Journey-5, without a single kind touch for three years, had been… difficult.
So very, very difficult.
“I know you woke up not so long ago,” Trenet said, leaning down to cup Asher’s face. “But it’s evening now, and you’re still recovering from your implant being recalibrated. You need your rest.”
Asher nodded and made what he hoped was agreeable noise. He did feel tired, even though he’d only been awake for an hour or two. The fact that it was already night out, when all he remembered was breakfast that morning, well. A translation implant did feed directly into the brain, after all. Even if he’d been given state of the art treatment—and something in Asher somehow knew he had been—it still made perfect sense to him that he’d slept the day away.
Trenet smiled down at him. “You’re so perfect. Our perfect little love.”
Asher couldn’t stop his happy wiggle, nor the pleased sigh that he emitted at hearing the praise. They kept—they keptsayingthose things. Things to make Asher feel beautiful. Feelproud.
Feel desired.
Asher could… he could do something about that now, couldn’t he? He could—
He could have sex and know what it was and enjoy it now. Couldn’t he?
He was under no illusions that Trenet or Vrayl wouldn’t slide into him for sleep, as they’d done every other night since Asher had become theirs. But Asher didn’t have to just lie there and take it anymore. Didn’t have to cry and fuss and grind his teeth into his gag because he didn’t understand. Because he thought he was a toy instead of a yshain.
A beloved.
He… he could invite Trenet and Vrayl in. Under his own terms. Even still gagged and bound, Asherknewthat they’d do anything to please him. Asher could become a part of his own narrative now, in what happened.Invitethem to partake in his body.
Taking a fortifying breath, Asher looked up at Trenet, glancing over at Vrayl, who was fussing with something in the room’s chest of drawers, and whined loudly as he parted his legs.
The reaction was instantaneous. Trenet’s eyes widened, his pupils slitting before rounding out. Vrayl jerked his head up and swung around, holding something tightly in his hands.
Trenet splayed his palm over Asher’s belly, able to cover the whole span of it their size difference was so great. Asher shivered again to see it. To sink into what he was really doing—offering. He tilted his face back up to meet Trenet’s heated gaze.
“Does our little Asher wish to be filled?” Trenet asked, voice even lower than usual.
Asher nodded. Turned to Vrayl, who had rushed to the bedside as well, and nodded again.
“Both of us, sweetling?” Vrayl asked, sounding hoarse. “After we—we failed you, you want both of us?”
Asher scowled at Vrayl, making a disgruntled noise, and spread his legs wider.Yes I want you, on my own terms. But you didn’t fail me.
You rescued me.
“My heart,” Trenet said, putting a hand on Vrayl’s shoulder as both his and Vrayl’s tails coiled around Asher’s ankles. “Our yshain forgives us. We shouldn’t dishonor his choice by doubting it.”
Vrayl nodded rapidly and set what he was carrying down on the bed. “First, let’s adjust your jahin, dear heart. You’ve worn your tirlak for many days, and it’s healthy to change up jahin.”
Tirlak. Arm security.
Asher nodded warily, uncertain as to what changing his jahin, hiscomforts,might mean. But he didn’t fuss when Vrayl reached for the tube that had secured his arms for so long, pressing and pulling specific spots until the whole thing peeled off and away.
Vrayl reached for Asher’s left arm, Trenet his right, and Asher watched as the both of them slid something over his wrist, his fingers sliding into a padded mitt that kept them comfortably spread and at an agreeable angle. A moment later there was a beeping sound as the wristband of the mitt locked in place.
Asher brought his hand to his face, turning it over to observe the mitt. These jahin were certainly much less restrictive than the tirlak had been. He knew that the mitts could get so heavy he couldn’t move them, but—they weren’t too heavynow. So he’d suddenly been given a much greater freedom, for however long it lasted.
He… honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about that. There was something to be said for how secure the tirlak had been. It had restrained him, yes, but it also had been comforting, in some strange way. Maybe because it was almost like being held. Another way that Asher had been granted an embrace, after so many years spent in the desert, dry of affection.
“You only have to wear these instead of the tirlak for tonight, if you don’t like them as much,” Vrayl said in a rush. “The moment you decide you want your tirlak back, just let us know.”
Asher made an agreeable sound and sat up. His legs were still parted and held fast in place by Trenet and Vrayl’s tails, but Asher had spent years and years taking dancing lessons on Vader-X7. As a result, he was pretty strong for his size and flexible, which had helped a lot while trying to survive on Journey-5.
He sort of wondered, now, how his Dresht might react to learning that about him.
