I worked the soap into my hands before smoothing it over his shoulders in slow circles. Washing him wasn’t only about cleanliness. It was about reset. About reminding his body that it was ours to care for, not just to control.
Hayes took over when I moved lower, lathering Oliver’s hair and massaging his scalp with practiced fingers. Oliver’s eyes drifted shut instantly, his head tipping back against Hayes’s shoulder as he let out a happy noise.
“There you go,” Hayes whispered. “That’s it. Relax.”
I rinsed the soap from Oliver’s chest, watching the sudsy water slide over mine and Hayes’s cursive names. He shivered once, and I immediately stepped closer, blocking the cooler air from reaching him.
“Cold?” I asked.
“No,” he breathed. “Just… floaty.”
I smiled and dropped to my knees to wash his bottom half. Hayes continued to cradle his head, fingers combing gently through his hair as the water rinsed the suds away.
Oliver glanced down at me with heat in his eyes and bit his lip, widening his stance. I smirked seductively up at him, then poured more soap into my hands, working it into a lather as his hips began to squirm.
“Please…” he whispered, his voice breaking in desperation as Hayes began to massage his neck and shoulders.
Maintaining heated eye contact, I raised my hand and ran soapy fingers through his folds. Oliver gasped at the touch, his gaze hooded.
“Oh god, please,” he whimpered, his little cock throbbing as I caught it between my fingers. As I began to thoroughly clean the cute thing, Ollie’s eyes rolled back.
“That’s not how a puppy is supposed to beg,” Hayes said as he leaned down to nip at Oliver’s earlobe. “Whine for us properly, pet.”
A tremble wracked Oliver’s body.
I licked my lips, slowing down my ministrations until Oliver finally let out a long, pitiful whine, then a soft, shy bark.
“That’s it,” Hayes praised, his hands sliding forward around Oliver until reaching his chest. His fingers strummed at our pet’s pink nipples, drawing yet another lovely puppy whine from his throat.
“Speak, boy,” I commanded, slipping two fingers into his soaked cunt.
He bucked against my hand and looked down at me with a glazed look in his eyes. Louder than before, he let out another two barks.
“We have such a horny little pup, don’t we, brother?”
Hayes replied, “Constantly in heat, it seems. Poor thing.”
Ollie whimpered, riding my fingers, eyes squeezing shut.
I gripped his thigh with my free hand, then said, “Come on my face like a good boy.” I leaned in close, my fingers still buried in that tight hole of his, and sucked his little dick between my lips.
Oliver instantly cried out, his hands flying down to tangle in my wet hair.
I added a third finger into the mix, my tongue flicking his clit, and smiled inwardly as he began to grind against my face in earnest.
Hayes greedily watched, his fingers still toying with Oliver’s sensitive nipples. “Ride his face, boy. Fuck, just like that. Give your Master what he wants. Come, pet.”
At Hayes’s demand, Oliver frantically rutted against me, desperate to reach his peak. It was mere seconds until his body locked up and he squirted his release onto my skin. I groaned into it, sucking and licking every last drop from him.
His body shuddered through several waves of his orgasm until finally he slumped. I clutched his hips, supporting him, while Hayes wrapped an arm around his chest.
“Good boy,” I heard Hayes coo into Oliver’s ear.
I hummed my agreement, the taste of Oliver’s pleasure ripe in my mouth, and gently cleaned him off once more.
When we were finished, I shut the spray off and immediately reached for the thick, fluffy towels we kept warming on the rack. Hayes stepped out first, then guided a limp Oliver onto the bathmat.
We dried him carefully—Hayes blotting his hair with one towel while I wrapped another around his shoulders and pressed it snug against him.
