly beside his chair. He felt strangely cold. Mr. Reevesworth retook his seat and turned back to his computer. His hand rested briefly in Collin’s hair again, and then he was back to his keyboard.
The man was only five inches away, but it was too far. Collin eased his buttocks across the rug until he ran into one of the wheel spokes on the chair. He leaned his head against the edge of the back. It was soft leather; vegan or otherwise, he couldn’t tell.
Thoughts drifted like ships without captains through his mind. In what seemed like no time at all, pressure built in his bladder once again.
He pressed his eyes closed. Five minutes. He could do five minutes. And then he would ask. One Mississippi, two Mississippi. He could do this. All he had to do was pace himself.
He lost track somewhere in minute three and started over. Lost track again, but surely that had been five minutes?
All he had to do was put his hand on Mr. Reevesworth’s thigh, and there would be relief.
That’s all he had to do. Move his hand. He was already clutching the chair. Another three inches and his need would be declared. Surely, Mr. Reevesworth already sensed he was in pain.
But that wasn’t the point. Was it?
Collin dropped his head against the brace of the arm of the chair. There were no more keys clicking above.
Just move your damn hand and ask, damn it.
He couldn’t. He let go of the chair and drew back, putting his back against the under-desk cabinet. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Such a stupidly simple thing, and…he couldn’t.
Tears, hot and angry, spilled out onto the sleeves of his shirt.
Mr. Reevesworth’s chair rolled back. Collin felt the man crouch down in front of him. “Collin. Collin. You can’t ask, can you? Not yet. But you will learn. This is why we’re having this lesson.”
Strong fingers forced his face out of his arms.
Collin glared through his tears. “It’s stupid. It’s just water.”
“It’s a basic need.”
“I should be able to control myself.”
“I was the one who ordered you to drink.”