Trenet stroked Asher’s hair, which had been unbound at some point to fall in loose waves down his back. Despite everything, Asher found himself humming in pleasure and tilting his head into the touch as gentle claw tips carded through his hair.“You hear that, Asher? You’re going to spoil our mate, what with how often he wants to play with your pretty hair.”
“No Dresht would ever blame me,”Vrayl said, followed by the sound of him rising to his feet.“Our Asher is the most perfect yshain anyone could ever ask for.”
“Mm,”Trenet said, as he too stood. The movement and change in angle made Asher moan feebly as gravity helped to fuck Trenet’s cock deeper into him.“The perfect yshain for us.”
Trenet began to walk again and Asher could hear Vrayl next to him, the two of them keeping up a conversation, but one that Asher could in no way pay attention to.
Fuck, but warming Trenet’s cock was hard enough when the Dresht was simply sitting or standing and not moving, but Trenetwalkingwas the most difficult thing to endure. Asher was almost used to the rhythm of it, after an entire day of Trenet fucking in and out of his hole, but he was so, so stretched and sore and sensitive now. He felt thoroughly used and tender inside, and like his body had somehow been changed by having thevenigashand Trenet’s cock in him for so long.
Asher was so distracted by his discomfort that he didn’t register the change in temperature or the sound of soft splashing until he felt what could only be warm water touch his bare feet. That was when he clocked the warm, humid air and the sound of gently lapping water.
They were taking him into the pool.
Oh no, no, no, they were taking him into the poollike this,blindfolded and bound so that his hands and arms were completely useless. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move and he couldn’tsee.And they were taking him into the water.
Everything in Asher seized up in panic, a panic that had mostly deserted him after spending so many hours as a cocksleeve. Now it reared back up, loud and ugly, and Asher couldn’t help the great, heaving, rapid breaths he started to take. All he could think was that he was about to drown. He would sink to the bottom of that warm pool while still wearing the arm bondage and his blindfold and his gag, and he would never be able to break through to the surface.
I’m going to die.Asher couldn’t seem to get enough air, frozen stiff against the large body holding him.I’m going to die, I’m going to die.
Ping! Ping ping ping!
“Oh no, Asher, shh, it’s okay.”Hands came up to stroke his back, to card through his hair.“It’s just the baths, sweetling. Remember? To relax you and get you clean.”
“This is the second time,”came the deep growl from in front of him. Asher shivered and hiccuped, huddling against the broad chest it was coming from.“Do you think it’s possible he’s distressed by the bath in some way?”Then a cheek nuzzled the top of his head.“You’re safe, Asher. You’re safe. You’re home, little love.”
Asher registered his name, felt the gentle touches, but it was impossible to find his calm again, every nerve ending alight with terror. Spots danced behind his eyelids as he continued to struggle to take a full breath.
Ping ping ping!
“Of course!”The hiss was loud and shocking, and Asher made a wounded sound high in his throat to hear it. They had to be angry. They had to be angry with him. What would they do to him as punishment? Would they—would they let him sink?
The hissing and growls continued.“He must be remembering Journey-5 and how dangerous water was for him there. The fiffrant’n flowers that grow on freshwater bodies are toxic to Humans. Our poor Asher, they must have made him so sick…”
“My smart mate, that makes perfect sense. Let’s bathe quickly then. There will be time for luxuriating when our yshain isn’t reliving bad memories.”
Asher registered something soft and warm and wet stroking over each of his limbs, one by one, and then across his chest. The fabric that was covering his back, helping to keep himattached to Trenet, was moved aside so the cloth, it had to be a cloth, could work down his back and lower, where he and Trenet were still joined.
He sat there in the water, caged in Trenet’s arms, and continued to shiver despite the warmth, as claw tips ran through his wet hair, followed by that cloth again. By now the panic had receded just enough for Asher to realize that he was being bathed, not drowned.
It didn’t make him feel any better.
***
Asher made it out of the bath and was dried off, still bound and blindfolded and sitting on Trenet’s cock. He had no idea how the blindfold or the tube binding his arms didn’t feel waterlogged or start chafing, but that was probably superior Dreshtian make.
How fucking lucky am I,he thought bitterly.
He choked on a fresh cry when Trenet took a seat, not expecting the change in angle. Fuck, fuck, he was so sore and sensitive. Asher wasn’t built to have anything inside him at all, much less half a dozenvenigashand a cock as thick as Trenet’s. It felt like every twitch had them grinding against that bundle of nerves inside him, the ones that lit up his spine. He’d been forced to hardness all damn day, coaxed to spill over and over and over again. Asher had lost count how many times he’d come. He’d probably come more today than the combined total of times for the rest of his life.
Maybe that was pathetic, but it had just never had felt safe before, on Vader-X7. Not when the fact that he had a cock at all meant a one-way trip to the kitchens if he were ever found out. And on Journey-5, he was too busy simply trying to survive to have much energy or inclination left for getting off.
Itwaspathetic that even though so much of his experience with Trenet and Vrayl was horrible and terrifying and humiliating, other parts had been… nice.
Like right now, sure he was—he was still impaled on Trenet’s cock, but Trenet was emitting that soothing rumble, vibrating Asher’s whole being in a way that made him feel loose and easy, and Vrayl was humming and combing out Asher’s hair. And it had been just so long,so terribly long since Asher had been touched. Where the Almari had been concerned, so long since he’d been treated with gentleness instead of callousness.
So long since someone had played with and tended to his hair.
Asher had… always sort of hoped he’d one day meet someone who would tend to his hair. It was such a special, intimate sort of closeness. When he’d said goodbye to his moms and older sisters, he’d known that that had meant his only chance at it would have been a good friend. A good friend or a—a lover.
