Mike’s hands shook as he turned off the faucets and rose to go get him. He turned, practically jumping out of his socks.

There Chow stood close behind Mike, already naked except for that goddamn collar. In spite of the fact that every inch of Chow’s body was exposed, Mike locked gazes with him for several moments before letting his vision rove lower, over Chow’s voluptuous lips, across his broad hairless chest, luscious dark nipples and rounded, cut arm muscles, down his flat carved-looking abs and lower.

Mike swallowed hard, his cock already tight and starting its aroused climb to attention. Chow seemed to want Mike to look at him, standing there quietly, docile like always except when fighting while Mike stared at his cock already standing at half-mast from its thatch of black pubic hair. Chow’s cock was surprisingly large in proportion to the size of his body, the head like the tip of a plump, rounded spear, the shaft, skin stretched over veined muscle, a reddish gold above his heavy balls.

A sweat broke out in Mike’s armpits even though he only wore a light t-shirt. “Come on,” he said softly, hearing his voice nearly crack, “Get into the tub.”

Obediently Chow went forward, giving Mike a perfect view of his broad back, equally defined and carved, the muscles along his spine blending seamlessly into a perfectly round, hard ass, the same dusky gold as the rest of his skin only even smoother looking. Mike stood by, making sure Chow got into the tub all right, watching him lower his naked body slowly into the hot water.

Once seated in the tub, however, Chow’s hands went to his sides, his knees slightly bent, his body submerged to his chest, not moving.

Mike realized then that Chow wasn’t going to move. His heart squeezed painfully at the sight and his eye fell on the collar again. Somehow Mike felt that that dreadful piece of studded leather held a connection to Chow’s docility. Mike’s hands still shaking and his armpits still sweating, he knelt down by the tub bringing his face even to Chow’s.

Chow turned and looked at him, his expression neutral, his enchanting almond-shaped eyes almost unblinking.

“I’d…um…like to take this thing off you.” Mike pointed to the collar. “Do you mind?”

Chow continued to stare at him as if he didn’t comprehend and Mike began to wonder if he understood English.

Mike moved his outstretched hand closer, coming to within inches of the collar’s buckle. He dared to let his fingertips land on it.

Chow jumped as if Mike had burned him and he pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry.”

Chow watched him, thankfully without fear in his eyes, but his reaction gave Mike the strong sense he wasn’t ready to part with the collar.

“Look,” Mike went on, “Why don’t you wash up?” He picked up the washcloth and a bar of soap.

Chow watched him blankly as if he didn’t know what to do with those items.

“Do you know what to do?”

Still he watched Mike.

Mike’s cock grew harder with the realization that he was going to be washing Chow if Chow was to get clean.

Mike dipped the washcloth into the steaming water and lathered it over the back of Chow’s neck and behind his ears. A shiver of lust tore through Mike at the simple way the water darkened the golden hue of Chow’s skin and beaded off the golden expanses of hard muscle. Mike wanted more than anything to press his lips to the curve of Chow’s neck, to taste his watery skin with the tip of his tongue. Even with all his bruises, Chow was a magnificent example of manhood.

Mike smoothed the cloth down Chow’s muscled back and up over his strong chest, around his neck, trying his best to ignore the collar, touched and unnerved both by the passive way he let Mike wash him. The only evidence that Chow was enjoying his bath was his hard-on, barely masked by the depths of water in the tub.

Swallowing hard, Mike lifted Chow’s arms one by one, as he’d done during his fever, swirling the soapy cloth around his armpits watching the little puffs of black hair flatten against his skin from the water. Mike had never bathed a guy in this way and the experience was the wildest combination of cock-hardening eroticism and tenderness. He felt like Chow was fragile even though he was a man obviously somewhere in his mid-twenties and probably could have beaten Mike into the ground with a few kicks.

Mike was very tempted to have Chow go up to his knees so he could wash his ass and cock, but he really didn’t feel like it was the appropriate thing to do. Mike wanted Chow to know he had some control over what was done to his body.

So fighting down the arousal pounding relentlessly through his cock and balls, Mike concentrated on Chow’s hands, scrubbing his nails with a nail brush and trimming them so they weren’t so ragged looking. Chow’s hands were really as beautiful as the rest of him, strong looking, blunt shaped fingertips and nails, smooth and golden. Mike handled his hands as carefully as he’d bathed the rest of him, realizing as he did so that he was already more than half in love with Chow and felt more like he was worshiping him than just getting him clean.

Once Mike was done with his hands, he took a cup and poured water over Chow’s head, tilting his head back with a careful fingertip under his chin. Even though Chow’s hair was barely half an inch long, Mike shampooed it, massaging Chow’s scalp with gentle fingers, encouraged by the small groan that vibrated in his throat and the telltale fluttering of his eyelashes that showed his enjoyment. Chow seemed to love having his head touched and Mike wondered about that, especially considering that Benson couldn’t possibly have treated any part of his body with tenderness or reverence.

Mike rinsed Chow’s hair, taking care not to get the suds in his eyes and decided he was clean enough. Even though he’d really wanted to touch Chow’s privates, he felt it would be a terrible violation going there when not invited, especially when he had the chilling suspicion that’s exactly what had been done to him numerous times.

Mike pulled the drain and grabbed a towel, encouraging Chow to stand up.

Chow climbed out of the tub and stood, dripping on the bath mat. Again, even though he was shivering a bit, he was obviously waiting to be toweled off and Mike stole a glance at the water beading off Chow’s dark nipples before gently wiping his skin dry. Mike found he especially enjoyed toweling off the strong columns of Chow’s legs. They were slightly bowed, chiseled with rounded muscles and had just a bit of dark hair on his inner thighs and on his lower legs. His feet, too, were as perfectly shaped and strong looking as his fingers.

By the time Mike hadd finished drying off each muscular leg, his own boner was so tight and painful it was all he could do not to groan out loud.

Mike stood up and showed Chow the fresh clothes he’d brought for him to change into. “You put these on,” he said, figuring Chow would get dressed since he’d undressed himself back in the bedroom. “I’m going to change the bedding, okay?”

Chow looked up at Mike with those killer gorgeous eyes and though he didn’t nod or answer, the look in them seemed to show comprehension. Mike set the clothes on the closed toilet seat and turned abruptly, lest he stand and stare at Chow’s magnificent naked body any more.

Quickly Mike stripped the old sheets off and put on the new ones, feeling especially glad that Chow would have nice clean sheets to lie down in. Mike kinda liked taking care of Chow, especially because of the treatment he’d so obviously suffered. Mike wanted him to know that people could be kind too.

When he finished putting on the blanket and pulled the corner back for him to get in, Mike felt Chow’s presence behind him. Turning, Mike caught his breath.

Chow was standing there like he’d done in the bathroom, still naked, still with a hard on, his gaze locked on Mike’s in that mysterious way of his. Silently, Chow padded over to the bed, climbed in and got on all fours.

Mike’s eyes widened at the sight of Chow positioning himself with his ass up in the air. He turned and looked at Mike, a pleading look in his large dark eyes and said one of the most startling things anyone has ever said to Mike in his entire life.

Locking his gaze with Mike’s again, Chow uttered in a soft voice, “Fuck me, please.”