Chapter 79

Brian peered out from under his lashes. Donald was soaked head to toe, his custom leather shoes waterlogged, sharp creased trousers and custom-made shirt trashed. Brian was so mortified, he didn’t know where to hide. He stood in the middle of the tub looking from side to side, seeking a quick exit.

Donald began to laugh. It was deep and hearty, a rich basso of a laugh. “Oh no you don’t my boy,” Donald purred. “You’re mine and you are going nowhere except straight into my bed this evening. I thought that perhaps you were too injured, too traumatized by the incident at the club for my attentions.

However, if you can create this much havoc, you are well enough.

You may speak whenever you wish.”

Brian grabbed a large towel, threw it around his waist, and fell to his Master’s feet, holding tight onto his legs and sobbing out incoherent promises.